Sunday, November 23, 2008
TENTH CRITICAL REVIEW
Feld begins his article by noting the complexities of musical appropriation. On the one hand, it can be born from a sincere love and respect for the original music and musicians, but on the other, it often turns into "a countermelody of power, even of control and domination." Feld then examines this issue more specifically through the lens of Paul Simon's Graceland. He explains why the South African musical styles heard on the album sounded so non-foreign to Simon--there have been serious African-American/American influences on South African music. Feld continues with what I regard as the most important part of his article: examining the issue of ownership. Feld notes that although Simon acknowledges his collaborations, Simon nonetheless owns the copyrights of many of the songs on the album. I find his point that Simon gives greater credit to his South African collaborators than his American collaborators extremely interesting, and Feld's explanation fot the reason this was so: "Simon felt that these songs were in fact more his own, or at least less anyone else's" is thought-provoking even if it is largely unsubstantiated. Feld ends up blaming the structure of the recording industry for perpetuating problems of "power and control," but the purpose of this article is more to point out the problem than propose a solution.
Discussion Question
If you were an elite recording artist making a Graceland-like album, how would this article influence the way you carried out your project?
Monday, November 17, 2008
Response to Joe's Response
Joe's response: http://ethnomusicologyandme.blogspot.com/2008/11/feedback-to-hopes-response.html
You noticed something I wasn't even quite aware of. I really do seem have a pretty rigid dichotomy between the fun part (participating) and the for research part (observing). I admire Titon’s approach a lot and I think it’s something I could learn from. My situation is different than his, though. One of the things I didn't mention was that I am the youngest in the group by at least—I’ll be diplomatic and say fifteen years. So at the same time I am trying to blend in and be an average member of the group, I’m not. I have this project to do for my music class and I’m a teenager. But this is a group where differences are never overwhelming. I had a great conversation with Martha and L. last night. We were waiting for Bob to come and unlock the hall, and they started talking about various college kids who've played with them. L. mentioned that people frequently stopped coming because as the semester changed so too did their schedules and then she turned to me and said, “You’re not allowed to do that!”
People have expressed a great interest in seeing the results of this research. As I mentioned earlier, I emailed out the link to this blog, and I told people I’d give them copies of the interview transcripts and also CDs of their interview if they wanted them. I’m planning on writing my paper on next week’s dance and people have expressed interest in seeing that as well. We won’t talk about how behind I am on those transcriptions because that’s a secondary issue, but being more serious, it does make me much more careful about what I write and what I do. Since I want to continue playing with the Jammers, I don’t want to offend, hurt or annoy anyone. I have enjoyed playing in the group so much and I look forward to doing it for the rest of the year.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Ninth Critical Review
Titon begins this article by addressing the problems of representing another culture's music. He argues that an ethnographer always ends up dominating her ethnography. He writes that there are very definitely inherent problems in representing another culture through video and film, even though they may appear deceptively like "something that 'really happened.'" He points out that the informants' authentic voices do not really appear but are instead presented as the director chooses. He ends by discussion how ethnographic filmmakers can "diffuse" their own authority and make ethically acceptable documentaries.
Discussion Question: This article was from a section of Ethnomusicology called "Call & Response." What responses do you think this call paper generated?
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Eighth Critical Review
Neustadt begins by stating the impact BVSC has had on "most people's" perception of Cuban music. He contrasts it with the number one album in Cuba at the time, Tremendo, by La Charanga Habanera. Interestingly, Neustadt emphasizes that he is not interested in arbitrating authenticity, but instead in using these two albums and the response to them to draw conclusions about Cuban identity. He argues that LCH's music, timba, is a direct descendant of the son on BVSC. He defends timba by pointing out that son can also have sexually charged, misogynistic lyrics. And he seems to have a critical attitude towards the "BVSC phenomenon." I find it somewhat strange that he compares Ry Cooder and Nick Gold to men who travel to Cuba for the prostitution industry. It's an effective image but I'm unconvinced that it was necessary. He concludes the article by restating the role of son and timba in the lives of Cubans on the island. Despite his claim that he is not interested in arguing that one album is more "authentic" that the other, I think we can definitely see Neustadt making negative value judgments about BVSC and regarding LCH much more positively, although these judgments do seem to fit in with his point that these two albums represent two very different conceptions of Cuban identity. Unfortunately, in my mind he fails to adequately establish how these two different identities "are performing competing images of Cuban and worldbeat Cuban identity."
Discussion Question: Do Neustadt's value judgments (if you see any) help or hurt his point that La Charanga Habanera and Buena Vista Social Club represent two different images of Cuban identity?
Monday, November 10, 2008
Response to Sam's Answer
1. it was seen as a lazy way out
2. the early Internet did not provide culture(s) for study
3. it went against standard practice
Can you think of any more reasons?
