Stream Joni Mitchell’s Complete Discography: A 17-Hour Playlist Moving from Song to a Seagull (1968) to Shine (2007)

In “Fear of a Female Genius,” a recent essay on Joni Mitchell, Lind­say Zoladz explains why “one of the great­est liv­ing artists in pop­u­lar music still isn’t prop­er­ly rec­og­nized.” If you’re think­ing that has some­thing to do with gen­der bias, it does. But there’s so much more to Mitchell’s com­plex sto­ry. Those who ful­ly embrace her are an eclec­tic group with lean­ings, like Mitchell, toward folk, jazz, clas­si­cal, and instru­men­tal music world­wide: some­times all at once. Despite occa­sion­al breezy plain­spo­ken­ness, she nev­er makes for easy lis­ten­ing.

Her albums take us on wind­ing jour­neys through pecu­liar­ly evoca­tive lyri­cal tableaus, rich with unex­pect­ed, even jar­ring, images. Even the most acces­si­ble songs—for exam­ple, Court and Spark’s Burt Bacharach-like “Help Me”—spin like ver­ti­go-induc­ing roller coast­ers, lit­tle gyres pow­ered by bound­less cre­ative ener­gy. Her most pop­u­lar tunes glow with a world­ly-wise inten­si­ty all their own. Hear them all, from 1968’s Song to a Seag­ull to 2007’s Shine, in the 18-hour Spo­ti­fy playlist below. Or access it direct­ly here.

The idio­syn­crat­ic beau­ty of Mitchell’s music, woven from shim­mer­ing tonal pat­terns, shift­ing polyrhythms, and odd tim­ings and tun­ings, defies the labels we might apply. “I think when you lis­ten to Court and Spark,” says Bar­ney Hoskyns, edi­tor of a new anthol­o­gy of writ­ing about Mitchell, “you can’t real­ly sit there and say, ‘Well this is just pop music.’ You have to think of it on a lev­el with the great­est art that’s been done in the last hun­dred years.” If Bob Dylan “is sort of Shake­speare,” Hoskyns says, “then Joni Mitchell is Mil­ton… or Dante,” two writ­ers whose labyrinthine verse often pos­es sig­nif­i­cant chal­lenges for read­ers.

These kinds of “crass analo­gies,” as Hoskyns terms it, might seem off-putting and pre­ten­tious. But if it seems like Mitchell’s name appears more in the com­pa­ny of famous men than women, it’s an asso­ci­a­tion she made her­self.  “Most of my heroes are mon­sters, unfor­tu­nate­ly,” she has said, “and they are men.” Pablo Picas­so, Miles Davis, Charles Min­gus, whose sur­name Mitchell took for the title of her tenth album…. “This kind of male-hero wor­ship,” writes Zoladz, “has made Mitchell a dif­fi­cult fig­ure to some fem­i­nist crit­ics.”

Indeed, there is some­thing “inter­net-proof” about Mitchell—her “unruli­ness” and unwill­ing­ness to remain in one place, to play the roles assigned her, to adopt hip stances, pan­der, or deny her­self the free­dom to move in unfa­mil­iar artis­tic direc­tions, mak­ing dis­cov­er­ies and risk­ing mis­steps more cau­tious artists would avoid.

Chuck Mitchell, the estranged ex-hus­band and musi­cal part­ner who seemed to resent her incred­i­ble tal­ent, called her odd tun­ings “mys­ti­cal.” But she resists the char­ac­ter­i­za­tion of her play­ing as strange. “How can there be weird chords?” she asks; “these chords that I heard inside that suit­ed me—they feel like my feel­ings.” As much as her work has emerged from her admi­ra­tion of male heroes and col­lab­o­ra­tors, it has also been defined by escape from the restric­tions men in her life might place on her, from Mitchell to Gra­ham Nash, whose mar­riage pro­pos­al she declined. “As much as I loved and cared for Gra­ham,” she remem­bered lat­er, “I just thought, I’m gonna end up like my grand­moth­er, kick­ing the door off the hinges, you know what I mean? It’s like, I bet­ter not.”

