SALUTING TWO PRECIOUS CULTURAL ICONS WE’VE LOST
by Cash Michaels
Last week was a difficult one for me, not just because I had to sit there and watch King Trump and “Chainsaw” Musk further exert their criminal dominance over the federal government and America, but because I, and many others of my generation, lost two precious cultural icons of our youth.
Ms Roberta Flack, and Mr. Gene Hackman.
I define “cultural icon” as an artist, literary or sports figure whose body of work exeeds all boundaries to reach the broadest possible audience with the highest standards imaginable. I love acknowledging these people, because there’s something about them and their cultural contributions we can all relate to that give us collective peace, and maybe even joy.
I do this from time to time, take a left turn at the intersection of politics and popular culture, because the two subjects fascinate me. In fact, if you’ve paid close attention over the years, they’ve fed off of one another frequently. But there are also times when the fruits of popular culture allow us to escape the brutal realities of unseemly politics.
This is one of those times.
I don’t find much solace in what passes for today’s music or movies/television. More times than not, when I want to relax, I listen to some of the classic songs of my youth - a little Motown, James Brown, Aretha - or find an old movie that I have fun rediscovering the things I missed when I first watched it many, many years ago.
So when two cultural icons of my youth pass on, and I learn about it during the same week, that has impact, because right away, I find myself being thankful for all that they’ve contributed to my life, and the cultural fabric of this country and world. Through the magic of either digital recording or film, their magnificent work will continue to contribute for generations to come.
MS. ROBERTA FLACK - Her ballads were haunting. Her voice soothing. And her artistry legendary.
I was a kid growing up in the Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn, NY when I first heard the soul-stirring music of Roberta Flack coming from my favorite radio station then, 1600 WWRL-AM. Amid the the funk of James Brown, the “wicked’ Wilson Pickett, Sly and the Family Stone, Aretha Franklin and more, came this slow, melodiously, beautiful female voice on piano singing “The First Time Ever I Saw His Face.”
Back in those days, Black radio in NY was primarily AM, so there was nothing “sweet” about the sounds you were hearing. The music, though great, was mostly loud. If you wanted to clearly hear and enjoy the various highs and lows of your favorite songs, you had to either listen to FM (assuming a station there was playing the same stuff), or go out and purchase the album. Us poor kids just went with our daily ration of loud and brash AM radio signals if we wanted to enjoy our favorite music.
And record companies like Motown deliberately mastered their music for AM radio, so that if you were down the block, and someone with an AM radio was playing Diana Ross and the Supremes in a park or on an apartment stoop up the block, you could tell what song was playing because the horn and string sections were always pulsating on those Motown songs.
But when Roberta Flack came along, the days of hard horn and loud string sections were over.
As good as she sounded on AM, it was when “First Time Ever…” was played on FM, or someone played her album in their home, that you truly heard the gift GOD gave us in a young musical genius from a little town in North Carolina called Black Mountain.
The child of two parents who also loved music, Roberta Cleopatra Flack began playing the piano when she was 4, learning Bach, Beethoven and Chopin.
Later, when her family moved to Arlington, Va., Roberta continued her music studies in high school, earning a full scholarship to Howard University at the age of 15. She graduated Howard at 19, went back to North Carolina to teach music, then went back to the Washington, D.C. area to further teach music, and moonlight in area nightclubs, against school district policy.
It was 1968 when young Roberta Flack was discovered playing at a summer music concert by a popular jazz musician and later signed to Atlantic Records.
Shortly after, actor/director Clint Eastwood, who was big at the box office then, heard her music, and used “First Time Ever…” in his film “Play Misty for Me.”
In the years that followed, more extraordinary music from Roberta Flack would come - “Killing Me Softly With His Song”; “Feel Like Making Love To You”;”You’ve Got a Friend”; “The Closer I Get to You”;”Back Together Again”, the last three recorded with the amazing Donny Hathaway before his tragic death in 1979.
Ms. Flack even had the honor of playing for South African President Nelson Mandela during her tour through the nation in 1999.
During the course of her long career, Ms. Flack would be awarded four Grammy Awards - plus one Lifetime Achievement honor.
She suffered a stroke in 2016, then two years later collapsed on a concert stage. That episode forced her to use a wheelchair for the rest of her life.
In 2022, Ms. Flack was diagnosed with ALS, Lou Gehrig’s disease, which took away her ability to sing.
