Dustyology - Annotated Essay
Beginning Ideas about a Course of Study
Nancy J. Young
Lesley University
Interdisciplinary Seminar I
December 24, 2006
Note: This author is the sole owner of this intellectual property. Permission to reproduce the work in any form (including reprinting it on a website) is expressively forbidden without the written consent of the author.
In this paper I will present my preliminary thoughts on Section 2 and Section 4 of the Doctoral Study Plan, as required for this assignment. I will discuss my domain of study and its corresponding three areas of study, and include a bibliography of relevant sources, many of which I have annotated.
The general topic I hope to explore in my doctoral study is British pop singer Dusty Springfield. My initial question concerned how Dusty, as a silenced woman who did or could not express the truth of her life in a direct and healthy way, developed her voice and found creative ways of expression. Subsequently I have begun to explore a second set of potential topics, these related to Dusty Springfield fans. My questions at this stage include: What is Dusty’s appeal to fans? What emotional and social needs are fulfilled by being a Dusty fan? Can the relationship be healthy or healing? Does Dusty’s legacy help create connections through fan communities? Can generalities be drawn about different types of Dusty fans? If so, how might the relationship one fan group has to Dusty be compared to that of another, e.g., lesbians and gay men? Who does each of these groups need Dusty to be? What do they give voice to and what do they silence in that effort—in Dusty, in each other, in themselves? What does it mean for marginalized groups, like women or gays, to have Dusty as a heroine? What is the process of identification these fans have with Dusty, and does it change their sense of self?
After considering questions like these, my working domain question at the moment is: What meanings/values/functions does Dusty hold for her various fan groups, and why do these matter? The latter part of that question arises from the discussion of this paper in class. After I neatly outlined some major principles of audience studies for my classmates, I was asked “so what?” As I begin to think about this question, I ask myself: Who do I want to speak to through this study? What do I want them to know? A hypothetical question Caroline Heller posed about making my study “matter” was: What do we need to understand about how gay and lesbian students form a sense of identity? Or, I might ask: What do icons like Dusty have to teach gay and lesbian youth and adults? Although clearly I am still trying to define my domain, I have begun to explore theories and methods of research, in particular from cultural studies and lesbian/feminist/queer studies in relation to some of the questions posed above. The three areas I have chosen for approaching this domain are: fan/audience studies, how individuals create meaning and form their identities, and the history of UK and U.S. women in popular music from 1960-1999. I will primarily discuss some of the theories and scholarship of fan studies, but will first preview the other areas.
I have chosen the history of popular music in the U.S. and the UK from 1960-1999 because these years roughly parallel Dusty’s professional career as a singer. In viewing her meaning to fans, it will be important for me to place her within the contexts of the changing views and roles of female singers. For example, as Simon Bell notes in Dusty Definitely, before Springfield launched her solo career in 1964, all British female singers sounded like they came from the 1950’s. Her ground breaking choice of material, vocal style, and iconic fashion sense all influenced how different sets of fans reacted to her. The history of popular music on both sides of the Atlantic during these years also includes The British Invasion of America, of which Dusty played a part, and the Motown Invasion of Britain, which she was instrumental in orchestrating. Dusty’s success as a soul singer in the UK and lack of success as one in the U.S. is another element of this history worth examining.
I have not yet researched the area of how individuals create meaning, suggested to me by my Senior Advisor, Julia Halevy. She suggested that before I explore what meanings Dusty might hold for various subsets of fans, I should learn about how one creates meaning in general, for example in the psychology of identity formation and the study of how individuals develop values and relate to heroes and icons. Some related questions/ideas about this area came from our class discussion: What do people take from their engagement with artists? How does Dusty break the silence of her fans? A suggested resource was Transforming Knowledge by Elizabeth Kamarck Minnich, a book that explores dominant systems of meaning and how they rationalize inequality. The psychological process of projection was also mentioned, for example, the question of what meaning a star holds for a group or a part of ourselves that either we cannot tolerate or that we need.
Fan studies or audience research, under the rubric of cultural studies, offers many insights into my domain of study. A logical starting point for this discussion is Joli Jenson’s (1992) essay “Fandom as Pathology: The Consequences of Characterization.” Jenson here provides a rationale for the scholarly study of fans; she reviews the history of how fans have been viewed as twisted or pathetic, then illustrates how they are no more pathological than scholars, and that making them “the other” privileges “us.” She explains how studying fandom as normal can teach us about connection, value and meaning, all ideas which are critical in viewing how Dusty fans find meaning in her life and music and in their connection to each other.
Now that the credibility of the scholarly pursuit has been established, we can look at some scholarly foundations of thinking about fans. But, who are these fans? Why do they beg to be classified? Are their experiences and points of view so different? I hypothesize there are common experiences among many Dusty fans, but also critical distinctions between them, both of which are important in understanding how they relate to Dusty.
One cannot discuss Dusty’s fan groups without bringing up their sexual orientation—and Dusty’s. The facts are that Dusty came out as bisexual in 1970, but never had any serious or lasting relationships with men. In later years she refused to wear any label of sexual identity. Nonetheless, Dusty’s sexuality becomes a point of contention among her own fans. In the online The Dusty Springfield Community which included Dustophiles aged 16 to 60, male and female, gay and straight, turf wars over Dusty’s sexual identity were not uncommon. Heterosexuals needed to believe she was bisexual (or that her sexual orientation “didn’t matter”), gay men insisted she was a camp icon, and lesbians claimed her as one of our own. To teens she was no more divine than in her youthful beehive; to the older fans she still looked fabulous in her forties and fifties. The British thought America ruined her; the Americans felt guilty that she fell apart while on our shores.
One particularly contested area is how gay male and lesbian fans have viewed Dusty. In fact, how Springfield has been interpreted by queer theorists presents an ironic example of how a new narrative can re-marginalize a group it sought to liberate. Barry (2002) discusses how some lesbians felt invisible in feminist theory and thus allied with gay men under the new banner of queer theory. “However, it is sometimes argued that one of the effects of accepting the comprehensive term ‘queer theory’ is ultimately to perpetuate the patriarchal subservience of women’s interest to men” (p. 143). Indeed, in my study of queer theory, I have found a field dominated by inquiry into male texts and values, with the lesbian interest in male queerness unreciprocated. As Adele Patrick (2001) notes about “the queering of Dusty,” analysis of Springfield by such scholars focuses on her meaning for gay men. (See, for example, Smith, 2001). “Critical accounts of Dusty as a woman, a lesbian star, or of Dusty’s female fans’ pleasures in her performances of femininity have been eclipsed by popular and theoretical interpretations of her as a wannabe drag queen with an ‘iconic’ gay male following” (p. 368).
