Musicological Musings

2012 Grawemeyer Award Winner, or, Hey look, another Violin Concerto

2011-11-27T22:54:00.001-05:00

Greetings from the University of Louisville, or as we're known this time of year, Grawemeyer Award for Music Composition central.* I'm taking a break (ok, procrastinating) from my nearly-completed PhD applications to tell you (ok, post links I cribbed from Alex Ross) about this year's Grawemeyer Award winner, Esa-Pekka Salonen. I haven't heard the work, and I won't begin speculating wildly about what yet another award going to a Violin Concerto means (4 or 5, depending on how you split the Kurtág, out of 25), but I figured you'd want to know. Either way, new music FTW!

* No one actually calls us this.

Transcription: The Ethnomusicologist’s Greatest Tool, or The Most Over-Rated Aspect of the Field?

2011-10-17T21:16:00.003-04:00

I have been doing a lot of thinking about transcription’s relevance to the contemporary field of ethnomusicology. My conclusion: like it or not, transcription is a necessary evil, but only in certain instances, as it is often a complete waste of time.

Before going any further, I must submit to full disclosure. I am currently taking a course in transcription methods and it is proving to be the bane of my existence. Not only does it take up an enormous amount of time, but it also is the source of unrelenting stress. To make matters worse, I am amazingly terrible at it. For reference, each week I (attempt) to transcribe musics from varying cultures and genres: British ballads, country blues, Cambodian orchestras, central African hocketing flute tunes, Bulgarian women’s choirs, etc.

Now, I don’t mean this post to be a proverbial pity party, nor do I intend it to function as an outlet for my frustration. I am truly interested in opening a dialogue regarding the necessity of a skill that takes many years of hard work to simply hone to acceptable levels.

For those of you who are not ethnomusicologists, transcription (the process of visually representing music by way of writing it in standard Western notation or by devising an alternative means of achieving the same effect) began as a way for ethnomusicologists to discuss music with people who had no means of hearing the sounds for themselves. As technology has improved and recordings have become immediately accessible, there are some in the field who feel that the practice has run its course—Nettl seems to have aligned himself with this school of thought, at least to a degree. Some, such as Seeger, have even taken a proactive approach to eliminating the need for researchers to make their own transcriptions by developing transcribing machines—now, I know someone out will say that Seeger and the like spent countless hours working on devices such as the Melograph in hopes removing the biases of the human ear, though do you honestly think that was the only motivation? And, on the other hand, there is no shortage of those who stand unwaveringly by the skill as the principle tool in the ethnomusicologist’s arsenal. So what is the answer?

Now, I have already given away my thoughts, but some explanation may be in order. Like it or not, technology is advancing so rapidly that we are capable of embedding recordings in whatever e-Book or online journal article we happen to publish; until the takeover of e-books, online guides and supplemental CDs serve the same function. Additionally, it seems that a computer program capable of accurately analyzing tones and rhythms is within grasp. Moreover, if the ethnomusicologist is well trained in analytic techniques, s/he can effectively convey her/his thoughts with words alone.

However, spending hours listening to, and tweezing-apart, a single piece of music in order to accurately transcribe it provides access to otherwise unobtainable insights. Furthermore, the inclusion of a detailed transcription alongside a published text allows others to make their own judgments and to form their own opinions about the music; to deny this chance not only adversely affects the student, but the field of knowledge as a whole.

So, what do to? Should we continue to torture pupils of ethnomusicology through the forced acquisition of a skill that serves no genuine purpose outside of some sadistic rite of passage? Or, should we continue to ensure that no ethnomusicologist is sent out in to the field without the foremost skill necessary to accurately and justly serve the music s/he is to encounter?

Rethinking My Position

2011-08-26T11:38:00.003-04:00

Ok, here’s the deal; I was wrong. I hate to admit it, I really do, but I must be honest with myself. After watching Tuesday’s semifinal round of “America’s Got Talent,” the grandest display of amateur talent the world has ever seen, I fear I must mourn the loss of the starry-eyed idealism that I expressed in last year’s post concerning this hit TV series. For those you who may not remember (or who never read), last year's post chocked back excitement for the rise in classical music’s cultural capital—a phenomenon that I truly felt we were witnessing. In summary of the previous entry, I expressed the opinion that the competition’s continued dominance by classically trained (and more importantly competent) musicians was a sign that Americans were starting to make the long and arduous return to artistic refinement. After watching the latest round of the current season, I am left questioning the haste of my celebration. At this moment, my sentiments on the subject read more like a cantankerous old coot who scolds the neighborhood kids for “playing that god-awful racket too darn loud.” In the first draft of this post, I even went so far as to say, “I am now forced to recognize that the American masses are so blinded by the pizzazz that the talent-less hacks of today’s Top 40 continually pass off as ‘music,’ that we as a society, are truly incapable of differentiating between ‘good’ and ‘bad.’ That is to say, when something is presented to us under the guise of talent and refinement, we accept it without question.” However, in review of my words, I acknowledge that I may have been too harsh. After all, we as trained musicologists must remember that we listen deeper and more acutely than most other folks. If this were not the case, the little need there is for us would be greatly diminished. Nonetheless, I stand by my aggravation and disappointment.

My fit of exaggerated discontent was caused by the performance (and all performances prior) of Lyes Agnes, a self-proclaimed, though utterly untrained opera singer. Ms. Agnes is a favorite of both the judges and the audience, as she has strikingly beautiful personal style and a heart-warming story. Throughout the show, her talents have been praised for her ability to perform classical works—though her song on Tuesday night was a rock song with “classical” vocal stylings—with technique and poise. However, I am always left wondering if the judges and I saw the same performance. Again, recognizing my belligerent attitude, her spotty pitch, over singing, inappropriate use of ornamentation, incorrect breathing and poor posture, leave me feeling utterly unimpressed.

