Fieldwork Presentation

Wes on live vs. recorded music:





The Craters - With You Or Near You (live version)




The Craters - With You Or Near You (album version)




Wes on sampling:




The Craters - Kissables



Kincade - Zero

Critical Review - Steven Feld, "Notes on 'World Beat'"

In this article, Steven Feld discusses the appropriation of African music, particularly in the Paul Simon album Graceland. In short, he questions the amount of credit given to African and African-American musicians who play on the album, and the balance of power in the music industry in general.

Feld starts the discussion with the example of Mick Jagger, who recorded songs by Muddy Waters with the Rolling Stones. Jagger says he loved Waters and wanted to draw attention to his music, and Waters in turn approved of the versions. Feld first points out that the Stones' use of his material led to increased record sales, concert tours, etc., for Waters, but then turns to the negative: "However, it is clear that the economic rewards and recognition of artistic status that accrued to the Rolling Stones greatly outweigh those that accrued to Muddy Waters for the original recording." This sentence ignores the fact that the Rolling Stones recorded plenty of their own compositions - it's not like they succeeded solely on the basis of playing Muddy Waters tunes. What does "recognition of artistic status" even mean - how well-known they were, or how highly they were regarded? If the former, sure the Stones are known by more people, but it's not like Muddy Waters is written off by those who are familiar with both. I don't want to downplay his influence on the Rolling Stones - I just don't think that Feld has evidence that it was specifically music taken from Waters that brought them more fame. What if it was their other material that made people by the records that included Waters covers? Is it still exploitative then? And Feld doesn't really consider the notion that the Stones might have transformed the music in a way that might have made it more appealing to a broader audience. Also, he notes that "there is considerable cultural arrogance in the notion that it takes a recording by the Rolling Stones to bring recognition to the artistic contributions of a Muddy Waters." What? Who are you suggesting has this notion? Mick Jagger did bring wider recognition to Waters' artistic contribution. It might be a shame that it wasn't as widely recognized when originally released, but I'm confused about who's being arrogant here. It's hard for me to see Jagger crediting Waters in interviews as a bad thing.

"How then does one evaluate this type of trade, where original creative product by primary tradition bearers is appropriated in exchange for symbolic respect and possibly [money]?" This question totally ignores the fact that Muddy Waters was also influenced by artists. He did not invent the blues by any means, so I don't see why his music is the "original creative product." The idea of a "primary tradition bearer" is just silly. It's hard not to read a "blackness = authenticity" correlation in the wording here.

Skipping to later in the article (242), Feld suggests that Paul Simon downplays the African influences on the album because his name is at the top, it's produced by him, etc. My initial response to this is that this is practical 1) commercially, because people will buy Paul Simon records, not African groups they've never heard of, and 2) because there are so many different groups involved that it's hard to imagine a compromise for the album cover. That said, I think it's an important point Feld makes about drawing "the boundary line between participation and collaboration at ownership" ("Whose music? Paul Simon's music"). What would a fairer way to sort out the credit given to contributions?

This ties into the discussion about who gets songwriting credit. Feld cites a member Los Lobos talking about how Simon just asking the band to play and "that he eventually got a song out of [what they played]." In a situation like that, it's unclear exactly who is responsible...maybe we can discuss this in class...

Second Response to Jerzy

Jerzy's Response

Your point about Quebecois and Hawaiian geographical isolation is interesting to consider - I wish I had other examples to compare them with - but in any case, I didn't mean to exaggerate the parallels between entire cultures and a relatively small group of musicians.

With regard to early music being exclusively Western, I'm not sure I follow you. Clearly other cultures have long-standing musical traditions, but I don't remember Shelemay referring to them in any depth, at least not in this article. If they are mentioned, it's not as part of the early music movement, which I take to include mostly Renaissance/Baroque music. Thus when you write that early music players "feel no need to define their identity" through their music, I sort of agree with you - but not because "it may not even be their own." I think the important point is not that they might not feel that the music is "theirs," but instead that they choose to play the music on other grounds entirely.

