Fresh Air - Miranda July Wants Women To Read Their Inner Lives In 'All Fours'

Episode Date: December 19, 2024

Filmmaker and writer Miranda July, whose novel All Fours is on many best books of the year lists, and was described in the New York Times as "the year's literary conversation piece." July spoke with Terry Gross about issues in the novel, like separating from a spouse you're growing distant from, perimenopause, and having an affair. And jazz historian Kevin Whitehead reviews a newly released recording of a concert he attended in 1978, by pianist Sun Ra and his Arkestra.Learn more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy

Hey everybody, it's time to join NPR's All Songs Considered as we celebrate a very tolerable Christmas with a mix of seasonal songs and special guests. Yeah, we're in for like the saddest Christmas ever, stuck with Robin who is basically a lump of coal in the shape of a man. Hear new episodes of All Songs Considered every Tuesday wherever you get podcasts. This is Fresh Air, I'm Terry Gross. My guest Miranda July was a bit afraid of what people would think of her after publishing her second novel, All Four. The book is partly about sexuality and has some very explicit sexual scenes,

but that's true of many books. Her larger fear was the theme of a woman reaching midlife and entering perimenopause, the time in a woman's life when she's transitioning into menopause, and is experiencing some of the many symptoms associated with that time of life. For her main character, it's the fear of losing her libido, dealing with mysterious moods and anxiety, and the thought of being seen as an old woman. But the book has gotten the opposite reaction she feared. It's on many of this

year's ten best lists, including the New York Times, in which it was described as this year's literary conversation piece, and in the New Yorker, where it was described as a study of crisis, the crisis of being how middle-age changes sex, marriage, and ambition. July's moving, very funny book is at once buoyant about the possibilities of starting over and clear-eyed about its costs. When our critic John Powers reviewed it, he said, I gasped in surprise at all fours, Miranda July's hilariously unpredictable novel. All fours is sometimes described as a book about perimenopause, the transitional stage before menopause, yet this flattens it into sociology and self-help.

July's mind is far too unruly and interesting for that. John goes on to describe the book as perverse, unrepentant, sometimes dirty, and often laugh-out-loud funny. All Forrest's story revolves around a 45 year old woman, a slightly famous artist, writer, and performer, who decides to take a break from the routines she's stuck in and drive from her home in LA to New York. Her husband thinks it's a good idea and even suggests the best route for the drive. But about 30 minutes away from home, she stops at a gas station and feels this electric connection to a young man there, and he seems to feel it too. They end up having an affair in a motel room she rents and redecorates, and she spends the entire three weeks there.

Their affair is both sexual and chaste. They're both married. He won't engage sexually, which would be disloyal to his wife, but they touch and dance and the intentional eroticism becomes all-consuming for her. But then the three weeks are up, she returns home and has enormous trouble re-entering her life as a wife and mother. Miranda July is also a filmmaker, actor, performance artist, and visual artist. Miranda Jalai, welcome to Fresh Air. It's such a good book. I really enjoyed reading it and I'm looking forward to talking with you about it. So you were afraid to write this book and what people would think of you. Elaborate on what your biggest fears were. fear in general was also why I wrote the book. Like, I, upon turning 40, which was a few years before I started writing it, it seemed like this, this grim time was suddenly approaching that was very vague, like this time of a woman who's no longer young. And I wanted to not write about that because so many women I admired, so many writers had written about more important things, right? Like, they had not focused on the people trying to shame them or the shame they felt themselves.

They focused on important subjects. But the more that I got older, and I started writing this book at 45, and the more that I talked to other women and gynecologists and naturopaths, the more I felt that this subject actually wasn't separate from those more important things. Well, one thing about getting older is I think Wikipedia has relieved the burden of that because for most people, their birth date is on the Wikipedia page. And so you can't really hide it even if you want to anymore. And I resent the fact

that women especially are supposed to hide their age. Like, why can't we own it? Why can't we proclaim it? You know, why should we have to reinforce the idea that a woman getting older is a really terrible thing? Right. I mean, we shouldn't have to reinforce it for sure. But it does. Like, I think people, I don't totally want to blame women when there's real repercussions, you know, economically, just in their sense of what's possible in the world, you know, so it's a tricky line. Like, yes, I sort of obviously am on the side of declaring it, but I am kind of often,

