I have started working in the office two days a week after a year and a half of working at home because of COVID-19. It’s weird being back in the office, even if it is only 2 out of 5 work days! But that’s not the point of this post. The point is, I was wondering about which famous artists and musicians were born in and/or have lived in San Francisco. I am aware of a few, but I realized I have never researched this question, and I am sure there are many more than I knew about.
One thing that sparked this question for me (and explains why I mentioned working in the office again) was when I was commuting home after work last week (I take the bus, and my stop is on Haight Street), I was standing in front of a shop window that has a jewelry display. Some of the necklaces in the window are on stands, and the shop owner had put large photos of Janis Joplin’s face on some of them. A 20-something woman and her friend walked by, and the woman sneered, “Hah–they put some random woman’s face on that necklace!!” Her friend laughed, and I wanted to slap my palm against my forehead, seeing two young people who didn’t recognize/know about Janis Joplin! As I said, this got me to thinking about famous people who have lived in SF. Janis was not from here (she was from Port Arthur, Texas), but she did live in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood in the ’60s.
This post contains some I already knew of, and others I didn’t. I am learning about some of these famous San Franciscans right now, as I write this post! Learn along with me!
Bruce Lee
Most people don’t know that Bruce Lee, one of the most famous martial artists in history, was born in San Francisco’s famous Chinatown. He was born there in 1940. His parents were from Hong Kong and moved back there with Bruce when he was 3 months old.
Ansel Adams
Iconic landscape photographer and conservationist Ansel Adams was born in the Western Addition neighborhood of San Francisco in 1902. His family also owned a house in the Sea Cliff neighborhood. Four-year-old Ansel Adams was injured in an aftershock of the great 1906 earthquake, breaking his nose when he was jolted into a wall.
Linda Ronstadt
Famous singer Linda Ronstadt was born in Arizona and lived in Los Angeles during her early career. She moved to San Francisco in the ’80s, then back to Tucson in the late ’90s, then back to San Francisco again in the early 2000s. When I was looking for an apartment in SF 2 years ago, I saw one that is across the street from where the singer now lives.
Danny Glover
Actor Danny Glover was born in San Francisco, attending school in the Richmond District. He also went to college at San Francisco State University.
Courtney Love
Grunge rock musician Courtney Love was born in San Francisco in 1964. She spent her early years in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood, until moving to Oregon with her mother after her parents divorced in 1970. Love briefly moved back to San Francisco in the mid-’80s to pursue her music career and also attended the San Francisco Art Institute to study film and theater.
Rube Goldberg
Reuben Garrett Lucius Goldberg, known best as Rube Goldberg, a cartoonist, sculptor, author, engineer, and inventor, was born in San Francisco in 1883. He is most famous for his popular cartoons depicting complicated gadgets (“Goldberg machines”) performing simple tasks in indirect, convoluted ways.
Wayne Thiebaud
“Three Machines” by Wayne Thiebaud, on display in the DeYoung Museum in San Francisco. Thiebaud was born in SF in 1920.
Dorthea Lange
Iconic photographer Dorothea Lange was born in Hoboken, New Jersey, but moved to San Francisco in 1918. In 1945, she was invited by Ansel Adams to teach at the first fine art photography department at the California School of Fine Arts, now known as San Francisco Art Institute.
Margaret Cho
Comedian Margaret Cho was born in San Francisco in 1968 (same age as me!). She attended San Francisco State University.
There are so many others! Actors either born in or who lived in San Francisco include Lisa Bonet, Benjamin Bratt, Ellen DeGeneres, Clint Eastwood, Tom Hanks, Cheech Marin, Rob Schneider, Alicia Silverstone, Sharon Stone, Robin Williams, Ali Wong, and Natalie Wood. Isadora Duncan, the classic dancer, was born in San Francisco. Filmmakers who were either from or lived in SF include Francis Coppola, Sofia Coppola, George Lucas, and Wayne Wang. A lot of the musicians/bands attributed to San Francisco were not ones I had heard of, but I have heard of 4 Non Blondes, Tracy Chapman, The Charlatans, Counting Crows, Dead Kennedys, Faith No More, Flamin’ Groovies, Michael Franti, the Grateful Dead, Vince Guaraldi, Sammy Hagar, Chris Isaak, Jefferson Airplane, Jefferson Starship, Journey, Kronos Quartet, Huey Lewis, Johnny Mathis, Bobby McFerrin, the Melvins, Metallica, Moby, the Mummies, Graham Nash, Dan the Automator (Dan Nakamura), Liz Phair, Carlos Santana, Sly Stone, and Sid Vicious.
It’s such a creative city. Of course, the super-expensive cost of living is driving a lot of artists away from the Bay Area. It’s a shame that it’s tough for so many to make it here.
I recently watched the documentary Summer of Soul (… or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised), directed by Ahmir (Questlove) Thompson, of Philadelphia band The Roots. Questlove is also a DJ, record producer, and author, among other things–the man seems to have endless talent and energy. If you haven’t seen Summer of Soul yet, do yourself a favor and watch it. (It can be seen in theaters and on Hulu.)