More importantly, I think that referring to Hawaiian/Quebecois traditions as "their own" is problematic if you accept Handler and Linnekin's conception of tradition. In both of those cases, groups of people performed acts they deemed traditional though at times the practices weren't faithful to past practices (and in all cases were different simply because they were conscious of the idea of tradition behind the acts). The idea that that the traditions are "their own" simply because they have been passed down by ancestors obscures the fact that there are other kinds of connections between people that might be defined as traditional.

Critical Review - Jeff Titon, "Representation and Authority in Ethnographic Film/Video: Production"

In this brief paper, Titon discusses epistemological/ethical problems related to ethnographic films. He notes that, though film is seemingly more directly linked to reality then narrative writing, there are still conventions that dictate the presentation of material. Some strategies to help maintain objectivity, or at least make clear the nature of the subjectivity, are presented: these include showing the narrator/filmmaker onscreen, showing the recording setup onscreen, using the first rather than third person in narration, and even letting the subjects of the ethnography work the cameras (and decide what to film).

In an article dedicated to empowering the ethnographic subjects, one moment struck me as a little presumptuous. Titon relates his choice, while making the film Powerhouse of God, to include footage of John (the most prominent figure in the film) explaining the motives for his participation. That make sense, but Titon goes on to note that John never asked the filmmakers for their motives in making the documentary. Then: "After puzzling over this for some time, I realized he was content to let the project rest in God's hands...Our work would, in John's view, be judged by God" (93). The problem here is that Titon never asks John why he doesn't ask; he just invents ("realizes") a reason. Granted, it's hard to see how this invention could be harmful to John. It may well be correct. But it's not like there aren't other possible reasons. John could simply not care, he could have assumed the filmmakers were sympathetic to his goals, etc. It's a minor point, but given the context, stands out.

Aside from that, I felt some of the points about film versus writing were a little unclear. Titon writes that in order to portray someone telling a long story, "The most ethnographically pure strategy, it might seem today, would be to turn on the camera and just let run, from a stationary position, while focused on the storyteller from beginning to end" (90-91). The counterpoint presented, however, is essentially that this is boring. I agree that that's probably the case, but it introduces some additional concerns. Is it the duty of an ethnography not to be boring? That sounds like a silly question - obviously boredom is something we try to avoid creating - but at what point ought fear for an audience's loss of interest change the way an ethnographic film is presented? Two thoughts:

- Titon's point is more complex than I made it out to be in the last paragraph. The boredom concern is ultimately still a concern for the accuracy/neutrality of representation. If you're trying to communicate the character of a culture (i.e., rather than specific facts), the conventions of the medium as they affect this communication are a real concern.
- That said, Titon does seem to be writing about films for a general audience, which explains his focus on the conventions of film. Are there even ethnographic films made for a particular audience (something that is neither raw footage from fieldwork nor documentary for the general public)? There certainly don't seem to be film equivalents to the various points on the intended-audience spectrum found in ethnographic writing.

Challenge Question - Response to Andy

Andy's Post

I think you chose a good set of jazz players and outlined their contributions to the genre. I meant to direct my question more toward Nettl’s approach, though – that is, I wanted to consider the figure(s) with less attention to their actual achievements (e.g., bringing about a new style) and more toward the current perception of the figures and what this reflects.

To some degree you did this in identifying “Improvisational creativity, compositional innovation and technical virtuosity” as three top values. But I want to go a step further. Nettl, for example, presents a Mozart-Beethoven continuum, with Mozart representing divine inspiration and Beethoven endless mortal toil. Are there any oppositions like this between the values you mentioned? I don’t know much about jazz, so it’s hard for me to answer my own question, but one possibility strikes me. Improvisational and compositional creativity might be seen to come from different places – the former takes place during performance, the latter most likely in a more private setting. Obviously it’s possible to succeed at both, but are there players particularly renowned for one but not the other, or a pair of players often compared to present two sides of the spectrum? Nettl also mentions the Beethoven-Schubert split: complexity, masculinity, culture versus simplicity, femininity, nature. You contrasted Charlie Parker’s dense playing with the sparseness of Miles Davis, perhaps a similar opposition.

Also, how are the lives of these players perceived? You briefly mentioned Parker’s drug addiction and early death. Are his self-destructive and creative tendencies ever linked? I know that he and Miles Davis played together. Are there any myths surrounding their personal relationship?