I'm just being honest here, because so much of the book is about like not trying to be less ashamed than I actually am. Um, not trying to seem less ashamed. Because I feel like then you can't evolve. Like if you're hiding the place where you're actually at, then it's hard to get to the next place. So when I say I'm 50, I am always a little disappointed when the person doesn't look

shocked. Oh, like, oh, but you look 35. That kind of thing? When they just sort of are like, hmm, yeah. Like, I still have that in me despite having declared all that stuff a massive construction, you know, like a best construction ever that we become less interesting, you know, so early, so young, right? 45. I mean, like, why was I thinking about this at

forty-five? But I was. There's a line in your book where you're buying something from an older woman and you think about how you sometimes really hate old women. And so it's not. Yeah, it's we're gonna have to decide, are we saying you? Oh, I'm sorry. I'm saying... The character, the character, the character. I mean, we can get into that, but, you know, the narrator's saying... So, the character, this is where the character has gone to the hotel.

She's felt this, like, erotic charge from this younger man. She's 45, he's 31, who she met at, who she looked at at a gas station, and he looked back at her, and then they met briefly in a diner. So she's unpacking her suitcase at this motel, and the reading is about what she's thinking as she's unpacking her clothes, and which one she's going to leave in the suitcase, and which one she's going to actually unpack and wear. Right, yeah, so she leaves the sort of more androgynous styles in the suitcase. I left these things in my suitcase in favor of my more overtly

feminine and form-fitting clothes. Heels and pencil skirts, cropped sweaters, shirtwaist dresses with tight belts around the smallest part of my waist. Every old thing had a modern counterbalance. Past age 40, you had to be careful with vintage. I didn't want to be mistaken for an elderly woman wearing the clothes from the 1960s of her youth. Young people especially had trouble making distinctions between ages over 40. When I got my first Patti Smith tape, Horses at 22,

Smith was only 49. But I didn't think of her as a contemporary person. I wasn't even sure she was still alive because the cover of Horses was a black and white photograph. Instead of knowing this was a stylistic choice, like vintage clothes, I unconsciously associated the record with the deep past of black and white movies. If anyone asked, I would have probably managed to assign the album to the right decade, but most of life is a vapor of unconscious associations never brought to light.

A good way to check your outfit is by running past the mirror. Or better yet, make a video of yourself running past your phone. How old was that blur of a woman? Was she from the past or was she modern? And where was she going in such a hurry? I walked around Monrovia in a red shirtwaist dress and white wedge heels. The commercial areas weren't really built for walking but there were some nice residential neighborhoods. Several times I passed teenage girls wearing backpacks, their breasts inflated by the hormones

and cow's milk and barely covered by tank tops. Whenever I saw them coming I pretended I was from another country projecting the air of someone so foreign she could not understand or be hurt by anything American. Did you share a similar, almost fear of older women or a dislike of them that your character has? I think I was catching myself around this time. I kept sort of noticing what I was thinking about older women and noticing the way that I might dismiss someone or not give them sort of the full benefit of an interior life or an erotic life or think of them as like a sad character kind of for no reason, right? Like this is just like someone I'm seeing in passing. And by the time I was

writing the book, I was aware like, oh, that fear or hatred of older women is of course self-hatred, you know, because I will become that and to some degree I already am that to people younger than me, you know. So it's like a kind of slippery zone. Your character is experiencing things and fears that relate to perimenopause, but some of the things she's experiencing, she doesn't know relate to perimenopause until she actually goes to her gynecologist. Was it that way for you that you had symptoms of perimenopause that you were attributing to other things?