Summer of Soul is about the Harlem Cultural Festival of 1969, which consisted of a series of six outdoor summer concerts in Mount Morris Park (now Marcus Garvey Park), drawing more than 300,000 audience members. Singer Tony Lawrence organized the festival, and it was filmed by television producer Hal Tulchin. If you haven’t heard of it, it’s because the festival footage sat in a basement, largely unseen, until now. Was it just forgotten due to being overshadowed by Woodstock, which happened the same summer, or purposely hidden? Questlove intersperses interviews with concert footage that puts the music in the social and political context of the day and celebrates the power and joy of the performances.
“Me being a DJ is exactly what informed me on how to tell this story,” Questlove said in a virtual press conference for the film. “This isn’t the only story out there. Probably the most shocking thing that I’ve learned in the last month is that there’s about six to seven others. Maybe this film can be an entry, sort of a sea change for these stories to finally get out [and] really for us to acknowledge that … one of the first-ever Black festivals is important to our history.”
You will be treated to never-before-seen concert performances by Stevie Wonder, Nina Simone, Sly & the Family Stone, Gladys Knight & the Pips, B.B. King, Mahalia Jackson, and more. The festival celebrated African American music and culture and promoted Black pride and unity. The documentary was released to rave reviews at Sundance, where it won both the grand jury prize and audience award and subsequently sold for more than $12 million, the biggest price tag for a documentary in Sundance’s history.
For me, the music brought back memories of my childhood in the early 1970s. As a white child growing up in rural Pennsylvania, I didn’t understand much about what was going on in America at the time, nor did I grasp the cultural significance of the music. Today, I see this music and these memories from a different perspective. It’s wonderful that Questlove made this film, which shines a long-overdue light on a groundbreaking musical event and celebrates Black history and culture.
Still from Tiger King, the Netflix documentary series on Joe Exotic.
The Current State of Things with COVID-19
Wow, how things have changed since my last post on March 14th! At that time, things were heating up with the COVID-19 pandemic, but I was still going to work at my university counseling center job, and we were not yet “sheltering in place,” which started in San Francisco, where I live, on Tuesday, March 17th.
I hope everyone is weathering the ups and downs of this frightening situation as best they can. We all have our particular layers of stress and difficulty. Some of us are isolated and alone. Some are out of work and frightened about how to make ends meet, and some have lost their health insurance along with their job. While some folks have been busy scrambling to transition to working at home with little time (and in some cases, little tech support) to prepare, others are bored with too much free time. Some are living with others, navigating the pressures of being in a confined space together and not being able to get out or have much personal space. Many are struggling to balance multiple roles, such as working from home while parenting 24/7 and overseeing their children’s schooling. Still others are sick or concerned about friends and loved ones who are sick. Then, we have our heroes on the front lines of health care who are putting themselves at risk to take care of the ill. We also have those working in other essential jobs who are at increased risk of exposure but are doing what they have to do.
My heart goes out to everyone. I’m navigating my own ups and downs through this and finding my ways of coping. We each have our own needs and styles. I’ve been coping with being isolated (working at home and living alone) by reading, watching TV and videos, listening to music, taking virtual dance classes, going for walks, doing photography, and overcoming my introvert tendencies to stay in contact with friends more than usual.
I have been aware of my mixed feelings about some of the media I’ve been consuming. I’ve felt the need to limit my overall exposure to news and to avoid certain COVID-related stories. News overload and particularly frightening articles can make me fearful and anxious to a degree that doesn’t feel healthy, so I’ve been more careful about taking breaks and choosing what I read.
Reality TV
In addition to noticing the impact of news on my emotional health, I’ve also been pondering some of the shows I’ve watched that fall into the category of “trash TV”: The two I recently binge-watched, much to my chagrin (although I’m by no means alone), are Tiger King and Love Is Blind on Netflix. For anyone who hasn’t heard of these shows, Tiger King is a documentary series about a man with a private zoo (mainly containing big cats) whose life is a morass of chaos, conflict, and controversy. Love Is Blind is a reality show in which contestants spend a couple weeks “dating” “blind”–each in a separate room, talking to their date but not being able to see them. The contestants were encouraged to propose to the person they liked best, go on a trip together, live together, and get married, all within about a month and a half.
Still from Love Is Blind on Netflix.
I was entertained by both shows, although I felt alternately titillated, disgusted, judgmental, curious, and ashamed throughout watching. In the recent past, I haven’t spent too much time on reality TV or salacious programming, although it’s not like I’m totally above this kind of entertainment: I was an avid fan of The Real World and its spin-off, Road Rules. I’ve watched various reality shows and tabloid talk shows, been a reader of Perez Hilton’s low-brow gossip blog, and been fascinated by trashy true crime series and alien abduction investigation shows. I’m still a huge fan of Project Runway.
The History of “Trash TV”
When you look at the rise of reality TV, particularly the trashy variety, it can seem like a purely contemporary phenomenon. Reality programming (with different degrees of sensationalism) really took off the 1990s with shows like Survivor and various tabloid talk shows, among others, and in the 2000s with a whole slew of shows–the Idol and Real Housewives franchises, Keeping up with the Kardashians, The Amazing Race, Fear Factor … But these shows had their roots in earlier “reality shows” of the ’40s and ’50s, like Queen for a Day and Candid Camera. There were sensational shows throughout the ’60s, ’70s, and ’80s (e.g., The Dating Game, The Newlywed Game, Geraldo) that were a part of the lineage of what we think of as modern-day reality TV.
