Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Ethnomusicology Presentation












































You Are Mine:
 

Sam's Interview (Snippet):
 

Monday, November 24, 2008

Critical Review: Hamm

In his article, Hamm criticizes Paul Simon for taking advantage of the musical culture of South Africa without taking a stance against the apartheid or in some way contributing to the liberation movement.  However, in making this criticism, Hamm blurs the line between criticizing Paul Simon and criticizing the culture that his album represents.  He quotes a complaint that Graceland perpetuates a style where African music provides the rhythm complexity and European tradition provides the melodic interest.  However, is it really Paul Simon's fault that this is the culture he is a product of?  The relationship between culture and art is complex; culture is of course a product of art, but art is also a product of culture.  I am not saying that this makes it okay, per se, but rather that the more interesting study here is on the culture that values the juxtaposition of African rhythm and European melody, rather than the art that caters to it.  Most of all, though, I think that it is a completely different issue from Paul Simon's political stance, and the two should not be confused.  

The argument against the lack of explicit political content in Graceland seeks the moral high ground through the claim that Paul Simon engages in a commensal relationship with South African musical culture.  However, whether he should have done something to support the liberation movement is different from whether or not he had a responsibility to.  On one level, whenever there is injustice, it is everyone's duty not to stand aside.  However, the criticism of Graceland clearly implies that his appropriation of South African culture in some way indebted him in a way that required him to support the liberation movement.  

One argument is simply that if you get involved at all with South African culture, you are too close to an injustice to stand aside.  However, this is still different from the issue of whether he owes them anything.  He used their culture, surely he is in their debt.  However, I am not so sure that this is true.  Who does the culture belong to?  Does it belong to the collective group of South Africans?  Or does it belong to each individual within that culture?  If the former, than all that is required is for him to contribute to the culture, not the people.  If the later, than he could never hope to repay each individual, and in any case, as long as he treated the musicians fairly, he has treated the tradition bearers and owners of the culture appropriately, for they have as much claim to own and share it as any other individual.  The final argument against Graceland is that even though he might not have owed anything, Graceland provided an opportunity to speak out against injustice on a global front.  Having the opportunity to reach such a large audience with such a meaningful message, Paul Simon should have taken it because him speaking out in this instance would be far more consequential than anyone else speaking out in the circumstance surrounding their voice.  This I think is the most interesting and strongest argument against Graceland.  One the one hand, relinquishing this opportunity is giving up a chance to make the world a better place.  On the other hand, if he felt it would mean a tarnishing in the quality of the art, did he not have a responsibility to improve the world by making the best piece of art possible?  

Challenge Question: Do artists have a responsibility to be socially conscious, or do they just have a responsibility to make the best art they can?  If they try to strike a balance, and the balance requires even the slightest diminishment in the quality of the art, is it worth it?  

Follow up question: Would the world really be a better place if Mozart had fed the homeless of Salzburg instead of writing his operas?

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Response to Feedback

Response to Drew's response to my response to Drew's question.  (whew.)

Thanks for the detailed response; it raises some excellent points about what I wrote. I think a great deal of the divergence in our interpretations of the word authentic stems from the fact that I was addressing a composition, and you are addressing the performance of a composition. I think there is a very interesting philosophical stance beneath your assertions of the value of authenticity.

There are generally two extremes in the creation of a performance: do it exactly as the composer intended, or make it as “good” as possible. The word “good” is problematic, for it involves taste, which is by no means easily measurable. For example, while the production of Carmen set in New Orleans was certainly not what the composer intended, the director clearly thought that the setting would bring a valuable addition to the opera. As it so happens, pretty much everyone else disagreed. Being faithful to the composer might be safer, but it is in no way easier. Most productions of any sort—including your cover of Pink Floyd—tend to strike a comfortable balance in between. Do right by the original, but let them know they aren’t listening to a recording. I think that your singer’s decision to mimic Dave Gilmour showed that you were striving for artistry above the level of a high school band covering Pink Floyd—of which there are many poor examples (from your description of the audience’s reaction, I can tell you weren’t one of them).

Still, there is an interesting point to be made. Is mimicking the original the best way to do right by the composer, or would it be, in practice, more respectful to simply make the only ideal one of excellence? As I already said, most people tend to strike a balance between the two. In the case of Don Giovanni, keep most of the orchestration the same, but don’t worry about finding a clarinet in a, just use the regular b flat. Or when covering New York State of Mind, change the name of the city to whatever town you happen to be in. In my mind, the only real problem arises when someone wants to do something different, but feels they can’t out of an obligation to the composer. It’s hard to pin this sort of thing down, because it’s difficult to know everything about the creative process just by the performance, but in my experience productions that endured this sort of creative limitation tend to feel hollow and—dare I say—inauthentic. When you hear people reading Shakespeare exactly how they think people would have when it was written, it doesn’t feel authentic, it feels boring. You don’t have to change any of the words, you don’t even have to focus on sounding not old, you just can’t try to be authentic.

