Buchanan 1995
Buchanan discusses the history of Bulgarian folk music and how it was influence under the socialist regime since the early 20th century. Traditional Bulgarian folk music was called narodna muzika, and was generally a melody played or sang by a single person. But amongst the emergence of the socialist regime, musical professionalism began to develop. This explains how the government altered traditional music to popularize it for political and economic gain. As Bulgaria took part in the Warsaw pact and aspired to be part of the European economic community, the Bulgarian government wanted music to be more pleasing to the Western ear, and they wanted to make more money.
Indigenous musicians began to be seen negatively because they symbolized moral and financial impoverishment. While I understand that the government wanted to integrate itself, I do not understand how it could so blatantly sacrifice tradition amongst their own country. This seems like a sort of anti-nationalist move, trying to rid the country of and look down up tradition Bulgarian folk music. Instead, they encouraged the growth of Western style by abandoning solo performance and encouraging ensembles, standardizing instruments and tuning, and requiring musicians to go through certain training that taught Western ideals such as notation.
I thought reading about Bulgarian history really gave me insight as to how their music had developed over the nineteenth century. This is a perfect example of how historical/social context is necessary in order to understand growth. It is easy for one to say, the Bulgarians started succumbing to Western influence, but it is really not that simple. They specifically altered their musical style in order to gain some kind of political and economic power. But when does the government have the right to step in? Is power ever an excuse to abandon your identity as a country or a community?
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
3rd Critical Review
Thomas Turino discusses practice theory in terms of how Bourdieu defines habitus in Outline of a Theory of Practice. Bourdieu addresses the relationship between how people act and the "objective structures" of society. People tend to act based on what they have learned from their environment, in ways that are not always obvious and conscious. In fact, most people internalize the "objective structures" of society, which causes them to become "objective conditions", and eventually "internalized dispositions".
"As does Bourdieu, Gramsci, too, often characterizes "common sense" as being unelaborated, and some writers have been troubled by the implication that the internalized bases for everyday practices thus become relegated to the unconscious."
I thought the discussion around common sense was particularly interesting in this article because I have never thought of common sense as an unconscious entity. I think of common sense as the conscious decisions we make based on what we deem is the "correct" decision, or most moral decision. But it does make sense that "common sense" would also include our daily actions that we never consciously think about, such as how to walk up a flight of stairs or sitting in a chair.
So my question is, can music ever be considered to be common sense? What about when we sing lyrics to a familiar song without even realizing we know all of the lyrics? I know this doesn't exactly relate to the idea of "objective structures" of society, but it's most of an extension of what unconscious behavior entails, and what can be classified as common sense. Then, thinking backwards, is there a way that music can be considered to be an objective structure of society? Western cultures are almost taught to appreciate harmonies in music, so whenever we hear harmonies we perceive the sound as pleasurable. I would argue that that could indeed be an "objective structure" of society, and the pleasant feelings around the harmonies could be considered an unconscious, internalized common sense. Many people can tell you which songs they like and which songs they don't like without being able to articulate why.
"As does Bourdieu, Gramsci, too, often characterizes "common sense" as being unelaborated, and some writers have been troubled by the implication that the internalized bases for everyday practices thus become relegated to the unconscious."
I thought the discussion around common sense was particularly interesting in this article because I have never thought of common sense as an unconscious entity. I think of common sense as the conscious decisions we make based on what we deem is the "correct" decision, or most moral decision. But it does make sense that "common sense" would also include our daily actions that we never consciously think about, such as how to walk up a flight of stairs or sitting in a chair.
