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Bach, Beethoven, Bodyslams

A music student's doctoral project is inspired by his love of pro wrestling

Barbeque Man, Jr makes his grand entrance. Photo by Gray Swartzel
Barbeque Man, Jr makes his grand entrance. Photo by Gray Swartzel

Paul Swartzel has a deep appreciation of classical music. For this, he has Ric Flair to thank.

A doctoral student in Duke's music department, Swartzel came to classical music early in life, but not because his parents were musicians who played Beethoven on the family turntable. His light bulb went on over the course of so many Saturday mornings watching professional wrestling, the theatrical, testosterone-laced soap operas that rose to national prominence in the 1980s.

Wrestlers have larger-than-life personas, and many use classical music as part of their grand ring entrances. One of the most recognizable was the golden-haired, perma-tanned Flair, who strutted to the ring in flowery, ornate robes as "Also Sprach Zarathustra," a soaring classical composition by Richard Strauss, blared.

"That was my childhood," Swartzel says. "My connection to classical music is not based on the measured voices on classical radio stations. Music, for me, was a wild, exaggerated home for escapism."

So to write the original piece of music needed to complete his doctorate, Swartzel set out to create something that speaks both to his North Carolina upbringing and love of wrestling. The result is "Barbeque Man Unleashed," a 24-minute contemporary composition that provides the soundtrack to a movie he and his brother, Gray, created using real wrestling action figures he collected as a child. The subtitled tale tells the story of Swartzel's fictional hero -- Barbeque Man, Jr., a country boy from Tobaccoville, N.C. -- where Swartzel's parents are from -- and the anti-hero, Baron Banks Gentry, a Charlotte blueblood whose signature move is called "The Foreclosure."

Spoiler alert: The good guy prevails.

The video is coupled with a 40-page research paper analyzing the history of music in professional wrestling. The project is clearly a labor of love.

"I really wanted to write something funny that also reflected the changes in wrestling over the years," says Swartzel, who grew up in Raleigh and received his bachelor's degree in music from UNC-Chapel Hill. "My piece isn't exactly geared for the art music crowd; some of it is more of a Hollywood sound."

Originally written as a piano concerto to be performed live, the project changed along the way as Swartzel added everything from choir voices to heavy metal guitars and drums. Too complex to be performed by a traditional symphony, the piece was created with virtual instrument software, which produces music made to order.

Swartzel likes all sorts of music and is equally comfortable discussing piano etudes and 1980s rap music. The wrestling project speaks to Swartzel's personality and eclectic breadth of musical interests, says his adviser, Stephen Jaffe.

"There are moments of this that are low-brow satire, and there are also moments of high-modernist music," says Jaffe, a composer on Duke's music faculty. "He's extremely knowledgeable not only in the whole field of contemporary but also in popular culture."

The project illustrates the Duke music department's desire that students push boundaries, Jaffe adds.

"While they could, students don't just mash things up thoughtlessly," Jaffe says. "They fuse stylistic influences in ways that are fresh. This kind of exploration is widespread among our students and frequently produces unique and unexpected creativity."

Swartzel knows his project won't appeal to everyone. But it matters to him.

"I picked wrestling as a topic because it's something I have consistently enjoyed throughout my life," he says.