These things tend to by cyclical, in the 70’s, period instruments and performances were extremely popular, and then in the 80’s they fell out of favor. Now, it looks as though they are making a comeback, though not to the level of before.

Striving for authenticity can be a creative goal, and I suppose it can even be liberating to some people. Value judgments bring taste into the discussion, and thus bias. I think it’s probably clear at this point that I am biased towards not restraining yourself with exact replication for a number of reasons, but I recognize that this is my taste. I would rather see a “good” performance than a “right” performance, and I of course realize that the two are not mutually exclusive. My opinion, wrought from years performing/getting others to perform/composing music, is just that being creative is hard enough without limitations that hinder rather than help. Again, this is a matter of preference, as the limitations that strangle me could inspire others.

There is also the issue of an impossible goal; for we can only get close to complete authenticity, we cannot ever reach it. For example, as authentic as your performance of Pink Floyd is, it is not as authentic as a performance by the band itself. This is a dangerous road to go down, because we can even look at a performance by the band itself and say it is not authentic—this was a huge issue for Bob Dylan when he switched to electric guitar. As soon as a particular performance is labeled as authentic, subsequent performances can only imitate the ideal. This is especially an issue with modern music, for a studio recording can often become the only truly “authentic” performance, creating an even more impossible standard. Would we even want to listen to a concert that sounds exactly like the CD? As Jimi Hendrix famously said, if you want to hear the recording, go home and listen to it. Most people strike an instinctual balance in their performance by just doing what feels right, and I think this is the best way to go. On the notion of authenticity, however, I have to agree with Jimi—if you want to listen to an authentic performance of Don Giovanni, go home and stare at the score.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Response to Challenge Question Response

Response to Mike's response

I really enjoyed reading this response. Your point about the “traveling ethnomusicologist” perpetuating a pre-existing order is complex and interesting. I think that you are right, and the idea of a western traveler being exposed to a new culture pre-disposes us to think of that culture as an “other.” However, the question I have in response is whether or not that causes the reader to adopt a western bias—in other words, is emphasizing the non-western-ness of a culture the same as emphasizing the western-ness of the ethnomusicologist? I think it’s a very subtle facet of the argument to which the length of the challenge question wasn’t conducive to fully addressing.

I also liked very much the way you brought in the concept of technology to help trace the progression of ethnomusicology from being an outsider form to an insider form. I agree with your statements, and I think that it will be interesting to see if your predictions about the level playing field take effect.

Your statements about the benefits of insider ethnomusicology were also very interesting, and I enjoyed your discussion on how it exemplified the difficulties of a post-colonial relationship. However, I am not sure if I agree that there are fewer ethical dilemmas than with outsider ethnomusicology. I certainly agree that the ethical dilemmas are different, but insider bias is just as likely as outsider bias to give a distorted view of the culture—do the insider ethnomusicologists not have an equal responsibility to the scholarly discipline as they do to their culture?

Overall, I thought this was a great challenge response. I think you addressed the question very thoroughly and elegantly, and I very much enjoyed reading it.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Questions for Miller 2004

How did you go about dealing with the tension created between the written and oral aspects of Sacred Harp tradition?  I would assume this tension is always present, but it seems that the privileged status and importance of the song book makes it especially important in this context.  Was it difficult to try and represent the performance in a visual medium given the two contrasting facets of the tradition?

What makes one singer higher status than another?  In many singing cultures, skill is an important ranking factor.  However, one of the things Sacred Harp singers pride themselves upon is their openness to singers of all experience levels and natural ability.  While experience can be gained, it seems as though Sacred Harp leadership would be dependent on things important to its culture, rather than other cultures--range, for example, is less important, given that the songs are all transposable.  So what things do make one person a higher ranking singer than another?  

Discussion Question:
This article described how a group of singers revise the book that then becomes the standard for the entire community.  Does this republican form of tradition-editing stifle the natural ability of a culture to progress at its own rate, or is this just the method of this culture progressing naturally?

Challenge Question Response

Question:
1) This year we have discussed at length the 'invention of tradition.' Recently we have introduced the related topic of authenticity. Does complete authenticity imply that tradition is no longer being 'invented'. Is this what our goal is when we strive for authenticity? What is the significance of true authenticity being impossible? What would the implications be if it was possible?

Response:
Before beginning to answer this question, I must attempt to clarify two key points. First, who the “we” is that is “striving for complete authenticity.” Second, I must clarify the definition of “complete authenticity.” There are two possibilities—first, that “we” are insiders of the culture and trying to authentically create it; second, that we are outsiders/ethnomusicologists, and trying to authentically represent it. Due to the length limiting my response to a single interpretation, and the inclusion of the concept of “invention of tradition,” I shall focus on the first interpretation.