Still from The Newlywed Game, 1970s.Still from The Newlywed Game, 1970s.
An Ongoing Taste for Sensationalism
In thinking about this type of entertainment, I became curious about our taste for gossip, unscripted real-life drama, and salacious tales before TV was ubiquitous. Some of us may have a romanticized view of the past, thinking that maybe people used to have better taste or higher standards for entertainment. But that isn’t true.
As far back as recorded human history, we have been drawn to consume and tell stories. Psychologists have said that one of the most prominent evolutionary features that separates humans from other primates is our mirror neuron system, which allows us to quickly perceive and relate to what other people are doing and feeling. Because humans have this ability and an inborn and adaptive interest in the lives and stories of other people, we have been able to create complex cultures and languages (Stromberg, 2009) and to engage in storytelling. This long history of oral history and telling tales contains many branches, one of which is sensationalism.
One form of sensational storytelling is gossip. Although technically, gossip can be defined as “talking about someone who is not present,” whether positive, negative, or neutral, we usually use the word to refer to saying negative things about someone, spreading rumors, and betraying secrets. Studies show that there may be an evolutionary benefit to talking about others, so we can bond and share social information across a larger network than our immediate connections (Gottfried, 2019); thus, gossip could have some positive functions. However, the negative form of gossip serves to denigrate, judge, and betray those about whom we are talking.
“A Little Tea and Gossip” by Robert Payton Reid, 1887.
When it comes to salacious stories and gossip, there is evidence that they have been with us for centuries. Professor Mitchell Stephens (2007) notes that the Acta Diurna, daily summaries of current events and human interest stories that were posted on public message boards in ancient Rome, were often sensational (and miscommunicated through word of mouth). Stephens also reports that books of the 16th and 17th century used salacious tales to teach moral lessons, as well as entertain. Between 1867 and 1876, the London magazine Belgravia, edited by Mary Elizabeth Braddon, who wrote sensational popular novels, provided shock and titillation on a wide range of subjects with an attention-grasping writing style (Gabriele, 2009). There were many other salacious novels and periodicals through the years.
Acta Diurna, the world’s first “newspaper?”
A related phenomenon is the desire humans have for “celebrity gossip,” which is partly rooted in ancient tales of gods and heroes and stories of royalty. In more recent times, our focus has been on actors, musicians, and athletes. Probably the first gossip tabloid in the United States was Broadway Brevities and Society Gossip, launched in New York in 1916. Initially, Brevities covered high society and New York’s theater world, but by the 1920s devolved into covering society scandals and gossip, eventually leading to the tabloid being shut down in 1925 when its editor and some associates were convicted of fraud and accused of blackmail. Other celebrity magazines of the early 20th century varied from fawning over stars to promoting beauty products to gossip.
Actress Seena Owen on the cover of the November 1922 issue of Broadway Brevities.Article from PhotoPlay magazine, 1934.
Why Do We Love Trash?
Why do we enjoy these forms of entertainment so much? There are a few reasons. To a degree, one reason is the previously mentioned mirror neuron system, which makes us curious about, empathetic to, and responsive to other people. But, there are also parts of our psyche, for better or worse, that compel us to compare ourselves to others, look for others’ flaws and weaknesses, and at times, want to see others struggle and even suffer. There is “good” and “bad” in all of us. We all have the capacity to build others up and tear them down–to delight in others’ successes but also to take perverse joy in their failures and foibles.
As a therapist, I believe it’s normal and healthy to recognize and accept all of our parts, even those we dislike or feel ashamed of. But, we always have the choice to feed and cultivate our better, more prosocial traits and put less time and energy into those aspects of ourselves that can be destructive. So, enjoy the trash TV and tabloid news if you must, but save some time, energy, and attention for those stories and activities that strengthen your healthy sense of self and your desire to connect with, celebrate, and support your fellow humans. Now more than ever, we need to build those aspects of human nature that bring us together.
Additional Reading
Gabriele, A. (2009). Reading Popular Culture in Victorian Print: Belgravia and Sensationalism, New York and London, Palgrave Macmillan.
I admit that I am fascinated by serial killers. I seek out TV shows, movies, documentaries, and sometimes books about them. I watch with a mix of disgust, fear, and interest. As a psychologist, I want to understand the mind of the psychopath. As someone who is empathic and spends a lot of time helping others, it’s very hard to wrap my mind around what it must be like to be a cold-blooded killer.
I’m not alone in my interest in serial killers. Psychopaths such as John Wayne Gacy, the Zodiac Killer, Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer, and the Boston Strangler have garnered tons of of public attention.
Serial killer Ed Kemper, 1973. Photo from Santa Cruz County Sheriff’s Office.
Diagnosis According to the diagnostic “bible” of mental health professionals, the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (American Psychiatric Association, 2013), the category that fits most serial killers, those who killed multiple people on separate occasions for psychological and/or sexual reasons, is Antisocial Personality Disorder (APD). Colloquially, people use psychopath or sociopath more often than APD—technically, they mean the same thing, although in common usage, psychopath usually refers to a more violent form of APD than does sociopath.
