Actor Jonathan Joss (King of the Hill, Parks & Rec, Magnificent Seven) Discusses Indigenous American Representation on Pretty Much Pop Podcast #7
Jonathan built his career playing 19th century American Indians on horseback and is best known for his voice acting as John Redcorn III in King of the Hill (starting season 2) and then for his recurring role as Chief Ken Hotate in Parks and Recreation. Erica Spyres, Mark Linsenmayer, and Brian Hirt talk to him about those roles plus acting in The Magnificent Seven, True Grit, and his current role as Sitting Bull in Annie Get Your Gun (also featuring Erica) currently running at the Bay Street Theater in Sag Harbor.
Jonathan talks about Hollywood’s record and progress in portraying indigenous Americans, his own struggles to get native views reflected in the works he’s participated in and the differences between acting on stage vs. film and TV. When is an anachronistic work too far gone to update it, and is it even legitimate to try?
The actor in the film Minutes that Mark refers to is comedian Tatanka Means. Jonathan brings up native author/activist John Trudell, and Erica brings up the play Tribes about the deaf community.
Ishkur’s Guide to Electronic Music: An Interactive, Encyclopedic Data Visualization of 120 Years of Electronic Music
In a very short span of time, the descriptor “electronic music” has come to sound as overly broad as “classical.” But where what we (often incorrectly) call classical developed over hundreds of years, electronic music proliferated into hundreds of fractal forms in only decades. A far steeper quality curve may have to do with the ease of its creation, but it’s also a factor of this accelerated evolution.
Music made by machines has transformed since its early 20th-century beginnings from obscure avant-garde experiments to massively popular genres of global dance and pop. This proliferation, notes Ishkur—designer of Ishkur’s Guide to Electronic Music—hasn't always been to the good. Take what he calls “trendwhoring,” a phenomenon that spawns dozens of new works and subgenera in short order, though it’s arguable whether many of them should exist.
Ishkur, describes this process below in an excerpt from his erudite, sardonic “Frequently Unasked Questions”:
If fart noises were suddenly popular, each scene would trendwhore it with fartstep, fartcore, techfart, farthouse, fart trance, etc. It is especially noticeable in classic tracks that are remixed into modern genres, which some might consider sacreligious. A good example is the Dream Trance hit Robert Miles - Children, in which there is now a Hardstyle version, a Dutch House version, a McProg version, a Eurotrance version, a Goa Trance version, and even a Snap version and a shitty Brostep version. None of these genres existed when the original song came out in 1995.
Viciously irreverent tone and completist attention to detail are typical throughout thisencyclopedia, an interactive Flash flowchart that chronicles the development of 100s of genres, subgenres, microgenres, etc., with streaming musical examples of every one. It’s a deeply researched, and continually expanding project first created by Ishkur, aka Kenneth John Taylor, in 1999. In 2003, Taylor updated and expanded the project and moved it to its current location. He has continuously updated it since then.
The recorded examples on Taylor’s timeline currently span around 80 years, from 1937 to 2019—a tiny drop in the great ocean of musical history. Nonetheless, the music shows how rich and complex electronic music history truly is, despite its potential—as its developmental speed (and tempos) increased—to produce disposable, derivative compositions as much as chart-burning classics and innovative, mind-expanding creative work.
As you zoom into the chart and click on the dots next to each genre, you’ll have the option to pull up Taylor’s witty guides, as informative as they are unsparingly critical. He explains “Chill Out,” for example, as a grab-bag term for electronic easy listening that “goes down easy like a fresh glass of cool lemonade or lightly sprinkled vanilla sundae…. Not only did it appeal to post-comedown party kids but their moms too, as heard in movie soundtracks, advertisement jingles, or played over the radio while shopping at the market.”
Does he approve of any forms of electronic music? Obviously. No one would spend this much time and effort and amass “30 years of back issues of Electronic Music and Keyboard magazine” and “an ungodly number of books” on a subject they despised. It’s just that he’s… well, a purist, you might say. Any media, for example, of any kind, that “uses the acronym ‘EDM,’” he writes “is complete donkey balls and should not be relied on as a source for anything.” He's also ambitiously comprehensive, including Hip Hop and all of its variants in the mix, a move most historians of electronic music do not make, for fear of getting it wrong, perhaps, or because of cultural biases and narrow ideas about what electronic music is.
The data visualization crossed with extensive pop musicology crossed with an almost quaint kind of ultra-nerdy online snark has something for everyone. But don’t call it art, as one interviewer did. “I feel uneasy about this,” Ishkur answered. “It’s a joke more than anything. Very funny. Very silly. I poke fun at a lot of genres. It’s meant to be entertainment.” This is the standard internet disclaimer, but if you follow the guide’s branching streams through hundreds of expanding genres and scenes, you might just find you’ve become a serious student of electronic music yourself, while learning not to take any of it too seriously.
Ishkur's guide has recently been updated for 2019. He's also released a "15 hour DJ set of electronic music," he announced on Twitter, "spanning several eras and a wide range of genres, all mixed in that inimitable Ishkur style." Get the mixhere.
Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue at 60: A New Video Essay Celebrates the 60th Anniversary of the Iconic Album
As Josh Jones observed yesterday, Miles Davis' legendary jazz album Kind of Blueturns 60 this week. Today, we want to keep the party going a little longer and feature this video essay from Sweetwater. They write:
In 1959, Miles Davis went to Columbia Records in Manhattan to forge a new style of music improvisation. With the company of other legendary musicians, like John Coltrane and Bill Evans, Kind of Blue was recorded; the greatest selling jazz album of all time. Miles chose to take an interpretive dance approach to improvisation, developing ideas and using space to create his unique style. This new style of modal jazz pushed musicians to express themselves through melodic creativity. Take a look into the history and music theory of Kind of Blue with Sweetwater's Jacob Dupre (piano/trumpet), accompanied by Michael Patterson (bass) and Sean Parr (drums). Karl Stabnau (alto sax) performs the solo on "Blues For Alice," as played by Charlie Parker.
Would you like to support the mission of Open Culture? Please consider making a donation to our site. It's hard to rely 100% on ads, and your contributions will help us continue providing the best free cultural and educational materials to learners everywhere.
Also consider following Open Culture on Facebook andTwitter and sharing intelligent media with your friends. Or sign up for our daily email and get a daily dose of Open Culture in your inbox.
See How Zildjian Cymbals Are Made In a Fascinating 10-Minute Short Film
In terms of brand recognition, one has to admit it is remarkable that the name Zildjian—stamped on millions of cymbals worldwide—has such wide cultural currency. The product this company makes is not one most people get very close to outside of a drum kit in a grade school music room. You never see Zildjian advertisements, unless you are a musician, and you won’t encounter a Zildjian cymbal at your local all-in-one big box store. Yet Zildjian cymbals might even be more famous than iconic brands of electric guitars like Fender and Gibson or amps like Marshall and Vox.
Why is that? It’s easy, the company was founded 400 years ago in Constantinople and has remained in the Zildjian family since an alchemist named Avedis was given the surname by Sultan Osman II in the early 17th century. In all that time, Mozart praised Zildjians (then just called “Turkish cymbals”), they appeared at London’s Great Exhibition, and they have been essential to the kits of jazz and rock drummers for as long as both genres have existed. It will never be possible to buy this kind of publicity.
How has Zildjian, who incorporated in the U.S. in 1929, stayed in business so long and continued to maintain such a reputation for quality? It’s all down, they say, to a secret recipe, passed down from generation to generation, descended from Avedis himself, whose name graces the Avedis Varteresian Melting Room, where Zildjian castings are made. You can watch what happens to those castings in the fascinating 10-minute video above. “Only 4 factory employees and the owners of the company are allowed inside” the Melting Room, notes the video’s YouTube page, “due to their knowledge of the ‘Zildjian Secret.’”
We do not learn the secret recipe, nor do we learn how a trade secret can be kept for 400 years, but we do see Zildjians heated, rolled out, shaped, cut, hammered, lathed, finished, and, finally, “stamped with the Zildjian Logo as well as the model/size of the cymbal.” It’s generally pretty cool to watch unremarkable, everyday products go through the many stages of a factory production process. Watching the Zildjian process adds a layer of historical legend and intrigue, and the allure of seeing raw materials transformed into objects of visual and aural beauty.
See Zildjian’s YouTube page for a timestamped commentary on each step in the production.
The Restaurant of Mistaken Orders: A Tokyo Restaurant Where All the Servers Are People Living with Dementia
If you've ever been to Japan, you'll know that in Japanese restaurants, mistakes are not made. And on the off chance that a mistake is made, even a trivial one, the lengths that proprietors will go to make things right with their customers must, in the eyes of a Westerner, be seen to be believed. But as its name suggests, the Tokyo pop-up Restaurant of Mistaken Orders does things a bit differently. "You might think it's crazy. A restaurant that can't even get your order right," says its English introduction page. "All of our servers are people living with dementia. They may, or may not, get your order right."
Un-Japanese though that concept may seem at first, it actually reflects realities of Japanese society in the 21st century: Japan has an aging population with an already high proportion of elderly people, and that puts it on track to have the fastest growing number of prevalent cases of Alzheimer's Disease.
Whole towns have already begun to structure their services around a growing number of citizens with dementia. But dementia itself remains "widely misunderstood," says Restaurant of Mistaken Orders producer Shiro Oguni in the "concept movie" at the top of the post. "People believe you can't do anything for yourself, and the condition will often mean isolation from society. We want to change society to become more easy-going so, dementia or no dementia, we can live together in harmony."
You can see more of the Restaurant of Mistaken Orders in last year's "report movie" just above, which shows its team of servers with dementia in action. Some shown are in middle age, some are in their tenth decade of life, but all seem to have a knack for building rapport with their customers — a skill that anyone who has ever worked front-of-the-house in a restaurant will agree is essential, especially when mistakes happen. We see them deliver orders both correct and incorrect, but the diners seem to enjoy the experience either way: "37% of our orders were mistaken," the restaurant reports, "but 99% of our customers said they were happy." This contains another truth about Japanese food culture that anyone who has eaten in Japan will acknowledge: whatever you order, the chance of its being delicious is approximately 100%.
Based in Seoul, Colin Marshall writes and broadcasts on cities, language, and culture. His projects include the book The Stateless City: a Walk through 21st-Century Los Angeles and the video series The City in Cinema. Follow him on Twitter at @colinmarshall or on Facebook.