The trouble with calling a piece of music authentic is that the criteria are often only crystallized after the style in question is no longer the vernacular form. Indeed, the style in question more often than not does not define these pieces as authentic—rather, these authentic pieces define the style. For example, Beethoven’s sonatas do not conform to the “rules” of classical sonata writing—rather, the rules of classical sonata writing conform to Beethoven’s sonatas. Thus, the criteria of authenticity are fluid until the form is out of style. Perhaps in fifty years, they will teach the rules of writing pop songs in music theory classes. Now, however, even though we can trace tendencies and similarities, they are not rules. This may seem like a pedantic distinction, for these tendencies and similarities are the very things that eventually become rules, but in practice there is an important distinction. The affinities between pieces of the same genre result from the situations that gave birth to them. For example, a pop song typically lasts three minutes. This is not because this is a god-given rule, but rather because radios tend not to play songs longer than three minutes, given the attention span of the listening audience. For a very long time, radio exposure was a key element in the success of a pop song; therefore, songs tend to run three minutes. In fifty years, perhaps a three-minute length could be a rule, but at this time, it is not a rule, but rather a characteristic resulting from the situation under which the song is born. Similarly, Mozart’s piano sonatas were written for amateur players—had Beethoven not come along, simplicity of texture and ease of execution could be rules alongside those we study today.

The reason it is impossible to create a truly authentic piece of music in a post-authentic age (such as writing a classical sonata today) is that the situation that gave life to these rules no longer exists. We would be following the rules for their own sake, not because they have any innate purpose or artistic value. When someone composes to a set of rules, rather than as a response to the world they live in, they are composing inauthentic music. In this way, the only true way to be inauthentic is to try to be authentic. However, writing a piece to which authenticity can only be applied in the future—a pop song, for example—is perfectly authentic. In not trying to be authentic, and instead leaving that judgment up to future scholars, the artist ensures that their music is authentic, even if it is only judged as such in the future.  An interesting study is new composition of Sacred Harp tunes.  While they might seem on the surface to seem inauthentic because they restrict themselves to a musical vocabulary seen by many as outdated (no accidentals, for example) in reality, it is perfectly authentic.  This is because the reasons for the restriction--namely the shape note method--are still in place.  If they had switched to the system of notation standardized by western art music, yet still refrained from using accidentals just because, this would be inauthentic.  However, because the situation producing this type of music still exists today, not just a set of rules, the new music created is a viable part of tradition.  

A common objection is the hypothetical question of if someone who had never heard of Beethoven's music had written a piece sounding just like his Fifth, would it then be authentic, because they were not striving to imitate?  The answer is simply that this could never happen.  While this seems like it is just avoiding the issue rather than addressing it, this is not the case.  The likelihood of someone writing Beethoven's Fifth who was not Beethoven is the same as someone who does not speak a word of English writing Romeo and Juliet.  If we think of Beethoven's Fifth as a random collection of notes in the same way that Romeo and Juliet is a random collection of letters, it is impossible that by pure chance it would be recreated (for an interesting comparison regarding the famous one million monkeys recreating Shakespeare quote, see this excellent link, and consider that while Shakespeare had letters, punctation, and spaces, Beethoven had not just notes and rests but rhythmic durations of great variety to work with).  There is also the problem of musical fluency, for how would someone who was not familiar with western art music intelligently not just combine twelve tones together to form this piece of music, but indeed create a system of twelve tones identical to the language of Beethoven (before Bach, even western art music was only working in an eight tone system).  On the other hand, fluency with the musical vocabulary requires facility with everything that has come after Beethoven and has been influenced by him--even up to the Beatles.  Furthermore, Beethoven's Fifth is not just a random assembly of notes.  It is a distinct product of the situation of its birth.  Given that we have established (empirically by logic, mathematically by association if you care to check out the link) that even given the twelve notes it is impossible to randomly recreate his Fifth, we must ask is it possible for an intelligent, creative person to actively compose the Fifth.  We must answer no.  Our times our different, our creative requirements and impulses are different.  Beethoven wrote the Fifth to actively stretch the conventions of the Symphony, and to shock.  The things his society found shocking (for example, the fanfare at the beginning of the last movement) no longer shock us.  They have been conventionalized.  What composer would set himself a goal to write a piece that would shock an audience who died two-hundred years ago?  Were Beethoven to be alive today, even he would not write the Fifth.  No one today would write the Fifth, or indeed, anything like it, for no one today lives in a society that could produce the Fifth.  The only way to produce a similar piece would be to artificially recreate a past age, and thus apply rules that have no purpose.  This is what it means to be inauthentic.  Our own lives are too rich to spend time resurrecting the legends who trod the paths that brought us here.  