The age of fans or their changing viewpoints over time is another contested area of interpretation. Second wave feminists rejected Springfield as a Tammy Wynette clone; for example the magazine Spare Rib “subordinate[d] the agency of Dusty and other [female] performers who fashion[ed] ‘differently,’ to excess” (p. 367). Her recordings were selectively read to support the interpretation of Dusty as a “passive victim of patriarchal control” (p. 366). At the same time, male singers adopting feminine excess (e.g., Mick Jagger’s imitation of Tina Turner) were lauded by musical critics.
Patrick (2001) offers an alternate feminist reading, which, for example, discusses how female fans value the cross-racial sisterhood of Dusty and black performers (without dismissing criticism of how black music was appropriated by white performers). She posits a sociocultural approach to understanding Dusty as a white soul queen, one that accounts for gender as well as race:
Her identifications with black women performers provide a model of identification where the reductive binary oppositions extrapolated from ‘white’/’black’ are problematised. The agency of emotional (feminine) excess generates the possibility for coalitions around the productive ‘intimacies between femininities’ described by female fans and artists (p. 374).
She also summarizes how the “feminine excess’ of Dusty and other soul performers and
fans can be interpreted through a feminist lens:
While acknowledging that racism has been and continues to operate on all levels in the music business, it is important that pleasurable (and, I would argue here, feminist and radical) identifications (for both black and white performers and audiences) are acknowledged and interrogated in their specific historical contexts, particularly in the light of the continual relegation of both white and black (female) soul performers to a position beneath the authenticity of (white male) rock stars (pp. 373-374).
Patrick recognizes female fans’ unique appreciation and understanding of the singer. She also shows how comparisons of fan groups could be made across time—the same feminists who mocked Dusty in the 1970’s may hold her in higher regard today.
Many cultural studies scholars cite French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu, for example, J. Fiske (1992) in “The Cultural Economy of Fandom.” Fiske uses Bourdieu’s theories as a framework for discussing three types of fan productivity: semiotic, enunciative, and textual. Semiotic productivity refers to fans creating their own interior meaning, e.g. “Madonna fans who made their own meanings of their sexuality rather than patriarchal ones” (p. 37). Enunciative productivity refers to discussions among fans or even fans’ adoption of dress and hair styles that mark them as members of a fan community.
Textual productivity refers to fan creating products, such as newsletters or web pages, or even rewriting episodes of a television series. Fiske also discusses cultural capital accumulation—how fans’ knowledge about a star, or collection of mass produced objects such as record albums, adds to the interpretation of the star’s text.
Bourdieu’s concept of semiotic production—how fans create their own interior meaning about a star—could be useful in exploring different ways fans interact with the Dusty they know inside themselves. In A Problem like Maria: Gender and Sexuality in the American Musical, Wolf (2002) describes two ways an audience might relate to a performer or a role: through identification—“I like her; therefore I want to be like her” or desire—“I like her; therefore I desire her” (p. 24).
Beginning with the “I want to be like her” premise, I could explore the many ways that fans have admired and identified with Dusty, for example, as a hero or role model. One trait of Dusty’s that appeals to many fans is her sense of justice, typified by a famous incident early in her solo career. In late 1964, Dusty, with her band The Echoes, went to South Africa, under a contract that specifically stated they would not play to any segregated audiences, the first ever by a British performer. Typically white artists would play at least a few segregated shows, and face no public criticism (Cross 1999). Governmental security agents at Dusty’s concerts in Johannesburg counted the number of “mixed race” people in the audience (which Springfield estimated was never any more than ten), and by the time they got to Cape Town, she and the band were put under “hotel arrest” and then forced out of the country (Bayly, 1997-2006) for defying the government in their failure to “observe [the] South African way of life” (O’Brien, 1989, p. 58). At the Johannesburg airport, black porters took off their berets and formed an honor guard for her exit (Valentine & Wickham 2002); back home, the reaction was mixed: “Dusty was criticized by some in the music business for her stand against apartheid.” (Bayly, 1997-2006). Although she had contested “’whiteness’ [as] the culture of power” (Perry, 2003, p. 74), she was reduced in the press to a quirky international incident girl (Cross, 1999) or worse, a publicity seeker, a charge advanced by the South African government (Bayly, 1997-2006). And while she demurely stated in her London Airport interview, “I don’t know the first thing about politics” (Cross, 1999), Springfield made a political statement no one other white artist had or would—for decades.
As these examples illustrate, fans could look up to Dusty as someone who stood up for what she believed in, on a personal artistic level, and in a global political forum. She may have represented to some a new world of women’s independence and equality for people of all races. In a study I could ask: How did various groups of fans react to this incident? Did their reactions vary according to race, age, or gender? Did Dusty influence fans’ political consciousness? How did the critical responses she received in some quarters influence how fans perceived her actions?
Another way fans relate to their object of alliegance, as noted earlier, is what Wolf (2002) calls “I like her; therefore I desire her” (p. 24). There are many questions here, about how Dusty might be appreciated as an object of sexual desire, for example, by both heterosexual men and gay women. Dusty’s publicity carefully depicted her as always pining for love, but with the man of her dreams always just beyond her grasp (Cross 1999). Did this enhance her appeal to straight male fans? There were certainly rumors about her sexuality for years before she came out, and her visits to London’s lesbian clubs like The Gateways made her well known in some of these circles (Gardiner 2003). However, what about those in the lesbian audience who may have been perceiving her as straight? Or even those lesbians who knew or suspected she was one of them, but had to read the gayness in her straight performances? Again, Wolf (2002) offers some interesting ideas that could be applied to reading Dusty’s performances.