I realize that some of these questions might not be relevant – I think I’m trying too hard to make a model that conforms to Nettl’s ideas. The jazz world is obviously younger and less governed by rules of particular organizations than the classical conservatory scene he describes. But I imagine there are still views of players that become more entrenched the more they are repeated. Will these three still be at the top of the jazz pantheon in 100 years?

Critical Review - Robert Neustadt, "Buena Vista Social Club Versus La Charanga Habanera"

In this article, Robert Neustadt compares and contrasts the 1997 Buena Vista Social Club album - the most commercially successful recording of Cuban music internationally - with the most popular album in Cuba from the same year, Tremendo Delirio by La Charanga Habanera. Neustadt notes the similarity in lyrical content between the two (and between the genres in which he places them), as well as the criticism (directed at misogyny, machismo, vulgarity, etc.) the lyrics have drawn. His attempt to connect the content of the two is at times shaky: "If there is a distinction between the evocation of sex [on the the records], it is a difference of degree and tone." ...So there is a difference? Why break out the "if" - it's not as if degree and tone are inconsequential. Some other points I found interesting:

Neustadt cites Leonardo Acosta, who notes the similarity between the criticism of successive African-influenced genres, presumably suggesting racist motives. Without any knowledge of Cuban culture, it's hard for me to know which words connote race, but at least in translation, those mentioned - "vulgar, violent, macho" - seem like they could be valid and without ulterior motives.

Neustadt suggests that the Buena Vista cover art is deceptive, or at least that it's been chosen to present a certain exoticized idea of Cuba. One might argue that the music on the album comes from the time of the cars on its cover; the two are parallels, pieces of the past still alive in Cuban culture. My point is that it's unfair to assume that the image is trying to present all of Cuba as an exotic place where past and present mix, as Neustadt seems to think.

Similarly, he asserts that "It does not matter if the audience does not understand the lyrics, because they are most interested in buying an image of Cuba (coupled with the rhythm that helps to create this image)." The margins ask, "is this unfair?" Absolutely. Neustadt is using ridiculous generalizations to characterize the audience he accuses of doing the same of Cuba. People can enjoy listening to music without lyrics, there are English translations in the liner notes, his assertion about what "they" want is without any factual basis, etc. Imagine if the situation were reversed, and someone said that the entire Cuban audience for some American style of music only was interested in an image of America, along with the sneaky parenthetical "rhythm that helps to create this image" (suggesting that the audience only appreciates the musical content on the most superficial level)? With the names switched, I think that Neustadt might pick up on the condescension here.

The "?" in the margins addresses the whole flag thing pretty well. Thank you for clearing up the musicians' motives without any actual input on their part, Mr. Neustadt.

And there's a bunch more, but hopefully we'll discuss a lot of it in class.

Critical Review - "Dancing with the Enemy," Deborah Pacini Hernandez

In "Dancing with the Enemy," Deborah Pacini Hernandez examines Cuban music fits into the world music scene, particularly with regard to perceptions of race and authenticity. She summarizes the history of the music since the Cuban Revolution - in short, despite great musical diversity supported by governmental programs, Cuban music's commercial viability on an international scale has been limited by the U.S. embargo. In fact, Cuban music considered "traditional," as opposed to popular/commercial, has had more success abroad as a result of policies that only permitted tours of groups whose music was considered to have educational value. In particular, Cuban music with prominent African influences has been sought out by world music labels, a tendency Hernadez attributes to American exoticization of blackness.

Hernandez notes that, in order to succeed commercially, Cuban bands "are even adopting the 'whitened,' percussion-poor salsa romantica currently dominating Latin-music networks" (120). At the same time, she discusses the world music scene's taste for the exotic. At what point does the music sound too commercial to be sold as "world music"? I would have thought that the rhythmic complexity of Cuban music would be a draw for listeners in this context.

Also, did anyone notice that Hernandez's language was sometimes loaded? She calls salsa romantica "percussion-poor," for example, an unnecessary judgment. And when talking about musicians trying to succeed internationally, she sets up a simplistic stylistic split; Cuban audiences "like their rhythms hot," while foreigners are "unlikely to understand the sophistication and nuances" of the music, so groups "are forced to tread a fine line" between the two. This whole section states the obvious - it's nothing new or surprising for musicians to change their style in order to make money.