The defining characteristics of APD boil down to a long-term pattern of disregard for, or violation of, others’ rights and feelings. While we all probably know someone like this, thankfully most of us don’t know a serial killer. Someone is said to have APD if they have three or more of the following traits that are not better explained by another mental illness (such as bipolar disorder): failure to respect and/or adhere to laws and norms; repeated lying and deceit for personal gain or pleasure; impulsivity and failure to plan ahead; reckless disregard for the safety of self and others; a pattern of irresponsibility with regard to work, finances, and other important areas; and a lack of remorse after having hurt or taken advantage of others. This diagnosis is only used in adults 18 or older—children with such traits are diagnosed with Conduct Disorder (and most adults with APD had Conduct Disorder when they were young).
Serial killers are obviously at the extreme end of the spectrum of APD: On the mild end, you might see someone who cheats on their taxes and cyber-bullies. Serial killers tend to have shown sadistic traits and wet the bed as youngsters and often are fascinated by fire-setting. Contrary to popular belief, most are not “evil geniuses” but have low to average IQ. Most are male (Hickey, 2010; Vronsky, 2007).
How Did They Become Killers? There is no one clear reason why someone becomes a serial killer. Probably, a lot of reasons add up to a seriously disturbed personality. These include “nature” (genes, high testosterone levels, low serotonin levels, head injury, developmental brain anomalies) and “nurture” (antisocial parents, family problems, severe abuse, bullying, societal factors). The fact that there is not a definitive “recipe” for homicidal behavior may be one of the most disturbing aspects to think about: If there is no one obvious reason people become serial killers, how can we prevent them from developing?
A Little History There have likely been serial killers throughout history. Some believe that werewolf and vampire legends were inspired by serial killers (Schlesinger, 2000). One of the most famous historical murderers, often called “the first modern serial killer,” was Jack the Ripper. He killed at least five women in London in the late 1800s and was never caught. The story of these killings spawned a media frenzy, countless movies and books, and one of the earliest “profiles” of a killer (Canter, 1994).
Picture from The Illustrated Police News, October 6, 1888.
In the United States, there have been approximately 2625 documented serial killers. Disturbingly, 76% of all known serial killers in the 20th century were from the U.S. What does that say about our country? I guess it should not be that surprising, given our overall violence compared with many other nations: For example, in looking at homicides in cities around the world, rates in U.S. cities are much, much higher than those in Europe and Asia (Violent Crime).
Why Do We Like Killers? OK, perhaps like is too strong a word. But, maybe we are fascinated by serial killers because they are different from the norm: We are curious about what is unusual. And, we may consciously or unconsciously admire those who don’t care about rules, follow their darkest impulses, and act as they please with no conscience. Glorification of the “outlaw” fits with the history of the United States, built on rebellion, violence, and independence (Edlund, 2017). Americans also have a very complicated psychological relationship with power, dominance, sexuality, and control, all elements of many serial killings.
Some of the characteristics that allow some serial killers to succeed with their crimes may be part of their allure: The ability to charm and manipulate is often in their makeup. Take Ted Bundy, for example. There is something both fascinating and horrifying about the idea that that charming but controlling guy you talked to at a bar or work with could secretly be hiding bodies in his basement. It also makes one think twice about online dating. Other serial killers are not particularly charming but can fly under the radar, living ordinary lives, with others not realizing who they are and what they do.
We may be drawn to stories about serial killers for the same reasons why some people love horror movies. One is that reading or watching tales of serial killers is a safer way to face our fears of violence and death and even experience some excitement and arousal around killing. Murderers’ lives may also hold a dark appeal because it seems taboo to wonder about them. Many people have a desire to seek out what is forbidden or at least have a curiosity about what is outside the realm of everyday life.
Serial Killer Favorites I want to share some of my favorite depictions of serial killers, in case you, like me, have a curiosity about them. My favorite by far has been The Fall,a dark and disturbing three-season Netflix series (2013–2016) set in the U.K. and starring Gillian Anderson and Jamie Dornan. Anderson does a stellar job as the troubled detective tasked with finding serial killer Dornan. The acting and story are what kept me riveted, but I have to admit that the fact that the killer was a mental health counselor added to the draw.
The Silence of the Lambs (1991) is a classic serial killer movie. Anthony Hopkins as the homicidal and cannibalistic Dr. Lecter epitomized the Hollywood image of a psychopath, and Jodie Foster was a compelling and vulnerable hero. The only thing I didn’t like was the movie’s implication that killer Buffalo Bill’s penchant for cross-dressing had anything to do with his murderous instincts. A little-known fact is that one of the inspirations for Buffalo Bill was Philadelphia psychopath Gary Heidnik (who was not a cross-dresser or transgender, by the way). Another inspo was Ed Gein, who was believed to have been trying to make a “woman suit” out of the skin of victims so he could pretend to be his dead mother. (Gein was also an inspiration for Norman Bates in Psycho.)
Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960) is certainly another classic of the genre, unfortunately also featuring a cross-dressing killer. Of course, Norman Bates was not necessarily dressing in women’s clothing for sexual or identity reasons but because he was embodying his (deceased) abusive mother. Sorry for the spoiler if you never saw the movie, but come on—if you have any interest in serial killers, you must have watched it!
I really enjoyed the cultural satire of American Psycho (2000), starring Christian Bale. I mean, it’s quite a feat if you can make serial killing humorous. And that business card scene is such a biting send-up of 1980s business culture.
You can bet he’s playing Huey Lewis and the News.