Albums like Heji­ra—her ver­sion of an Ara­bic word mean­ing some­thing like “jour­ney to a bet­ter place”—and The Hiss­ing of Sum­mer Lawns, with its night­mare vision of domes­tic­i­ty, doc­u­ment Mitchell’s release from the snares of mar­riage. But it has been dif­fi­cult for the 21st cen­tu­ry to come to terms with her for oth­er rea­sons. Her casu­al appro­pri­a­tion of cul­tur­al tropes and her deci­sion to appear in lit­er­al black­face, not only at a Hal­loween par­ty but on the cov­er of 1977’s Don Juan’s Reck­less Daugh­ter, have been called marks of poor taste, at best. Her albums became increas­ing­ly exper­i­men­tal in the late 70s, show­cas­ing a pas­tiche of influ­ences and guest musi­cians over­lay­ing her already unusu­al musi­cal­i­ty, and alien­at­ing many of her fans.

As she left behind the “con­fes­sion­al” voice of albums like 1971’s crit­i­cal­ly-vaunt­ed Blue and head­ed into weird­er ter­ri­to­ry, she lost lis­ten­ers and crit­ics, who sav­aged abstract projects like The Hiss­ing of Sum­mer Lawns, only to find, forty years lat­er, that these were essen­tial works of art pushed aside by the weight of expec­ta­tion. Mitchell had been push­ing against that weight her entire life. Like some oth­er unique­ly tal­ent­ed guitarists—Django Rein­hardt, Tony Iommi—her style devel­oped around a dis­abil­i­ty, in her case a left hand weak­ened by the polio she had as a child in Cana­da. “So she invent­ed her own way of play­ing,” writes Zoladz, and invent­ed her own way of being in the music busi­ness and the world at large. “For good and at times for ill, Joni Mitchell believes she is a genius.” Spend some time with her discog­ra­phy and you may find it hard to dis­agree with her.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear the 150 Great­est Albums by Women: NPR Cre­ates a New Canon of Albums That Puts Women at the Cen­ter of Music His­to­ry

For Joni Mitchell’s 70th Birth­day, Watch Clas­sic Per­for­mances of “Both Sides Now” & “The Cir­cle Game” (1968)

Vin­tage Video of Joni Mitchell Per­form­ing in 1965 — Before She Was Even Named Joni Mitchell

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

The Raven: a Pop-up Book Brings Edgar Allan Poe’s Classic Supernatural Poem to 3D Paper Life

You know a sto­ry has stay­ing pow­er not just when when we keep telling it decades and even cen­turies after its com­po­si­tion, but when we keep telling it in new forms. Even when Edgar Allan Poe set his lit­er­ary sights on writ­ing a poem that would win both high crit­i­cal praise and a wide pop­u­lar audi­ence back in 1845, he could hard­ly have imag­ined that it would still bring haunt­ed delight to its read­ers, lis­ten­ers and even view­ers more than 170 years lat­er. But The Raven does endure, not just in the var­i­ous celebri­ty read­ings we’ve fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture but in numer­ous illus­trat­ed edi­tions, a beloved Simp­sons seg­ment, and now even a pop-up book.

Though The Raven: a Pop-up Book, illus­trat­ed and designed by Christo­pher Wormell and David Pel­ham, adapts Poe’s work of super­nat­ur­al verse into a per­haps unex­pect­ed medi­um, it does so with thor­ough­ness indeed.

Flip through it as do the hands in the video above, you’ll find spring­ing to paper life before you not just the poem’s lovelorn nar­ra­tor and the talk­ing crow who pays him a vis­it, but every ele­ment of the set­ting as well, from the fur­ni­ture and oth­er objects of the nar­ra­tor’s study — the vel­vet chair, the books, the bust of Pal­las, the lock­et with the image of lost Lenore — to the sea­side cas­tle in which this vision of the sto­ry locates it.

Those of us who haven’t opened a pop-up book since child­hood might be sur­prised to see how far its art has come. Not only would the illus­tra­tions of The Raven: a Pop Up Book hold up in a mere two dimen­sions as well, they inter­lock in three to form rel­a­tive­ly com­plex geo­met­ric struc­tures, ones that some­times move with an almost eerie hint of nat­u­ral­ness. (You may, as I did, want to watch the nar­ra­tor open his lock­et-hold­ing hand more than once.) What’s more, the design allows view­ing from more than one angle, pro­vid­ing details that those who only look at the book straight on will nev­er see. Using the archa­ic apos­tro­phe of which Poe him­self might have approved, Boing Boing’s Cory Doc­torow rec­om­mends the book “if you’re gear­ing up for Hal­lowe’en and want to get your kids in the spir­it of things” — and espe­cial­ly if those kids wrong­ly believe them­selves too old for pop-up books or too 21st-cen­tu­ry for Poe. Get your copy of  The Raven: a Pop Up Book here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Gus­tave Doré’s Splen­did Illus­tra­tions of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven” (1884)

