Customer Reviews

Moondog, The Viking of 6th Avenue: The Authorized Biography

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What makes a musical genius? Is it the quality of their music, or their role in history, or the hindsight of critical analysis? To some composers, it is the combination of a unique story, a unique mode of composing or a unique way of looking at the world. This was the case with Louis Hardin aka Moondog who has, at last, had a gentle and rewarding biography written by Robert Scotto. It is a remarkable story in the American mythology that began in Wisconsin and a childhood growing up in Wyoming with his preacher father. Louis' early musical education was with the music teachers of the state but he hardly got a pass grade school in his education. As the years went by he drifted to New York where he spent 25 years begging on street corners. During this time he composed several major works and many many epigraphs - short songs that captured the passer by with their imaginative nature. As time went on he almost inadvertently became the darling of the avant garde and was renowned for his songs and drumming. He was befriended by Philip Glass and Steve Reich (some of their collaborations are heard on the extra CD) but after a failed marriage he remained a shadowy figure in the American Classical music world. By luck he managed to move to Germany in 1974 where he achieved a cult status among musicians. It seems so sad that it has taken such a long time to recognise this sensitive musician who, at his death had composed hundreds of songs, invented (a la Harry Partch) new instruments and had almost completed some 200 Symphonies.. Scotto is to be praised for trying to give the 21st century the dream of an almost forgotten genius of the 20th

Moondog (aka Louis Hardin, 1916-1999), the great American original, blind street musician, brilliant composer, gentle conversationalist, writer of wise/witty aphorisms, friend of the great and near-great -- not to mention of the "common man" -- who spent the latter part of his life in Europe (where recognition was faster in coming), at long last has his life story in print. Robert Scotto, a professor at Baruch College of C.U.N.Y., spent many years researching, interviewing his subject, as well as many of his colleagues and friends, and produced this well-written, entertaining and wise story of the life of the eccentric artist who was both personally and musically one of a kind! Scotto balances the most unusual story with perceptive yet readily accessible discussion of the wide span of Moondog's music, ranging from drum solos, through madrigals, keyboard and chamber music, to symphonic essays for large orchestra, and enhances it with a selection of intriguing photographs, an excellent
"sampler" CD of compositions spanning a half century of creativity from shortly after Moondog's arrival in New York in the 1940s to his last years in the 1990s in Germany, and a foreword by Phillip Glass (a master of contemporary musical "minimalism"). Full disclosure: as a friend of Moondog's and a contributor to the CD, this reviewer's name appears in the book. Based on its merits, however -- and those of its unique and lovable subject -- I'm confident that there will be other reviewers, with no axe at all to grind, whose comments will affirm my positive view and appreciation of this long-awaited, substantial and revealing biography.
Paul Jordan

I had to learn more about Moondog. I enjoy Moondog's music: he reminds me of Philip Glass and those who tend to the fringes of American society. When I found out that the man lived on the streets for years, I was compelled to look into this man's life. Scotto, a professor in upstate New York, has delivered a meticulously researched biography.

Moondog's life is documented in great detail, from start to finish. Indeed, I was often a bit bogged down by the details of his boyhood days in Wyoming, or the myriad details of Moondog's poems (madrigals). I began to pick up the book with less enthusiasm, as I tired of minutia, and longed for more of Scotto's insights into the character, social context, and direction of Moondog. Still, I leave the book with an excellent cd in my collection and a sense of Moondog: a difficult, sometimes brilliant, sometimes hare-brained, musician. I had my issues with the length and style of the biography, but I wholeheartedly commend Scotto for leaving an impressive record of a significant figure in American music.

... or he should be. Composer, musician and visionary Louis Thomas Hardin was blinded by a blasting cap at age 16, an event which dramatically changed the course of his life. While studying at the Iowa School of the Blind he became interested in music and eventually decided to devote his life to it. He traveled for some years, hitch-hiking (!) across the country several times, before settling in New York City in 1943. For the next 30 years he lived there as a street musician/poet, dressed in homemade viking garb, and became known as "the Viking of 6th Avenue". (He actually never lived exclusively on the street, renting apartments in Manhattan and staying with friends from time to time.) Legally changing his name to "Moondog" in 1947, he used that name exclusively for the rest of his life.

Moondog's music is both quirky and accessible. He has been described as an "avant garde" composer, yet was totally committed to strict principles of European classicism and tonality, and felt himself to be humbly carrying on in the tradition of Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven. As he once put it, "I am a tonalist at odds with all atonalists, polytonalists, quartertonalists, computerisers etc." Yet for all that, he was an American original, a fiercely independent, rugged individualist in the mold of Ruggles and Ives. Combining the rigid forms of madrigals and rounds with odd meters and his own unique theories concerning "overtones" he managed to produce music -- a great deal of it -- which was both unique and at the same time true to his classical ideals.

