The icon indicates free access to the linked research on JSTOR.

In the history and cultural impact of disco music, the 1977 blockbuster Saturday Night Fever, starring John Travolta as working-class “dance king” Tony Manero, wasn’t only notable for bringing the disco sound and culture to mainstream audiences, translating Vince Aletti’s writings for The Village Voice, Rolling Stone, and Record World for a much wider public, it also made a strong case for the cross-pollination of disco and perhaps its most antithetical genre: classical music.

JSTOR CollaborationJSTOR Collaboration

To a large degree, it was never a completely unified or singular style. Disco resulted in a global, Esperanto-like music that would be shared by, and marketed to, the world,” writes music historian Ken McLeod.

In the case of Saturday Night Fever, “[t]he use of disco-inflected classical music in the film represents the economic and social success to which Tony and his friends ultimately aspire,” argues McLeod. “The disco milieu represents one form of illusion—the illusion of power in the outside ‘real’ world that Tony imagines.”

Indeed, classical music represents an exotic world of sophistication, elitism, and wealth which, especially when merged with a homogeneous disco beat, becomes an enticing symbol of the unattainable, illusory, and artificial nature of Tony’s dreams.

Walter Murphy’s “A Fifth of Beethoven” makes its appearance when Tony and his friends arrive at the 2001 Oddyssey (sic) disco club.

“To some extent he is represented as the new heir to the cultural prestige of classical music,” writes McLeod of Tony’s appearance. The soundtrack, with its

seemingly contradictory and almost synthetically forced fusion of classical music and disco underlines the artificiality of his entrance and of the world into which he has crossed. It is likely no accident that the famous “fate” motive, heard here near the beginning of the movie, functions as a foreshadowing of the dramatic events that will soon unfold within this world.

“A Fifth of Beethoven” is easily the highest-profile instance of disco appropriation of classical music. Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 is typically associated with notions of monumentality, heroism, fate, and relentless transcendence of the will. And while Beethoven’s version is about transcending humanity, Murphy’s is steeped in humanity, as it represents acceptance of common human desires—such as dancing—rather than superhuman transcendence of them.

More to Explore

Donna Summer, 1976

The Year The Grammys Honored Disco

In 1980, The Grammys gave disco its own category, but the genre was already receding into invisibility.

The soundtrack also featured another instrumental disco–classical interpretation: David Shire’s “Night on Disco Mountain,” which adapts Mussorgsky’s orchestral tone poem Night on Bald Mountain (which is also the Chernabog segment in Disney’s Fantasia). “Night on Disco Mountain” is heard when Tony and his friend pretend to jump off the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge.

“The faked suicides are symbolized by the ‘fake’ classical music,” writes McLeod.

Shire’s track adds another layer of grotesque ambient sounds to further heighten the atmosphere of chaos and alienation, producing what McLeod calls “an international and futuristic potpourri of sounds.”

“A Fifth of Beethoven” and “Night on Disco Mountain” weren’t isolated instances of classical–disco fusion. Wendy Carlos’s Switched-On Bach and Switched-On Brandenburgs recordings became instant commercial radio and dance hits. K-Tel Records initiated their popular Hooked on Classics series that combined classical music with elements of disco and pop music. This trend spawned a number of disco–classical albums such as Klassiks Go Disko, featuring “A Sixth of Tchaikovsky” and “Brahms’s Disco Dance No. 5,” and Saturday Night Fiedler, an album of disco arrangements by the Boston Pops.

“Many of classical music’s qualities, such as structural complexity and cultural prestige, were natural targets for simplification, reduction, and transmission to a mass audience,” argues McLeod. Artificiality is another common thread, as both genres thrive on the notion. “As in a discotheque,” he writes, “classical music is often enjoyed and appreciated in escapist settings by wealthy, well-dressed devotees.”

There are also similarities between classical and disco compositional style.

“Like much classical dance music, disco relies on rigid structural symmetry and formulaic rules of composition,” writes McLeod. That means that “formal classical dances, such as the minuet or sarabande, are stylized and highly choreographed in much the same manner as disco formalized many dance steps and dances such as the Bus Stop or L.A. Hustle.”

Add to that orchestral arrangements full of flourishes and virtuostic vocals, especially by the likes of Donna Summer or Diana Ross.

Given that disco was heavily produced and presented a hedonistic, sartorial image, similar to that sometimes promoted in classical music circles, the two genres, “[p]aired by their similar sonic and visual projections of wealth, leisure, and excess…often were a comfortable match,” concludes McLeod.


Support JSTOR Daily! Join our membership program on Patreon today.

Resources

JSTOR is a digital library for scholars, researchers, and students. JSTOR Daily readers can access the original research behind our articles for free on JSTOR.

American Music, Vol. 24, No. 3 (Autumn 2006), pp. 347–363
University of Illinois Press