So my question is, can music ever be considered to be common sense? What about when we sing lyrics to a familiar song without even realizing we know all of the lyrics? I know this doesn't exactly relate to the idea of "objective structures" of society, but it's most of an extension of what unconscious behavior entails, and what can be classified as common sense. Then, thinking backwards, is there a way that music can be considered to be an objective structure of society? Western cultures are almost taught to appreciate harmonies in music, so whenever we hear harmonies we perceive the sound as pleasurable. I would argue that that could indeed be an "objective structure" of society, and the pleasant feelings around the harmonies could be considered an unconscious, internalized common sense. Many people can tell you which songs they like and which songs they don't like without being able to articulate why.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Fieldwork Topic
For my fieldwork topic I would like to study the taiko drumming group on campus. I have a friend who is in the group and have heard him mention going to/coming from rehearsal, but I realized I really know absolutely nothing about taiko drumming. All I know is that taiko means drum in Japanese, and taiko drumming is generally performed by an ensemble and is a relatively recent genre of music originating in Japan. I want to study something completely unfamiliar because I think it will give me a better perspective in terms of having no specific expectations or experiences to compare my research too. I am also attracted to the prospect of studying drumming because I have always been one to focus more on the melodic aspect of music - beat almost comes second, or is the background. I have never really studied rhythm purely on its own.
Some of the things I would like to focus on in this project is, how many people on this campus know what taiko drumming is, or have ever even heard a taiko performance before? I would like to interview my friend who is in the ensemble, and ask if he was also in an ensemble when he lived in Japan. I am curious to find out how both the ensembles and the audiences may differ, and the overall "enthusiasm" or interest in taiki drumming at Brown versus in Japan. I want to sit in on their rehearsals and attend as many of their concerts as possible between now and the end of the semester.
Some of the things I would like to focus on in this project is, how many people on this campus know what taiko drumming is, or have ever even heard a taiko performance before? I would like to interview my friend who is in the ensemble, and ask if he was also in an ensemble when he lived in Japan. I am curious to find out how both the ensembles and the audiences may differ, and the overall "enthusiasm" or interest in taiki drumming at Brown versus in Japan. I want to sit in on their rehearsals and attend as many of their concerts as possible between now and the end of the semester.
Third Critical Review
This critical review is in response to Phenomenology and the Ethnography of Popular Music by Harris M. Berger.
Berger begins this piece by explaining how he began his career as an ethnomusicologist. As a music major at Wesleyan University, he was taught that rock music, his love and passion, was not sophisticated music. As much as he tried to convince himself to enjoy other genres, he continually felt drawn to rock. When he took his required ethnomusicology class, he was attracted to the freedom amongst the subject, how ethnomusicologists could study whatever type of music they wanted to.
He continues to discuss how "all musics are equally worth studying; that music is inextricable from the rest of culture; that music doesn't have an inherent value, but is only valuable to particular people in particular societies..."(64). Berger takes a very philosophical approach to the study of ethnomusicology, often calling it "phenomenology of ethnography". He emphasizes the importance of experience in creating music, relating to music, and finding meaning in music. Those who write music can only write what they know, which is their own personal history and experience. What is meaningful to them will not reach out to everyone, because everyone connects to a single piece of music differently - no two people will have the same response to the same song because they come from different backgrounds.
It is important for ethnomusicologists to understand the importance of meaning in both making music and reacting to/listening to music, as both are incredibly personal experiences. Technical sophistication in a piece does not in any way guarantee more people will enjoy listening to it. In fact, there is no way to teach someone how to listen to music. Yes, we can learn to pick out different instruments and timbres and time signatures, but we can't teach ourselves how to find meaning. As Berger illustrates, music is not merely a string of notes or a sound, but someone's past, someone recounting an event or personal experience through a different medium other than speech.
This makes me think about the thousands and thousands of trained musicians in the world, and how few of them actually make a name for themselves. Is this because they are more technically skilled than their peers? Maybe on a certain level, but more than anything I think it is because of their passion. The players who truly make themselves vulnerable and emotional during their performance are the most brilliant. But I also wonder, what kinds of experiences lead people towards connecting to different styles of music? Is there even a trend? Or is it so individualistic that we really can't recognize any patterns? How do the events going on in our lives while we listen to music influence how we view that music?
Berger begins this piece by explaining how he began his career as an ethnomusicologist. As a music major at Wesleyan University, he was taught that rock music, his love and passion, was not sophisticated music. As much as he tried to convince himself to enjoy other genres, he continually felt drawn to rock. When he took his required ethnomusicology class, he was attracted to the freedom amongst the subject, how ethnomusicologists could study whatever type of music they wanted to.