And as with many American originals (like Ives, Ruggles, Cage, and Partch), Moondog has been pretty much relegated to the back-burner of American music, with the other "eccentrics".

And yet... Moondog hob-nobed with, and was respected by many of the acknowledged great musicians of the day: Artur Rodinski, Arturo Toscanini, Leonard Bernstein, Benny Goodman, Charlie Parker. He recorded with Julie Andrews, Bob Dylan, and Frank Zappa. He recorded solo and chamber music albums for Columbia. He appeared on stage with the likes of Marlon Brando, Alan Ginsberg, Lenny Bruce, and Tiny Tim. And scores of musicians from Janis Joplin to Philip Glass acknowledged his influence.

At last we have a biography of this remarkable musician, heretofore known to the general public only through the liner notes of a few obscure and under-marketed albums. Robert Scotto has assembled a thorough, convincing, and sensitive portrait, greatly enhanced by interviews with Moondog himself, and those who associated closely with him. This is the story of a man who refused to be hampered by a disability that would have stopped many of us in our tracks, and who moreover constructed a career from deliberately chosen adversity.
This book is inspiring, funny, interesting, and ironic: despite his exposure and illustrious acquaintances, Moondog, as many American musicians, didn't reach the point of self-supporting musical success until he moved Europe. Settling in Germany in 1974, he wrote a tremendous volume of music and made numerous recordings (a great deal of his music still needs to be transcribed from the Braille). His career was thriving in 1999, when he died of complications from diabetes.

There are some issues with the book: a few inaccuracies, a tinge of hero-worship here and there, the occasional awkwardly worded phrase -- but this is to be expected in the first complete biography of an eccentric personality. None of these minor defects detracted significantly from my enjoyment of the book, and as icing on the cake, the book comes with a CD containing representative samples of Moondog's work.

All in all, if you're a student or fan of unique music, or just looking for an interesting biography that's a little off the beaten trail, I highly recommend this book.

And if you're already a Moondog fan this book is, of course, essential.

Louis Thomas 'Moondog' Hardin (1916-1999) was the classic iconoclast, performing at the corner of West 54th Street and Sixth Avenue in Manhattan for over 30 years (1943-1974) wearing a self-made Viking costume, a horned helmet and a 7 foot spear. He was tall, blind, and sported a mid-chest white beard. He was not, as popularly described however, homeless or destitute.

We learn, from Robert Scotto's 2007 authorized biography of Moondog, that Louis in fact owned property in upstate New York, to which he retreated when time & money allowed. He was married once, had two daughters by different women, and a string of girlfriends. He took the bus everywhere he went (hitchhiking being too dangerous), and rented apartments in New York throughout most of his life. Though famously 'difficult' (he was anti-Semite, antimiscegenation, anti-Federal Reserve and fiercely independent), he befriended literati and plebs alike, rich and poor, famous and anonymous. He counted among his friends Philip Glass, Steve Reich, Leonard Bernstein, Arturo Toscanini, Charlie Parker, Andy Warhol, Pete Seeger, Marlon Brando, Muhammad Ali and many others. He even sued disk jockey Alan Freed over his use of the Moondog name, and won.

Scotto reports on Hardin's upbringing as the neglected child of an itinerant preacher, his many moves and liaisons, and his iconclastic musical and extra-musical ideas. This reporting must not have come easy, since the "Viking of 6th Avenue" rarely documented anything and was by nature secretive and distrustful. Many gaps are delineated but left unexplained, and certain aspects of his life are clearly downplayed or whitewashed ("authorized" by whom one wonders...) but in general this first biography of Hardin must stand as a valiant effort. Scotto alas is not the most accomplished of writers: he frequently constructs long sentences with unclear meanings, and is often hampered by poor word choices. Consider this description of the obituaries following the musician's death: "These are but a handful of the scores that flooded the presses and the Internet."

The book comes with a 28-track CD of Moondog's music (sold separately under the same name) for the uninitiated.

Whether Moondog will be remembered as a street-performing novelty act or as a serious (under-recognized) composer alongside Ives, Ruggles, Cage, Partch and Nancarrow will probably depend on what happens to the hundreds of so-far unperformed Moondog manuscripts left behind -- many dauntingly large in scale and documented only in Louis's idiosyncratic Braille scores.

If you want to know about Moondog's life, this is what you'll have to buy, so there's no use nitpicking: isn't it nice to learn that when Moondog sued Alan Freed, he called Arturo Toscanini as a character witness? This isn't an especially well-written book; it's stilted and repetitive, but the author is a dogged researcher. By necessity, he has to rely on Moondog's own memoir (in verse) for details of his early life. Because it's an authorized biography, it doesn't ask any hard questions about the quality of Moondog's music or of his mental health. However, it comes with a CD of rare recordings, including madrigals sung by Moondog, Philip Glass and Stephen Reich. The CD alone is worth the price of the book.