Heather Cox Richardson’s rise to prominence is an “if you build it, they will come” story. The Boston College history professor (with a specialty in 19th century America) started posting informed political coverage on social media five years ago. Carefully written and loaded with relevant historical context, these dispatches were so well received that she started a newsletter. HCR now has over a million subscribers and is regularly referenced by major publications and thought leaders like The Guardian, The Washington Post, Rachel Maddow and Ezra Klein.
Without the usual team of image experts and social media promoters, HCR just does what she does best. America has a long and complicated history, and the pivotal moments—like this one we appear to be in now—are important to know. HCR’s posts bring together careful analysis (she still includes her sources in footnotes) and thoughtful insight, qualities that seem to have been leached out of the mainstream press as the political arena has become riddled with disinformation and unexamined lies. (The steady demise of political coverage at the previously venerable New York Times has been deeply troubling to watch, but that’s a topic for another time.)
HCR is a counterpoint to this parched state of affairs. She is down to earth, accessible, and refreshingly one of us. She lives in Maine. She does podcasts in baseball caps with no makeup. She readily answers questions posed by her listeners and readers. She is neither pretentious nor arrogant, even though it is clear she is brilliant, exceptional and blindingly prolific.
During this very contentious political season when fundamental notions of democracy are at stake, someone asked HCR what those of us who have neither power nor money can do to make a difference. Her answer was simple and straightforward: Do what you do, and do it well. And live your life with joy. Fascism can’t take hold when people are happy and productive.
Do what you do. Do it well. And do it with joy.
Those words from HRC were the inspiration that encouraged us (my “get it done” trail buddy Karen Fitzgerald and me) to mount an Instagram-based Harris Walz Art Auction on Fair Share Art Auctions @fairshareartauctions. With almost 100 artists participating, this is the largest auction we have ever done. Bidding ends on October 2, and anyone with an Instagram account can participate
This fundraising effort is artists doing what they do, and doing it with joy. The truth is that there are so many ways of doing and sharing. So it seems fitting for me to call out some of the artists, writers, musicians and performers whose “doing, and doing it well” has made this difficult season significantly better for me and many others.
WRITING
Some terrific new books have been published recently. Here are a few of my favorites.
Fiction:
Rachel Cusk, Parade
Rachel Kushner, Creation Lake
Sally Rooney, Intermezzo
Jonathan Strong, Endpapers
Elizabeth Strout, Tell Me Everything
Olga Tokarczuk, The Empusium
Non fiction:
Anne Applebaum, Autocracy, Inc.
Judith Butler, Who’s Afraid of Gender?
Kevin Fedarko, A Walk in the Park
Ayana Elizabeth Johnson, What if We Get it Right?
MUSIC
My favorite troubadour Todd Hearon (more about him here) released a new album, Impossible Man, late last summer. This album was produced by the legendary Don Dixon (REM, the Smithereens, inter alia) and recorded at Mitch Easter’s Fidelitorium Studio in North Carolina.
Todd’s music is its own blend of indie, folk, rock, Americana. This album has a distinct flavor—he recorded it with a new crew of musicians—but the songwriting just keeps getting better and better. Todd is a musician but he is also a poet, and his lyrics are in a category all their own. And experiencing his music live—most of the performances coming up are in New England for now–is a love fest.
Here’s one sampling of lyrics from Todd’s new album:
Love Song #551 (The One and Oddly You)
I ended up at the house of your art
And I’m still knocking, I’m still knocking
Doled out the sweet silver song of my heart
And your bird’s still mocking, bird’s still mocking
I can’t be all that you want me to be and be me
You can’t be nobody too—the one and oddly you
Served up the mess of myself in a sonnet
And put your name on it so you can’t pawn it
The rhymes were so rancid you wanted to vomit
But everything’s better with Grey Poupon it
I can’t be all that you want me to be and be me
You can’t be nobody too—the one and oddly you
I can’t uncraze your inscrutable ways in a song
You seem amazed at the million ways I get em wrong
Saying, I can’t be all that you make me to be and be me
You can’t be nobody too—the one and oddly you
My brightest decisions were made on bad dope
And I’m still paying, I’m still paying
I thought I’d find rest at the end of my rope
But it’s still fraying, I’m just saying
I can’t be all that I wanted to be and be me
You can’t be no one but you—the one and oddly you
Since there’s no help let’s hold true to the hopeless we are
I’ll be the black empty aching embracing your star, where you are
Never the light that you hoped you would see and be me
You ain’t my kind of dark but you’ll do—the one and oddly you
Twinkling there out of the blue
Even when everything’s through
Hard to believe that you’re truly the one and oddly you
.
For more information: Todd Hearon
THEATER
The new theater season in Boston is off to a terrific start. Two very ambitious, excellent productions on view now:
American Repertory Theater: Romeo and Juliet (read more here)
Huntington: Leopoldstadt (read more here.)
And for sheer enjoyment, Lyric Stage has a winner: a new production of Urinetown. This satirical comedy musical was written 20 years ago (garnering 10 Tony nominations and winning 3) but it feels uncannily timeless and apropos for this 2024 moment. Greg Kotis’s writing is chock full of chicanery and tomfoolery, Bertolt Brechtian provocation and absurdist burlesque, fourth wall breaches and slapstick silliness.
But what fun this cast is having on stage! High fives to director Courtney O’Connor for cracking the code in unleashing this high energy blast that explodes throughout the house. The cast is refreshingly diverse and includes some memorable performances by Anthony Pires, Jr, Kenny Lee, Elliana Karris, Christopher Chew, and the night I went, Maryann Zschau, a last minute fill in understudy as Penelope Pennywise. Even with a script in her hand for occasional prompts–which given the over the top nature of this show wasn’t even a distraction–she pulled it off with panache.
My brainy companion said afterwards, “How good it is to laugh and suspend all judgment!” It was that kind of night. Steady doses of humor are so needed from now til November. And then beyond!