The Concept of Tradition in the Early Music Movement

Jerzy's question:

On page 6 of Shelemay's Toward Ethnomusicology of the Early Music Movement: Thoughts on Bridging Disciplines and Musical Worlds Shelemay writes "I draw the analogy between 'The Lost World' and the BEMF not because either seeks to resurrect a lost path, but because of the manner in which both of these endeavors construct and transform the past in the present..." This brings to mind Handler and Linnekin's ideas on re-inventing tradition.



For those who have seen "The Lost World," write a 2-3 page response breaking down this analogy making sure to reference Handler and Linnekin. For those who haven't seen the film, write a response on the early music movement as it pertains to the re-inventing of tradition.

I haven't seen "The Lost World" since I was little, so I went for the second option. My response:



In “Tradition, Genuine or Spurious,” Handler and Linnekin define tradition as “a model of the past…inseparable from the interpretation of tradition in the present,” noting that “[T]he ongoing reconstruction of tradition is a facet of all social life, which is not natural but symbolically constructed” (276). Their definition stands in contrast to earlier models, such as Shils’ which distinguished “genuine” from “spurious” traditions based on their relationship to past practice. Handler and Linnekin present Hawaiian and Quebecois communities as case studies, arguing that their traditions are genuine regardless of how consciously reconstructive or “naively inherited” they are.

In “Toward an Ethnomusicology of the Early Music Movement,” Shelemay describes a musical community that fits into this conception of tradition in a unique way. She acknowledges the general perception of the early music movement assumes that its primary goal is to present historically accurate reenactments of Renaissance (and other “early” Western) music. Interviews with members of the movement, however, contradict this perception. The performers have a range of reasons for playing early music – surprisingly, several cite a desire for freedom. Joel Cohen describes people getting involved because they could “make it theirs” – he himself “wanted some space” (9). These musicians understand that it is impossible to be entirely faithful to the past, in part because of the limit of historical knowledge. They are aware that the very study of past performance practices that informs their music-playing renders it distinct from the music of the past – to quote Cohen again, “[N]obody ever did that before…they just played.”

This attitude on the part of early music players suggests that they conceive of tradition in the same way as Handler and Linnekin. In accepting the idea that one’s interpretation of the past inevitably influences any attempt at recreating it, one’s outlook on faithfulness to the past understandably broadens. The variety of approaches to early music described by Shelemay – from re-arranging pieces to fit different instrumentation to adapting past performance practices to modern pieces – with its lack of concern for being labeled “spurious,” reflects this newer conception of tradition.

To be fair, the early music movement does not have the same concerns as the Hawaiian and Quebecois communities described in Handler and Linnekin. Though the idea of tradition is common to them all, early music players stand out in that they are not defining their collective identity with their treatment of traditional practices. That is, Hawaiians/Quebecois perform what they consider traditional practices partly as a way of marking themselves as authentically Hawaiian/Quebecois. Early music players, on the other hand, have a variety of goals in their performance. The analogous goal might be to mark themselves as authentic re-enactors of early music, but I would argue that the additional level of removal here – they do not present themselves as having inherited the tradition, but simply as having chosen to perform something from the past – makes it different.

In addition to the conceptions of tradition of early music players themselves, there are the attitudes of the listening public to consider. As Shelemay notes, “the ‘otherness’ of the past remains ever-present, both a motivating force and strong drawing card for…many in the audience (as well as critics in the media), who revel in productions of works ‘you read about in history books but never hear’” (9). I imagine that this “drawing card” creates a commercial temptation for musicians to misrepresent the historical faithfulness of their performance. If the public has an appetite for a genuine recreation of the court of Louis XIV, reservations about tradition in the manner of Handler and Linnekin will remain backstage.

Critical Review - G.J. Campbell, "Old Can Be Used Instead of New"

In "Old Can Be Used Instead of New," Gavin James Campbell examines crises in shape-note music after the Civil War and around the turn of the 20th century. In particular, he highlights the tension between the desire to preserve tradition and the desire to incorporate new musical styles, as exemplified in various revisions of Sacred Harp songbooks and music publications of the era. Seven-shape notation was associated with gospel music, and more generally the modernizing tendencies of the New South, while four-shape notation was considered traditional. Reformers like E.L. White and Aldine Kieffer fell in the former camp, and their efforts to innovate were generally met with resistance. In contrast, revisions by William Cooper and Joseph James, who aligned themselves with traditional values, were more widely accepted. Campbell notes, however, that the degree of acceptance may have been affected as much by the presentation of the new songbooks as by the content. Joseph James, for example, seems to me to have been successful in selling gospel music to the more traditional Sacred Harp singers largely because he was the first to present the new music in the older four-shape notation.