He continues to discuss how "all musics are equally worth studying; that music is inextricable from the rest of culture; that music doesn't have an inherent value, but is only valuable to particular people in particular societies..."(64). Berger takes a very philosophical approach to the study of ethnomusicology, often calling it "phenomenology of ethnography". He emphasizes the importance of experience in creating music, relating to music, and finding meaning in music. Those who write music can only write what they know, which is their own personal history and experience. What is meaningful to them will not reach out to everyone, because everyone connects to a single piece of music differently - no two people will have the same response to the same song because they come from different backgrounds.
It is important for ethnomusicologists to understand the importance of meaning in both making music and reacting to/listening to music, as both are incredibly personal experiences. Technical sophistication in a piece does not in any way guarantee more people will enjoy listening to it. In fact, there is no way to teach someone how to listen to music. Yes, we can learn to pick out different instruments and timbres and time signatures, but we can't teach ourselves how to find meaning. As Berger illustrates, music is not merely a string of notes or a sound, but someone's past, someone recounting an event or personal experience through a different medium other than speech.
This makes me think about the thousands and thousands of trained musicians in the world, and how few of them actually make a name for themselves. Is this because they are more technically skilled than their peers? Maybe on a certain level, but more than anything I think it is because of their passion. The players who truly make themselves vulnerable and emotional during their performance are the most brilliant. But I also wonder, what kinds of experiences lead people towards connecting to different styles of music? Is there even a trend? Or is it so individualistic that we really can't recognize any patterns? How do the events going on in our lives while we listen to music influence how we view that music?
Monday, February 13, 2012
SEM History Post
After looking through Ethnomusicology articles from the 1950s and the 1970s, it became clear to me that not was ethnomusicology a new, developing field in the 1950s, but in even just two decades it grew and expanded to encompass a completely different kind of study.
The articles in the 1950s seem heavily focused on musical technique. Many of the authors talk about specifics of scales, such as ascending versus descending, or scale degrees. They often compare the specific differences between countries or continents. I found that the authors particularly liked to address "Western versus Non-Western", or "American versus European". This to me seems like a very narrow minded way of thinking, and presents many of the issues the articles we have read for class discussed themselves. In particular, I do not think the term comparative musicology had been completely abandoned yet. Some of the articles talk about moving away from the idea of it, but most of the articles still describe methods that come off as comparative to me. Even just mentioning the scales of different countries in comparison to America sets a tone of power, especially be discussing what the most common scales are. Does it matter which ones are the most common? Does that make them "better" than those which are uncommon? I understand this is important in terms of understanding how musical methods may have spread or influenced each other over time, but the way in which it is presented does not address this.
The articles in the 1970s focus much more on the idea that ethnomusicology includes essentially anything, any way of life or tradition or culture, that relates to music. The articles have moved away from the specifics of technique to addressing more of what music means to society. In the 1950s articles, authors try and convince the readers that ethnomusicology is an interdisciplinary study, but I didn't find their arguments very convincing. They give you the what, but not the how. In the 1970s articles, however, the authors really spend more time discussing the methods as they pertain to different fields. This to me showed how much the field grew to really associate itself with anthropology. You can also tell that ethnomusicologists have really abandoned the term comparative musicology by this time. Another major difference I noticed was simply how the authors talked about the term ethnomusicology. In the 1950s, the authors made much more of an effort to specifically describe what the word meant, what people in the field did, and its applications in society. However, in the 1970s, authors are careful in how they describe ethnomusicology, and many of them describe it as a somewhat ambiguous term/study that can't be accurately described without going against the purpose of the study itself. They also seem much more careful in how they address other cultures so as to not have a superiority complex over the societies they are studying. This goes hand in hand with abandoning comparative musicology and focusing more on integration and observation.
The articles in the 1950s seem heavily focused on musical technique. Many of the authors talk about specifics of scales, such as ascending versus descending, or scale degrees. They often compare the specific differences between countries or continents. I found that the authors particularly liked to address "Western versus Non-Western", or "American versus European". This to me seems like a very narrow minded way of thinking, and presents many of the issues the articles we have read for class discussed themselves. In particular, I do not think the term comparative musicology had been completely abandoned yet. Some of the articles talk about moving away from the idea of it, but most of the articles still describe methods that come off as comparative to me. Even just mentioning the scales of different countries in comparison to America sets a tone of power, especially be discussing what the most common scales are. Does it matter which ones are the most common? Does that make them "better" than those which are uncommon? I understand this is important in terms of understanding how musical methods may have spread or influenced each other over time, but the way in which it is presented does not address this.
