The Queer Composition of America’s Sound: Gay Modernists, American Music, and National Identity. By Nadine Hubbs. (Berkeley, University of California Press, 2004. Pp ix-288, introduction, notes, works cited, index, ISBN 0520241851)

Can sexual orientation manifest itself in music? Is it possible for gay composers to create a sound that is intrinsically homosexual? Nadine Hubbs seems to think so. Her book The Queer Composition of America’s Sound attempts to explain the correlation between gay composers and the creation of the “American Sound” in the first half of the twentieth century. As I set out to review this book, I realized that scepticism can be an ugly thing: was Hubbs really going to convince me that Aaron Copland’s Grand Canyon Suite expresses his homosexuality? Or does his pastoral sound really convey a longing to be a part of the American landscape, something his gayness would never fully allow him to be? Could she really convince me that sexual orientation can inform talent? Much to her credit, after reading her book and most of the seventy pages of notes, she did. Hubbs’ main argument is that a group of gay male composers, primarily from New York City, helped form mid-century music into a distinctive “American Sound.” Hubbs calls these men, focusing primarily on Aaron Copland and Leonard Bernstein, the “architects of …national identity” since the type of music they created was so very in sync with American culture of the time. Who can really imagine the 1930s without the swank sophistication of a Cole Porter song? What epitomizes the 1950s more than the fusion of Latin rhythm with traditional Broadway showtunes in West Side Story? (In 2005, we associate these musical motifs so strongly with that time 50-60 years ago that it begs one to wonder: what will be the sound associated with the present?) Copeland’s majestic melodies evoked the sweeping western vistas, putting to music the landscape of which Americans were so proud. And with West Side Story and On the Town, Bernstein served as a counterpart for Copland in an urban milieu. Although their homosexuality has been overlooked historically, it was the gay composers of the early twentieth century who was nonetheless shaped the sound of the era. Admittedly, the music theory aspects of the book were lost on me; Hubbs’ explication of tonality or twelve-tone serialism, for instance, will not be of use to the casual reader but to someone with a greater understanding of these theories. While interesting and certainly included to prove her point, such discussion elicits an aloof response from the more non-academic reader. She fares better when dealing with the influence French music had on these men. An American movement in the 1920s and 1930s away from German culture (undoubtedly a product of WWI) included with it a resistance to the stoic, masculine music associated with Germany. The main source of inspiration for Copland and his contemporaries was French music, which was considered more feminine with its soft tones and light melodies. The melancholy French melodies coupled with rich eighteenth and nineteenth century American folk melodies created a uniquely American sound. It is this sound that Hubbs believes, defined the nation at the time. I have to question, however, Hubbs’ choice to exclude Cole Porter from her discussion. True, he was interested more in popular songs and not focused on orchestral work but his compositions speak of 1930s and 1940s much more, I believe, than any of the other composers mentioned in the book. His homosexuality is often verbally expressed in his songs. Take the witty lyrics to “It’s All Right With Me” and there is little doubt that Porter is explaining his situation of being married to a woman: “it’s the wrong game with the wrong chips/your lips are tempting but they’re the wrong …