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Like a Prayer

Albums: Like a Prayer (1989), The Immaculate Collection (1990), I’m Going to Tell You a Secret (2005), Celebration (2009)
Songwriters/producers: Madonna/Patrick Leonard

How strange that a work as immense as Like a Prayer begins with guitar by none other than Prince, the consummate pop artist - and almost immediately, the sound of a door slamming shut. In that single second of sound lies a symbolism that is both entirely fitting - Madonna enclosing herself in stridently spiritual feelings, discarding the past - and entirely unsuitable - for surely art this distinctive does nothing but open metaphorical doors? Like a Prayer is a near-six minutes of reconciled contradictions; where most artists say one thing and mean it, Madonna speaks with a myriad number of connotations - each one completely intentional, completely true.

Essentially, the most resonant, transcendent moments in Madonna’s career have been where her music, lyrics, video, image and public perception align in a way that allows her to, for a brief point in time, embody the concept of the song or album itself. Though their musical brilliance is undeniable, they are not so much songs as cultural experiences inseparable from the visual and emotional associations they carry.

Where Like a Virgin both flouted and winked at Madonna’s Catholic roots, Like a Prayer is its inverse - the reverent atmosphere feels like the more mature sacred to Like a Virgin’s playful profane. But the truth lies in between; the religious context allows Madonna to be more subversive than ever before, elevating the romantic sexual experience to that of a spiritual epiphany. On the surface, some would see it as her repenting at confession, disowning her past behaviour, but if anything, Like a Prayer in fact justifies her sexuality. This process of unification is really what she’d been doing all along; with the Virgin Mary’s name reclaimed by the sex symbol of a whole generation, perhaps one of her feminist aims was to shatter the Madonna-whore complex at the heart of the religious patriarchy?

The sheer density of Like a Prayer’s lyrics is stunning - Madonna uses the brevity of pop lyrics to great effect by fitting so many associations into each phrase. Lines like “When you call my name, it’s like a little prayer” refer to the Catholic reverence of her namesake like literally no other artist could, and “I’m down on my knees, I wanna take you there” - both a position of prayer and a suggestion that she wants to give as much as she receives - truly make the sacred and the profane inseparable. At the song’s core is the concept of “la petite mort” - French for “the little death”, a reference to the post-orgasmic state of bliss that borders on the transcendent. One theory goes that in that state of creation, removed from the worldly and material, such pleasure is where we are closest to God - similarly to the idea of prayer as conference with God. My interpretation of Like a Prayer is essentially that Madonna views love, taken to its most intimate point, as an experience so natural and overwhelming it borders on evangelizing. Make of it what you will.

And I’ve barely touched on the music, which is as conflicting and brilliant as every other aspect. Despite having arguably the single best use of a gospel choir in all of popular music, theirs is a Protestant form of expression, not Catholic - but it’s also Madonna being as racially and musically inclusive as ever to the point of stepping out of the vocal spotlight for much of the song. The atmosphere, as established by Prince’s (uncredited) guitar, Guy Pratt’s jumpy bass and in particular the massive choir and church organ is truly unique - few songs have ever managed to be both funky and expansively epic. Patrick Leonard is arguably Madonna’s most consistent collaborator, and on Like a Prayer, their immense ambition pays off. To quote Sal Cinquemani of Slant Magazine, “‘Like a Prayer’ climbs to heights like no other pop song before it—or after.”

Controversy: the first sign of a cultural event. Madonna received $5 million for her endorsement of Pepsi - firstly appearing in the “Make a Wish” commercial and extending to the company’s sponsorship of her next tour. But upon seeing Like a Prayer’s full music video, Pepsi executives pulled the advertisement, attempting to remove their brand’s association with the “inevitable” of outrage they knew would result. It was only ever aired twice, which is a shame - for what now seems like an excellent, surprisingly uncontrived bit of cross-promotion would then have been utterly mind-blowing, considering it was the song’s world debut. Indeed, the images contrasting Madonna at the height of her success with a younger, dreamy version of herself are genuinely touching. Though nowhere near enough people saw the ad for it to make an imprint on the public consciousness, any publicity was good publicity. Madonna probably gained more from its cancellation, if anything - she kept the $5 million advance, and historically, the song is undiluted by any commerciality, having lost any associations with Pepsi in the eyes of the public.

(This excellent 1992 article runs through the series of events as only one who lived through them could.)

MTV / YouTube

And what a video it turned out to be. In the present day, we’re too far removed to feel the full force of the reactions - but in 1989, many viewed it as completely sacrilegious in both its adoption and subversion of Catholic imagery. As usual, this was the result of misinterpretation, a superficial reaction to the images and not their intended meaning. But in a way, it’s hard to blame the conservative outcry - though the video is stunning on a purely visual level, the out-of-order narrative it presents requires multiple viewings to understand, though it is all the more rewarding for it. Madonna herself explains the chronological order of events best:

“A girl on the street witnesses an assault on a young woman. Afraid to get involved because she might get hurt, she is frozen in fear. A black man walking down the street also sees the incident and decides to help to woman. But just then, the police arrive and arrest him. As they take him away, she looks up and sees one of the gang members who assaulted the girl. He gives her a look that says she’ll be dead if she tells. The girl runs, not knowing where to go, until she sees a church. She goes in and sees a saint in a cage who looks very much like the black man on the street, and says a prayer to help her make the right decision. He seems to be crying, but she is not sure. She lies down on a pew and falls into a dream in which she begins to tumble in space with no one to break her fall. Suddenly she is caught by [an African American woman] who represents earth and emotional strength and who tosses her back up and tells her to do the right thing. Still dreaming, she returns to the saint, and her religions and erotic feelings begin to stir. The saint becomes a man. She picks up a knife and cuts her hands. That’s the guilt in Catholicism that if you do something that feels good you will be punished. As the choir sings, she reaches an orgasmic crescendo of sexual fulfillment intertwined with her love of God. She knows that nothing’s going to happen to her if she does what she believes is right. She wakes up, goes to the jail, tells the police the man is innocent, and he is freed. Then everybody takes a bow as if to say we all play a part in this little scenario.”
- Madonna (via a brilliant in-depth essay by Shmoop)

What’s astonishing is that the video manages to add more layers of meaning to the song, turning it into something of a parable as it likens the black man, punished for giving assistance, to a saint. Though he was in fact meant to be Saint Martin de Porres, Madonna and director Mary Lambert would have been well aware that his character would be interpreted as a black Christ, with the outrage towards that suggestion highlighting a modern racial inequality. With the breathtaking scene of a fierce-looking Madonna dancing in a field of burning crosses, it’s a little harder to say - perhaps an attempt to reclaim traditionally racist imagery? And finally, Madonna’s act of attesting to his innocence borders on the orgasmically rewarding; her stigmata a possible indication that she is doing as Jesus would, and will be punished for it (not in the video, but for spreading its message in real life).

For the images indelibly burned into the collective cultural consciousness; for the power of its message - for even having a message; and for the sheer fervor of the public response, Like a Prayer has my vote for the greatest music video of all time.

48 notes POSTED Sunday November 1st