The preface and introduction of Wolf’s text explains how she analyzes traditional 1950’s and 1960’s musicals from a lesbian feminist perspective. She argues that the mid-century American musical “offers connections to its spectators, especially socially marginalized spectators, who often interpret performances in surprising, unconventional ways” (p. viii). She squiggles out of the postmodern problem of defining “lesbian,” by declaring that the “lesbian” audience she studies “is a position occupied by desire, not by identity; by a willingness (which anyone can possess) to see and hear musicals from a feminist, lesbian perspective” (p. x). Wolf says she does not want “to posit a demonstrable connection between identity and interpretive practices but to model feminist and lesbian readings of musicals” (p. 5). She aims to do this through:
seeing and hearing in nonconventional ways. In consciously accounting for the importance of spectators’ identifications and desires; in not taking for granted heterosexual narratives; in seeing the lesbian in the straight character; in recontextualizing, replacing, re-viewing how straight performances of stage musicals may be read as lesbian. . . . The pervasive nature of a media devoid of lesbian representation can lead spectators to see, hear, and experience musical theater differently, queerly (p. 8).
Here are some examples of Wolf’s “lesbian readings” of musicals: “At times the spectator might respond to a moment out of its context, or she might place emphasis on a relationship that seems minor in the musical as a whole” (p. 38); a woman-filled setting can have lesbian overtones; an unattached woman can signify a lesbian as can a character who takes “male” qualities—even short hair. (Smith also gives some examples of these types of readings in her essay on Springfield.) All of these, and similar concepts, could be used to “read” how Dusty expressed herself, as well as how her lesbian fan base interpreted her life and music.
A third way that fans relate to their object of affection I might call: I like her; therefore I want her to help me. Stars can be seen by their fans as iconic figures to whom they turn to for healing, guidance, support, or understanding. In S. Hinderman’s (1992). ‘I’ll Be Here with You’: Fans, Fantasy and the Figure of Elvis,” he explains how fantasy helps form identity by joining desire and ego to allow healing. He views fans’ fantasies about Elvis as personal liberation, even if the fans are not questioning dominant power structures. It would be interesting to consider whether his ideas could be applied to Dusty’s female fans who, unlike Elvis’, might “raise the question that the conditions creating the need for such fantasies are engendered by institutional and social systems of power and control” (p. 132). Similar questions are raised in other ethnographic studies of female fans, e.g. Mary Ellen Brown’s (see Thornham 2000).
Boudieu’s concept of enunciative fan productivity can also be illustrated with Dusty fans. One obvious example is how the young women in her audiences in the 1960’s imitated her style—hair, makeup, clothing, etc. Carole Gibson, a Dusty fan since the 1960s, who met the star over a dozen times, tells of buying a style of purse because Dusty had one, and copying both Dusty’s backcombed bouffant and excessive application of black eyeliner. Dusty herself remarked about how strange it was at times to look into an audience and see copies of oneself (Gerrie 1994).
Bourdieu’s third category of fan production is textual, for example fans creating projects, such as newsletters and web pages. These products can be a useful place to study fans’ attitudes toward a star. I have been given copies of Dusty Springfield newsletters from the 1960’s and plan to interview Pat Rhodes, Dusty’s secretary, who produced them for the fans. Textual products also include fan drawings and poetry which can be analyzed. I’ve also recently seen letters to the editor written by Gibson and another fan, commenting on articles about Dusty in their local newspapers. Here we see, for example, the fans defending any criticism of the star, or pointing out an accomplishment they felt was ignored or downplayed in the press. This “I like her; therefore I want to help her” protective projection is yet another way that fans relate to Dusty.
Let’s Talk Dusty! (LTD), the Internet forum of which I am a principal founder/administrator/moderator, is a recent textual product. LTD was launched October 4th, and in two and a half months, over 90 members have joined and made over 14,000 posts in 600 different topics. It is a place for potential research, but also a locale for testing and gathering ideas, and community building. Here I can observe various fan groups, their modes of interaction, and their responses to Dusty. For example, I may invite fans to send in a description of what Dusty has meant to them, to gather some ideas about how to design a study on her value and functions for different fan groups.
Other clues can be seen in what types of people make what types of comments, which songs and photographs are favorites of fans, and how fans react to the latest news. For example, when Dusty was inducted into the UK Music Hall of Fame in November, there was much discussion on LTD on who should pick up her award for Dusty: Pat Rhodes, the loyal secretary or Vicki Wickham, her sometime manager and co-author of the sensationalistic biography that appeared soon after Dusty’s death. There was also much commentary on Patti LaBelle’s rendition of Dusty’s biggest hit “You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me” and young Joss Stone’s cover of “Son of a Preacher Man,” and each of their comments about Dusty at the ceremony. The consensus was not only that Joss’ was singing better, she that alone gave Dusty the respect she was due. In fans’ reactions like these, one can read their protectiveness of Dusty’s legacy and even of Dusty the person. Although she died in 1999, it seems some fans fear that Dusty would have been hurt by not receiving the recognition she deserved. These examples show that textual products are natural territory for “I like her; therefore, I want to help her,” fan responses.
Geraghty (2006) writes about how a textual product can help form a community of support for members who often may have little else in common, in “A Network of Support: Coping with Trauma through Star Trek Fan Letters.” Geraghty states his purpose is to “understand and conceptualize the affective relationship Star Trek has with its fans and analyze how its fans believe that it has helped them in daily life” and to “extrapolate how one might regard the Star Trek fan base as a collective network of support” in which they “share their own personal experiences, whether . . . positive or emotionally traumatic” (p. 1003). In sharing secrets and coming to understand that others share similar dilemmas, the fans Geraghty studied encouraged and supported each other. My experience with Dusty Internet forums has led me to similar conclusions. It might be interesting not only to design a study to determine if she elicits reactions similar to those of Geraghty’s science fiction fans, but to compare her healing potential among fan groups. Does it operate for all of them? In similar ways? What different sorts of traumas do different fan groups attempt to work through via Dusty—do they differ with sexual orientation or gender or age or nationality, for example, or are they more universal? How does this healing take place? For example, is it through identifying with Dusty? Desiring her? Seeking her protection? Feeling protective toward her? All of these? What is the process? What is the role other fans play in supporting each other?