Cormac McCarthy’s novel No Country for Old Men (2005) and the Coen brothers’ 2007 movie adaptation starring Tommy Lee Jones and Javier Bardem are terrifying. McCathy’s novel does a better job of fleshing out the psychological torment of good guy Bell, while the film version better depicts the horror that is Bardem’s Chigurh.
A few runners-up for me have been the Netflix series Mindhunter (which follows FBI agent Ford Holden through his groundbreaking research in the 1970s), the 2007 film Zodiac (about the San Francisco killer), and the Netflix series Manhunt, which humanizes the infamous Unabomber, Ted Kaczynski (and which I mentioned in an earlier post). There are lots more, and some I have not even checked out yet.
For some reason, I am able to “shut it off” pretty easily after reading or watching serial killer tales. However, if you’re more likely to lie awake and afraid afterwards, do yourself a favor and save these stories for daytime consumption!
References American Psychiatric Association (2013). Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders: Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition. Arlington, VA: American Psychiatric Association.
Canter, David (1994). Criminal Shadows: Inside the Mind of the Serial Killer. HarperCollins.
Whether you are religious or not, the documentary Amazing Grace will touch your soul. The film shows a two-night live gospel performance that Aretha Franklin did in 1972 in Watts’ New Temple Missionary Baptist Church. Even as a non-religious person, I could not argue with a statement made by Aretha’s father, Reverend Franklin, that her voice was a gift from God. And, what a gift!
When Aretha did this performance, she was already a superstar, with 11 number one singles and five Grammys. With this show and live album, she returned to her roots a gospel singer. (The Grammy-winning album also became the biggest selling disc of Aretha’s entire recording career as well as the highest selling live gospel music album of all time.) Aretha sang with the incredible Southern California Community Choir (directed by Alexander Hamilton) and gospel legend Reverend James Cleveland. On both nights of filming, the church was packed with people, including a few celebrities such as gospel superstar Clara Ward, who was a primary influence on Aretha Franklin. Ward was introduced by Cleveland and given a seat of honor in the front row. The audience on night two also included Mick Jagger and Ron Wood, who sat anonymously in the back and clapped along with the rest of the fans.
Aretha Franklin singing with the Southern California Community Choir. Rev. Cleveland is behind Franklin and to her right. Still from the movie Amazing Grace.
Although the show occurred and was filmed in 1972, the movie was not put together for many years and was not released until late 2018. This is because the live footage, shot by Sydney Pollack and his crew, couldn’t be synced with sound due to a major technical mistake. So, the footage sat in a vault for 35 years before producer Alan Elliott decided to take a stab at making it movie-ready. With Pollack’s death in 2008 and legal delays, it took another 11 years for the film to be finished.
The History of Gospel Music
The friend who saw Amazing Grace with me noted how gospel is at the root of many forms of American music, yet the majority of influential gospel musicians never got much fame or fortune. Gospel has its origins in the music of Africans who were brought to North America as slaves and indentured servants in the 1600s: Africans’ emphasis on call and response, improvisation, polyrhythms, and percussion formed the basis of gospel (among other forms of music). George Leile established the First African Baptist Church of Savannah, Georgia, the oldest Black church in North America, in 1777. However, as early as the late 1600s, Africans were being converted to Christianity, and many were fond of British Christian hymns (especially those written by Isaac Watts).
By the 1800s, African American innovation in religious music began to distinguish itself in the forms of spirituals, shouts, lined-hymns, and anthems. After slavery was abolished in America, The Fisk Jubilee Singers (organized as a fundraising effort for Fisk University in Nashville, Tennessee) went on an international tour and became the first African American religious singing group to become well known.
The early 1900s saw the birth of religious revivals, whose energetic music was key to the development of gospel music. Early gospel stars included Sister Rosetta Tharpe in the 1930s and ’40s and Mahalia Jackson and groups like Swan Silvertones, the Caravans, and the Original Gospel Harmonettes in the 1940s through the ’60s (The Golden Age of Gospel). Perhaps the most important group in popularizing gospel outside of churches was the Clara Ward Singers.
Mahalia Jackson, 1962, photographed by Carl Van Vechten.
Clara Ward, 1970.
“Oh Happy Day” was recorded in 1967 by the Northern California State Youth Choir (later dubbed the Edwin Hawkins Singers). This song almost single-handedly created the genre of contemporary gospel. Key figures in this movement included Walter Hawkins, Tramaine Hawkins, Andraé Crouch and the Disciples, the Winans, and the Clark Sisters. Reverend James Cleveland and Mattie Moss Clark helped give rise to the movement by their tireless work composing, arranging, and recording for large choirs.
The Psychology of Music
Many have written on the psychological impact music has on our emotions and well-being. Some research has shown that the structure of music can effect how we interpret and feel about messages in the lyrics (Seidel & Prinz, 2013; Sinclair et al., 2007). Researchers have also found that listening to religious music can improve the mental health of older adults (Bradshaw et al., 2015). It seems that the structure, lyrics, and cultural and spiritual associations of music all have a great impact on our psychology. As neurologist Oliver Sacks wrote,
“Humans are uniquely able to produce and enjoy music—very few other animals can do so. But not only is music one of the fundamental ways we bond with each other, it literally shapes our brains. Perhaps this is so because musical activity involves many parts of the brain (emotional, motor, and cognitive areas), even more than we use for our other great human achievement, language.”
