Introduction To summarise some possible interpretations, very quickly, music videos are very diverse, as you will know, probably far better than I do. They can be seen as documentary-like records of performances, as 'extended advertisements', as popular art forms, virtually indistinguishable from prestige experimental shorts (Peter Gabriel videos are often cited here, or those produced by experimental filmmakers like the Brothers Quay (on the Aardman Animations collection tape)or Derek Jarman for the Pet Shop Boys),or as witty, self-referential filmic texts (Madonna videos or The Making of Thriller).Amid the complexity, there have been at least two main frameworks developed to help us read these videos. Marxist readings
The first one draws on marxist work
on popular music and popular culture. try file
on Althusser or Gramsci Although
the details vary, it is fair to say that this approach sees the music video
in terms of the familiar techniques of consumer capitalism, embedded still
in a mode of production. A music video can be grasped as an advertisement
to promote specific commodities (songs or groups), as a means to involve
and manipulate viewers (so as to deliver an audience or to widen and build
one). Writers like Jhally (in Angus and Jhally 1989) or Straw (in Frith
et al 1993) emphasise these commercial aspects and see music videos as
offering a chance to harness some new technology and to exploit new market
opportunities.
If the visual components add anything,
they are best understood as attempts to domesticate the meaning of rock
music, to win back control over the subversive elements of rock (which
usually expressed themselves best in live concert performances). The Hendrix
performance of Electric Stars and Stripes (the one he delivered at Woodstock),
say could be read as a subversive attempt to redefine American nationhood
to include references to drugs, youth, urban riots, and above all, black
hippies like himself, and the performance also broke the neat and tidy
boundaries of packaged music - it straggled out of a kind of ragged jam
session, with references to Hey Joe, it went on far longer than the standard
three and a half minutes, and it looked like it was just Hendrix and a
few other musicians playing for themselves and their fans, 'authentically'.
The visuals that accompany the playing offer a roaming scan over the emptying
fields at Woodstock, depictions of the few scruffy rock fans left, some
still camping or smoking among piles of rubbish.
On rock videos that feature 'performance
clips' as Goodwin calls them (Frith et al 1993), (such as Huey Lewis's
and the News' The Power of Love, to take one I have viewed recently)
the whole performance is edited, mixed, standardised, sanitised, and delivered
with a range of cliché shots of the audience looking beautiful,
young, sexy and ecstatic ,just as the record companies want them: no hints
of any subversive drug taking youthful rebellion here, and only carefully
staged scenes of 'authenticity' in the performer as they play for a select
audience, for the camera, and, probably, for the fourth or fifth take.
The rock video might also represent
another stage in the struggle between commerce and artistic expression,
in another variant of the myth of subversion: as Straw points out, you
need substantial funds to make a video (far more than the apocryphal bedroom
demo tape that led to fame and fortune on the John Peel show), and record
companies can use videos to stress the value of specific songs rather than
groups or individual artistes. This limits any autonomy (and high earnings)
that established stars could claim, which was one of the themes in the
recent court case over the contract between George Michael and Sony Corporation.
Those songs can be surrounded by
definitely ideological signifiers (especially those centred on young female
bodies), or, more recently the signifiers of 'art', added by 'someone who's
read a coffee-table book on Magritte and has probably seen a few film noirs'
according to an interview by Scarlett-Davis, cited in Berland (in Frith
et al 1993). In this way 'music video ...result[s] in a diminishing of
the interpretive liberty of the individual music listener' in Straw's summary
of such criticism (Frith et al 1993:3).
As is the way of marxist analysis,
especially its gramscian variant, a more optimistic reading is also possible,
however. Here, to borrow Fiske's particular arguments, (Fiske 1987, 1989a
1989b) music video shares the dilemmas of much modern television output:
briefly, in order to be popular, such output must avoid too closed a set
of meanings. Instead, it must seek to become deliberately open, to leave
room for the viewers' own meanings, to become 'producerly' rather than
'writerly'. There is a structured potential for 'recontextualisation' to
revert to Straw's commentary for a moment, the ability for the viewer to
deny the preferred meanings of a video (in this case), and to add their
own. This is lent strength by the other main theme Fiske borrowed from
Barthes, which we have discussed earlier - the shift to the audience as
the sole producers of meaning. This adds the necessary competencies to
the structured possibilities, so to speak. Finally, there is a popular
cultural capital too which empowers viewers and enables them to resist
bourgeois meanings. Together, these add up to a picture of the audience
as able and willing to impose alternative, and even subversive meanings
on the open and playful texts they see and know so well.
Some artists are particularly adept
at manipulating the possibilities too, hence the admiration of Fiske (and
many others - eg see Schwichtenburg 1993)) for Madonna videos which, a
close analysis will reveal, look as if they simply reproduce conventional
themes of sexiness or romance, but which really subvert both of these by
clever ambiguities, ironies and a skilled playfulness which 'purifies commodities
into signifiers' (Fiske 1989a:192). Young women in the audience have responded,
according to Fiske, and have begun to use music videos as raw materials
for their own decidedly empowering fantasies and their own daily sexual
politics, in a kind of escalation of consciousness begun by the Madonna
video.
There are, of course, problems with
this analysis as many commentators have pointed out (including me in Harris
1992). Straw offers two main problems: first that recontextualisers are
going to be limited in their abilities to reinterpret music videos by their
own levels of 'ingenuity and connoisseurship' (Frith et al 1993:19), and
secondly by casting doubt about the escalation scenario. It is more likely,
says Straw, that the playful identities on offer will be experienced 'serially'
(ie one after the other) and pluralistically, that they will be compartmentalized
and managed without producing any crisis (as suggested in earlier chapters).