This question is somewhat difficult to answer without access to firsthand accounts, but: To what degree do you think the shape-note singing public's reception of new songbooks at the time was the result of manipulation by the publishers? For example, were James' publications successful because they were in line with the values of the public, or simply because they bore had names like "The Original Sacred Harp," biblical quotations on the back cover, etc.? (After asking those questions, I realize that we really can't know how much manipulation was actually involved. I guess I want to open up a general discussion about the commercial influence on the discourse of progress in shape-note singing at the time.)

Challenge Questions

In the first chapter of Heartland Excursions, Bruno Nettl describes the workings of American music conservatory culture. "Why do the denizens of the Music Building," he asks in conclusion, "love so well a kind of music that grows from principles they would probably dismiss as characteristic of an unkind society?" Addressing a musical culture with which you have experience, examine the relationship between the political structure of that culture and the views of its members toward the structuring of power in general. To what degree is the political structure of the culture explicitly discussed by its members?

In the same chapter, Nettl examines the myths surrounding Beethoven and Mozart, and what they suggest about the values of Western classical music. Do the same with a specific musical tradition of your choosing - consider the mythology surrounding one or more of its prominent members, and what this mythology suggests about the values inherent in the tradition.

Critical Review - Bruno Nettl, Ch. 1 "In Service of the Masters"

In the introduction and first chapter of Heartland Excursions, Bruno Nettl begins to describe the "Music Building" (i.e., midwestern American classical conservatory/music department) culture - a culture to which he belongs. He compares its structure to that of a religion; the music faculty constitute the clergy, while the master composers of Western art music are the pantheon of deities. Mozart and Beethoven are particularly prominent, and Nettl examines how the myths surrounding them affect the performance and perception of their music (the tendency, for example, to insist on finding greatness in all of their work).

Nettl says that he intends to remain as impartial as possible, but suspects that his readers will feel his work is critical of the culture he describes. In light of the following question, it's not hard to imagine why. "Why do the denizens of the Music Building," Nettl asks, "love so well a kind of music that grows from principles they would probably dismiss as characteristic of an unkind society?"(42) Our class seems, for the most part, to be comprised of these very "denizens." So how do we answer Nettl's question? Is his portrayal of Music Building culture as based on "principles...characteristic of an unkind society" accurate (or relevant)?

Critical Review - Gregory Barz, "Confronting the Field(note) In and Out of the Field

In "Confronting the Field(note)," Gregory Barz reconsiders the role of the fieldnote in the process of reflecting on musical experience. Instead of the traditional model, in which field research leads to fieldnotes which leads to ethnography, he posits a more interactive system in which the three categories affect one another. In particular, Barz notes the difficulty of understanding exactly how the act of recording a fieldnote (or even carrying a notebook) influences the experience in the field.

In what circumstances (if any) ought the ethnomusicologist, perceiving her note-taking to influence those around her, forgo normal note-taking?

Critical Review - Deborah Wong, "Moving"

In "Moving," Deborah Wong examines some of the problems of performative ethnography in an interesting way; she alternates between outlining the problems in theory and attempting to write about taiko while explicitly avoiding the problems. Two characteristics of the performative ethnography she calls for:

"...it evokes the choreographies and modalities of performance in order to break down the subject/object binary and to deliberately draw on the generative power of performance." (79)

"It shows rather than tells. It is specific and particular." (79)

With regard to the first point, I agree that writing that draws on the "generative power of performance" would be effective. I don't, however, that Wong provides guidelines for (or examples of) doing so. Instead, in the section where she describes a performance, having claimed she would rely on relating the "specific events" (85), she says things like "It was incredibly loud and driven by a youthful energy that was infectious...[toward the end of the jam] the sudden sense of conjoined, coordinated playing was powerful in an entirely different and satisfying way." (86) Statements like those don't exactly evoke the power of performance. They simply assert that a particular performance was moving - telling, not showing.