Final Thoughts
Music is a powerful form of expression that taps into our emotions and can stir our soul. If you love music, love Aretha Franklin, love gospel, or just want to be inspired and moved, you should definitely see Amazing Grace. It’s an experience.
References
This post references the USC Libraries Digital Library website for its Gospel Music History Archive, including a timeline of the history of gospel.
Bradshaw, M., et al. (2015). Listening to religious music and mental health in later life. The Gerontologist, Volume 55, Issue 6, December 2015, Pages 961–971.
Seidel A., Prinz J. (2013). Sound morality: irritating and icky noises amplify judgments in divergent moral domains. Cognition 127, 1–5.
Sinclair R., Lovsin T., Moore S. (2007). Mood state, issue involvement, and argument strength on responses to persuasive appeals. Psychol. Rep. 101, 739–753.
The recent, untimely death of Luke Perry, 90210 heartthrob and, more recently, actor in Riverdale, sparked a wave of nostalgia and also fear about my own mortality. It also got me to thinking (probably as a way to stop thinking fearfully about my mortality) about my youth. Specifically, I was thinking about the events, media, and entertainment that shaped and defined Generation X, my generation.
BEVERLY HILLS, 90210, Luke Perry, 1990-2000, (c)Spelling Television/courtesy Everett Collection
Gen X Got a Bad Rap
The zeitgeist was cynicism and disenfranchisement. I remember as a 20-something reading countless articles saying my generation would “be the first to do worse than their parents.” We were disparaged by Baby Boomers and the media as “slackers” and told we were lazy, aimless, and self-involved. It was difficult to feel positive about the future when these were the constant messages. But, despite our apparently dismal prospects, we still managed to embrace our dark-color-clad youth. (We also proved the naysayers wrong: Gen Xers ended up being quite entrepreneurial and ambitious, helping to create the high-tech industry that fueled the 1990s economic recovery.)
Our generation was shaped by changes in the economy and workforce, such as more women working. Divorce had become more prevalent. These forces and others, such as a lack of affordable childcare, contributed to the “latchkey kid” phenomenon and less adult supervision.
We were the first generation to play video games (remember Atari??), see shows “on demand” (with the invention of VCRs), watch cable TV (on 24 hours a day!), and have home computers. Gen Xer Justin Hall invented blogging. We were the first to have MTV. In fact, in addition to being called Generation X, we were also called the “MTV Generation.” It’s no wonder so many of us grew up to create tech startups and most of us adapted fairly easily to a digital future after our analog childhoods.
The Culture That Shaped Us
The entertainment trends of the late ’80s and early ’90s reflected the complexities of the times and of our young psyches: independence, antiestablishmentarianism, cynicism, creativity. The fashion aesthetic tended toward minimalism, casualness, and subdued colors, as well as tattoos and piercings. Punk was a big influence, as was grunge, alternative rock, riot grrls, and hip hop. Britpop and goth were also part of the mix in the mid to late ’90s, as was the growing rave culture.
Nirvanariot grrrl, a zine created by Molly Neuman of the band Bratmobile
The ’90s saw an explosion of Gen Ex indie film directors, such as Spike Jonze, Richard Linklater, Sofia Coppola, Quentin Tarantino, and Kevin Smith. Although he was a Baby Boomer and not a Gen Xer, John Hughes was known for mainstream movies, such as The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Sixteen Candles, that shaped the adolescence of Generation X.
Will Smith and Alfonso Ribeiro of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air
Television also took a turn toward the quirky and independent, with unusual and sometimes subversive shows like The X-Files, The Simpsons, Northern Exposure, and Twin Peaks. Even more mainstream shows were becoming more creative: Think Ally McBeal, Quantum Leap, and Seinfeld. We saw more shows featuring African Americans, including The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, Martin, A Different World, Roc, and In Living Color. There were also the popular and increasingly gritty dramas like ER and NYPD Blue. We also saw the birth of the reality TV trend, set off by The Real World. Shows like Friends, Beverly Hills 90210, and Melrose Place set fashion trends and created sex symbols. Admit it: Some of you got a “Rachel” or “Dylan” haircut or tried to model your outfits after Kelly or Donna or Amanda.
Jennifer Aniston as “Rachel” on Friends“Mulder” and “Scully” from The X-Files
Fashion
Speaking of hair and fashion, there were so many different influences in the 1990s on both. As mentioned, many of the music, movie, and TV trends shaped what we wore and how we wanted to look. There was punk and “alternative” that sparked us to get piercings and tattoos, wear black, and color or spike our hair. The grunge movement showed up in ripped, baggy jeans; flannel; earth tones and puce green (“brown is the new black”); dark lipstick; beanie hats; Doc Martens; and vintage sweaters. There was hip hop, which led to an explosion of Adidas, gold chains, sweat suits, baggy jeans, bright colors, Kangol bucket hats, bike shorts, and gold door-knocker earrings.
Run DMC. Getty Images.
Looking Back
Nostalgia. You don’t truly understand it until you start to get older. When you’re young, you may be living in the moment or looking ahead to what’s next. Now, at 50, I find myself looking back a lot more. It’s been both fun and bittersweet thinking back to my younger days and what it meant to be Gen X in the 1990s. I feel sad at the loss of Luke Perry and others close to my age who are gone before their time. A reminder to appreciate the now, even while looking back.
