by Alan Leftridge
The situation was perplexing. I had anticipated a mob-scene, but there were perhaps a dozen people standing in groups of two or three, chatting in low voices.
A half-hour earlier, the concierge confided to me that the Rolling Stones were going to perform the next night in Little Rock and that they were soon arriving to stay at the hotel. His disinterest caused me to ask if they had performed in the city before. Bemused, he said yes, and then declared that they always stay at the Peabody. The concierge appeared indifferent, but I was excited to see the band members up close. Linda and I found a seat in the lobby, no more than 10 paces from the entrance.
Positioned beside me was a middle-aged man who asked, “Are you here to see the Stones?”
“Not their concert,” I said. “I have to leave in the morning. But, since they are staying in the hotel I thought it would be interesting to see them in person. Have you seen them?”
“I saw them in 1975 at Arrowhead Stadium in Kansas City,” he said. “They performed with Billy Preston, Chakka Khan, and The Eagles. The ticket price was $12.” We laughed.
Time passed, and the collection of onlookers did not increase. Then, to our left entered a person through the front door of the hotel, and with long strides advanced across the lobby towards the bank of elevators. “It’s Ronnie Wood, get his picture, get his picture,” Linda whispered.
“No… that’s not Ronnie Wood,” I said. “He looks too small.”
A few moments later another person entered.
“Alan! Keith Richards. Get a picture!”
“Come on… he can’t be Richards,” I said. “He’s too small and he looks like a caricature. These must be body-doubles intended to distract us. The Stones must be coming in another entry.”
A third person came through the door. “Hi Charlie,” the guy next to me called out.
I turned to Linda. “It is Charlie Watts…. Nobody else looks like he does.”
“Of course it is,” she said, “and you didn’t get any pictures!”
Mick Jagger followed, also smaller than I expected. It was then that I realized that my archetypical prototype of a rock-and-roll star was that these larger-than-life personas would be a traveling spectacle, impressive in physical stature, dodging a frenzy of fans. I was wrong.
Classical Greek thinkers like Plato asserted that all things have a set of characteristics that give them their essence. This mode of ideological thought leads to a philosophy of essentialism concluding that every thing is definable by its fixed prime example. The prototype leads to an archetype. To Plato, “a rabbit is a rabbit is a rabbit.” There is not such a thing as rabbit-ness. Plato denied that there are many ways to describe the characteristics of a rabbit. The archetypes that we behold vary, depending on our experiences and background. Nonetheless, most of us have Greek essentialism burned into our cultural psyche. We seek quintessence in all aspects of life.
I once considered The Rolling Stones’s “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” as representative of perfection in its original composition. Other bands’ attempts to cover the song seemed poor renditions, and an affront to my sensibilities. The same held true for the complete Beatles library. How could any band play an acceptable version of “Eight Days a Week” or “Eleanor Rigby”? Yet, in spite of this bias, I have heard many interpretations of these songs—some instrumental, others vocal, many blending music genres— that have been more than pleasing to my taste.
We look for expressions of perfection in our daily lives. A quick survey of my satellite television programming shows no fewer than 10 stations dedicated to our search for archetypes—channels that program the latest fashion, home, health, and fitness trends.
Television also provides a framework for political discourse. Politicians exploit a perceived desire to find an archetype of the most-common American. Some politicians assert that they alone know and draw the support of the “real Americans.” Political pundits and politicians pinpoint the attributes of people we should try to be like. Most of the time the characteristics are biased, exaggerated, or beyond our understanding.
We are attracted to archetypes because of our world-view. Yet, Heraclitus, another classical Greek scholar, believed that nothing is fixed, that all is fluid. Following his philosophy, our common concepts of archetypes should change through enlightenment. It follows that our interpretive field should reflect this fluidity.
Programs require constant scrutiny by people who have an understanding of future audience demographic shifts and are trained to seek innovative ways to interpret the resources. Managers and planners must be willing, regardless of costs, to make continuous changes to programs so that the interpretation reflects evolving paradigms. Diligent reflection will help us continue to renew our standards of excellence through recognizing our tendencies to create archetypes.
Alan Leftridge is a contract interpretive trainer, visitor services trainer, and interpretive writer based out of the Swan Valley of Montana. Contact him at www.leftridge.com.