You argue that disapproval of the virtual field is no longer relevant/possible, because the Internet creates cultural contact as well as new cultures. I agree! When I posed this question, I was hoping that the person who answered would play the devil's advocate and try to find reasons why the Internet is still an "unacceptable" place for fieldwork. Your response has made me doubt that this is possible, although I think there are probably still people who would look at the kind of fieldwork people like Kiri do with a certain amount of suspicion.
SEVENTH CRITICAL REVIEW
In this article, Pacini Hernandez writes about the unique place Cuban music has within Latin music and the world music industry. She writes that until the Cuban Revolution, Cuban music greatly influenced popular music throughout the world; after the revolution Cuban music was isolated until the late '80s. During this time of isolation, the Cuban government supported Cuban music and musicians, paying significant attention to Afro-Cuban traditions. Thus, when this music came to the attention of the U.S. world music industry, it had the African-derived elements that mark this music as authentic and interesting. She concludes by commenting on the consequences of the collapse of state support for music. She seems concerned by the possible effects of musicians trying to sell to a market (world music) that they do not really understand.
I found this article very enjoyable to read. The ideas are clearly-stated and thought-provoking. However, I was left a little confused as to the directions the Latin and world music markets would push Cuban music. To address this, I pose the following discussion question.
According to Pacini Hernandez, what are the potential pressures from on Cuban music from the Latin and world music markets? Does she make a judgment about the effects of these pressures?
Thursday, November 6, 2008
RESPONSE TO CHALLENGE QUESTION
Although fieldwork has been an enjoyable experience there have also been some challenges and problems that have come up. I always get a ride to sessions. Dance Sundays provide a whole different experience from a day without dancers. Doing fieldwork on dance Sundays and non-dance Sundays alike can be quite challenging but there seem to be marginal ramifications to what I am doing. There are a few things I would do differently; though on the whole I am content with the way my research has been progressing.
Getting a ride to sessions has an obvious positive: without the ride I would not be there at all. I don’t drive and there are no bus lines to Goff Hall. I usually get a ride with two or three other people. It’s about a half hour drive both ways, which means that there is a lot of time to chat. Sometimes what comes up in conversation is relevant to what I am doing. Usually, especially lately, it is dark outside leaving and coming back, so I can’t write anything down. Also, since I have interviewed most of the people in the car, I consider what is said as conversation among friends and not research material.
Dance Sundays are obvious research material—I plan on writing the performance ethnography paper about the November 23rd dance—but there are challenges in doing fieldwork there. It’s an extremely small dance, and the potluck that occurs beforehand is a chance for people (the musicians and the dancers) to sit down and talk to each other. I am still a relative newcomer to this community so I generally sit quietly and listen to people, most of whom known each other for at least a decade, talk to each other. I have not asked “research questions” in this setting, although I think it would be fascinating to hear what people had to say about their contra dancing experiences and what makes a good dance. I almost never have a pocket notebook with me and have never brought a tape recorder, so I have no way to take down what anyone says until after the dance.
In fact, I have generally only taken “fieldnotes” after I have gotten back to my dorm room. For the first three weeks, I hadn’t talked about my project all that much, and so it would have felt very weird just pulling out a notebook and starting to write things down. There also isn’t time, in the structure of a session, to do any writing. Each person picks a tune or set of tunes, and calls out the page number and title. Then you have to find it in the book, which has gotten slightly out of order, especially after page 130 or so. If there’s a set of two tunes, you probably need to set up the pages so you can see both of them. After that tune or set has been played three or four times, it is the next person’s turn to pick. It last two hours, encompasses two dozen tunes, and affords very little writing time. At the end of the session, people linger to chat, eat, brownies and put away chairs and music stands. Rather than retire to a corner to scribble, I help out, talk, and eat. Writing this makes me realize that I could take notes if I really wanted to. Perhaps I am focusing more on the participant end of the participant-observation?
I have tried very hard to be a good participant because I would like to keep playing with group after this project is over, which is probably also part of the reason I refrain from taking notes during the rehearsal. Note-taking would probably not set me that far apart from the group. The interviews I have done have given me a very interesting perspective on how the project has been perceived. (Note: I have not transcribed all of the interviews yet, so I am writing entirely from memory.) At least two people told me they enjoyed the interview because it made them think about things they hadn’t thought about before. One person jokingly said, “We’ve never felt so important in our lives before!”
There are several things I would do differently if I were a “real ethnomusicologist.” One would be to conduct much more structured interviews. Although I had a list of ten questions, I tried to let people go in the direction they wished. This has lead to some lengthy recordings (I think the shortest is forty minutes long.) I am so grateful the Jammers were comfortable talking to me, but it means I have a lot of transcription left to do, and I will unfortunately use only a small portion of the fascinating and valuable things all of them said. I would also let everyone know about it a lot earlier, although I would probably still send out the initial request to work with group by email. If I were doing this project as a professional ethnomusicologist, I would probably be a lot more mindful of the observer side of participant-observation, and would find a way to write during sessions and dances and talk to people about the project during social time.