todd55devoe's blog: "american idol"

The semiotics of Sanjaya, dawg

ANNE KINGSTON | June 4, 2007 |

ANNE KINGSTON

When Katherine Meizel defends her doctoral thesis at the University of California at Santa Barbara next week, it will be the first time "Paula Abdul" and "dialectic relationship" are uttered in the same forum. "America Singing: The Mediation of Identity Politics on American Idol," is the first Ph.D. to be written about the show, or, as the 33-year-old ethnomusicology student defines it, the "system that results in the simultaneous creation of product and built-in audience -- a commodity package with 'consumer included.' "

Meizel, an opera singer with a Ph.D. in performance, became a regular American Idol viewer in 2003 after reading a much-quoted New York Times column that criticized the show's enthusiasm for melisma, a vocal mannerism popularized by Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey, which the paper dismissed as "cramming songs with hundreds of gratuitous notes." Meizel quickly became intrigued by the way voters responded to contestants' regional, ethnic and religious affiliations rather than their singing ability. American Idol, she theorized, is literally the stage upon which ideas of American identity are played out -- and capitalized upon. A thesis was born.

The repackaged version of the British hit Pop Idol proved fertile academic terrain for Meizel, serving profound themes up under klieg lights. American Idol is, after all, the archetypal American Dream factory -- one in the business of fetishizing contestants' journeys from small-town America to Hollywood and their possible big break. Failure, as the program teaches, is part of the dream: American Idol's lesson is that it can presage success for the brave if not always talented -- viz.this year's much-maligned Sanjaya and season three's William Hung, whose absurdly off-key rendition of She Bangs in the auditions made him a star. "In reality TV, the American Dream is more about ambition than it is about success," Meizel says. "No matter what your level of talent, once you've demonstrated this ambition and risk-taking ability then you've indicated you're living the American Dream, whether or not the dream gets crushed."

American Idol has also become a pulpit for what Meizel calls "civil religion," a God-Bless-America evangelicalism twinning faith with patriotism. The gospel, soul and R&B repertoire that dominates the program, she points out, has been denuded of any association with civil-rights politics and carefully linked to "safe" aspects of African-American and popular culture. The lyrics of 2004 winner Fantasia Barrino's power ballad I Believe, for instance, which borrowed from gospel tradition, also echoed the language of a speech given by President Bush after 9/11. This season, Melinda Doolittle received similar "Southern African-American Christian Woman" packaging, Meizel says, when guest coach Jon Bon Jovi told her she should "Just testify, it's church!" when singing Have a Nice Day. Meizel views the program's idealization of the South as part of a larger cultural pattern. "The South is where we turn whenever we can't figure out American identity," she says, noting many of the show's most successful contestants -- Taylor Hicks, Kelly Pickler, Carrie Underwood and Ruben Studdard -- reinforce Southern archetypes to the point of caricature. The fact so many American Idol contestants and American presidents hail from the region isn't a coincidence, she says.

Yet almost paradoxically, Meizel maintains the program's success hinges on the glimmers of authenticity that escape its tightly scripted format and rampant commercialism. "Despite contestants' packaging, their real personalities and experiences leak through," she says. "Viewers see themselves on TV; they identify with "he's Filipino like me" or "she's black like me." Originally a skeptical viewer, Meizel is now a voting fan. Part of her 321-page dissertation, which she hopes to publish as a book, discusses how she started voting. "As much as I critique voting based on identity, I've gotten sucked into it," she says. She voted for Elliott Yamin in 2006 because, like her, he's Jewish. This season she voted for Jordin Sparks, whom she praises for allowing her hair to return to its natural curly state after straightening it. "African-American women always end up with straightened hair on the show. It's part of fixed ideas about what it is to look like a celebrity," she says. "But hair is also an important site of ethnic identity construction." She laughs. "A friend of mine is writing her dissertation on hair."