The meticulousness of Cary Grant

[Cary] Grant insisted that 'it takes 500 small details to add up to one favorable impression'. His attention to detail, however, went far beyond his own appearance. A reporter visiting Grant as he began shooting a new movie observed, 'On the set, he was the only star I have ever known who personally examined each extra before a scene to make sure they were dressed right.' His perfectionism was not always appreciated by his colleagues. The production manager of [1946 Cole Porter biopic] Night and Day wrote in his daily memorandum, 'I don't think there is a set in this picture that hasn't been changed by Cary, and it has cost this studio a terrific amount of money.' 

There are countless stories of Grant's insistence on minor and major changes to the dialogue, the costume design and the décor: rooms that looked, he is supposed to have said, too small or too large, paintings that needed to be replaced, doorknobs painted different colours, windows changed, camera angles altered, lenses switched - it all became too much for a few people, such as the highly experienced but no-nonsense English cinematographer Christopher Challis, who complained that Grant, although a 'consummate artist' and 'not in any way unpleasant', was also 'the biggest "old woman" I have ever worked with'. 

Normally, however, he had an unusually clear sense of what it was that he wanted, and, just as importantly, why he wanted it. The actor Thelma Orloff noted when she worked with Grant that 'he had grasped every aspect of the business... He never did anything that wasn't right on the button'. When Peter Bogdanovich asked several of Grant's directors about certain 'particularly delightful moments in their Grant films', he often received the same reply: 'That was Cary's'. Alfred Hitchcock, who did not often welcome the advice of his cast on technical (or any other) matters, always showed considerable respect for Grant's opinions. On the set of North by Northwest, for example, Grant assisted Hitchcock on the choreographing of several complicated scenes, such as the commotion in the auction-room.

Some might have been exasperated by Grant's meticulousness, but others were fascinated by it. When James Mason worked with him on North by Northwest, he began by studying Grant's playing in an early scene in which his character is kidnapped: 'I had been most eager to watch this Grant at work and figure out the secret of his perfect comedy playing. He was earnest, conscientious, clutching his script until the last moment. Then onto his feet and it would just happen'.

- Graham McCann, Cary Grant: A Class Apart, London, 1996, p.179-180.

See also:
Blog: What, no Two-Lane Blacktop?, 6 September 2015
Blog: Homer Simpson's first appearance, 20 October 2012
Blog: Age and guile beats youth and inexperience, 25 February 2006

I just place my faith in five little words

Thursday music corner: Ohio natives The Isley Brothers founded as a vocal trio in the 1950s and have had a rhythm and blues career of great longevity thanks to an ever-fluctuating number of band-members, built around the Isley family and various relations and in-laws. The Isleys trailblazed with singles like 1959's Shout (made doubly famous by Lulu in 1964), and 1962's Twist and Shout (made stratospherically famous by the Beatles in 1963 and reintroduced to another generation by Ferris Bueller in 1986), but felt their career was not advancing sufficiently rapidly on the multiple record labels they released with. (In 1964 the Isleys also temporarily crossed paths with a young guitarist who joined their backing band until October of that year, James Marshall (Jimi) Hendrix). 

By the time of their fourth studio album, 1966's This Old Heart of Mine, the band's dissatisfaction was growing with their current label, Tamla-Motown, which treated the act as second-string performers. The album featured no Isley-written songs, instead largely promoting Motown's skilled Holland-Dozier-Holland song production-line. Illustrating the band's subordination to the Supremes in the label hierarchy, the album's title track was originally destined to be a Supremes release, and it also includes a version of the Supremes' 1965 hit Stop! In The Name of Love. 

The album concludes with Seek and You Shall Find, a mid-tempo groove that the Isleys executed with fine precision. Written by Ivy Jo Hunter and Mickey Stevenson, who co-wrote the 1964 smash hit Dancing In The Street with Marvin Gaye, the track is a fine closer to an album by a group with higher ambitions than just performing in the shadow of shinier label-mates.

After one further album with Tamla, 1967's Soul on the Rocks, the Isleys formed their own label, T-Neck Records, on which they attained 10 platinum or gold album releases in the decade from 1973 to 1983. In a later Isley incarnation the band achieved three hit albums from 1996 to 2003, bringing their material to 21st-century audiences.         

The Isley Brothers - Seek and You Shall Find (1966)

Women's goals must be more than parity

When men follow feminist leadership to the extent that women have followed male leadership, then sexism is on its way out. Also, until we see women getting from 40 to 60% of the financial rewards, museum and gallery exhibitions, college jobs, etc. etc. etc.., it is still tokenism. When women artists attain this, then we'll know the sexist system is over.

Hopefully women artists will not be satisfied with parity, but will continue to search for alternatives. Women's goals must be more than parity. The established patterns in the art world have proven frustrating and mostly non-rewarding to women a[s] artists since the ideal feminist stance of alternate structures is contradicted by the status quo. But such an ideal of non elitist milieus will only prove itself over a long period. While we claim the right to search for alternatives, we don't intend to let the rewards of the system remain largely in male hands.