Well, I had a different experience from the narrator. I actually had this amazing doctor, Dr. Maggie Ney, who started talking with me about it in my early 40s. I may have been just 40. And she's like, look, we're going to take your blood and see where your hormone levels are at. And that's just to get a baseline so that as you get older and things, your hormone level drop will kind of understand the speed at which that's happening and when you might want to do bioidentical hormones

if you want that. And I always remember at the end of describing all this, which was a longer conversation, she said, I'm so excited for you. And she didn't mean that like as a joke. And I, not knowing anything else about this, never having had a conversation about it in any other time in my life, not having had a conversation about it ever before with anyone. I just smile. I just dumbly smiled and was like, huh, yeah, you never know what's coming next, you know, like this is exciting. Go from ballet slippers to pointe shoes, you know, like it's always something new. I don't know, it didn't seem inherently bad. But then, you know, as I would talk to my friends, I was

like the only one who knew anything. So one of the things the book is about is the feeling that you need to change your life, but not knowing how to do it, and knowing that there will be consequences and rewards if you do. And part of the consequences will be for the other people in your life if you're leaving a marriage, if you're breaking up a home in a way that will affect your young child. And I know you've experienced similar things. And this might be too personal,

but was there a lot you had to weigh before changing your life, knowing that it might be the right thing for you, but there would also be consequences that everyone in your family would be facing, including you, because I'm sure there'd be a downside as well. Yeah, I mean, my changing life moment, it wasn't like I alone in my head was coming up with that I had to do this.

It was like an ongoing conversation with my husband at the time and very slow and we both, I think as much as we didn't want to traumatize our kid, we also didn't want to traumatize ourselves. And we were very attached to ourselves and the triangle of our family. So what exactly had to change and what could stay the same? I feel like it's still changing. I mean, kind of as long as we're a family, which will hopefully be forever, you know, I mean, kind of as long as we're a family, which will hopefully be forever, you know, you've got three changing people in it whose needs are changing and who are trying to be honest. And I guess that was the big shift was like, oh, we're not going to pretend we're not changing

anymore. And that a lot of those changes have nothing to do with each other, you know, or this thing that we've built. But you know, as much as you worry about the kid, my biggest worry was that they wouldn't get to see me as I really was. And I say they because they're non-binary. There's just one kid. Because I started to realize,

oh, there's a whole lot of myself that happens outside the home with my best friend or in my studio alone being creative or just me alone in the world. Like I feel like I'm starting to feel like this part that used to just be like me on a break or, you know, at work. This may be the lion's share of me. This might be kind of what I have to offer them as far as one way to live, one way to

be. one way to live, one way to be, but actually when I go home, I'm being like a smaller version and not kind of like a just less interesting to even to myself, like because I was biting my tongue a lot and no one was asking me to do this by the way, like it's very personal. I know a lot of people who the freest they feel is in their home and you know the world is terrifying. And so I began to feel like something I had to do for my child, like I need to change these circumstances so they can see who I really am. So this may be too personal, but please don't answer it if it is. You and your former husband, is that the right way to describe it? Live together for a while with your child, but more as friends than as a married couple. How did that work? I think a lot of people would be curious

about that because I think there are a lot of couples who separate, who remain friends, but they don't want to be romantically involved anymore and they want more freedom outside of the home. But I could see where there'd also be a lot of discomfort and tension and nervousness around each other. So if there's anything that you can offer about how that arrangement worked out? Yeah, I mean, it is interesting. I feel a little different since the book came out. Like, I've now read so many emails and messages

and comments on my sub stack about women at this point, or women doing things differently or trying to figure this out that I no longer, women at this point, or women doing things differently or trying to figure this out, that I no longer, I'm like, is there a way to answer this question that isn't specific to me, because I actually don't feel like, I think at the time I felt very unique

and very like no one's doing what I'm doing and both worried by that and sort of proud. And now I'm like, no, this is incredibly widespread, at least lots of thoughts about it. And then people trying to figure out how to do it. I mean, the thing of living together, it's what you're used to. Obviously that's not going to work if you're incredibly embattled, you know?

But if you're not, then it is kind of an opportunity to see who the other person is a bit more. Like, wow, this person who's like my long time pal, but I never could quite see what they were like when they're dating, you know? Not that like you're necessarily getting any details or anything, but just like their energy, you know, because you were the person they were dating, and now you're not. And like, yeah, there might be some sadness or strangeness about that, but you're also like, look at you, you're a person.