Édouard Manet Illus­trates Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven, in a French Edi­tion Trans­lat­ed by Stephane Mal­lar­mé (1875)

A Read­ing of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven” in 100 Celebri­ty Voic­es

Edgar Allan Poe’s the Raven: Watch an Award-Win­ning Short Film That Mod­ern­izes Poe’s Clas­sic Tale

The Simp­sons Present Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven,” and Teach­ers Now Use It to Teach Kids the Joys of Lit­er­a­ture

Hear Clas­sic Read­ings of Poe’s “The Raven” by Vin­cent Price, James Earl Jones, Christo­pher Walken, Neil Gaiman, Stan Lee & More

1,000 Free Audio Books: Down­load Great Books for Free

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities 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.

The Women of the Blues: Hear a Playlist of Great Blues Singers, from Bessie Smith & Etta James, to Billie Holiday & Janis Joplin

Every­body gets the blues but not every­body gets the blues the same. Women get some seri­ous blues. Black women get some very seri­ous blues. Bessie Smith maybe had the most deep and soul­ful blues any­one ever had: “Crazy Blues,” “Down Heart­ed Blues,” “Care­less Love Blues,” “Emp­ty Bed Blues,” “Black Water Blues,” “Gulf Coast Blues,” and “St. Louis Blues,” which also hap­pens to be the title of her only known film appear­ance, as well as one of the ear­li­est talkies in cin­e­ma his­to­ry. (See a trans­port­ing acapel­la per­for­mance from the film above.)

Released in 1929, the “flawed, but absolute­ly essen­tial” film frames Smith’s char­ac­ter through the lyrics of com­pos­er W.C. Handy, wide­ly con­sid­ered the “father of the blues” for his pop­u­lar­iza­tion of the form. But Smith was more than an ancestor—she was roy­al­ty. The press in her day called her the “Empress of the Blues.”

Smith “comes off as a force of nature,” writes Mark Can­tor, “whose star­tling pow­er is rivaled in 1920s jazz and blues only by Louis Arm­strong.” Like Arm­strong, her influ­ence is incal­cu­la­ble. Sad­ly, the year she made her film appear­ance is also the year of her decline, when the Great Depres­sion hit her—and the record business—hard, and the very medi­um she helped launch, sound film, crip­pled the Vaude­ville venues that made her career.

Smith’s trag­ic end after a car acci­dent in 1937 was immor­tal­ized in Edward Albee’s 1959 The Death of Bessie Smith. Her voice lives on forever—in her record­ings and through singers from Bil­lie Hol­i­day to Janis Joplin—who paid for her grave­stone in 1970. (See Joplin’s phe­nom­e­nal “Ball and Chain,” from the Mon­terey Pop Fes­ti­val, fur­ther up.) Bessie Smith may have been Empress, but anoth­er Smith needs men­tion as the Fore­moth­er.

Despite its ori­gins in South­ern Black life and cul­ture, until 1920, notes NPR, “no black singer had been record­ed doing a blues song.” That changed when Mamie Smith record­ed “Crazy Blues.” Like Bessie, she also appeared in a 1929 talk­ing film, Jail­house Blues. (See her above mime to the title song, about that age-old prob­lem, the “no good man.”)

A num­ber of female singers haven’t made it into the canon, itself large­ly produced—as crit­ics like Lisa Hix and Aman­da Petru­sich have shown—by the selec­tion bias of an insu­lar com­mu­ni­ty of col­lec­tors. But you can hear many incred­i­ble, less-famous women of the blues appear in the Spo­ti­fy playlist fur­ther up, in the com­pa­ny of more famous names like Bessie and Mamie Smith, Hol­i­day, Joplin, Mem­phis Min­nie, Ma Rainey, Etta James, and Dinah Wash­ing­ton. Blues hounds will like­ly rec­og­nize most, if not all, of these names. More casu­al fans will be in for a treat. (Note one mis­take: the artist Bum­ble Bee Slim was a man.)