Bourdieu’s concept of capital accumulation, whether the fan’s collection of recordings or simply knowledge about the star, could also be useful in researching Dusty’s value for various fan groups. Patrick (2001) comments on how male Dusty fans tend to be “completists” (collectors of every recording), while female fans are typically more enchanted with “extra-musical props,” such as a special photograph spread from a magazine (p. 370). Cultural capital can also refer to a fan’s knowledge about a star. Thus, Paul Howes (2001) is especially valued because of his “complete” guide to Dusty’s recordings. Fans like Carole Gibson are a great “asset” to a fan site like Let’s Talk Dusty because of her wide array of knowledge about Dusty’s life and music. For example, many fans have seen the clip of Dusty’s 1967 appearance on the American television show The Dating Game, and no one seems to approve of the “date” Dusty chose. They were awarded a chaperoned skiing trip in Europe (neither Dusty nor her date could ski), and many of us have wondered if Dusty ever went on this adventure. It seemed unlikely, but almost everyone imagined we’d never know the answer. Nonetheless the question was posted on the board, and within 24 hours Carole had located and posted not only the answer (no), but Dusty’s comments about the date:Ok, got it!
The article, entitled Close Call at Claridges, was in a sixties music paper, probably DISC, and written by David Griffiths.
Once comfortably settled in Mr Love (a restaurant), Dusty spoke. ‘A few days ago I was on a TV quiz show in Hollywood in which my prize was to go off on a date to winter sports in Kitzbuhel. Another girl on the show won a trip to Peru, which I'd have loved, but a European resort was no great thrill for me. Then my date turned out to be a young Greek-American who looked like Ken Dodd [a silly looking celebrity]. He was a nice guy but we didn't seem to have much in common, even though he wanted to get into show business and asked my manager to manage him! In the end, I managed to get out of going and came back to London instead’. gfThis kind of cultural capital is useful to other fans in terms of how they relate to Dusty. For example, fans who thought the date was undeserving of Dusty, but feared she was taken in by his corny romanticism on the show, must have felt relief that Dusty wiggled out of this obligation. Their “I like her; therefore, I want to help her” fantasy is fulfilled. The fantasy of “I like her; therefore, I want her” is also played out by lesbian fans who imagine a trio of contemporary all-female dates behind The Dating Game curtain.
In conclusion, although I must further research and reflect upon my domain of study, I am more comfortable at the moment with the idea of exploring fans’ responses to Dusty than in trying to decode the mysteries of her history and personality. The three areas I have chosen seem appropriate avenues for exploring these topics. At present, at least, I see clear possibilities in utilizing Boudrieu’s theories of fan production and am beginning to build upon Wolf’s description of how fans relate to performers. While I remain interested in all sorts of fan groups’ responses to Dusty, I am understandably drawn to her special appeal to female and specifically lesbian audiences.
Your comments and suggestions are most welcome; please email: allherfaces@dustyspringfield.info
Annotated Bibliography
Barry, P. (2002). Beginning theory: An introduction to literary and cultural theory. 2nd
ed. Manchester, UK: Manchester University Press.
This source provides an excellent overview of 20th and 21st century approaches to literary and cultural theory. Barry’s book suggested frameworks I should explore further and even where I might position myself vis-à-vis these various theories. Lyotard’s rejection of old metanarratives may be useful in thinking about Dusty as hero. Deconstructing Dusty’s performances as texts for evidence of “gaps, breaks, fissures and discontinuities of all kinds” (pp. 70-71) is another possibility.
Bennett, A., Shank, B. & and Toynbee, J. eds. The Popular Music Studies Reader.
Florence, KY: Routledge, 2005.
Black, C. (2003). What’s it all about? London: Ebury Press.
Autobiography of Cilla Black, British 60’s pop singer and contemporary of Dusty’s; could provide interesting contrasts.
Bourne, S. Brief encounters: Lesbians and gays in British cinema 1930-1971.
Burns, L. and Lafrance, M. (2002). Disruptive divas : feminism, identity & popular
music. New York : Routledge.
Chapter 1: A Cultural Studies Approach to Popular Music (Lafrance) and Chapter 2: “Close Readings” of Popular Song: Intersections among Sociocultural, Musical, and Lyrical Meanings (Burns) could prove useful.
Caputi, J. (2004). Goddesses and monsters: Women, myth, power, and popular culture.
Madison: U of Wisconsin Press/Popular Press.
May offer some insight into how women are viewed as heroes and how Dusty did or did not fit these molds.
Cross, S. (Producer and Director). (1999). Dusty Definitely BBC. Co-Production NVC
Arts.
This documentary is an excellent introduction to the life and music of Dusty Springfield. It posits initial identity questions, such as whether Mary O’Brien and her persona Dusty Springfield were the same person and how Dusty negotiated her identity as a lesbian in a heterosexist world. Many people important to Dusty are interviewed here, including her manager and friend Vicki Wickham (see Valentine & Wickham below), two romantic partners from the 1960s, secretary Pat Rhodes, backup singer and friend Simon Bell, and collaborator and producer Neil Tennet of The Pet Shop Boys. Some fans’ responses to Dusty are also evident in the footage from a Dusty evening at the National Film Institute, in which we see devotees from the 1960’s as well as the younger set appreciating her as a camp icon. Additionally Simon Bell and others speak about Dusty as a gay icon.
Dines, G. and Humez, M. H. eds. (1995). Gender, race, and class in media : a text-reader. Thousand Oaks, California : Sage.
Echols, A.(2002). Shaky ground: The '60s and its aftershocks. New York : Columbia University .
Elkan, A. (1965). (Executive Producer). Ready Steady Go! Special Edition: The Sounds of Motown. Dave Clark International Productions. 1985. Video.
This video captures Dusty hosting The Motown Invasion of England which Randall (see below) credits as on par with the Beatles’ invasion of the U.S. Springfield’s tireless promotion of black music was instrumental in bringing success to these acts in the UK.
Faderman, L. (1992). Odd girls and twilight lovers: A history of lesbian life in twentieth century America. New York: Penguin.
Faderman, L. (1985). Surpassing the love of men: Romantic friendship and love between women from the renaissance to the present. London: The Women’s Press.