Like I never really gave you all of that. And meanwhile, you're also getting it too. Like they're seeing you as a person more completely, and nothing you do is threatening in the old way, the way every new thing and change is like sort of threatening when you're in a couple sometimes. And if you know it's going to be a lifelong relationship, partly because of the child, but also because, you

know, life isn't that long and you've already invested so much time and energy with this person. Like, maybe that's sort of interesting to get to see and be seen, you know, in this different way. My guest is Miranda July. Her novel all fours us on many best books of the year lists. We'll talk more after a break. I'm Terry Gross and this is Fresh Air. Hi, it's Tanya Mosley. Before we get back to the show, the end of year is coming up and our Fresh Air team is looking back at all the fantastic interviews and reviews we've been able to bring you in 2024 because of your support. We had so many delightful, introspective, sometimes emotional, sometimes funny,

always deeply human conversations with St. Vincent, Al Pacino, Bridget Everett, Pharrell Williams, Jeremy Strong, Ina Garten, and so many others. People you know well and hopefully knew people you learned about for the first time on our show. We're able to do this because of your support to your local station or by joining NPR+. NPR plus has grown a lot this year, and we want to say thank you, an extra special thank you, to those supporters. You know who you are, and we see you. If you don't know what we're talking about, NPR Plus is a great way to support independent public media. When you sign up for a simple reoccurring donation,

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Thanks. I'm Jesse Thorne. 2024 is almost over. But before it's gone, come laugh with us at the best standup comedy of the year on Bullseye. We'll hear from Tignitar, O'Kyle Canane, Kimberly Clark, Lori Kilmartin, and many, many more. You might even hear your next favorite standup.

That's on Bullseye for MaximumFun.org and NPR. ["The Big News"] Every weekday, NPR's best political reporters come to you on the NPR Politics Podcast to explain the big news coming out of Washington, the campaign trail, and beyond. We don't just wanna tell you what happened, we tell you why it matters. Join the MPR Politics podcast every single afternoon to understand the world through political eyes.

This is Fresh Air. I'm Terry Gross. Let's get back to my interview with writer and filmmaker Miranda July. Her films include You, Me, and Everyone We Know and Kajillionaire. Her new novel All Four's is on many 2024 best of lists. It's about a woman wanting to shake up her life. She's thinking of leaving her marriage and is having a very erotic affair. When she discovers she's entering perimenopause, she fears the best part of her life may be ending and she may lose her libido. She worries about getting older.

There are parallels to Miranda July's life. I want to ask you about being the parent of a non-binary child, which is the position more and more parents seem to be in. How old is your child now? Twelve. seem to be in, how old is your child now? 12. Yeah, so they use the pronoun, they, them. What are some of the things you have to deal with as the parent of a non-binary child?

In terms of even questions like, do you want your child to take hormones? Do you want them to have a puberty block? Or do they want to have it? Like, is your voice going to take preced? Do you want them to have a puberty block or do they wanna have it? Like, is your voice gonna take precedence over theirs or do you hope to be on the same page? Do you wanna just follow what they want knowing that they're not an adult yet

and that their mind could possibly change? There's so many questions I think that the parents of non-binary children have to deal to deal with and especially now in a world where That's being like demonized in politics Yes, I mean that's like a whole other book That I didn't write. The child in the book is non-binary, and I remember sort of wrestling with like,

should I have the child be he? And it would be he for a while, then she, none of these things are feeling right. You know, it is a fiction. I'm making up all kinds of other things. Surely I can just, the gender of this child doesn't have to map onto the gender of my child. But I went home one day and asked my child,