Last week, Ms. Roberta Flack died at the age of 88, surrounded by her loving family.
The legacy of Roberta Flack is one of true musicianship and artistry. She is a cultural icon because she was true and unique to her craft. And for that, my generation thanks her for her music, as will many generations to come.
MR. GENE HACKMAN - Gene Hackman wasn’t just an actor, but an extraordinary and versatile artist who inhabited the many dynamic roles he portrayed onscreen in some of the most dramatic performances of the century. Probably why his mysterious death made headline news last week when his 95-year-old body was found in his New Mexico home, along with that of his 61-year-old wife. Authorities are still investigating.
But Mr. Hackman’s career portfolio is truly amazing, from New York City Detective Jimmy “Popeye” Doyle in “The French Connection” (his first Academy Award win); to Lex Luthor in “Superman”, to his second Oscar-winning turn as the villainous sheriff in “The Unforgiven” with Clint Eastwood.
One of my favorite Gene Hackman movies is “Crimson Tide” with another great cultural icon, the always amazing Denzel Washington. Another is his performance as a conservative US senator whose daughter is marrying the son of a gay night club owner in the crazy 1996 hit comedy “The Birdcage” with Robin Williams and Nathan Lane.
Gene Hackman was the quintessential American actor who we never took our eyes off of because he was never plain or predictable in his performances.
Mr. Hackman later left Hollywood, left the celebrity he resisted, and sought solitude in New Mexico, becoming a prolific novelist.
We hadn’t really heard much from him, or about him, again, until last week when it was reported that he was found dead in his home with his wife and dog.
Published reports are that local authorities believe Gene Hackman’s last day alive was February 17th. At this writing, it's been reported that Mr. Hackman died of a heart disease.
One of a kind cultural icons like Stevie Wonder, Marlon Brando, Michael Jordan, Michael Jackson, Quincy Jones, Johnny Cash, Muhammad Ali, Ernest Hemingway, Frank Sinatra, Aretha Franklin, Dolly Parton, Steven Spielberg, and yes, Roberta Flack and Gene Hackman, along with many others, help to define the cultural parameters of our society in ways that when they’re gone, we all feel it, and never forget. Indeed, they redefine the standards of their areas of expertise, and our memories of their work speak to the unique longevity of their accomplishments.
Celebrating the work and legacies of Gene Hackman and Roberta Flack is not just important in terms keeping at least the memories of their cultural contributions alive, but, quite frankly, for our collective mental health.
After witnessing that embarrassing debacle of King Trump and Court Jester J.D.’s shameful bumrush of President Zelenskyy of Ukraine in the Oval Office last Friday, something I’m convinced was a cheap show for Trump’s Russian buddy, Vladimir, and of course, Trump's ultra-divisive address to Congress Tuesday, I was so, so grateful I wasn’t writing about any of that this week, and had already started scribing this tribute to the two precious cultural icons we’d lost. Doing so allowed me to put that distasteful nonsense behind me in favor of more pleasant, and constructive memories.
That’s the power of great cultural icons and their work.
What Ms. Flack and Mr. Hackman represented was a goodness to escape to because they were so unique, honest and generous in their art and expression. What they did so well they did for all of us. They allowed us to become a part of their creativity, and to share it when we paid to see their performances in a theater, or watched them on TV. What they did lifted us all above the tedious and outrageous, and into a welcomed world where we could forget, even for a few moments, the blunt recklessness of politicians who could care less.
Ms. Flack and Mr. Hackman cared a great deal, I submit, which is why they would only allow excellence to be their calling card.
Both were recognized by their peers in life, and in death, for their unique contributions.
Both have made their special, one-of-a kind marks on our culture that will probably never be duplicated.
Both, in their roles as cultural icons, brought joy to a wide variety of admirers who drew emotional sustenance from their artistry, work and attention to detail.
Roberta Flack and Gene Hackman proved that the artist plays an essential role in our society, and that their art helps us put life in its proper perspective.
And for that, I thank them both for what they’ve contributed to our lives, allowing us to once again, believe that there are those in the public square who are committed to what’s good about all of us, that we can all share.
America, remembering precious icons like Roberta Flack and Gene Hackman makes living through all the crap we’re dealing with now worthwhile, as long as we can escape, even for a brief moment.
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