In practice, it is going to be very hard to know which types of viewers
are going to dominate -- the newly-radicalised Madonna fans Fiske quotes,
or the types depicted in Beavis and Butthead.
It is possible to work in another
theme here too, by considering the work of 'socially conscious' rock musicians,
especially that of Peter Gabriel. Gabriel's videos have won awards for
their artistic qualities, and their deployment of avant-garde or experimental
techniques. Sledgehammer, for example, displayed the work of award-winning
animators like Aardman Animations and the Brothers Quay: the video used
a characteristic form of animation involving the use of everyday objects
like vegetables or furniture in a technique clearly borrowed from the Czech
surrealist and dissident Jan Svankmajer. Gabriel continued to innovate
and experiment, of course, and has recently developed a (rare) multi-media
innovation in the CD-i/rock video.
In his collection Talking about US,
the actual videos are accompanied by some discussion about the processes
of making them. In the case of The Blood of Eden, Gabriel tells us that
the theme is one of unity and separation between men and women, and his
hope for a reunion, using the Biblical story about the Fall. These ideas
were amended and developed in discussion with a number of advisers and
directors and with his co-performer on the video Sinead O'Connor. The sculptor
Zadok
Although we have only these short
discussions by the participants to guide us, accounts like this seem to
be describing the effects of a 'production formation' rather like the one
identified in the Bennett and Woollacott analysis of Bond movies discussed
above. A similar conclusion can be drawn from the detailed discussions
of the production of music videos for Wham!! (BFI 1989) Do these mixtures
of artistic inputs and specialist aesthetics lead to the same conclusions
as for Bond movies -- that we have here a process of disembedding, of emerging
cultural autonomy away from any immediate connections with commercialism
and thence ideology?
It is clear that marxist analysis
could interpret these apparently autonomous artistic endeavours in terms
of the old debates about reproduction and incorporation, as Goodwin (1987)
clearly recommends. We have hinted at this debate earlier, and much turns
on whether the artistic experimental elements are sufficient to escape
the controls of the culture industry concerned, whether they can indeed
force a moment of shock in the viewer, or whether they will be interpreted
simply as titillation or pleasurable scandal. Whatever the case in general,
there are good reasons for being pessimistic with music videos specifically,
says Goodwin, since the music part of the music video is so conservative,
as we shall see.
There are exceptions, of course.
Goodwin (1987) refers to the role of rock music in raising consciousness
via Live Aid, and there are lively struggles over gender identities for
both men and women in music TV (see the pieces by Walser and Lewis respectively
in Frith et al. 1993),
Postmodernist readings
file on this too
Goodwin and others in the Frith collection
proceed to demolish this simple recognition technique, however. To be brief,
it all turns on a process of selectively emphasising the visual elements
of music videos and ignoring the music altogether. The music is far more
conservative, still typically a classic song lasting the regulation three
and a half minutes, still with the usual tightly structured patterns of
verses and chorus, repetitions and standardised scales, still with noticeably
standard themes in the lyrics -- romance, youthful distress, sentimentality
and paranoia , 'big world and little me' (to cite Berland in Frith et al.
1993).
The musical form structures the visual
images in ways which cannot be seen very easily if you are coming to the
music video from classical film theory, say s Goodwin. In the easiest example,
the music video confines itself to the limits of the song and becomes a
mere little text on a discrete tape, rather than, say the really experimental
forms found in 'installation art'. More subtly, visuals can imitate the
conventions of modern rock performances, with characteristic crescendos
(explosions, bursts of light) and lighting effects. This helps understand
the more difficult examples -- the emotional strategies of popular music
affect the flow of images too, in musical versions of narratives. We have
already discussed one aspect of this, perhaps, in Frith's earlier discussion
of the overlay edit technique in video as an analogy of the mixing of tracks
in music. The absence of classic film-type narratives has been misinterpreted
as an absence of any kind of narrative structure, and the intertextual
elements should also be understood musically (there are many types of intertextual
reference anyway, Goodwin reminds us in his 1987 piece, including tributes,
quotes, homage, and, for that matter, still some old-fashioned parody).
In a similar way, MTV can not be
grasped simply as a manifestation of a postmodernist sensibility somehow
struggling to express itself, but as a definite development of the music
industry. Again, to be brief, 'postmodernism' is best seen in an early
phase of MTV, associated with a particular style of music and innovative
videos associated with 'New Pop' in the early 1980s. MTV very rapidly diversified
and became more conventional under market pressures, leaving 'pomo rock'
as a mere sales category (rather like its predecessor 'college radio'),
or 'Postmodern MTV' as a conventional attempt to partition the viewing
audience(Goodwin 1991). Straw and the others in Frith et al 1993, and other
commentators like Laing 1985 offer a detailed materialist analysis of this
kind to explain, to their satisfaction at least, the twists and turns of
the marketing strategies of the music industry, including its rather extended
experiments with film and video before MTV, as embedding many of the apparently
autonomous cultural changes visible in music television.
Conclusions
The audience remains to be investigated,
and the viewing conditions, but there is one final argument in favour of
what Frith calls a 'production aesthetics' approach. Many fans are musicians
themselves, actively playing music for fun and as part of a wider fantasy
(Frith in Grossberg et al. 1992): the production of music serves as an
element of the context in which fans consume professionally produced music,
in other words.
References
|