Every­one should know Koko Tay­lor, whose fierce growls and howls set Willie Dixon’s “Wang Dang Doo­dle” on fire fur­ther up in 1967 (with Lit­tle Wal­ter). And Etta James—whose “I’d Rather Go Blind,” above, gives me chills from start to finish—should have a con­stel­la­tion named after her, she’s so deserved­ly a star. We’re less like­ly to hear the name Vio­la McCoy these days (singing Bessie Smith’s “Back Water Blues,” below), whose style of blues sounds dat­ed but whose voice is as fresh as ever. Like­ly born Aman­da Brown, she sang under a hand­ful of alias­es in the 20s and 30s, none of them house­hold names.

Dozens more names appear on the playlist—Ida Cox, Alber­ta Hunter, (unfor­tu­nate­ly no Big Mama Thorn­ton or Sis­ter Roset­ta Tharpe)—all of them fab­u­lous in their own way. Giv­en this incred­i­bly rich tra­di­tion of female blues vocal­ists it should come as no sur­prise that women are cur­rent­ly keep­ing the blues alive, whether it’s the rock-soul revival­ism of the Alaba­ma Shakes’ Brit­tany Howard or the raw pow­er of Susan Tedeschi, whose “earthy, soul­ful belt­ing,” writes The Wash­ing­ton Post’s Richard Har­ring­ton, is rem­i­nis­cent of “Koko Tay­lor, Aretha Franklin and Janis Joplin,” who can all trace their musi­cal lin­eage direct­ly back to Bessie and Mamie Smith.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Women of Jazz: Stream a Playlist of 91 Record­ings by Great Female Jazz Musi­cians

Stream 35 Hours of Clas­sic Blues, Folk, & Blue­grass Record­ings from Smith­son­ian Folk­ways: 837 Tracks Fea­tur­ing Lead Bel­ly, Woody Guthrie & More

The His­to­ry of the Blues in 50 Riffs: From Blind Lemon Jef­fer­son (1928) to Joe Bona­mas­sa (2009)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Calm Down & Study with Relaxing Piano, Jazz & Harp Covers of Music from Hayao Miyazaki Films

Call­ing all pedi­atric den­tists!

Cat Trum­pet, aka musi­cian and ani­me lover Cur­tis Bon­nett, may have inad­ver­tent­ly hit on a genius solu­tion for keep­ing young patients calm in the chair: relax­ing piano cov­ers of famil­iar tunes from Stu­dio Ghibli’s ani­mat­ed fea­tures.

The results fall some­where between pianist George Winston’s ear­ly 80s sea­son­al solos and Ryuichi Sakamoto’s sound­track for the film Mer­ry Christ­mas, Mr. Lawrence. Let us remem­ber that most of these tunes were fair­ly easy on the ears to begin with. Com­pos­er Joe Hisaishi, who has col­lab­o­rat­ed with direc­tor Hayao Miyaza­ki on every Stu­dio Ghi­b­li movie save Cas­tle of Cagliostro, isn’t exact­ly a punk rock­er.

Many lis­ten­ers report that the playlist helps them stay focused while study­ing or doing home­work. Oth­ers suc­cumb to the emo­tion­al rip­tides of child­hood nos­tal­gia.

Ten­der pre­na­tal and new­born ears might pre­fer Cat Trumpet’s even gen­tler harp cov­ers of sev­en Ghi­b­li tunes, above.

Meawhile, the Japan-based Cafe Music BGM Sta­tion pro­vides hours of jazzy, bossa-nova inflect­ed Stu­dio Ghi­b­li cov­ers to hos­pi­tals, hair salons, bou­tiques, and cafes. You can lis­ten to three-and-a-half-hours worth, above. This, too, gets high marks as a home­work helper.

 