- Artist Nancy Spero writing to art critic Lucy Lippard, February 1976, quoted in Michael Bird, Artists' Letters, London, 2019, p.104.

What if I was Heathcliff, it's no myth

Thursday music corner: Michael Penn (b.1958), brother of well-known actors Sean and Chris Penn, has performed as a singer-songwriter since the 1980s, initially as part of the Los Angeles band Doll Congress, and since his 1989 debut album March as a solo artist. No Myth was the lead single from the album and reached no.13 in the US pop charts, and the top 30 in Australia. His blend of wryly literate guitar pop proved out of step with the record market of the time, and his peerless 1992 follow-up album, Free-For-All, brought about a showdown with his record company and a five-year recording hiatus. Having released five studio albums, his work has in recent years been focused on film and TV scores, in particular bolstered by his association with director Paul Thomas Anderson, which led to Penn scoring Anderson's films Hard Eight and Boogie Nights. Penn has now scored 15 films, and his TV score work includes Girls and Masters of Sex. In 2020 he released a surprise single, A Revival, and noted in an interview with American Songwriter:

For somebody who has no interest in touring and had a completely naïve notion that I could be some kind of Harry Nilsson character buried in the studio and putting out records without having to tour, I’ve been very blessed to continue to work in music as a composer. Even though that’s the case, I’ve missed songwriting terribly.

Penn has been married to fellow singer-songwriter Aimee Mann since December 1997. The couple live in Los Angeles. 

Michael Penn - No Myth (1989)

Pete Best gets the sack

The following day [15 August 1962], The Beatles played two sets at the Cavern. On Thursday August 16, Pete [Best] was sacked. sacked. Brian [Epstein], who did the deed with no other band members present, promised to keep Pete on his current wage and find him another group. Liverpool was shocked. The "mean and moody" Pete may have been adored by fans but he never really gelled with his bandmates. "Pete was very straight," says [The Beatles' friend] Klaus Voormann. "Not a very good drummer but he kept good timing. He had only one fill he could do. Ringo was very different, so loose and so lovely. It allowed the band to change a lot." Following a couple of shows with Johnny Hutch from The Big Three on drums, Ringo made his debut on August 18 at Hulme Hall, Port Sunlight. The Beatles became The Beatles.

"It came as shock to everybody except The Beatles, but you knew immediately it was the right decision," says [then-roadie Tony] Bramwell. "Ringo was a better drummer and he was a good guy who would socialise with them. Ringo was a Beatle. It was that simple." Not everybody agreed. George Harrison ended up with a black eye after an altercation at the Cavern with a Pete fan called Bruno from West Derby.

- Peter Watts, 'Not a bad 12 months, was it?', Uncut, August 2022, p.97  

See also:
Blog: John's Aunt Mimi, 5 December 2013
Blog: Ringo Starr 1992 interview, 20 September 2013
Blog: Nowhere Boy & Backbeat, 10 February 2010

Girl don't you walk out, we've got things to say

Thursday music corner: In issuing and then recalling 'A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You', the Monkees' third single release after the runaway success of the two 1966 singles Last Train to Clarksville and I'm A Believer, the group asserted creative control over their music careers, making the transition from TV performers who sung songs written and performed by others, to an actual band. 

The single was pop publisher Don Kirshner's attempt to cash in on the teen public's rapacious yearning for pop poppet Davy Jones (1945-2012). Flying Jones to New York in February 1967, Kirshner recorded his lead vocal - Jones' first for the Monkees - with a polished studio band, and without any of the other Monkees participating. In the RCA Victor recording studios in New York Jones gives a strong vocal performance, and the band produces a taut pop sound, in part thanks to experienced producer Jeff Barry.

The songwriter, Brill Building wunderkind Neil Diamond, had at this point only released one solo album, The Feel of Neil Diamond, with three successful singles including Solitary Man and Cherry, Cherry. He'd also penned the Monkees' smash hit I'm A Believer - which later became the biggest selling US single of 1967. 

When Kirshner released 'A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You' in Canada without prior approval, it brought to a head the Monkees' growing irritation with Kirshner, who had already sprung the release of their second album More of the Monkees on them without advance warning and without any musical contribution from the band beyond their vocal performances. The single was reissued with a revised B-side, and Kirshner was fired. 

The reissued single reached no.2 on the Billboard charts in America, topped the charts in both Canada and New Zealand, and went top 10 in Australia, West Germany and the UK, amongst others. After 'A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You', the Monkees, smarting from the 'pre-Fab Four' press controversy of 1966-67, began to take control of their sound, their performances, and their songwriting.    