With Halloween coming, many people’s minds are on monsters, witches, and scary movies. Just why do people love horror movies? Actually, only about 30 percent of people in the U.S. do. According to Dr. Glenn Sparks, a professor at Purdue University, a third of people seek out scary movies, about a third hate them, and another third could take them or leave them. Full disclosure: I am somewhere between “hate” and “meh” when it comes to horror movies. Definitely not my favorite genre. But, I am always interested in why people do what they do and like what they like.
Arousal
Dr. Margee Kerr, a sociologist who studies, writes, and talks about fear, believes some love horror because fear stimulates the body’s “fight or flight” response. While the feeling of fear in a real-life dangerous scenario is unpleasant, in a controlled situation, like watching a scary movie, fight or flight causes the body to release dopamine, leading to good feelings.
Sparks states that it’s not the fear itself that makes film viewers feel good–it’s the relief after the scare is over. This fits with the “excitation transfer theory,” which states that arousal caused by one stimulus can intensify the excitation response to a different stimulus because the excitement from the first stimulus remains. In other words, the (usually unpleasant) jolt of fear a viewer feels when the bad guy axes a victim produces chemicals that arouse the body. This physical arousal continues after the shock is over, leading to heightened feelings of relief and pleasure: Just think about how people often laugh just after screaming during a horror film.
The Taboo
Horror film critic and co-producer of the movie Found Footage 3D, Scott Weinberg, has a different theory about the love of scary movies. He believes that it’s the illicit nature of horror flicks that explains their appeal. There is a thrill in doing something that you’re “not supposed to” do. The themes of horror movies are typically death, danger, paranoia, the dark side of human nature–things that are often considered taboo. Add to this the fact that many horror movies intertwine sex and sensuality with death and horror, adding to their seductive, and disturbing, nature. Just think of all the horror films in which the monster is alluring (like a vampire), or those in which the teens having sex are the most likely to be killed (e.g., Friday the Thirteenth). Many people have a desire to seek out what is forbidden, or they at least have a sense of curiosity about things that are outside the typical realm of everyday life.
Politics?
Interestingly, freelance writer and actor Hugo postulates that in the United States, horror flicks are more popular and/or more likely to be produced during Republican presidencies. He states that two of the top three horror flicks according to IMDb (Internet Movie Database) came out during Republican administrations, as did three of the top five horror films according to Rotten Tomatoes. He states that this may be because “… [Republican presidents] presided over incredible moments and turbulent times in history. These times have been consequential and sometimes scary. These conditions expose society and bring about a sense of vulnerability.” If it’s true that Republican administrations see more turbulence, perhaps these are times in which people need the controlled thrills of horror as an escape from reality, or the themes of horror reflect the anxieties that are more prevalent during these eras.
I am not sure whether the years under Republican leadership have always been more turbulent than those under Democrats. I do know that most Republicans are conservatives, and conservativism, by nature, involves a resistance to social change. This resistance often comes with fears of others and of the unknown, as well as a sense of the world as dangerous. Perhaps the same social trends that prompt the American people to elect a conservative leader make them more likely to be attracted to horror movies, which tap into our fears of being killed and tortured by a dangerous “other.”
Regardless of whether Hugo’s theory is correct, movies often do depict, directly or indirectly, what is happening in society at the time. For instance, a lot of the “invasion” movies of the 1950s and 1960s reflected fears of communism and subversives, such as the horror film Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Filmed in 1956, it is the most popular of several similar movies (e.g., Invasion of the Saucer Men, The Brain Eaters, and Invaders from Mars) in which aliens take over the minds and bodies of the people of Earth, reflecting Cold War paranoia. Another good example of a film reflecting the political or social climate is Jordan Peele’s critically acclaimed 2017 Get Out, which used both horror and black comedy to expose the myth of a post-racial United States amidst renewed media attention to and activism around racism and violence against black people.
Summing Up
So, going back to the point made at the beginning of this post that about 30 percent of Americans like scary movies, one could assume that this 30 percent is made up of thrill-seekers, or one could theorize that the Trump era is a time in which fear and paranoia are on the rise, making us more likely to seek out horror.
Whatever the explanation, horror movie season is upon us. Whether you are a horror lover, a horror hater, or indifferent to scary movies, I hope that you get some thrills this Halloween season and/or find some ways to escape from any anxieties you may be feeling about the current social and political times in which we live.
This post references the following pieces:
“Republican Administrations Beget Better Horror Films” by Hugo in the online publication Medium, August 3, 2018.
“The Psychology of Scary Movies” by Jason Bailey in the online publication Flavorwire, October 27, 2016.
Today, I saw the movie Blaze, a biopic about the country musician Blaze Foley, born Michael David Fuller, who never achieved fame but had some influential on other “outlaw” country singers, such as Merle Haggard and Willie Nelson. I’m not a huge country music fan, but I have come to appreciate it more as I’ve gotten older and broader in my musical tastes, particularly classic country and a few country artists who cross over to Americana, folk, and bluegrass, such as Lucinda Williams, Dolly Parton, and Emmylou Harris. Blaze Foley’s music provided a soundtrack and emotional anchor to much of the movie Blaze. It was a touching and meandering film that was skillfully directed by actor and director Ethan Hawke. Hawke’s style of storytelling through multiple voices and songs, as well as atmospheric visuals, made the viewer feel as though they were swimming in a timeless world in which it was sometimes difficult to tell when the multiple storylines were taking place and difficult to feel the accurate passing of time.
