Arranging Gershwin: Rhapsody in Blue and the Creation of an American Icon by Ryan Raul Bañagale (review)

Ryan Raul Bañagale’s Arranging Gershwin: Rhapsody in Blue and the Creation of an American Icon is one of a number of second- or third-generation works on American cultural identity that are part of a groundswell of interest in American music. Growing out of his doctoral work at Harvard, Bañagale weaves a masterful history of George Gershwin’s classic by looking at arrangements as diverse as those for harmonica to the O’Hare airport’s use of the work in its underground concourse, “Terminal of Tomorrow.” At first glance, this would seem like a scholarly effort that would produce mixed and often disjointed results, but Bañagale manages to discuss Gershwin’s work as a manifestation of an array of American experiences that seems to bring it all together to show how Gershwin, his legacy, and our own uses of American cultural artifacts play out in history. As the author writes in his opening, there are three central concerns to the book: “arrangements, mythmaking, and the recursive power of George Gershwin and Rhapsody in Blue in narratives of America and its music” (p. 1). Although the author has chosen a few signal arrangements to examine through this lens, he does make reference to many other arrangements and important touchpoints for the work throughout American history, including a seemingly over-the-top version for multiple pianists featured at the 1984 Olympic games.

The author has chosen a few important arrangements of the Rhapsody to investigate: first, the Ferde Grofé orchestration that has become famous as an early and “original” version of the work; Leonard Bernstein’s youthful arrangement for camp band as well as his famous recording from 1959; Duke Ellington’s arrangement; harmonica virtuoso Larry Adler’s version; and perhaps most intriguingly, the use of the Rhapsody in United Airlines’ advertising campaign, which has continued for decades. Along with the prose, there is a Web site, which provides helpful links to performances and clips that are referred to in the book. This makes for an interesting study—one can listen to various versions and excerpts while following the story of the Rhapsody through multiple iterations.

Certainly one of the most compelling chapters of the book, and one that will be of interest to both a more general audience and to Bernstein scholars, is the chapter investigating Bernstein’s relationship with the work. Combining careful examination of the sources in the Bernstein archive with the version that the musician eventually recorded (with particular cuts) shows the Rhapsody and Gershwin as central controlling ideas in Bernstein’s musical consciousness. From his early teenage days as a camp counselor at a summer camp (when he first learned of Gershwin’s death over the radio), to his iconic (in its own right) recording with the New York Philharmonic, Bañagale tells a very compelling narrative of Bernstein’s tortured relationship with Gershwin’s legacy. Trying to live up to the earlier composer (noting Bernstein’s “Why Don’t You Run Upstairs and Write a Nice Gershwin Tune?” in his Joy of Music as a central text), while also trying to get over his death, the author sees the Rhapsody as a continuing preoccupation in Bernstein’s musical life. This is certainly one of the strongest chapters of the book. The only weak point is the assertion that the Rhapsody and its meaning to Bernstein were wrapped up in the musician’s sexuality. Many authors have established that Bernstein’s homosexuality was a central concern in his life and career, but the argument made for the Rhapsody, in particular, as relating to this important aspect of Bernstein’s identity seems a little forced.

One of the other strengths of this book is its demystifying and demythologizing of the Gershwin classic...