Fiske, J. (1992). The culture economy of fandom. In L.A. Lewis (Ed.) The adoring audience: Fan culture and popular media (pp. 30-49). London: Routledge.
This piece uses sociologist Pierre Bourdieu’s theories as a framework for discussing three types of fan productivity: semiotic, enunciative and textual, as discussed in this paper. Fiske also discusses capital accumulation—how fans’ knowledge about a star, for example, adds to the interpretation of star’s text; another example would be the fans’ accumulation of mass produced products (e.g., record albums).
Bourdieu’s concept of semiotic production—how fans create their own interior meaning about a star—could be useful in exploring, for example, how Dusty’s life story or music might empower fans who had similar emotional struggles or shared her sexual orientation. Likewise, Bourdieu’s concept of capital accumulation, whether the fan’s collection of recordings or simply knowledge about the star, could be useful in framing research questions about how cultural capital functions in fan communities.
Firth, S. and Goodwin, A. eds. (1990). On record : rock, pop, and the written word. New York : Pantheon Books.
Potentially useful chapters include Do-talk and Don't-talk : The Division of the Subject in Girl-group Music by Barbara Bradby, Rock and Sexuality by Simon Frith and Angela McRobbie, Sexing Elvis by Sue Wise, and Teenage dreams by Sheryl Garratt. Potentially useful sections include Part One: Groundworks and Part Two: From Subcultural to Cultural Studies.
Gardiner, J. (2003). From the closet to the screen: Women at the Gateways Club 1945-1985. London: Pandora.
A history of London’s longest-running lesbian club told primarily through interviews with patrons through the years.
Geraghty, L. A network of support: Coping with trauma through Star Trek fan letters. The Journal of Popular Culture. 39, 1002-1024.
Geraghty discusses how Star Trek fans believe the show and their bond with each other helps them through their problems. Possible use of these ideas is discussed in the paper that precedes this bibliography.
Gerrie, M. (Executive Producer). (1994). Dusty: Full circle—the life and music of Dusty Springfield.. An Initial Film and Television Production in association with VVL and RPTA for BBC Television. Taragon Video.
This fascinating and poignant documentary is the only visual recording of a prolonged interview with Dusty in her mid 50’s, as she reflects back on her career. We see a mature woman, scarcely recognizable as the 1960’s icon, speaking in a hoarse smoker’s voice, awkwardly playing along with comedy hosts Dawn French and Jennifer Saunders. There are suggestions of where she wanted her career to go in what she hoped would be another comeback, and the philosophical approach to life she had reached through sobriety. Full Circle is difficult for Dusty fans to view, however, with their knowledge that she was soon to be diagnosed with breast cancer that would prove fatal.Gibson, C. (2006, December 15).
“The Dating Game,” Message posted to: http://www.dustyspringfield.info/forum/topic.asp?TOPIC_ID=719&
Offered as evidence of Boudreiu’s concept of fans’ cultural capital.Gibson, C. (2006, December 3).
“Letters to the Editor.” Message posted to http://www.dustyspringfield.info/forum/topic.asp?TOPIC_ID=645
Illustrates Boudreiu’s concept of the textual productivity of fans.
Glazebrook, C. (2004). The girl with earthworms in her mouth.
http://www.the-madolescents.com/Dusty.htm
A short story with Dusty as a central character; written for adolescent girls.
Harris, C. and Alexander, A. eds. (1998). Theorizing fandom: Fans subculture, and identity. Cresskill, N.J.: Hampton Press.
Reportedly this book explains the importance of fandom and develops theory around the topic, focusing on themes of class and gender.
Herman, J. (1997). Trauma and recovery. New York: Basic Books.
I reviewed this book because I wanted to understand how trauma may have silenced Dusty, and if her self-expression through, sexual acting out and self-mutilation was typical of a trauma survivor. Through discussions with my advisor, I have learned that it’s unlikely I will be able to establish that Dusty was a trauma survivor. There is little evidence in the record and most of the potential witnesses are dead (her one surviving relative is a virtual recluse). Nonetheless, I could compare Springfield’s pattern of symptoms to trauma survivors’, or see how fans who are trauma survivors relate their experience to Dusty’s.
Hesse-Biber, S and Yaiser, M. L. Yaiser. (2003). Feminist perspectives on social research. Oxford UP.
Hill, M. (2002). Fan Cultures (Sussex Studies in Culture and Communication) Hinderman, S. (1992). ‘I’ll be here with you’: Fans, fantasy and the figure of Elvis. In L.A. Lewis (Ed.) The adoring audience: Fan culture and popular media (pp. 107-134). London: Routledge.
Offered as an example of how fans relate to Dusty by what I term projecting protection. (See discussion in preceding paper.)
Howes, P. (2001). The complete Dusty Springfield. London: Reynold & Hearn.
Howe’s books is an incredible collection of encyclopedic knowledge about Dusty’s recordings—dates, backup singers, studios, producers, etc.—as well as the lifetime fan’s commentary on every song she recorded; these commentaries often include Dusty’s own remarks about her songs, as well. This information is helpful in fact checking, of course, but also to explore how Springfield’s music is evaluated by a lifelong fan. The book also includes a chronology of some of her television appearances and concerts, a discography, and videography. I look forward to the second edition, which Howes is publishing soon.
Inglis, I. The Ed Sullivan Show and the (censored) sounds of the sixties. The Journal of Popular Culture. 39, 558-575.
Ian Inglis interprets the episodes in which Ed Sullivan attempted to censor performers Bob Dylan, The Rolling Stones, and The Doors. Like the message of the musicals of the 1950s, the assumption here is “that heterosexuality is both natural and mandatory” (see Wolf below, p. 9). Inglis defines the object of censorship to be (hetero)sexual or political lyrics by male performers. He does not imagine how gay and lesbian performers of the 1960s had to censor themselves in more fundamental ways, and not for economic advantage, as the Rolling Stones did, but for economic survival, as Dusty Springfield did. It would be interesting to view Dusty’s performances on The Ed Sullivan through a female, and especially “lesbian” lens, in ways that Wolf (below) suggests. (Wolf’s lesbian readings are also discussed in the preceding paper.)
Jenson, J. (1992). Fandom as pathology: The consequences of characterization. In L.A. Lewis (Ed.). The adoring audience: Fan culture and popular media (pp. 30-49).
