THE TRUMP MIX-TAPE
The Use of Classical Music At Trump's Impromptu Dance Party
THE ALMOST DECADE LONG SAGA OF DONALD TRUMP dominating American political life has been one of nearly equal parts fascistic horror and farcical strangeness. To our collective dismay, and possible doom, his objectively terrifying Nuremberg-esque speeches are consistently softened and rounded off at the edges by his endless absurd rants. His speeches are oftentimes seen even by his devoted followers as funny. Yes, they too are in on the joke and are having a good time! Trump has used this to dodge the harshest of authoritarian accusations by simply claiming that what he said on the stump was a joke.
It is difficult to decipher whether Trump was fully in on the bizarre thirty-nine minute self-described “music fest” that ensued earlier this week. Instead of fielding questions in a town hall format, moderated by that dogged reporter Governor Kristi Noem of South Dakota, Trump decided, seemingly spur of the moment, to end the questions and instead initiate a listening party. “Let’s not do any more questions. Let’s just listen to music,” he said. “Who the hell wants to hear questions, right?” Music soothes and de-stresses us all, and now that we have access to nearly everything ever recorded at the click of a button, we can escape even uncomfortable softball questions and bathe in the comfortable and familiar.
The music Trump played, both at this pop-up music festival and regularly at his rallies, is telling about both Trump’s view of himself and of his movement. Yes, the Trump sound team has played “Y.M.C.A.” more than any D.J. on Fire Island. But Trump plays, shockingly, more classical music than any other presidential candidate I can think of at his rallies. Why this music? The music so culturally tied to elites is now the soundtrack of a nationalist and populist wave?
The darker path one could go down in examining this would be to trace the use of classical music in political movements as being analogous to ethno-nationalism; Hitler famously broadcasting almost exclusively Beethoven and Wagner over German radios to signify a golden age of German superiority in the arts. Of course, classical music has more than enough examples of demagogic leaders using its supposed perfection and aesthetic beauty to prove some type of racial superiority.
But in the case of Trump, as is so often the case in his dueling personas as both a wanna-be-dictator and Borscht Belt comedian, it is tackier. Because the classical music he is blasting is not necessarily classical music at all. It belongs more to the genre of classical crossover, a hybrid of classical aesthetics with pop accessiblity. It is a type of music not tied to the concert hall as much as to the sports arena. The market for classical crossover almost purposely exploits all the stereotypes of classical music—stereotypes most classical institutions try to run away from—and brings them to the fore. If orchestras are trying to distance themselves from the loaded term of “classical music,” classical crossover warmly embraces it with open arms. The male performers are often in tight tuxedos, at once both sexy and old fashioned, the women in 19th century costume. The music is dramatic and over the top with direct emotional appeal. The experience is meant to feel fancy and grandiose.
The classical crossover genre is a gilded music. It has all the elements of a successful 90s pop ballad but with singers that sound operatic and with full orchestral forces accompanying them. The music rarely presents nuance or subtlety, and when it does present subtlety, it is purely in the interest of letting all orchestral hell break lose halfway through. Though there are sometimes “classical” works presented at these concerts—truncated versions of Ravel’s Bolero or Strauss’s Blue Danube Waltz, the bulk of the repertoire is made up of pop songs (‘Crazy’ by Gnarls Barkley, ‘Unchained Melody’ by The Righteous Brother, ‘My Way (A Mi Manera)’ by Frank Sinatra sung in Italian) but performed with operatic heft and lush orchestral sweeps. If going to a classical concert feels like eating vegetables, these vegetables are dripping in chocolate fondue.
If there was an architectural twin to the classical crossover genre, it would be Mar-a-Lago. Or the penthouse suite at Trump Tower. Or for that matter the Cheesecake Factory. The gold walls, the marble floors and pillars, the faux Venetian painted ceilings, the baroque curls that adorn each chair like a throne are so extreme as to be laughably gaudy, launching it beyond the world of high glamour and into the realm of the absurd, the uncanny, and the campy. And obviously all this glitz and glamour is masking some deep insecurity about one’s elite status.
One of Trump’s ever-present tunes on the campaign trail is Andrea Bocelli’s performance of ‘Con te partirò.’ Bocelli is an Italian tenor and staple of the classical crossover genre. His long-time producer David Foster holds almost monopolistic power over the crossover genre with clients such as Charlotte Church, Josh Groban, and Jackie Evanco—Evanco notably sung at Trump’s 2016 inauguration. The song sounds operatic. There is an orchestra, a tenor, and it is even sung in Italian! When the song initially came out, it was compared to ‘Nessun Dorma,’ Puccini’s hit aria from his final opera Turandot—an aria that was performed, or screamed depending upon personal taste, after Trump accepted his party’s nomination at the RNC this year.
But the song is really nothing more than a Celine Dion power ballad (another Foster client) bronzed in classical veneer. This is not to dismiss Celine Dion power ballads, they are wonderful! The issue with classical crossover, as is the problem with Trump, is that they are both selling their audiences empty calories. They are selling a kind of promise, one of loftiness and sophistication, but with no substance whatsoever. This Italian song is surely what a benevolent billionaire would listen to in his penthouse apartment! The song became something of a pop culture hit when it was used in the 2008 comedy Step Brothers. At the climax of the film, Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly, as a way to prove their maturity, poise, and elegance at the hotsy-totsy Catalina Wine Mixer, perform Bocelli’s ballad with Ferrell on vocals and Reilly on drums. The joke, of course, is that this song is exactly what one would perform to prove their sophistication, all the while being comically déclassée. The song itself is not opulent and glamorous, as it it marketed to be, the idea of the song is opulent and glamorous.
In Trump’s constant quest to be seen as wealthy, sophisticated, smart, and strong he always comes out on the other end portraying a ridiculous caricature of such a man. If he wants to be seen as strong, he shows up to a UFC fight. If we wants to be seen as smart, he waxes poetic about his high I.Q. And when he wants to seem glamorous, he blasts classical crossover music at a rally.
However, beyond his scary and comic nostalgia for bygone days, I can’t figure out for the life of me why he plays ‘Memory’ from Cats.