While striving for authenticity does stifle the re-invention of tradition (the very act of striving requiring a reliance on no longer fluid rules), the concept itself in no way prohibits it. Tradition can be authentically re-created, but re-invention implies an acceptance of change and progress. However, this only means that the new tradition must be authentic when held to different criteria from the old tradition. One must accept that while their new art might not be authentic according to the bounds of the static tradition, it will define the future conditions of a future old tradition, and as such, remain an integral aspect in the chain of tradition that forms culture.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Critical Review: Campbell

This reading deals primarily with the modernization of the Sacred Harp tradition.  The party in favor of modernization focused on two specific facets of the tradition: material and notation.  Specifically, inclusion of material from the gospel repertoire, and a shift from four symbols to seven symbols.  However, both of these changes brought about a great deal of controversy whenever they were attempted.  Whenever change to tradition is resisted, the rational is often that the tradition will be lost.  However, it is interesting to examine exactly what would have been lost by these changes.  The change from four to seven note heads would not have been a difficult change logistically, indeed, the eventual clarity it would provide would doubtlessly make up for the transition period.  This is, of course, only decisive so long as the battle is fought on purely practical grounds; as we know, this is not the case.  This means that the four shapes of the notes have more than musical meaning--they are somehow intertwined with the identity of Sacred Harp singing.  Perhaps it is the simplicity of having only four notes, the perceived fundamentality of resisting all but the most basic notation that gets tied up in the notion of Sacred Harp singing as a primal, basic art form.  These adjectives are not meant to degrade, but rather to associate Sacred Harp singing as a transformative process rather than a performative one.  There is not an audience in the traditional sense, it is the experience of being part of the process that is important, and thus a means of notation that can theoretically be understood by as many people as possible on the merits of its simplicity would be ideal.  In this way, something as simple has the difference between four and seven note head shapes can carry connotations of the very purpose of the culture.  

The issue of gospel music is interesting as well.  Gospel music is unarguably an American art-form, so the idea that it would tarnish the "Americanness" of Sacred Harp singing is not probable.  Neither is the notion that it is not congruent with the southern identity of Sacred Harp singing, for American Gospel music is southern in origin.  One possibility that I do not want to either personally refute or support is that the issue with Gospel music stems from the origins of Gospel as a means of communication among slaves, tarnishing the positive image of the south that Sacred Harp promotes.  

Whatever the reasons, the attempt at modernization for Sacred Harp singing is unique in that there are a few individuals attempting to pull a group of people who are both the audience and performers into facilitating the changes.  Generally, a performance culture has two identities--the identity the group has of itself, and the identity the audience has of the group.  This means that only one identity needs to be influenced to successfully reinvent the tradition to some degree--for example, in the Canadian folk band we studied earlier this year, a small group of performers attempt to affect the view that the public has of their tradition.  They do not need to convince a large group of performers to agree with the change, they only need to identify the shift in the public consciousness.  However, in the case of Sacred Harp, the group of performers is also the audience.  Does this mean that, in a way, those who were trying to "modernize" Sacred Harp singers were acting as outsiders attempting to modify the culture they were not a part of?

Discussion Question:
We have discussed at length the pros, cons, and ethical complexities of an outsider trying to preserve a culture they are not a part of.  What are the ethical concerns when an outsider tries to change a culture they are not a part of?  Is there any situation where this is acceptable, ethnomusicologist or not?

Monday, October 27, 2008

Critical Questions: Miller

Questions for the Ethnomusicologist:

When you began with ethnographic detail, did you think to yourself "hmm, what technique would be effective here" or did you just write what seemed natural without really intending to use this technique, and only noticed it upon reflection?  The larger question, in a sense, is to inquire into the distinction between actively using techniques to write and using techniques to label what you write.  

You mention on page two that you sing with the groups that you study.  I also know from the strategically placed flyers around Brown's campus that you actively bring Sacred Harp singing to the Brown community.  Do you feel that at some point, you became an insider to the culture (alternatively, was there a point where you weren't)?  Do you think this has affected your research in a significant way?  Do you you promote Sacred Harp singing at Brown because you enjoy it, or because you feel it is your responsibility to in some sense preserve the culture (though, from reading the article, it doesn't really seem as though this tradition is in any immediate danger)?

Discussion question
"Like much rural Southern music, Sacred Harp singing has long been marked as explicitly and indigenously American" (p. 14).  American culture is relatively young, when compared to other world cultures.  Additionally, America is a country of immigrants; arguably, the only truly "native" culture with historical roots in this country is that of Native Americans.  Indeed, during the colonial times to which this music traces its roots, the individuals practicing it could very likely have considered themselves British citizens.  What does it mean to have an "American" tradition/culture when so much of our culture is imported?  Given that our national identity is often one of the "melting pot" (though I do understand that this term is no longer fashionable), would an American tradition embrace the notion of imported culture, or define itself by a rejection of the imported?

Challenge Questions

1) Many of the ethnomusicologists we have studied raise the issue of bias and how it affects their work.  Imagine that you are comparing two hypothetical sets of field-notes--one by yourself, in a culture in which you consider yourself to be an insider, and one by a Martian studying that same culture as a theoretical outsider.  How do  you think they would be the same?  How how do you think they would be different?  Address in the manner of your choosing, although the norm seems to be a 2-3 page paper.  