Jenson here provides a rationale for the scholarly study of fans, as discussed in the preceding paper.
Jenkins. (1992). Textual Poachers: Television Fans.
Discusses fans as creators of their own cultures using Michel de Certeau’s model.
Jivani, A. (1997). It’s not unusual: A history of gay and lesbian Britain in the twentieth century. Michael O’Mara Books.
According to Library Journal: “London-based journalist Jivani presents an anecdotal history of gay and lesbian life in Great Britain from the end of World War I to the present.
” Let’s Talk Dusty! http://www.dustyspringfield.info/forum/
Let’s Talk Dusty! (LTD) is the Internet forum of which I am a principal founder/administrator/moderator. LTD was launched October 4th, and in two and a half months, over 90 members have joined to make over 14,000 posts in 600 different topics. It is a place for potential research, but also a locale for testing and gathering ideas, and community building. Here I can observe various fan groups, their modes of interaction, and their responses to Dusty. For example, I may invite fans to send in a description of what Dusty has meant to them, to gather some ideas about how to design a study on her value and functions for different fan groups.
The Liberace Show. (May 29, 1969). ATV. (No other information available.)
This episode highlights several examples of Dusty’s interpretation of pop classics, e.g. “The Second Time Around,” as well as her participation in a comic sketch in which she is portrayed as less glamorous than Lassie. Carole Gibson (see above) cites this sort of self-effacing humor as something that attracts many fans to Dusty. It is also a fine example of how she might be finding expression through silence or speaking through code or camp with Liberace, and to contemplate how gay audiences, past and present, might read her performance.
Marcic, D. (2002). Respect: Women and popular music. New York: Texere.
Shows how the development of American women’s popular music over the 20th century reflected the growing independence of women.
Middleton, R. (1990). Studying popular music. Milton Keynes: Open UP.
Minnich, E. K. (2004). Transforming Knowledge. 2nd ed. Temple University Press.
Moss, P.A. (2005, January/February). Toward ‘epistemic reflexivity’ in educational research: A response to Scientific research in education. Teachers College Record, 107(1), 19-29.
Moss’ article references sociologist Bourdieu who has an alternate conception of “generalizability” in research. He focuses on specific cases, each of which “contributes to the evidence-based theoretical model by suggesting hypotheses that can be examined anew in the social context of the new case both through subsequent empirical study and by providing readers with ‘the foundation of a self analysis.’” (cited on p. 24) If I understand this idea, it explains how, for example, I could study individual fans in order to form hypotheses about fan groups which I could test empirically, an approach that makes sense to me.
O’Brien, L. (1989). Dusty. London: Omnibus Press.
Early and influential biography of Springfield; updated edition also available.
O’Brien, L. (2004). She Bop II: The definitive history of women in rock, pop and soul.
3rd Rep ed. Bayou Press Series. Continuum International Publishing Group;
Oram, A. and Turnbull. A. (2001). The lesbian history sourcebook: Love and sex between women in Britain from 1780 to 1970. London: Routledge.
Patrick, A. (2001). Defiantly Dusty: A (re)figuring of ‘feminine excess.’ Feminist Media Studies, 1, 361-378.
This is the most influential and important piece of critical analysis I have read this semester. A response in part to Smith’s essay (see below), Patrick exposes the sexism and privilege of a purely queer studies approach to Springfield. Patrick also critiques second wave feminism’s rejection of Springfield and offers an alternate feminist reading, which, for example, discusses how female fans value of the cross-racial sisterhood of Dusty and black performers. She also summarizes how the “feminine excess’ of Dusty and other soul performers and fans can be interpreted through a feminist lens. This article gives me much to consider in comparing and contrasting fan groups of Springfield’s, and more importantly, encourages me to design a study giving voice to her female and especially lesbian fans who have been relatively neglected and sometimes dismissed as déclassé or unhip.
Randall, A. J. (2005). Dusty Springfield and the Motown invasion. Institute for Studies in American Music, 35, 1-4. Retrieved February 18, 2006, from http://depthome.brooklyn.cuny.edu/isam/NewsletF05/RandallF05.htm
In this article, Randall, the author of an upcoming book on Dusty’s music, heralds Springfield’s promotion of Detroit in London. According to Randall, “the images of [The] Sounds of Motown embodied a rejection of racism and apartheid for an international audience” (p. 2) and was “undoubtedly as important as the endlessly analyzed social phenomena associated with the Beatles and the British Invasion” (p. 3).
This article gives concrete evidence of how Dusty might serve as a progressive hero to her fans.
Pichaske, D. R. (1989). A generation in motion : popular music and culture in the sixties. Granite Falls, Minnesota: Ellis Books.
Reader, Ian and Tony Walter, eds. (1993). Pilgrimage in popular culture. London: Macmillan.
Reeves, M. and Bego. M (1994). Dancing in the streets: Confessions of a Motown diva. Hyperion.
Contemporary and friend of Dusty’s, who writes about her in this book. Dusty promoted her music in UK. She and Martha were each other’s fans.
Sandvoss, C. (2005). Fans: The mirror of consumption. Cambridge, UK: Polity Press.
This book offers a review of fan studies and recommends areas for further research in areas such as fandom and power, fandom and psychoanalysis, fan texts, and fandom as extension of self. Like many current cultural studies scholars, Sandvoss is from The United Kingdom.
Scott, L. M. (2005). Fresh lipstick: Redressing fashion and feminism. New York: Palgrave.
Sedgwick, E. K. (1991). Epistemology of the closet. Reprint ed. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Influential work by prominent early theorist of queer studies.
Shaw, S. (2006). (Producer and Director). Dusty Springfield. The South Bank Show.
Broadcast on ITV1, UK. April 9, 2006.
This most recent documentary of Dusty Springfield takes a less respectful look at the singer, but brings up issues not covered since Valentine & Wickham’s biography (see below)—Dusty’s violent relationships, mental instability, and cutting. Among those interviewed for the first time are a childhood friend, singer and ex Carole Pope (who has penned her own autotrashography, Antidiva), Billie Jean King, the Barbie Twins (models who claim that Dusty ran off with their mother), and Camille Paglia who, in a predictable post-feminist turn, compares Dusty’s voice to that of a castrato. Lee Everett, the friendly healer featured in Dusty Definitely (see Cross above), weighs in here with the ubiquitous Vicki Wickham on Dusty’s penchant for self-destruction, even describing how she rammed her head against a wall. The sensationalism here is redeemed in part by full-length versions of Dusty’s live performances not seen elsewhere.