I just described this situation. I said, what do you think? Should I just have them be they, them? I mean, I don't want, you know, it's not you, you know, so I don't want that to feel invasive to you. And they said, I think everyone in the book should be they them. Which was such a kind of 2.0 answer, like sort like, just questioning the construction of gender in general. Like, and I said, like, okay, I'm not there yet. Point taken. And then I just went with they them and I, there's maybe one point in the book where it's kind of acknowledged

that potentially it's the same hormones that the narrator is taking estrogen, you know, that a non-binary trans feminine child would, might one day take. But beyond that, as a mother, it's not my story to tell, especially because as with any child, it's a changing story. And none of us want to put something out there that's going to haunt the child, you know, which is not to say like they're ever not going to be trans, I don't mean that, but it's like it's a private journey. My own, you know, deep inner gender and sexuality journey is a private journey. So I, it's tricky. There's so much information and conversation that is missing and that I would love to give any

parents or grandparents who are listening. But it's just, it's too public for just me as a mother, not an educator, not a writer. Yeah, I'm just too protective of the sanctity of their childhood. Of course, yeah. Have you changed a lot having more space in your life on your own? Because I would imagine you co-parent with your former husband and that you don't have your child every day to take care of. And in some ways, that's a real loss, and in other ways, it gains you some independence and personal time. And I wonder what that shift in time and that shift in the balance of independence versus having somebody dependent on you all the time has changed you, for better or worse, has changed your life.

Or for better and worse. So yeah, the four days, every other four days, I'm alone, or whoever I choose to sleep with, like in my 20s. Like it's really like you really have to stop and think when you have that time alone where you're not responsible like what actually am I doing here in this life? Like, what do I feel like? And you keep, just because you've unburdened yourself practically, you know, with from this construction or these real responsibilities doesn't mean they just automatically lift off your shoulders. Like most of my issues come from within, right? So suddenly you're like, oh, it wasn't all the construction of marriage or the patriarchy or those, it was those things, but they're

inside me. And I'm still running for dear life or replacing those constructions with new ones, you know, anything that'll fill up my time, take my time, please, you know, Instagram, whatever. And so to actually be willing to take on that freedom, it's a real practice. And I don't mean to make it sound hard or scary. It's only hard in the way that, like a new habit is hard. My guest is Miranda July. Her latest novel is called All Fours.

We'll be right back after a short break. This is Fresh Air. This is Fresh Air. Let's get back to my interview with writer and filmmaker Miranda July. Her latest novel, All Four's, is on many best of the year book lists. So I want to talk about your formative years. When you gravitated toward punk as a teenager,

and what drew you to it? And what were your first experiences listening to punk rock or, you know, going to clubs? I mean, I think I wasn't ever like, I'm not like a music head. So the thing that that drew me to punk, especially as a teenager, was first of all, it was an all-ages scene. Like the clubs, like I could go to them. They weren't, they didn't have alcohol. And not only that, but the whole premise was you don't have to be taught. Like you can figure it out yourself.

And that was great for me, who did not want to be taught by anyone anyways, and wanted access to a space, a world, a literal, I mean I put my first plays on in a punk club in 924 Gilman, a sort of seminal all ages punk club in Berkeley. And that was so great. Honestly, I would wish that on any teenager to have the freedom to do something outside of school that's, while punk seems sort of lawless, it actually was a structure. You know, it did formalize what I was doing. AMT – You actually moved to Portland to be part of the riot girl scene. KS – Well, I moved to Portland to be with my girlfriend at the time, and Riot Girl kind of had just happened. I'd say I sort of missed it slightly. But certainly the feminist underpinning was all there.

One of the jobs that you had early on while trying to support yourself, I guess while you were doing your art, was working at a peep show. How and why did you get that job? KS – Initially, let's see, my girlfriend and I broke up. She moved out. We had to cover her rent. And I remember my friend at the time, like how are we going to get this money really quickly, you know,

that we were missing? And she said, well, one of us is going to have to strip and it can't be me because I have glasses. And I was like, huh, okay. And so initially it was this club that I think is still there called Mary's in Portland. But then I've had these kind of lifelong problems with my eyes, and there was smoking in the bars back then. So I couldn't really handle the smoke. So that's why I moved to the Peep shows, which is just like a box. You're not really sharing air with anyone. And you're separated by glass, right?

Yeah. What did you learn doing that about sexuality or about men, about yourself, about what it means to get really turned on, looking at somebody who's basically on exhibit behind glass? Hmm. Yeah, I mean, my main goal was to make as, you know, much money, it still wasn't that much, but to make this amount of money in a short time so I could work on my, you know, what ended up being like my first book of short stories, my first feature film, you know, I needed the time was how I was thinking about it. Yeah, I mean, I wouldn't recommend that job to my child or anyone else's child, but on the other hand, like, most jobs at that age are not so great.