2) Some of the readings we have done (Agawu, for example) have offered the view that ethnomusicology in some way perpetuates the colonial relationship between cultures of unequal status in world influence.  These views range from the historical observation that ethnomusicology was born from the ideals of a western-centric society to the claim that the very act of studying another culture imposes, to some degree, a different culture upon it.  Rather than discussing a specific reading, please focus on your own opinions as to where ethnomusicology falls on this admittedly broad spectrum.  Feel free to offer suggestions for improvement, if you have them, but don't feel pressured to offer a solution to an issue that has plagued the entire field for decades.  Please address this topic in either a 2-3 page paper or a 4-6 minute interpretive dance.  

Monday, October 20, 2008

Interview Excerpt with Samantha Kuo

How did you get involved with the choir?

Freshman year, sorry. Um, freshman year, I was kind of looking, you know how freshman kind of look for things that they’ll fit in to, that they want to do. I’m catholic, but I had never really gone to church in high school, so, um, but I wanted to be in choir, but I didn’t want to do a cappella, so I was like well, what can I do. I ended up joining Jewish a cappella, by the way, but um, I came to church, just to check out the choir, and they were like yo, we need people, you know how they announce that, and then I went up and I just joined, and I’ve been with it ever since. It’s a lot of fun, it’s kind of scary starting out as a Freshman though, kind of intimidating, but it got a lot more fun as the years went by.

How do you feel like the choir affects your faith?

Umm, honestly, like I wouldn’t have gone to church if I wasn’t in the choir. Like, I go to church, now, I go to church twice, um, a weekend, and then, I guess, sophomore and junior year, um, no, sophmore year, I went to church once a weekend, and same as freshman year. But I really would not have gone to church as often; um, in high school, I was a baptized catholic, but I wasn’t a practicing catholic, and I didn’t believe in a lot of the things, but the choir has definitely forced me to, like, sit here, and listen to Father Bodah and he’s such, like, an intellectual priest, I think, he knows how to like I guess preach according to like, students, who are, like, I don’t know, at the stage in their life where they are learning about their faith still. So, um, just sitting here, because of the choir, definitely has brought me closer to god, and, um, a lot more religious, and faithful, I guess.

How do you feel about the people you sing with?

I absolutely love them, I mean, umm, they make me so happy. They make choir so worth while, um, we have so much fun, um, we laugh all the time, and I feel like that’s, I mean, my fault, a lot, and I don’t, I, well, I feel like sometimes we laugh too much, and that this is like a church choir, and I feel like we should be a little, a little more restrained, but like, this is like the one time in the week where we find, I think a lot of us feel this way too, where we really just find joy with people who share our faith, and who we just know are good people. And, um, I just absolutely love everybody in the choir, umm, yeah, they make me really happy.  

Interview Excerpt:

For your listening pleasure:




Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Critical Review #1

Overall, I found this reading compelling and interesting.  I was very impressed with the depth into the history and current internet culture of the white power movement, especially the first hand accounts, which I felt added a level of authenticity to discussion of a subject that is all to easy to judge from a distance.  I found the personals section both entertaining and revealing, and it added a touch of pathos to a group of people I find difficulty sympathizing with.  There were a few issues I have with the article, though.  First, I found the title to be very misleading.  The Wagner/Power Chord dynamic is attention-grabbing, to be sure, but I don't think the one line where it was mentioned merited titular status.  Furthermore, the title implied that the central focus of the article would be music, whereas I found that music was more of a periphery.  

On the other hand, the discussion of upper-middle class youth joining the movement was riveting.  The progression from a group searching for soldiers to searching for leaders is a telling step in their evolution.  It marks the point where they stop being a collection of people and start becoming a group that is bigger than the sum of their parts--in this context, a very scary thing.  Interesting, but still scary.  

Discussion Question (having very little to do with my review, and I am assuming I don't have to post it seeing as I am one of the discussion leaders): Can white power music be appreciated on it's purely musical merits?

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Critical Review: Barz, ch 13

I'm very thankful that I was able to experience taking fieldnotes before reading this chapter.  The issues of how the fieldnotes affect our final opinion of our research seems particularly relevant, for obvious reason.  I think that before this reading, I had seen fieldnotes as a very specific kind of document, similar to the notes one takes during class.  However, I really enjoyed reading about the different kinds of documents--such as letters home--that Barz included in his catalogue of fieldnotes.  It was striking to me that some things he never intended to note wound up being a large part of his final research.  For example, the picture where he did not realize his writing supplies were so prominent.  His ability to have such dynamic aspects of his work be fieldnotes was very beneficial, I think, in ensuring that the his research was as faithful to the experience as possible, not just to his perception of the experience.  His point on the affects of fieldnotes upon our final research is certainly valid, and it makes me wonder how if we should take our fieldnotes with this in mind, or just take them in a way that seems appropriate at the time, and then try to allow our research to take the shape the notes seem to suggest.  