Fans’ responses to this work would tell me something about how they view Dusty—for example—as a dramatic diva or a troubled woman in need of protection and understanding. This show also illustrates how Dusty is currently being positioned to be consumed by the public, in a way that overshadows her music, something that distresses many of her fans.
Shaw, S.M. and Lee, J. (2007). Women’s voices, feminist visions: Classic and contemporary readings. 3rd ed. Boston: McGraw Hill.
This women’s studies textbook is an excellent resource for an overview of feminist analysis of issues like oppression, classism, racism, sexism, and heterosexism, as well as concepts like the social construction of norms, mythical norms, and heteronormativity.
You don’t have to say you love me: The camp masquerades of Dusty Springfield. In P.J. Smith (Ed.), The queer sixties (pp. 105-126). New York: Routledge.
Smith’s essay is a classic queer theory approach to Dusty. Her thesis is that “Dusty Springfield paradoxically expressed and disguised her own unspeakable queerness through an elaborate camp masquerade that metaphorically and artistically transformed a nice white girl into a black woman and a femme gay man” and that “her amalgam of fictive identities and facades grew in complexity and extremity over time and in direct proportion with rumor, innuendo, and consequent public pressure regarding her sexual ‘inclinations’” (p. 106). Smith has little sense of the sociocultural context of lesbian life in London in the 1960’s in which Dusty participated, buys the line that Springfield has a larger fan base among gay men than lesbians, and does not explore significant differences in how they might relate to the star, as does Patrick (see above).
Smith relies heavily at times on biographer Lucy O’Brien’s readings of Dusty, and O’Brien theorizes that the harassment Dusty endured from a homophobic music industry and press led to her emotional crises and lack of commercial success after the 1960’s. Smith also concedes that Dusty’s refusal to stay out once she came out—her refusal to use the word gay, lesbian, or bisexual to refer to herself later in life—was a form of self-protection “of one who has paid cruel and overwhelming dues for unsanctioned desires” (p. 122). These could certainly be explored as motives for Dusty’s silence as well as insights into gay and straight fans’ responses to Dusty over the years.
Spector, R. with Waldron, V. (2004). Be My Baby: How I Survived Mascara, Miniskirts, and Madness, or My Life as a Fabulous Ronette. Updated with new material. New York: Onyx-Penguin.
Includes Spector’s reminiscences about performing at The Brooklyn Fox with Dusty and Dusty’s habit of releasing her frustration by throwing plates.
Strong, M. (1998). A Bright Red Scream: Self-Mutilation and the Language of Pain. New York: Viking.
I read this book because I wanted to begin to understand self-mutilation. What is the profile of the cutter? What are her motivations? What is she trying to express through these actions? Reading the book challenged me to confront and visualize Dusty’s self destructive practices. I searched for correspondences between the women described in the text and Dusty, and although I could not draw definitive conclusions, the book did offer some support for my hypothesis that Dusty was a victim of childhood trauma.
Sprague, J. (2005). Feminist methodologies for critical researchers: Bridging differences. Alta Mira Press.
Steward, S. and Garratt, S. (1984). Signed, sealed, and delivered : true life stories of women in pop. Boston : South End Press.
Thornham, S. (2000). Feminist theory and cultural studies. Chapter 5: Ethnographic turns.
London: Arnold-Hodder Headline Group.
Chapter 5 of Thornham’s book traces the history of feminist ethnographic studies. Her survey of feminist audience research begins with Dorothy Hobson’s 1982 study of soap opera viewers which found “their ‘readings’ were made through reference to their own experiences and understandings as women. For this female audience . . . soap opera viewing became a space within which to negotiate their own subjectivities and positioning as women” (p. 104). This suggests a way that female fans may have responded to Dusty’s girl group music. The study of romance fiction readers conducted by Jane Radway in 1984 showed how they viewed reading these books as an act of independence from their daily routines and that they identified with what they viewed as “the independence and assertiveness of the romance heroine” (p. 106) , and felt stronger because of that. A similar concept is seen in Wolf’s discussion of fan identification (see below and preceding paper) which also applies to Dusty.
Thornham next reviews Ien Ang’s research, which begins with Pierre Bourdieu’s concept of a cultural economy. Middle-class culture is studied with distance by intellectuals, in an attempt to distinguish themselves from the “emotional responses of the ‘vulgar’” classes (p. 108). Ang appropriates Bourdieu’s genderless analysis to argue that viewers who enjoy mass culture are feminized, “whilst ‘real’, ‘authentic’, ‘high’, culture, with its accompanying aesthetic, moral and social judgments, is seen as the province of men” (p. 108) Ang’s analysis of the “structure of feeling”—its “intensity and excess” (p. 108) defines “women’s pleasure . . . [as] the pleasure of recognition” (p. 109), but because the soap opera does not offer the joyful resolution of a romance novel, “[t]he pleasures it offers, therefore, are masochistic scenarios indulging feelings of fatalism and passivity” (p. 109).
Ang’s work reinforces other feminist analyses of how that which is devalued is viewed as feminine and that which is valued is seen as male. Her view of women seeking masochistic pleasure from soap opera texts suggests one way to interpret both the consumers of Dusty’s ballads and Dusty herself, as the messenger of these themes. However, in these terms, the agency of both the fans and their object of affection is diminished. Their choices must be viewed in the sociocultural contexts of what was available to them. An example of this can be seen in Mary Ellen Brown’s 1994 research (based on Hall and Morley’s work); “she argues that soap operas are hegemonic texts, designed to reinforce ‘dominant conceptualizations of women,’ but caught up nevertheless ideological struggle, as their female audiences appropriate them to ‘critique these same values’” (p. 113). These fans defy conventional values and claim their popular television shows as their own subversive form of cultural capital. Furthermore, Brown focuses on what Fish (1987) terms the “tertiary text,” in this case when fans discuss their own lives in comparison to what they have viewed on television.