Were you able to see the Peep Show as a form of performance art? No. No. I don't think I thought of it as my job, my not great job that was, I think when I quit that job I started working unlocking car doors for a company called Papa Lock. You know when you lock your key in your car and that doesn't happen so much anymore. And that job really, I really hated because I had a beeper and like I could be beeped in the middle of the night to like have to go unlock someone's car which I was, you know, I'd been trained but I always managed to get it open but sometimes it took like a while. I have one more peep show question. So when men were staring at you and telling you their sexual fantasies, did you find it at all flattering or really creepy?

Like what was your experience of that watching them? Like they're there to watch you, but you're watching them. I mean, at the time, like for some context, like I was a lesbian. I had like very, I think, like bleached out short hair and I would wear a wig. That was like my normal pretty girl wig that was like longer brown hair. And so the whole thing was sort of like, I am so far from this. You have no idea. Like I'm, yeah, so it just kind of felt like a... Like I'm not even me. You think you're looking at me, you're not. just kind of felt like a... Like, I'm not even me. You think you're looking at me, you're not.

That kind of thing? Yeah, just like... Yeah, and I could see exactly how, like, I remember it marries, knowing that there was like, that there was a kind of guy, like if I put on, what's the song like, in your eyes, the light, the heat, like what is that Genesis or something? I don't know. In your eyes, I think it's called. That that would really just be like, oh my god, like this song, which is so great, and this girl, you know, like that that would sort of generate this like man feeling. And that there was another song, Brown Eyed Girl.

That's been awesome. Yeah. Yeah. Even though I don't have brown eyes, that it cultivated a feeling of just a brown eyed girl up here, like girl next door kind of feeling. And that that was another thing that the customers liked to feel, you know, it was kind of like a homey feeling. So I think, ah, but you know, these things aren't so different than life itself, like noticing qualities in the rest of life, which I was doing all the time anyways.

I mean, like in my first collection of short stories, I think there's only one story that has a Peep show in it. So the amount of noticing I was doing in my 20s was across the board. And most of what I was noticing was not in that club or in Mr. Peeps. What were some of the conversations that you know about about your book that you found most interesting? Like what were some of the themes that you're glad your book provoked?

You know, the themes in the conversations. I mean the things that make me most happy to read are like women who while they were reading the book felt kind of exposed, like, oh no, this is like my whole inner life exposed here in this book. And you know, I've had people tell me that like they were reading it on the plane and they felt like they at a certain point had to put it away not because of the sexual content, but because like they were sitting next to their husband and it was all their all their true feelings that they weren't saying. And that's always kind of astonishing to me like, oh writing can do that. Like I get a lot of messages from older women who say like,

oh, this all happened to me. My all fours time was 20 years ago. But I'm stunned to realize that I wasn't alone. I thought I was uniquely crazy or irresponsible or something. And so they're just, it's like a reframing of their life to have the community from the book. Well I look forward to your next book. Thank you so much for being on our show. Thank you so much, Terri.

Miranda July's latest novel is called All Fours. This is Fresh Air. This is Fresh Air. Jazz historian Kevin Whitehead is going to review a newly released recording of a concert he attended in 1978 by pianist Sun Ra and his orchestra. Kevin says the colorful Philadelphia bandleader didn't always connect with traditional jazz audiences but he'd found a second home doing so in Baltimore. Piano solo Pianist Sun Ra called his sprawling orchestra's orchestras and like Noah's Ark they crammed in an improbable amount of vibrant variety. He had his earworm

melodies like that one, Watusi, with its percolating Afro-Cuban percussion. The orchestra played squalling, free jazz barrages, and sang genial vocal chants connected with Sun Ra's personal cosmology involving space travel and an interplanetary exodus. When you forget vibrations from an asteroid Tethyst tree from an asteroid to core Makes your life filled with space joy June Tyson, longtime singer and costumer for the orchestra,

who decked them out in striking, spangled outfits that looked good when the chanting musicians did a ring dance in front of the stage, counterclockwise, like the ancestors. At the other end of time, Sunrise keyboard synthesizer could become a rocket taking off for, and maybe arriving at, a more hospitable planet than this one. This music comes from newly released recordings of Sun Ra in 1978, playing one of the Left Bank Jazz Society's weekly Sunday concerts in Baltimore. Some Left Bank regulars dislike the jazz avant-garde to the point of scolding musicians who went too far.