Discussion question:  Should we keep our research in mind when taking fieldnotes?  Or should we try to 'forget' any aspect of our ultimate aim when taking notes of any kind, just take them as we become inspired by the situation, and trust that even if we cannot see any pattern at the time, they will form a coherent whole when we look them over from our desks at home?

Monday, October 6, 2008

Fieldwork Notes

10-02-2008 Manning Chapel Choir Rehearsal

Odd assortment of accompaniment--2 acoustic guitars, 1 electric guitar, 1 piano, 2 clarinets.  This suggests that the group is formed of whomever is interested, rather than with the ideal of acoustic excellence.  In music, more is only sometimes better, but I am guessing that in the church world, more is always better.  This leads me to believe that the group considers itself a church group first and a music group second.  

Interesting guitar techniques--despite the untraditional inclusion of the electric guitar, most educated classical musicians are aware both of the historical relevance of the harpsichord in church music as well as the relatively simple technique of using an acoustic guitar to imitate the harpsichord's distinctive plucking sound.  These guitars, however, were not making this attempt, rather than plucking the chords, they were vigorously strumming them on a consistently elaborated downbeat.  This either suggests ignorance of the classical church music tradition, or an active attempt to "modernize" the music.  

The guitars would play while the singers would try to learn their parts--While any musician is experienced with the boredom that occurs while the leader is working with another group of musicians, most consider it unprofessional to occupy oneself by idly playing during this time.  

The rehearsal atmosphere is very relaxed, with no clear authority figure.  While there is a group leader, they seem to only have authority over the musicality of the group, rather than social authority as well (such as the ability of a respected conductor to instantly silence a noisy orchestra)

The singers blend well.  This suggests to me that they most likely sang in a high school choir, if they do not at Brown.  

The singers are pleasantly surprised when they end on the proper pitch.  This suggests a lack of rigorous ear training, such as is found in most college theory courses or choirs.  

The rehearsal consisted purely of teaching music, there was no refinement of technique, or group shaping done by the leader.  The leader acted more as a teacher than the leader of a musical vision.  

The clarinets are not always doubling the soprano, they sometimes play independent lines or harmonies.  This suggested (which I later confirmed) that there is music specifically written for clarinet.  Because a clarinet is not a traditional church choir accompanying instrument, this in turn suggests that the books were written with a very diverse group of instruments in mind, designed specifically for a rotating series of instrumentalists designated by availability and interest, rather than an aural standard.  

evaluation
I have noticed in my notes that most of what I focus on is the musicality of the group, and much of what I write is somewhat critical.  I believe this is because of my bias as a music major and someone who is experienced with opera.  While I would like to be honest in what I write, I think that the biggest thing that makes this group special is not excellence in musicality, but rather the reasons they come together to play.  While I suspected this from the beginning, I did not suspect how much my personal experience with music would influence the things I notice and record about this group.  I would like to focus on more than their music in the future, and hopefully this will allow my research to be much more positive in nature.  

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Critical Review: Agawu

Agawu's essay brought up issues involved in the ethics of ethnomusicology--though he refers to himself as a music theorist, not an ethnomusicologist.  This is clearly an area that is very difficult to deal with.  I believe this is because we hold our ethics so close to us.  Though it is difficult to initially give up a western-art-music-centric view of the world, with a bit of thought and understanding it is quite possible.  This, I believe, is largely because of the work done by ethnomusicologists promoting cultural relativism.  The difficulty, I feel, arises mostly from the fact that western art music is such a large part of our culture and heritage, and it is difficult to view unfamiliar music as being equal to something we hold so dear.  

Ethics, though, are different.  We hold ethics far closer than we hold our culture; indeed, ethics are the rules we live our very lives by.  Surely, while music and culture are matters of taste, ethics are based upon something far more important--an internal barometer of right and wrong, given and accepted by all.  Much of western philosophy (and eastern philosophy, to be inclusive) is aimed at verifying and codifying this barometer.  Even if you look at our so called ethical debates, they are not about the barometer itself, but rather where issues fall on it.  Take abortion for example.  The pro-choice crowd argues that fetuses in their second trimester are not considered babies, while pro-life supporters argues that they are.  No one would argue that if the fetus was morally a baby, it would be OK to abort it.  While this is a heated topic, it allows us to see that fundamentally, our society agrees about our ethics, we just disagree on the details of interpretation.  

This is why it is so difficult to accept that other systems of ethics can be legitimate.  Surely, there is one internal system that all humans live by.  It is not that the western way is better, it is that the human way is the only way.  What else could there be?

We know, of course, that indeed other cultures, both past and present, have had drastically different systems of ethics from our current system.  We like to think that we are moving forward, nearing a more perfect system, so that our actions mirror our internal understanding of right and wrong.  Slavery, for example, while once accepted, is now not accepted.  We see this as movement forward, a righting of a wrong, so to speak.  Do we not have the responsibility to use the wisdom our culture has gained through a history filled with tragedy to help other cultures progress without having to suffer as we did?  This is a tricky issue, and leads to my discussion question.  I apologize for straying a bit off topic, and pontificating so much about the nature of ethics, but it seemed warranted.  