Cat Trumpet’s Relax­ing Piano Stu­dio Ghi­b­li Com­plete Col­lec­tion

00:00:03 Spir­it­ed Away — Inochi no Namae

00:04:14 Howl’s Mov­ing Cas­tle — Mer­ry Go Round of Life

00:07:16 Kik­i’s Deliv­ery Ser­vice — Town With An Ocean View

00:09:31 The Secret World of Arri­et­ty — Arri­et­ty’s Song

00:13:29 Lapu­ta Cas­tle In The Sky — Car­ry­ing You

00:17:05 Por­co Rosso — Theme

00:19:55 Whis­per of the Heart — Song of the Baron

00:22:33 Por­co Rosso — Mar­co & Gina’s Theme

00:26:19 Only Yes­ter­day — Main Theme

00:29:07 From Up On Pop­py Hill — Rem­i­nis­cence

00:34:12 Spir­it­ed Away — Shi­roi Ryuu

00:37:06 Nau­si­caä of the Val­ley of the Wind — Tori no Hito

00:41:14 Nau­si­caä of the Val­ley of the Wind —  Kaze no Denset­su

00:43:25 My Neigh­bor Totoro — Kaze no Toori Michi

00:47:48 Cas­tle of Cagliostro — Fire Trea­sure

00:51:38 Princess Mononoke — Tabidachi nishi e

00:53:07 Tales From Earth­sea — Teru’s Theme

00:58:17 My Neigh­bor Totoro — Tonari no Totoro

01:02:35 Whis­per of the Heart — Theme

01:06:03 Ponyo — Ron­do of the Sun­flower House

01:10:34 Howl’s Mov­ing Cas­tle — The Promise of the World

 

Cat Trumpet’s Relax­ing Harp Stu­dio Ghi­b­li Col­lec­tion Playlist

00:03 Spir­it­ed Away — Inochi no Namae

04:01 Spir­it­ed Away — Waltz of Chi­hi­ro

06:43 Howls Mov­ing Cas­tle — Mer­ry Go Round of Life

09:45 Howl’s Mov­ing Cas­tle — The Promise of the World

13:15 Lapu­ta Cas­tle In The Sky — Main Theme

16:55 Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea — Main Theme

20:15 Tonari no Totoro — Kaze no Toori Michi

 

Cafe Music BGM’s Relax­ing Jazz & Bossa Nova Stu­dio Ghi­b­li Cov­er Playlist (song titles in Japan­ese)

0:00 海の見える街  〜魔女の宅急便/Kiki’s Deliv­ery Ser­vice

4:10 もののけ姫  〜もののけ姫/Princess Mononoke

7:28 君をのせて 〜天空の城ラピュタ/Laputa, the Cas­tle of the Sky

11:09 風の通り道 〜となりのトトロ/My Nei­bour Totoro

16:26 ひこうき雲 〜風立ちぬ/THE WIND RISES〜

19:48 空とぶ宅急便 〜魔女の宅急便/Kiki’s Deliv­ery Ser­vice

25:05 人生のメリーゴーランド

〜ハウルの動く城/Howl’s Mov­ing Cas­tle

28:07 いつも何度でも 〜千と千尋の神隠し/Spirited Away

32:08 となりのトトロ 〜となりのトトロ/My Nei­bour Totoro

36:40 さんぽ 〜となりのトトロ/My Nei­bour Totoro

38:40 崖の上のポニョ 〜崖の上のポニョ/Ponyo

42:08 ねこバス 〜となりのトトロ/My Nei­bour Totoro

46:06 旅路 〜風立ちぬ/THE WIND RISES

49:16 アシタカとサン 〜もののけ姫/Princess Mononoke

53:38 おかあさん 〜となりのトトロ/My Nei­bour Totoro

58:19 旅立ち 〜魔女の宅急便/Kiki’s Deliv­ery Ser­vice

1:02:25 風の谷のナウシカ 〜風の谷のナウシカ/Nausicaa of the Val­ley of the Wind

1:06:59 やさしさに包まれたなら 〜魔女の宅急便/Kiki’s Deliv­ery Ser­vice

 

Tune in to Cat Trumpet’s Spo­ti­fy chan­nel for his relax­ing takes on Dis­ney and ani­me, as well as Stu­dio Ghi­b­li. They are avail­able for pur­chase on iTunes and Google Play, or enjoy some free down­loads by patron­iz­ing his Patre­on. He takes requests, too.

Tune in to Cafe Music’s BGM Spo­ti­fy chan­nel for Stu­dio Ghi­b­li jazz, in addi­tion to some relax­ing Hawai­ian gui­tar jazz and a selec­tion of nature-based mel­low tunes. They are avail­able for pur­chase on iTunes.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Insane­ly Cute Cat Com­mer­cials from Stu­dio Ghi­b­li, Hayao Miyazaki’s Leg­endary Ani­ma­tion Shop

Hayao Miyaza­ki Picks His 50 Favorite Children’s Books

How the Films of Hayao Miyaza­ki Work Their Ani­mat­ed Mag­ic, Explained in 4 Video Essays

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Bob Dylan Plays Tom Petty’s “Learning to Fly” Live in Concert (and How Petty Witnessed Dylan’s Musical Epiphany in 1987)

While per­form­ing in Den­ver this past week­end, Bob Dylan paid trib­ute to Tom Pet­ty, play­ing a cov­er of his 1991 track, “Learn­ing to Fly.” Most will remem­ber their time togeth­er in the Trav­el­ing Wilburys. But real­ly their rela­tion­ship was cement­ed before that, when the musi­cians embarked on the long True Con­fes­sions Tour in 1986. That’s when Dylan lost his mojo and near­ly end­ed his career, then sud­den­ly found new inspi­ra­tion again, all while Tom Pet­ty and the Heart­break­ers shared the same stage.