The articles in the 1970s focus much more on the idea that ethnomusicology includes essentially anything, any way of life or tradition or culture, that relates to music. The articles have moved away from the specifics of technique to addressing more of what music means to society. In the 1950s articles, authors try and convince the readers that ethnomusicology is an interdisciplinary study, but I didn't find their arguments very convincing. They give you the what, but not the how. In the 1970s articles, however, the authors really spend more time discussing the methods as they pertain to different fields. This to me showed how much the field grew to really associate itself with anthropology. You can also tell that ethnomusicologists have really abandoned the term comparative musicology by this time. Another major difference I noticed was simply how the authors talked about the term ethnomusicology. In the 1950s, the authors made much more of an effort to specifically describe what the word meant, what people in the field did, and its applications in society. However, in the 1970s, authors are careful in how they describe ethnomusicology, and many of them describe it as a somewhat ambiguous term/study that can't be accurately described without going against the purpose of the study itself. They also seem much more careful in how they address other cultures so as to not have a superiority complex over the societies they are studying. This goes hand in hand with abandoning comparative musicology and focusing more on integration and observation.
Second Critical Review
This critical review is in response to "Writing Against Culture" by Lila Abu-Lughod.
Abu-Lughold focuses on the main distinction between the self and the other in this piece, specifically through anthropologists, feminists, and "halfies". There is a fine line between self vs. other and power vs. inferiority. Through each of these studies, as professions attempt to expand their knowledge on cultures other than their own, they consequently create the other. But this is also limiting in their creation of boundaries - why do separate countries need to be separate entities? There will always be some crossover between what we define as different cultures, as people are not physically separated from each other nor are they unaware of societies that exist beyond their immediate proximity. At this point in time, with our methods of communication and transportation, almost no one in the world is completely isolated and ignorant of the fact that somewhere there exists a people different from him/herself. But Abu-Lughold discusses how such differences cannot be defined by concrete terms, as ways of mankind really exist along a spectrum with no distinct borders. I like how she discusses how in order for one to find or discover his/herself, the other must exist. The self and the other depend on each other. This could be an explanation as to why people seem to take comfort in labeling both themselves and their peers. Maybe mankind has a tendency to segregate to feel more secure about their selves.
This made me wonder, what is the threshold for defining someone or another culture as different? Obviously similarities and differences exist across all realms of culture, from nations to states to towns to individuals. So when do people decide to call something different? There is an infinite number of characteristics that constitutes each individual, which is why we really exist on a spectrum. But this spectrum can't really be a two dimensional line from black to white, it must extend into all dimensions to really represent all that defines a single being. It strikes me as odd that people can be turned off by a single trait in a single being. Or, vice versa, people can be attracted to a single trait in a single being. So bringing this back to the discussion of the self and the other, how does an anthropologist successfully immerse him/herself into a new society to study their culture? Must the anthropologist possess certain traits to be accepted into this new society? Is it really possible for an anthropologist to be treated as a member of this society, even if the society perceives him/her as different?
Abu-Lughold focuses on the main distinction between the self and the other in this piece, specifically through anthropologists, feminists, and "halfies". There is a fine line between self vs. other and power vs. inferiority. Through each of these studies, as professions attempt to expand their knowledge on cultures other than their own, they consequently create the other. But this is also limiting in their creation of boundaries - why do separate countries need to be separate entities? There will always be some crossover between what we define as different cultures, as people are not physically separated from each other nor are they unaware of societies that exist beyond their immediate proximity. At this point in time, with our methods of communication and transportation, almost no one in the world is completely isolated and ignorant of the fact that somewhere there exists a people different from him/herself. But Abu-Lughold discusses how such differences cannot be defined by concrete terms, as ways of mankind really exist along a spectrum with no distinct borders. I like how she discusses how in order for one to find or discover his/herself, the other must exist. The self and the other depend on each other. This could be an explanation as to why people seem to take comfort in labeling both themselves and their peers. Maybe mankind has a tendency to segregate to feel more secure about their selves.