The story of Blaze Foley felt more archetypal than specific: How many countless tales have been told of sensitive and tortured artists who can’t survive in the “real” daytime world of making ends meet and creating healthy relationships but instead exist in the nocturnal world of neon lights and spotlights, the haze of cigarettes, and the heightened emotion of music? Alternating between pithy koans and mumbled drunken gibberish, the characters drift through scenes of their past, present, and future in overlapping narratives that, between a few moments of sweetness and connection, mostly sink deeper into the hopelessness and aimlessness that brings us to an inevitable unhappy ending.
If it sounds like a depressing downer, that’s only part of the story: There’s no denying that the story is a tragedy and echoes the tragedies of so many other artists (and non-artists) who succumb to emotional and mental decline and substance abuse. But, there is beauty woven throughout. There is simple magic in the scenes of Blaze living with his girlfriend, then wife, Sybil, in a “treehouse” in rural Georgia. There is simple beauty in the music. And, the visuals reveal a decaying, ramshackle beauty in the rundown streets of 1970s Austin, the glow of red in a bar room, and the peaceful forests of Georgia.
I found the introduction of the character of Sybil to be fascinating, as she, an actress, is first shown practicing a monologue that expresses a sadly codependent version of love, leaving the viewer to wonder whether she will turn out to be subsumed by Blaze’s demons. Instead, Sybil turns out to be a sad but strong figure, who serves early on as Blaze’s muse and champion, encouraging him to move to Austin to try and make it as a singer. The scenes of their romance depict two equals well matched and living in a beautiful “paradise” in which their poverty and lack of modern comforts only makes their passionate love affair more romantic. Eventually, Sybil moves on when Blaze’s drinking, drugging, touring, and infidelity become too much for her. Rather than being destroyed by Blaze’s decline, she chooses to save herself and jump ship. It’s no surprise that Sybil (expertly played by Alia Shawkat) is a compelling and nuanced character, as Hawke cowrote the screenplay with Sybil Rosen, Blaze Foley’s ex-wife (and much of the film is based on Rosen’s 2008 memoir).
Like any good piece of art, Blaze took me on an emotional journey and left me wanting to know more about this talented man, who was too damaged to exist in this world. And, it left me thinking about love, heartbreak, and why some can overcome their traumas and others never rise from the ashes of their past. It also left me wanting to listen to more music by Foley and by artists he influenced. I didn’t know until today that the song “Drunken Angel” by Lucinda Williams, one of my favorites of hers, was written for Foley. Check out the film trailer below, as well as a video of Williams doing a live version of the song.
Today, I saw the film The Skate Kitchen. It was interesting in that it harkened back to the pseudo-documentary, naturalistic style of Kids but with less menace. The plot was slow and meandering. The acting was amateurish but believable. The story was unique in that it followed a teenage girl, Camille, who finds herself and her community through skateboarding. On reading more about the movie, I learned that the members of Camille’s crew in the film are part of a real-life skating collective that lends the movie its title. So, like Kids, The Skate Kitchen makes use of non-actors to lend some credibility to the characters. But unlike Kids, The Skate Kitchen imbues most of the teens (and adults) with good intentions, even when they screw up and hurt others. While not an overtly feminist movie, there was a strong message of “girl power” in that the female characters were defined more by their love of skating and their friendships than by their relationships to the male skaters. I was also struck by the ways in which the teens took care of each other in the absence of many strong, secure, reliable parents.
If you’re looking for thrills and fast-paced action, The Skate Kitchen may not deliver, although the skate scenes are entertaining and there is a somewhat titillating group make-out scene. Our heroine, Camille, is relatively chaste, and the film is more about loyalty, being true to oneself, and reparation than it is about thrills. It is not the most captivating movie I have seen this year, but I enjoyed it. Its slow pace and message of female friendship and identity was a refreshing change from a lot of “teen movies.”
If you haven’t seen the movie Blindspotting, written by and starring Daveed Diggs and Rafael Casal, I highly recommend it. I was blown away by this film, which manages to be touching, complex, and also funny while highlighting the important and timely social issues of racism, police brutality, classism, gentrification, and gun violence. Set in Oakland, California, the movie is about two lifelong friends, Collin (Daveed Diggs) and Miles (Rafael Casal), and the three days that could make or break Collin’s getting off of a year’s probation for a chance at a new beginning. I learned that Diggs and Casal, like the characters they play, are longtime friends, and that this was the debut feature film by director Carlos López Estrada.
Having recently visited Oakland, a city in which I lived for 5 years, I was excited to see some familiar places and scenes. I love the diversity, culture, art, music, food, and laidback feel of Oakland and grew to really love living there. I am also aware that my living in Oakland and a lot of the things I love about it are the result of gentrification, which gave me pause in thinking about my part in some of the problems highlighted in the movie.
I won’t write much about the film so as not to spoil it for anyone who plans to see it (in fact, you may not even want to watch the trailer, as it gives a lot away), but I will say that I will be thinking about the multi-layered stories and themes, as well as some powerful dream sequence scenes, for a long time.