In his 2004 mem­oir, Chron­i­cles: Vol­ume 1, Dylan laid out the sce­nario:

I’d been on an eigh­teen month tour with Tom Pet­ty and The Heart­break­ers. It would be my last. I had no con­nec­tion to any kind of inspi­ra­tion. What­ev­er had been there to begin with had all van­ished and shrunk. Tom was at the top of his game and I was at the bot­tom of mine. I could­n’t over­come the odds. Every­thing was smashed. My own songs had become strangers to me. It was­n’t my moment of his­to­ry any­more. There was a hol­low­ing singing in my heart and I could­n’t wait to retire and fold the tent. One more big pay­day with Pet­ty and that would be it for me. I was what they called over the hill.… The mir­ror had swung around and I could see the future — an old actor fum­bling in garbage cans out­side the the­atre of past tri­umphs.

Every­thing final­ly came to a head one night when Dylan per­formed with Pet­ty and the Heart­break­ers in Locarno, Switzer­land. He writes again in Chron­i­cles, “For an instant, I fell into a black hole… I opened my mouth to sing and the air tight­ened up–vocal pres­ence was extin­guished and noth­ing came out.” Pan­icked, Dylan used every trick to get start­ed. Noth­ing worked, until, he then cast his own “spell to dri­ve out the dev­il.” That’s when “Every­thing came back, and it came back in mul­ti­di­men­sion.” A com­plete “meta­mor­pho­sis had tak­en place.” He adds: “The shows with Pet­ty fin­ished up in Decem­ber, and I saw that instead of being strand­ed some­where at the end of the sto­ry, I was actu­al­ly in the pre­lude to the begin­ning of anoth­er one.” With­out out it, we would­n’t have Oh Mer­cyTime Out of Mind, Love and Theft, or Mod­ern Times.

You can watch footage of the epiphany con­cert on Youtube. It took place on Octo­ber 2, 1987–thirty years and three days before Pet­ty’s death on Octo­ber 5, 2017.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, 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. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A 17-Hour, Chrono­log­i­cal Jour­ney Through Tom Petty’s Music: Stream the Songs That Became the Sound­tracks of Our Lives

Watch Tom Pet­ty (RIP) and the Heart­break­ers Per­form Their Last Song Togeth­er, “Amer­i­can Girl”: Record­ed on 9/25/17

Bob Dylan & The Grate­ful Dead Rehearse Togeth­er in Sum­mer 1987: Hear 74 Tracks

How Saxophones Are Made: Two Short Films (Including One by Sesame Street) Take You Inside Saxophone Factories

Many of us, hand­ed a sax­o­phone, would­n’t have the first clue about how to play it prop­er­ly, and almost none of us would have any idea at all about how to make one. Then again, those of us of a cer­tain gen­er­a­tion might feel an old mem­o­ry com­ing back to the sur­face: had­n’t we once wit­nessed the inner work­ings of a sax­o­phone fac­to­ry? We did if we ever hap­pened to catch the clas­sic 1980 Sesame Street short above which shows the sax­o­phone-mak­ing process in its entire­ty, begin­ning with flat sheets of met­al and end­ing up, two min­utes lat­er, with jazz­i­ly playable instru­ments — just like the one we’ve heard impro­vis­ing to the action onscreen the whole time.

Gold­en-age Sesame Street always did well with reveal­ing how things were made in a char­ac­ter­is­ti­cal­ly mes­mer­iz­ing way, as also seen around the same time in an even more wide­ly remem­bered two min­utes in a cray­on fac­to­ry. Both it and the sax­o­phone work­shop, though they use plen­ty of tech­nol­o­gy, look like quaint­ly, even charm­ing­ly labor-inten­sive oper­a­tions today: in almost every step shown, we see not just a machine or tool but the human (or at least a part of the human) oper­at­ing it.

