CAROUSEL, 1956

Carousel was produced in 1956, the year I first came to the United States. The wonderful music from the movie is deeply engrained among my early musical memories. It stars Gordon McRae as Billy, a carousel barker around the turn of the 20th century.

When I took voice lessons in high school, McRae was a model for light-classical singing. His voice ranges from smooth, mellow high notes that quiver to meaty, chesty lower ones. I was struck by the female actors, Shirley Jones (as the main lead, Julie) and Barbara Ruick, her good friend. I confess to liking the stereotypic femininity of their roles despite my consistent advocacy that women not be limited to this.

The first song by Ruick, “When I Marry Mr. Snow,” my favorite, is like a long-forgotten love. Shortly after comes Jones’s version of “If I Loved You,” a duet with McRae. Hearing the way she holds the notes, it strikes me that often just holding a note for one bar longer can make it into sensual, black, jazz. Although inferior to McRae's, Jones's and Ruick's oh so satisfying voices do that better than McRae. Then I think of the incredible wonder of cultural “miscegenation,” how white women have imperceptibly broken down racial barriers. But it may be that I fantasize. Sex and race are my favorite themes in movies.

I love Oscar Hammerstein; let there be no mistake. But I’ve struggled to overcome my ambivalence about what I perceived as a strain of over-simplicity and heaviness when compared to the wit and sophistication of Lorenz Hart, Rodger’s former lyricist. I particularly dislike “When You Walk Though a Storm,” which not only ends the movie but is also featured before that to show staunch faith in overcoming adversity. Hammerstein’s directness has broad appeal but I prefer greater subtlety. The solution is simple. I take the musical for what it is. Carousel may be the best example of its kind. It was one of the most serious Rodgers and Hammerstein story lines.