Earlier, describing her first exposure to taiko: "I had a powerful, unequivocally visceral response to it. I responded as an Asian American watching other Asian Americans, and I am hard put to convey how commanding an experience it was" (79). Granted, she does try, but I don't find her description particularly moving. I don't mean to say that Wong is a vague writer - overall I thought her descriptions of the taiko jams gave a good picture of what was happening - I just don't know whether the type of powerful personal response she hopes to impart on the reader can be transmitted in this context.

Wong writes that "the inevitability of multiple subjectivities on the part of both ethnographer and interlocutor is now usually understood, and the task of representing the overlap is thus difficult and necessary" (83). But what is it exactly to do so? Even when the ethnographer attempts to note all these subjectivities, we're still accepting her subjective assessment of them.

Honestly, I just don't understand what "writing in an awareness of of such mobility [on the part of the ethnographer and her interlocutors] creates vital performative possibility" (83) means, so I feel like I'm missing a significant part of what Wong wants to achieve.

SEM

I read Mieczyslaw Kolinksi's article "Ethnomusicology, Its Problems and Methods" in the May, 1957 issue of Ethnomusicology and found his concerns to be quite different from current ones. Kolinski spends a good deal of the article refuting claims made by Eric von Hornbostel. Some of them seem ridiculous to me: Hornbostel made assertions about whether musical cultures (i.e., folk songs) have "basically ascending" or "basically descending" trends in their melodies. European music supposedly had the former, non-European music the latter.

Already there are some problems. How can all non-European music be grouped together? How can all European music be grouped together (and what counts as European)? If you solve those problems, how can you possibly provide a representative sample of all of the music in the world in order to compare? What does it even mean to have a "basically" ascending/descending trend?

This last question is addressed by Kolinski. He describes a system in which the first and last tones of a melody are given values in relation to the total tonic range of that melody. By calculating the shift for individual songs, and averaging this shift for all of the music of a particular country (again, how do you decide where everything belongs?), one can allegedly calculate the degree of ascent/descent in a particular culture's melodies.

Even if you accept the premise (that is, even if you ignore all the questions posed above), I would argue that this method is still ineffective for measuring the shift.

24 Hour Music Log

Sunday, September 14, 2008

12:00-1:00am: At a party. Some kind of dance music is playing in a room upstairs.

1:21am: Back in dorm. First several tracks from Wire's Pink Flag.
1:27: Wu-Tang Clan - Shame On a Nigga.
1:36: First three tracks from Neil Young's Harvest.
1:46: First two tracks from the Wrens' Secaucus.

2:41am: First three tracks from Neil Young's After the Goldrush. "Needle" is typed into iTunes in an attempt to find the song "The Needle and the Damage Done," but first Elliot Smith's "Needle in the Hay" goes on.
3:15: Youtube video - Swedish band First Aid Kit covering Fleet Foxes' "Tiger Mountain Peasant Song."
3:18: Elliot Smith's XO.
3:56: Jared Arnold - song 10 (soltero college song whiny vocals).
3:59: Soltero's Defrocked and Kicking the Habit goes on. Sometime between 4 and 5 I fall asleep, but iTunes works through four other Soltero albums until 7am.

12:49pm: Still in dorm. Soltero - Lemon Car.
1:02pm: Bob Dylan - Tombstone Blues.
1pm-6pm: Guitars and a harp are fiddled with frequently by myself and my suitemates. No playing together, just solitary noodling.

around 6pm: Cars pass me while I walk; muffled bass; only song I can pick is Lil Wayne's "A Milli."

7:30-8:30pm: I am offered a ticket to see the Kooks. Having never heard them before, a friend and I check out their music videos on Youtube. We get distracted and watch Len's "Steal My Sunshine," Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name Of," a-ha's "Take On Me," and a couple of search results for "crazy guitar" and "polka."
9:00-11:00: At Lupo's, in-between set music is being played over the sound system. Modern rock. Eventually the Kooks come on and play.

11:40pm-beyond: Back in my suite, people are watching Twin Peaks, a TV show with a memorable soundtrack. I go to watch an episode of the Sopranos in my room, which begins with Alabama 3's "Woke Up This Morning."