And it turns out, on the evi­dence of the 2012 video from the Musi­cal Instru­ment Muse­um just below, that the art of sax­o­phone-mak­ing has­n’t changed as much in the sub­se­quent decades as we might imag­ine.

With its more than ten min­utes of run­time, the MIM’s video shows in a bit more detail what actu­al­ly hap­pens inside a mod­ern sax­o­phone fac­to­ry, name­ly that of wood­wind and brass instru­ment mak­er Hen­ri Selmer Paris, whose sax­o­phones have been played by Char­lie Park­er, John Coltrane, Paul Desmond, Son­ny Rollins and Cole­man HawkinsAnd while some of the equip­ment clear­ly grew more advanced in the 32 years since the Sesame Street short, the over­all process remains clear­ly rec­og­niz­able, as does the con­cen­tra­tion evi­dent in the actions and on the faces of all the skilled work­ers involved, albeit on a much larg­er scale. The day when we can 3D-print our own sax­o­phones at home — the cul­mi­na­tion of the indus­tri­al evo­lu­tion­ary process glimpsed in two dif­fer­ent stages in these videos — will come, but it cer­tain­ly has­n’t come yet.

via Laugh­ingsquid

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch Nina Simone Sing the Black Pride Anthem, “To Be Young, Gift­ed and Black,” on Sesame Street (1972)

Watch Her­bie Han­cock Rock Out on an Ear­ly Syn­the­siz­er on Sesame Street (1983)

Watch Jazzy Spies: 1969 Psy­che­del­ic Sesame Street Ani­ma­tion, Fea­tur­ing Grace Slick, Teach­es Kids to Count

Learn How Crayons Are Made, Cour­tesy of 1980s Videos by Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers

Glass: The Oscar-Win­ning “Per­fect Short Doc­u­men­tary” on Dutch Glass­mak­ing (1958)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities 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.

New Digital Archive Puts Online 4,000 Historic Images of Rome: The Eternal City from the 16th to 20th Centuries

The poet Tibul­lus first described Rome as “The Eter­nal City” in the first cen­tu­ry BC, and that evoca­tive nick­name has stuck over the thou­sands of years since. Or rather, he would have called it “Urbs Aeter­na,” which for Ital­ian-speak­ers would have been “La Cit­tà Eter­na,” but regard­less of which lan­guage you pre­fer it in, it throws down a daunt­ing chal­lenge before any his­to­ri­an of Rome. Each schol­ar has had to find their own way of approach­ing such a his­tor­i­cal­ly for­mi­da­ble place, and few have built up such a robust visu­al record as Rodol­fo Lan­ciani, 4000 items from whose col­lec­tion became avail­able to view online this year, thanks to Stan­ford Libraries.

As an “archae­ol­o­gist, pro­fes­sor of topog­ra­phy, and sec­re­tary of the Archae­o­log­i­cal Com­mis­sion,” says the col­lec­tion’s about page, Lan­ciani, “was a pio­neer in the sys­tem­at­ic, mod­ern study of the city of Rome.”

Hav­ing lived from 1845 to 1929 with a long and fruit­ful career to match, he “col­lect­ed a vast archive of his own notes and man­u­scripts, as well as works by oth­ers includ­ing rare prints and orig­i­nal draw­ings by artists and archi­tects stretch­ing back to the six­teenth cen­tu­ry.” After he died, his whole library found a buy­er in the Isti­tu­to Nazionale di Arche­olo­gia e Sto­ria dell’Arte (INASA), which made it avail­able to researchers at the 15th-cen­tu­ry Palaz­zo Venezia in Rome.

Enter a team of pro­fes­sors, archae­ol­o­gists, and tech­nol­o­gists from Stan­ford and else­where, who with a grant from the Samuel H. Kress Foun­da­tion, and in part­ner­ship with Italy’s Min­istry of Cul­tur­al Her­itage and Activ­i­ties and Tourism and the Nation­al Insti­tute, began dig­i­tiz­ing it all. Their efforts have so far yield­ed an exhi­bi­tion of about 4,000 of Lan­cian­i’s draw­ings, prints, pho­tographs and sketch­es of Rome from the 16th cen­tu­ry to the 20th. Not only can you exam­ine them in high-res­o­lu­tion in your brows­er as well as down­load them, you can also see the loca­tions of what they depict pin­point­ed on the map of Rome. That fea­ture might come in espe­cial­ly handy when next you pay a vis­it to The Eter­nal City, though for many of the fea­tures depict­ed in Lan­cian­i’s col­lec­tion, you hard­ly need direc­tions. Enter the dig­i­tal col­lec­tion here.

via Stan­ford News

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The His­to­ry of Rome in 179 Pod­casts

Ancient Rome’s Sys­tem of Roads Visu­al­ized in the Style of Mod­ern Sub­way Maps

How Did the Romans Make Con­crete That Lasts Longer Than Mod­ern Con­crete? The Mys­tery Final­ly Solved

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities 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.