Discussion Question: Should the ideals of cultural relativism and bi-musicality be extended to ethical-relativism?  Are ethics somehow above the non-interference policy ethnomusicologists try to adhere to, or should ethical systems that may seem unjust be allowed to continue?  Does it make a difference whether we allow them to go on because we feel we should not interfere with a different culture, or because we want to accurately represent it to the scholastic community?  I would like to stress that I have not yet figured out where I stand on this issue.  

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Shadows in the Field: Chapter 6

Throughout this chapter, the ethnomusicologists examine the merits and risks of doing their fieldwork at home using modern technology.  Ultimately, they conclude that "doing fieldwork at home contributes to a more rounded ethnomusicology" (123).  This makes complete sense, as it allows you to avoid committing yourself geographically for an extended period of time, a commitment which is often influenced by factors other than pure scholarly curiosity.  However, this reading also made me think of a previous reading focused on keeping the dialogue between the ethnomusicologist and the culture they studied as transparent as possible.  The argument was that the influence of the ethnomusicologist on the encounter prevents the him/her from being able to legitimately call the experience authoritative and autonomous.  I began to wonder how technology would effect these ideals.  

Question: If, hypothetically, an ethnomusicologist did all of his/her research online, and did not contact the subject at all.  For all intensive purposes, he/she would be invisible.  How would this affect the ability of the ethnomusicologist to call their research autonomous?

SEM Perusing

One of the most remarkable things that I have noticed while perusing the Journal of the Society for Ethnomusicology is the lack of hostility assumed on the part of the reader. Often, in our readings, I get the impression that the Ethnomusicologist is always slightly defensive that the reader might not be taking them completely seriously. I think that this has a few possible benefits, in that the professional who is constantly forced to defend their place in the academic community often has a very intellect and secure understanding of it. I think part of the reason for this is that so far we have been reading, for the most part, about the fundamentals of ethnomusicology, being that we are only just leaving the introductory portion of the course. It seems to me that there is a greater chance of coming across a defensive position when the text is geared towards those who have never encountered ethnomusicology before than in a more advanced text intended for those with experience. However, any qualifications aside, it was very pleasant to read from the perspective of someone who is comfortable with ethnomusicology.

There is a very different type of dialogue created when the intended reader is one who has professional knowledge of the field. For example, “The Challenge of ‘Bi-Musicality’” by Mantle Hood jumps right into why bi-musicality is necessary in order to study other cultures without first arguing that this is a worthy goal. I know that it might seem obvious that in an Ethnomusicology Journal they pre-suppose that the reader will be amiable to the notion of studying the music of other cultures, but I do not think it trivial. I think that the basic rules of dialogue are changed dramatically in this journal, and I think that the impact of this change cannot be underestimated. It allows the writer to take riskier positions knowing that the reader will have the expertise to understand the broad strokes of the argument even if it is in a rudimentary form. It allows the writer to address more controversial topics that they might not be willing to address to the outside community. Also, it increases the chances that the writer would receive helpful feedback in crafting their argument. While all of these things may seem obvious, they provide a forum for discussion that I think is crucial to helping any fledgling field grow.

Specifically, I think that Mantle Hood’s article articulates some of the values that are very important to the field as we know it today. It was interesting to read about some of the direct changes in the field that came about due to the shift towards cultural relativism. So many things feel to us that they are taken for granted, especially given our modern education, that it is rewarding to read something from a different context, where perhaps a western-centric philosophy was still exerting influence held over from its previous years of dominance.

Monday, September 22, 2008

Critical Review: Clifford

In his account of discourses, Clifford refers to Ricoeur's contention that "for discourse to become text it must become 'autonomous'" (39).  While he does not disagree with this proclamation, he does disagree with the possibility of any text fulfilling this requirement.  He argues that the voice of the ethnographer, either stated or implied, can never be fully removed from the discourse, and thus the discourse can never transcend dialogue to become text.  The concept that there can be no true texts in turn means that there can be no authoritative depiction of the other.  By not attempting to transcend the voice of the ethnographer, the ethnographer maintains honesty at the expense of authoritative systemization.  Clifford argues that by keeping the focus on the voice the ethnographer can "resist the pull toward authoritative representation of the other" (44).  This represents a shift in ideals from seeking conclusions to sharing experiences.  While I do not argue that this change creates a more honest portrayal of the subject, I wonder how it will affect ethnomusicologists studying cultures they are a part of.  

