“Maine View toward Monhegan,” by Alanna S. Graboyes (asgraboyesart.com)
I’m writing several heavy-duty pieces—on horrific medical experimentation with human beings, on the potential role of aviation in advancing the cause of rural healthcare, and on a curious mode of early 19th century financial communication. But on this quiet Sunday afternoon, I’ll offer some lighter fare—thoughts on a hackneyed song and the deeper significance of its hackneyfication.
Some months back, a friend mentioned the song, “Theme from A Summer Place,” written for A Summer Place—a teen romance, set on the coast of Maine, featuring Sandra Dee and Troy Donahue. My friend referred to the song as “one of the sillier/cheesier tunes ever recorded.” I responded that for me the song is something of a riddle and perhaps indicative of a larger phenomenon of our time.
To modern ears (mine included) “Theme from A Summer Place” is, indeed, dreadful. The song is the ultimate exemplar of “elevator music.” As such it has been used in countless films and television programs—usually to ironic effect. In Animal House (1978), it accompanies a drunken teenager fumbling with his even drunker date. In Legend (2015), it precedes a brutal murder.
The song is cheesy as can be, but I'm not sure whether it was intrinsically cheesy from the outset (like 1970s fashions), or whether is was the victim of time, overuse, and endless imitation. The most famous version—the one used in the film—was performed by the Percy Faith Orchestra. Listen to its treacly, string-heavy sound, and you wonder how the studio ever thought it was a good idea—or how Percy Faith became a name.
But for a time, Percy Faith was immensely successful. “Theme from A Summer Place” was the #1 hit single for 1959, as was his similarly styled “The Song from Moulin Rouge” (“Where Is Your Heart”) in 1953. His Wikipedia bio says:
"Faith remains the only artist to have the best selling single of the year during both the pop singer era ("The Song from Moulin Rouge") and the rock era ("Theme from A Summer Place"); and he is one of only three artists, along with Elvis Presley and The Beatles, to have the best selling single of the year twice."
Another recording of the song became a smash hit for singer Andy Williams. He, too, had an anodyne sound that fell into self-caricature after a while.
But the song’s provenance was imposing. It was composed by Max Steiner—one of the greatest film composers of all time. He didn’t have a lot of misses in his career, including his classic scores for The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, Casablanca, Arsenic and Old Lace, and Gone with the Wind. Furthermore "Theme from A Summer Place" was not some late-career failure by an over-the-hill-composer. With this composition, Steiner knocked the ball out of the park—a #1 hit that became a national obsession. I wonder whether that obsession wrecked our perception of the song and, more generally, of the Percy Faith sort of sound in general.
A Summer Place came out when I was 5 years old—the same year I began my music studies. The song blared constantly from our automobiles’ AM radios—enough so that it soon became a dreadfully annoying cliche. And it was not just that song itself, but its elements that quickly fell into overuse. The song’s slow, undulating, stringy 6/4 rhythm was endlessly copied for every second-rate romantic film’s score until the style became intolerable.
So, I don’t disagree with my friend’s contention that the song sounds silly and cheesy, I’m just not sure it was when it came out, or whether it was retrofitted with those unfortunate qualities. And therein lies a bit of deeper significance. We live an era that is quick to vilify the aesthetics of the past, be it the writings of Mark Twain or the humor of Mel Brooks or the statuary of Theodore Roosevelt. Though you won’t find me listening to “Theme from A Summer Place” (except when writing this piece), I’m willing to bear a measure of respect for something that, though alien to modern sensibilities, was clearly at home in its own time. A measure of peaceful humility comes from recognizing that our views of the past are distorted, and that in fair turnabout, future generations will look askance on the things that appeal to us today.
ADDENDUM 1 (8/28/22): Since writing this piece, two other possible reasons for the visceral irritation provoked by “Theme from A Summer Place” occurred to me. … … First, a bit of research suggests that “elevator music,” much of it produced by the Muzak Corporation, was relatively well-liked by the public until just around the time that A Summer Place hit the theaters in 1959; but by around 1960, Muzak’s omnipresence had begun to grate on the public. The 1969 film, Goodbye, Columbus (based on Philip Roth’s 1959 eponymous novella), features a running joke on elevator music; Ron Patimkin, a dull ex-college athlete, repeatedly describes the pride he holds for his collection of records by Mantovani and Kostelanetz—two famous purveyors of elevator-style music.) … … Second, it occurred to me that the opening notes of “Theme from A Summer Place” sound very much like “Chopsticks,” a piano ditty that one heard incessantly at family gatherings in the 1950s and 1960s—most often played by pre-teens and teens who had no other experience with or talent for the piano. (“Heart and Soul,” “Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater,” and “The Knuckle Song” comprised the remainder of this irritating repertoire. I have no idea whether any of these are still played.) I do wonder whether Max Steiner intended the song’s opening to subconsciously remind audiences of “Chopsticks,” since that old song was emblematic of youthful 1950s innocence, and A Summer Place was a drama on the loss of youthful innocence.
ADDENDUM 2 (8/28/22): In researching this, I discovered that “Chopsticks” was originally titled, “The Celebrated Chop Waltz,” and was written in 1877 by a 16-year-old girl whose brother was a music publisher. It was so named because one was supposed to play it with the hands configured as butcher’s knives, chopping away at the keyboard. I also discovered that “Chopsticks” (in 4/4 time) can be heard lurking beneath the opening of the theme song to 1960s television’s “My Three Sons.” While I have involuntarily hummed that song as an earworm for half a century, I had never noticed that it begins as a countermelody to “Chopsticks.”
ADDENDUM 3 (9/26/22): In the previous addenda, I speculated that, “Theme from A Summer Place” may sound hackneyed because of its resemblance to “Chopsticks,” ceaselessly banged out on the piano by teenagers in those years. I also mentioned “Heart and Soul” as part of the four-song repertoire for kids who could not otherwise play piano. This morning, it occurred to me that “Theme from A Summer Place” follows the same chord pattern as “Heart and Soul”—C, Am, Dm7 (or F), G repeated cyclically. The movie theme is essentially the melody of “Chopsticks” adapted to the chords of “Heart and Soul.” That pretty well convinces me that Max Steiner meant the theme to be a subconscious reference to the life of middle class teenagers of 1959.