An Online Trove of Historic Sewing Patterns & Costumes

As Hal­loween draws nigh, our thoughts turn to cos­tumes.

Not those rub­bery, poor­ly con­struct­ed, sexy and/or gory off-the-rack ready­mades, but the sort of lav­ish, his­tor­i­cal­ly accu­rate, home-sewn affairs that would have earned praise and extra can­dy, if only our moth­er had been inclined to spend the bulk of Octo­ber chained to a sewing machine.

Not that one needs the excuse of a hol­i­day to suit up in a fluffy 50’s crino­line, a Tudor-style kir­tle gown, or a 16th-cen­tu­ry Flem­ish out­fit with all the trim­mings.…

Accoun­tant Artemisia Moltaboc­ca, cre­ator of the his­tor­i­cal and cos­play cos­tum­ing blog Cos­tum­ing Diary, has primed our pump with a list of free his­tor­i­cal medieval, Eliz­a­bethan and Vic­to­ri­an pat­terns, includ­ing ones for the gar­ments men­tioned above.

Click through the many links on her site and you may find your­self tum­bling down a rab­bit hole of some oth­er cos-play­er’s gen­eros­i­ty.

That link to the cus­tom corset pat­tern gen­er­a­tor may set you on the road to cre­at­ing a per­fect­ly fit­ted Viking apron or a good-for-begin­ners tunic. (Bring out yer dead!)

Fan­cy even more choic­es? Moltabocca’s Free His­tor­i­cal Cos­tume Pat­terns Pin­ter­est board is a ver­i­ta­ble trove of dress-up fun.

The Los Ange­les Coun­ty Muse­um of Art’s Cos­tume and Tex­tiles Project has detailed down­load­able PDFs to walk you through con­struc­tion of such anachro­nis­tic fin­ery as a 1940’s Zoot Suit, a 19th-cen­tu­ry boy’s frock (above), and a man’s vest with remov­able chest pads (hub­ba hub­ba).

An 1812 Ohio Mili­tia Officer’s Coat from the Ohio His­tor­i­cal Soci­ety.

A pair of Nan­keen Trousers cour­tesy of the Roy­al Ontario Muse­um.

A bul­let bra (hub­ba bub­ba redux!)—pair it with a 1940s Vogue hat and hand­bag and you’re ready to go!

A Regency Drawn Bon­net and an Improved Seam­less Whale­bone Under­skirt from E. & J. Holmes & Co, Boston, 1857.

If you’re feel­ing less than con­fi­dent about your sewing abil­i­ties, you might make like an upper-class Roman in an Ion­ian chi­ton.

Or just curl a syn­thet­ic wig!

Press some­one else’s seams with a straight­en­ing iron, then kick back and enjoy the vin­tage ads, pho­tos of antique gar­ments, and the peri­od infor­ma­tion that often accom­pa­nies these how-tos. And check out the 1913 patent appli­ca­tion for Marie Perillat’s Bust Reduc­er, a mir­a­cle inven­tion designed to “pre­vent flesh bulging while pro­vid­ing self adjustable, com­fort­able, hygien­ic sup­port.”

Begin with some of Cos­tum­ing Diary’s his­tor­i­cal sewing pat­terns before delv­ing into its mas­sive pat­tern col­lec­tion board on Pin­ter­est.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Browse a Col­lec­tion of Over 83,500 Vin­tage Sewing Pat­terns

Kandin­sky, Klee & Oth­er Bauhaus Artists Designed Inge­nious Cos­tumes Like You’ve Nev­er Seen Before

1930s Fash­ion Design­ers Pre­dict How Peo­ple Would Dress in the Year 2000

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Her cur­rent sewing project is 19 head­pieces for Theater of the Apes Sub-Adult Division’s upcom­ing pro­duc­tion of Ani­mal Farm at the Tank in New York City. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

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Open Culture was founded by Dan Colman.