And yet this show was Sun Ra's fifth for the Left Bank in under two years, making him very much a house favorite. He did draw his own audience, but the Left Bank's African-American standbys dug him too, knowing a comic persona and a black carnival act when they saw one. Sun Ra was serious, but it's not like he didn't know he was funny. His wisdom was couched in puns and wordplay. But Sun Ra's warm welcome was really because his rocket to the future flew straight through the jazz of the 1930s and 40s. He was well drilled in the fundamentals the old-school jazz fans revered. Oh, yeah!

Are you tired? I attended a few of Sun Ra's Left Bank concerts, and this one got even odder than usual when documentary filmmaker Bob Muggies overhead movie lights came up after the first set, as if the gods were checking in from above. Some of Muggies footage turns up in his his fine film Sun Ra, Joyful Noise. In the 70s, Ross started reviving then obscure 1930s swing tunes by his early idol and one-time employer bandleader Fletcher Henderson. Those vehicles for trumpet sensation Michael Ray let the orchestra traverse time as well as space. This is yeah, man. ["Yeah, Man"] Sun Ra and his orchestra played three sets that evening in 1978. The double album, The Lights on a S Satellite gives a fair sampling of their

range and includes a few tunes they didn't record so much. There are good features for tenor saxophone hero John Gilmore and altowist Marshall Allen. At age 100, Marshall leads a posthumous Sun Ra orchestra that also has a new CD called Lights on a Satellite. That modern band has its moments, but there's only one son Ra as a leader or keyboard player. Here he is on organ for Round Midnight, just playing the melody his way. ["Round Midnight"] The The producer of this and dozens of historical jazz records, many of which we've praised here on the show, is Zev Feldman, who likes to fill out album booklets with extracts from

interviews he conducts with witnesses whose memories are not always accurate or pertinent. The Sun Ra booklet contains a few contradictory or just plain wrong statements, some made by Feldman himself, about such easy to verify stuff as what day or days the orchestra played that weekend or at what time. Those famous ballroom shows were all Sundays from 5 to 9 p.m. In the booklet someone guesses Sun Ra played three or four times for the Left Bank Jazz Society when it was 13 concerts in 11 years. Producer Feldman calls himself the Jazz Detective,

but it's a detective's job to sift through conflicting accounts to tell us what really happened, not just throw it all out there before racing off to another case. Valuable music like this deserves more scrupulous documentation. Jazz historian Kevin Whitehead reviewed Sun Ra, Lights on a S Satellite live at the left bank. Kevin's latest book is Play the Way You Feel, the essential guide to jazz stories on film. If you'd like to catch up on fresh air interviews you missed, like this week's interviews with Billie Eilish and Phineas or with Ronny Chang of The Daily Show and the series Interior Chinatown or about TikTok and its uncertain future,

check out our podcast. You'll find lots of interviews. And to find out what's happening behind the scenes of our show and get our producers recommendations for what to watch, read and listen to, subscribe to our free newsletter at whyy.org slash fresh air. Fresh airs executive producer is Danny Miller, our technical director is Audrey Bentham. Our engineer today is Adam Stanaszewski. Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Phyllis Myers, Roberta Shorrock, Ann-Rae Baldonado, Sam Brigger, Lauren Krenzel, Teresa Madden, Monique Nazareth, Susan Yacundi,

and Anna Bauman. Our digital media producer is Molly Sivi Nesper. Thea Challener directed today's show. Our co- producer is Molly Sivi-Nesper. Thea Challener directed today's show. Our co-host is Tanya Mosley. I'm Tariq Rose.