Thornham also discusses how Skeggs’ study uses other ideas of Boudrieu’s to analyze working class women. Skeggs found “femininity operates as a form of cultural capital, but in a society where masculinity and whiteness are the valued (and normalized) forms of cultural capital, femininity brings little social, political or economic worth” (p. 120). To embrace a feminine identity would, then “signif[y] powerlessness and lack of agency” (p. 121), but “its performance signals respectability; to ‘pass’ as feminine—is to refuse a classification (‘working class’) which would position the women as outside the norms of respectability—as ‘vulgar, tarty, pathological and without value’” (p. 121). Skeggs says these woman want to be taken seriously in their passing “because it speaks from a position of powerlessness and insecurity”; theirs is “a desire not to be shamed but to be legitimized” (p. 121). These ideas relate to the potential study of Dusty Springfield’s expressiveness in several ways. Was Dusty turning this value system on its head by rejecting a bourgeois style and remaking herself in what her some of previous convent school classmates deemed “very tarty” (cited in Patrick, p. 364). But in doing so, was she also seeking the legitimacy that the working class women Skeggs’ studied were? Or was she riding the line between the standards of femininity of the two classes or even creating a new pop standard of exotic and hip feminine beauty in the mid-sixties? All of these questions, of course, are especially relevant to how her female fans of the 1960’s related to her.
Tucker, S. (2002). When subjects don’t come out. In S. Fuller & L. Whitesell (Eds.)
Queer episodes in music and modern identity. (pp. 293-310). Urbana: University of Illinois Press.
In this fascinating article, the researcher of presumably lesbian musicians from the 1930’s and 1940’s, poses questions about what it means when research subjects don’t come out of the cloest. She speculates on the reasons they remain closeted and, at times, even insist upon their heterosexuality; she reminds us that coming out is a process over time with many variations and that some lesbians may not come out even to themselves; and she questions the interviewer’s need for her subjects to come out. This reminds me that the needs of the scholar do not always correspond with those of the subject of study, and that our own motivations should be questioned along with theirs.
Valentine, P. & Wickham. V. (2002). Dancing with Demons: The Authorised Biography of Dusty Springfield. New York: St. Martin’s Griffin.
Dancing with Demons is a true trashography, and not coincidentally the book that lured me into the vortex of Dusty fandom. Obviously written for quick profit after Springfield’s death, this biography, the “authorization” of which is contested, is controversial among fans who criticize the authors for tastelessly revealing so much of Dusty’s private life. It is wrong on many details, but correct on most essential facts about Springfield’s violent relationships, multiple hospitalizations, alcohol and drug use, etc. What it lacks is any real insight into or analysis of Dusty’s behavior, especially disappointing given that Wickham positions herself as Dusty’s lifelong friend. Nonetheless the book presents many priceless anecdotes that give a window into the daily life of Dusty, something unavailable in most other works.
Walker, V.S.. (2005, January/February). After methods, then what? A researcher’s response to the report of the National Research Council. Teachers College Record, 107(1), 30-37.
Walker’s research into school desegregation contests the traditional position that the researcher should not be a presence in the findings. Although one must be “intentional” in methodology in order to be as objective as possible, she argues that absenting the researcher from the community being researched may “ignore the ‘truth’ that may lie in communities and in people” (Walker, 2005, p. 34). I could imagine encountering similar challenges if researching Dusty fans on Let’s Talk Dusty! (see above); these people are known to me and I have various and complicated relationships with many of them. Walker (2005) also raises the question about the honesty of subjects. Having met or corresponded with a number of people close to Dusty, I can only say this is a sensitive and complicated matter.
Walters, S.D. (2005). From here to queer: Radical feminism, postmodernism, and the lesbian menace. In I. Morland and A. Wilcox (Eds.). Queer Theory (pp. 6-21). New York: Palgrave.
Walters shows how lesbian feminists have become the ‘other’ against which queer theorists have rebelled, how lesbians have been delegitimized in queer theory to the extent that the ideal queer woman models gay male sexual behavior. “Do we really want to relinquish a critique of male identification?” she asks (p. 16). She argues against how queer theory dismisses the politics of gender by claiming it is all performative, and that in dismissing the importance of gender, the importance of women is dismissed as well. She notes that in queer theory, male is the default gender and the homosexual is typically viewed as male; therefore, queer cannot be understood as gender neutral, as queer theorists claim.
Although Walters concedes that some problems with second wave lesbian feminism needed to be addressed, she reasons that the narrative of the sexless humorless policing dyke of the 1970s is a narrative like any other, and as such, bears deconstructing. Finally, she challenges the silliness and impracticability of the “(theoretical) obsession with the question of whether to call oneself a lesbian” (p. 19).
Walters article illustrates, as have others I have read, that queer theory is a field dominated by inquiry into male texts and values, with the lesbian interest in male queerness unreciprocated. Like other sources it suggests that a lesbian feminist approach to decoding Dusty and her fans is a fertile field of scholarship.
White, M. and Schwoch, J. (2006). (Eds.) Questions of method in cultural studies. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing.
This recent purchase could prove an invaluable resource as it presents essays from scholars in the humanities and social sciences to discuss the theory and practice of their research, including what approaches are privileged or attacked within various disciplines.
Whiteley, S. ed. (1998). Sexing the groove: Popular music and gender. London: Routledge.
Whiteley, Shelia. (2000). Women in popular music: Sexuality, identity, and subjectivity. London: Routledge.
Wolf, S. (2002). A problem like Maria: Gender and sexuality in the American musical. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press.
The preface and introduction of Wolf’s text explains how she analyzes traditional 1950’s and 1960’s musicals from a lesbian feminist perspective, something discussed at length in the paper preceding this bibliography. Wolf’s lesbian reading of straight performers/performances highlights the necessity of lesbian readings of Dusty as a lesbian performer, even while she played the straight role in her public life and on stage during the height of her career. Along with Patrick, Wolf is one of the few researchers interested in the lesbian audience. I also appreciate the enthusiasm and joy she brings to her work, which I attribute to her status as a fan as well as a scholar.
Your comments and suggestions are most welcome; please email: allherfaces@dustyspringfield.info
