The Tyranny of a Hit
In the late 1930s, Artie Shaw was one of the biggest names in American music. His 1938 recording of Cole Porter's "Begin the Beguine" was a phenomenon, making him a household name and a rival to Benny Goodman. But for Shaw, a brilliant and notoriously
intellectual musician, the hit became a creative prison. Audiences screamed for it, and his record label, RCA Victor, wanted more of the same commercially friendly fare. Shaw, however, was musically restless. He had experimented with adding string sections to his big band, a move that was innovative but often met with commercial indifference. He saw music as a high art form and bristled at the purely commercial demands of the dance-hall circuit and the music business, a conflict that would define his entire career. This tension between his artistic ambition and the expectations of his management and the public set the stage for an act of musical rebellion.
The Hollywood Gambit
The opportunity came from an unlikely place: Hollywood. In 1940, Shaw was hired to appear in the Paramount film "Second Chorus," starring Fred Astaire. Tasked with providing music for the film, Shaw saw his chance not just to fulfill a contract, but to make a statement. Instead of another three-minute dance tune, he composed an extended, ambitious piece he titled "Concerto for Clarinet." It was a bold fusion of styles, blending big band swing with classical structures, boogie-woogie blues, and virtuoso clarinet cadenzas. This wasn't an "album" in the modern sense—in the era of 78-rpm records, it was a two-part work recorded on both sides of a 12-inch disc. But in its scope and intent, it was a major artistic declaration, far beyond what a typical pop bandleader was expected to produce. Shaw himself later dismissed it as a "showboat piece" and a framework for improvisation, but its ambition was undeniable.
A Masterpiece of Defiance
The "Concerto for Clarinet" was everything a commercially minded manager or record executive would have advised against. It was long, complex, and defied easy categorization. It blurred the lines between jazz and classical music, two worlds that rarely met on the pop charts. The piece opens with a dramatic, almost orchestral flourish before launching into propulsive swing, all held together by Shaw's masterful clarinet. He weaves through the arrangement, showcasing incredible technique with glissandi, pitch bends, and a famously difficult, stratospheric high C at its climax. This was not a tune for jitterbugs; it was a composition that demanded to be listened to. By writing and recording it for the film, Shaw effectively bypassed the normal channels of A&R and presented his label with a finished product that was too good—and too public—to refuse. RCA Victor released it, and against all commercial logic, it became another success for Shaw.
The Legacy of an Iconoclast
While Shaw could be dismissive of the work after the fact, the "Concerto for Clarinet" became a cornerstone of his legacy. For the rest of his performing career, it was often the climactic finale of his live shows, a guaranteed showstopper. The piece solidified his reputation not just as a gifted musician, but as an iconoclast who consistently fought against the commercial constraints of his era. This battle was one he would fight again and again, leading him to abruptly disband popular orchestras at the height of their fame and eventually abandon music altogether in 1954 to pursue writing and other interests. He was an artist who was often far ahead of his audience, and the "Concerto" stands as the ultimate testament to his artistic integrity. It was the moment he put his foot down, defied the system, and created one of the most enduring and singular works of the Swing Era.