"Girls, I'll see you all backstage"

On the thirteenth [of May 1955] they played Jacksonville. Before the show Mae [Boren Axton] took Elvis [Presley] and some of the other musicians out to dinner, and she tried to wheedle him out of the frilly pink shirt he was wearing. "Skeeter Davis was there, and June and Anita [Carter], and some of the boys with Elvis, and I said, 'Elvis, that's vulgar. And it would make me such a pretty blouse.' And Skeeter said, 'I want it,' and June said, 'I want it.' And he just kind of grinned. And I said, 'Elvis, you ought to give it to us, one of us anyway, because they are just going to tear it off you tonight. Not really thinking about it - knowing the people liked him but not really thinking about it."

That night at the show, in front of fourteen thousand people, he announced at the conclusion of his act: "Girls, I'll see you all backstage". Almost immediately they were after him. The police got him into the Gator Bowl's dugout locker room, where Mae and the Colonel were totaling up the night's receipts. Most of the other acts were backstage, too Mae recalled, when the fans started pouring in through an overhead window that had been inadvertently left open. "I heard feet like a thundering herd, and the next thing I knew I heard this voice from the shower area. I started running, and three or four policemen started running, too, and by the time we got there several hundred must have crawled in - well maybe not that many, but a lot and Elvis was on top of one of the showers looking sheepish and scared, like 'What'd I do?' and his shirt was shredded and his coat was torn to pieces. Somebody had even gotten his belt and his socks and these cute little boots - they were not cowboy boots, he was up there with nothing but his pants on and they were trying to pull at them up on the shower. Of course the police started getting them out, and I never will forget Faron Young - this one little girl had kind of a little hump at the back, and he kicked at her, and these little boots fell out."

The Colonel, said Mae, "and I don't mean it derogatorily, got dollar marks in his eyes." It was Jacksonville, said Oscar Davis, that marked the turning point that was the real eye-opener, the Colonel said to him.

- Peter Guralnick, Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley, 1994, p.189-90.

A long and well-documented history

Born Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson — he began using “Boris” in a sort of rebranding exercise in high school — the soon-to-be-ex prime minister has a long and well-documented history both of evading the truth and of acting as if he believes himself to be exempt from the normal rules of behavior. His many years in public life — as a newspaper reporter and columnist, as the editor of an influential London political magazine, as a politician — have left a trail of witnesses to, and victims of, his slippery nature.

When he was editor of the Spectator magazine, he lied to the editor, Conrad Black, promising not to serve in Parliament while working at the magazine. (He did.) When he was first elected to Parliament, he lied to his constituents when he promised to quit his Spectator job. (He didn’t.) As a legislator, he lied to the party leader, Michael Howard, and to the news media when he publicly declared that he had not had an affair with a writer for the magazine, nor gotten her pregnant and paid for her abortion. (He had done all of that.) 

[...]

When he was the Brussels correspondent for the right-leaning Daily Telegraph in the late 1980s, Mr. Johnson wrote highly entertaining but blatantly inaccurate articles designed to paint the European Union as a factory of petty regulation intent on stamping out British individuality — articles that helped establish an anti-Europe narrative for a generation of Conservatives and pave the way for Brexit, two decades later.

- Sarah Lyall, 'Johnson's lies worked for years, until they didn't', New York Times, 8 July 2022

Old man Solomon is the umpire, and Satan's pitchin' a game

Thursday music corner: 'Sister' Wynona Carr (1923-76), the Cleveland-born gospel and pop singer, was christened with her holy title by her then-manager Art Rupe in about 1949 in honour of her idol, the pioneering singer and guitarist Sister Rosetta Tharpe. She recorded The Ball Game in 1952, and it typifies her idiosyncratic approach to gospel, incorporating pop culture references - in this case from sport, and in the case of the delightful Dragnet For Jesus, from prime-time television. Later she dropped the 'Sister' to embrace secular music, and stuck to rhythm and blues and rock 'n roll recordings, until a long bout with tuberculosis interrupted her touring career in 1957. According to the Women In Rock Project, for the remainder of her life, 'Carr could regularly be heard playing clubs, lounges, and hotels in her hometown of Cleveland—and occasionally in more far-flung locations including Puerto Rico'. Her gospel recordings attracted renewed attention with the release of two CDs of her work on the Specialty Records label in 1992 and 1993.

“First, we must ask, does it have to be a whale?"

Another rip-roaring rejection arrived a year later through the letterbox of Virginia Woolf. After a lengthy demolition job on To The Lighthouse, David Balzer of Stanchion Press sought to assure her, “Do not, Mrs Woolf, confuse my objections with sex bias”. He snidely concluded, “Self-publication may be your best hope. If your own milieu is anything like that of your novel, I trust you will have little trouble making connections or garnering finances”.

On the subject of sex bias, perhaps the most hilarious of all was Bentley and Son’s rejection of Herman Melville’s Moby Dick: “First, we must ask, does it have to be a whale? For instance, could not the Captain be struggling with a depravity towards young, perhaps voluptuous, maidens?”

- Rosemary Jenkinson, 'Good God, I can't publish this', The Critic, 20 June 2022