Question:  With so much emphasis on maintaining the sense of the "other," and thus the distinction between the ethnomusicologist and the culture they choose to study, how will ethnomusicologists studying their own culture maintain a strict sense of the "other" when it exists not as a distinction within discourse between the ethnomusicologist and their subject, but between the ethnomusicologist and their audience?  Is a sense of dialogue to be artificially created between the ethnomusicologist and their audience?  Should they attempt to create a sense of "otherness" from within the "other" itself, and thus take the position of an ethnomusicologist attempting to falsely assume a fictional relationship with the subject that ironically mirrors the very situation they were trying to circumvent?

Fieldwork Project

I will be doing my study on the church choir that performs during Sunday services in Manning Chapel. After talking with the choirmaster, I have a bit of a feel for the type of performance group they are; this has inspired my preliminary questions:

1) Which is more important in this group: technical facility or the spirit of the performance?
2) Is the group more in touch with their musical roots or their cultural/religious sources?
3) What drew this group together out of the larger population at Brown University?

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Critical Review: Shelemay

I enjoyed this reading a great deal. It definitely changed my perspective on the ethics of getting involved directly in a community that one is studying. I respect Kay's rigorous attitude in crafting a set of ethical guidelines (p152), and I agree that the success of this method greatly depends on the degree to which the ethnomusicologist is aware of the impact they have, and employs vigilance so as to ensure that they can adhere to the set of moral guidelines Kay sets out. While reading this I wondered, is this view the result of understanding that participation is unavoidable and thus must be embraced in order to be controlled, or the valuing the benefits of participation to the extent that even if it were avoidable, it is morally sound to become active within the community. If, theoretically, it were possible to observe without entering to any degree into the society, that is, as a hypothetical fly on the wall, would it be more ethical to enter the society or not? This leads me to my question: to whom does the ethnomusicologist have a greater responsibility, the culture they are studying, or the worldwide community of scholarship?  

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

24 Hour Music Post

From 9:25am on September 8th to 9:25am on September 9th

Title/Artist/Info --- Time --- Place --- Source

Beeping midi scale of cell-phone alarm --- 9:25am --- My room --- My cell phone
Vague pop song behind movie preview --- 9:40am --- My room --- My Computer
Comedy Central intro music --- 9:42am --- My room --- My Computer
Daily Show theme song --- 9:43am --- My room --- My Computer
Vague pop song behind Daily Show --- 9:46am --- My room --- My Computer
Daily Show theme – end credits --- 10:04am --- My room --- My Computer
Aida—Verdi --- 10:13am --- My room --- My Computer
Track playing on Ethno website --- 12:16pm --- My room --- My Computer
Aida—Verdi --- 12:16pm --- My room --- My Computer
Tenacious D—Tenacious D --- 1:00pm --- My room --- My Computer
Vedro ‘l mio sol—Caccini --- 2:28pm --- Orwig --- CD Player
Euridice--Peri --- 2:30pm --- Orwig --- CD Player
Orfeo—Monteverdi --- 2:33pm --- Orwig --- CD Player
Piano Sonata No. 1 in F minor—Beethoven --- 4:00pm --- Orwig 315 --- Piano
Piano Sonata No. 1 in F minor—Beethoven --- 4:15pm --- Orwig 315 --- Stereo
Fragments of Piano Sonata No. 1 in F minor—Beethoven --- 4:22pm --- Orwig 315 --- Piano
Student practicing piano --- 4:40pm --- Orwig 315 --- Piano
String Quartet No. 1—Elliot Carter --- 5:11pm --- Orwig 315 --- Stereo
Fragments of Scherzo—Sam Headrick --- 5:20pm --- Orwig 315 --- Piano
Student pieces --- 6:00pm --- Jim Baker’s Office --- Computers
Colbert Report Theme Music --- 8:00pm --- My Room --- My Computer
Colbert Report Theme Music --- 8:20pm --- My Room --- My Computer
Hole in the Wall background music --- 8:25pm --- My Room --- My Computer
Commercial background music --- 8:35pm --- My Room --- My Computer
Hole in the Wall background music --- 8:36pm --- My Room --- My Computer
Commercial background music --- 8:37pm --- My Room --- My Computer
Hole in the Wall background music --- 8:27pm --- My Room --- My Computer
Prospero’s Books—Michael Nyman --- 8:46pm --- My Room --- My Computer
The Piano Concerto—Michael Nyman --- 8:59pm --- My Room --- My Computer
Serenade No. 10—Mozart --- 9:14pm --- My Room --- My Computer
Pavane Pour une Infant Defunte—Ravel --- 9:26pm --- My Room --- My Computer
Piano Concerto No. 3—Beethoven --- 9:26pm --- My Room --- My Computer
Verklarte nacht—Schoenberg --- 9:42pm --- My Room --- My Computer
Prelude to Parsifal—Wagner --- 10:00pm --- My Room --- My Computer
Aida—Verdi --- 12:00am --- My Room --- My Computer
Tristan und Isolde—Wagner --- 1:00am --- My Room --- My Computer
Midi alarm clock --- 9:15am --- My Room --- My Cell Phone








Monday, September 8, 2008

First post

This is my first post