This made me wonder, what is the threshold for defining someone or another culture as different? Obviously similarities and differences exist across all realms of culture, from nations to states to towns to individuals. So when do people decide to call something different? There is an infinite number of characteristics that constitutes each individual, which is why we really exist on a spectrum. But this spectrum can't really be a two dimensional line from black to white, it must extend into all dimensions to really represent all that defines a single being. It strikes me as odd that people can be turned off by a single trait in a single being. Or, vice versa, people can be attracted to a single trait in a single being. So bringing this back to the discussion of the self and the other, how does an anthropologist successfully immerse him/herself into a new society to study their culture? Must the anthropologist possess certain traits to be accepted into this new society? Is it really possible for an anthropologist to be treated as a member of this society, even if the society perceives him/her as different?
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
First Critical Review - Richard Handler and Jocelyn Linnekin
Handler and Linnekin aim to define tradition and its common misuses in modern society. To view a particular tradition as old or new "encourages us to see culture and tradition naturalistically, as bounded entities made up of constituent parts that are themselves bounded objects. They go on to discuss how it is not really feasible to say that culture remains stagnant through time, because modern context changes the interpretation and meaning traditions from the past. In addition to this, for us to refer to the past means we are in the present and have a different frame of reference that influences how we view these aspects of culture as objects that identify certain nations and groups of people.
One of my favorite points they made was that the people who preceded us were not consciously aware they were establishing traditions for their nations - it was simply their way of life. Handler and Linnekin discuss this in their case study of culture in Hawaii, as they examine the convergence nationalist and rural Hawaiian tradition. This is why we do not need to base tradition off of its relation to the past - what is important is its relevance in present day society. In conventional luau, Hawaiians would offer kumu, a red fish, to the Gods, because "red was a ritually high color". But nowadays, luaus are characterized by the serving of lomi-lomi salmon. This is also a red fish, and as Handler and Linnekin point out, "very few modern Hawaiians are aware that lomi salmon is probably a surrogate for the kumu fish...this historical relationship is irrelevant, and lomi salmon is just as traditional, just as meaningful, as kulolo or laulaus".
This made really question what it means to have tradition, and what constitutes tradition in general. Just as we listen to certain types of music and are inclined to associate it with a specific culture, society, and/or setting, we distinguish people and groups of people through these defining characteristics. So even though tradition can bring about feelings of pride and nationalism, can it also be a means of separation amongst mankind? How so? Especially in America, where people come from all over the world with all different backgrounds, there can often be a conflict between the traditions of where you are from and the traditions the define where you settle. So how do you decide which ones are more important to stay true to? Is it possible to combine traditions from two separate societies and still feel as though you are equally a part of each one? Where does your personal identity come into play in all of this?
One of my favorite points they made was that the people who preceded us were not consciously aware they were establishing traditions for their nations - it was simply their way of life. Handler and Linnekin discuss this in their case study of culture in Hawaii, as they examine the convergence nationalist and rural Hawaiian tradition. This is why we do not need to base tradition off of its relation to the past - what is important is its relevance in present day society. In conventional luau, Hawaiians would offer kumu, a red fish, to the Gods, because "red was a ritually high color". But nowadays, luaus are characterized by the serving of lomi-lomi salmon. This is also a red fish, and as Handler and Linnekin point out, "very few modern Hawaiians are aware that lomi salmon is probably a surrogate for the kumu fish...this historical relationship is irrelevant, and lomi salmon is just as traditional, just as meaningful, as kulolo or laulaus".
This made really question what it means to have tradition, and what constitutes tradition in general. Just as we listen to certain types of music and are inclined to associate it with a specific culture, society, and/or setting, we distinguish people and groups of people through these defining characteristics. So even though tradition can bring about feelings of pride and nationalism, can it also be a means of separation amongst mankind? How so? Especially in America, where people come from all over the world with all different backgrounds, there can often be a conflict between the traditions of where you are from and the traditions the define where you settle. So how do you decide which ones are more important to stay true to? Is it possible to combine traditions from two separate societies and still feel as though you are equally a part of each one? Where does your personal identity come into play in all of this?
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