I do not mean to single out Ms. Agnes, or to suggest that her decidedly “unclassical” approaches are the reasons that classical music will not witness an elevation in cultural capital anytime soon. She has, though, opened my eyes (and I don’t think this is necessarily a bad thing). Music, as suggested by my heroes of the Marxist School of Cultural theory, has simply been commercialized and commoditized to the point that an understanding and appreciation of true art has slipped from our collective consciousness.

With that said, there are several very good musicians still in the game, not the least of which are Daniel Joseph Baker and the band Poplyfe. The difference however, is that the aforementioned groups are not watered-down versions of classical musicians; they are powerful and talented popular music acts. And, for some reason, this sort of labeling makes a world of difference in how I perceive them.

Completion of "A Career"

2011-07-20T18:40:00.000-04:00

From Laurel Fay's wonderful and indespensible Shostakovich: A Life:

"The final movement of the [13th] symphony, "A Career," was dated 20 July 1962, a date that... Shostakovich would commemorate for the rest of his life." (pg. 229)

In honor of the man and his music, and in the spirit of continuing the celebration (and turning this into a yearly thing), posted below is 5th movement (NB- the first video begins at the end of the 4th movement). I plan on listening to the movement and spending a moment or two reflecting on the text. As Shostakovich said, "Every morning, instead of morning prayers, I reread–well, recite from memory–two poems by Yevtushenko, "Boots" and "A Career." "Boots" is conscience. "A Career" is morality. One should not be deprived of conscience. To lose conscience is to lose everything. And conscience needs to be instilled from earliest childhood." (pg. 229)

New Music Feature, Part 2- James Young

2011-06-29T21:32:00.000-04:00

It's been a while since I've posted (I'd actually forgotten the log-in, so what does that tell you?), but I thought it was worth commemorating our 15th follower! We've finally expanded to the point where I don't even know each of our followers personally, which is a new level of celebrity for me. I'd like to continue with part 2 of our new music series, featuring three piano pieces by James Young. For those of you unfamiliar with this feature, I encourage you to check out the first part, where I review a piece by Nat Evans. (I could also refer you to the two or three posts wherein I ranted about getting this feature started, but we're here, so why quibble?)

In the interest of full disclosure, some background. James and I went to U of L together, where I was continually in awe of his intelligence, sensitivity, and musical intuition. We spent many a night ranting over the confining nature of the modern concert space, and I consider him a close friend and one of the best musical minds I've had the pleasure of working with. He's now at the super fancy Peabody Conservatory, and has just finished his first year of DMA work. I'm writing today about three piano pieces he gave me the first summer I taught in college; I thought it'd be interesting to have my students talk to a real live composer (and Boulez has like a three year waiting list). James shared his time and ideas with my students, who liked these pieces (more or less).*

The first piece, "Game," is structured on three groups of staves. Like Stockhausen's Kalvierstücke 11, the pianist can select from which grouping s/he choses to play from. In James's piece, the pianist begins with one pitch, and then selects the next fragment from the top grouping. Once the pianist plays the groups a set number of times, they move onto the second group, and so on. The fragments get progressively more complicated, but if one listens carefully, one can hear the initial pitch return like an aural anchor throughout the work. The beauty of its work lies in its nature as fragments; despite the fact that my students would inexorably label the music as "random," each gesture is written so that it seems a logical reaction to what came before, and to what follows. In fact, each fragment would probably be worth exploring and developing, so compelling is each idea. I wish that I had multiple interpretations to compare, in order to better realize the potential of the piece's changing nature.

I find myself compelled to criticize the second piece, the evocatively titled "Large Black Window." The voice leading could at times be smoother (for example, in the beginning measures, an E and D changes places, with one becoming the melody note and the other the inner voice, in subsequent measures. To be fair, it looks more awkward than it sounds). There could be greater differentiation between harmonic and melodic elements (or the melodic could come to the fore more prominently sooner), and the syncopated chords at the end don't seem to grow from the earlier music (if that is indeed even relevant aesthetically). This is all by way of hedging, and I fear, like the Queen in Hamlet, that I doth protest too much. I really like this piece. The harmonies are colorful yet accessible and the overall structure of the piece supports its drama, realizing the upward expanding ideas latent in the first bars of the piece. In a purely sonic sense, I find it truly beautiful. If postmodernism is nothing more than accessible modernism, then this piece is postmodernism at its finest. If the same is a blending of elements of a modernist language divorced from the modernist loathing of the moving, then this piece is still postmodernism at its finest.

The final work, "Motion Machine," features the best aspects of a repetitively based, motoric rhythmic energy, with none of its downfalls (which, at this stage in music history, include lapsing into parody or failing to commit enough to achieve escape velocity for fear of repeating oneself). The main ostinato is perfectly proportioned; it isn't too long or repeated too often without a change in accents to bore. Again, this mix of modernist ideas and postmodern accessibility is at the heart of what makes these works good music. Couple this fact with the music's viscerality, its palpable sense of how fun it is to realize these works at the piano, and you have a maturity in writing for piano that belies James's young age.** I eagerly await his other works for the instrument, and fervently hope that he explores using a larger canvas.

Overall, I was struck with the use of space throughout all three works, both in the sense of utilizing the physical keyboard and between the various musical aspects. No doubt a sensitive performance helps immensely, but the breathing room between gestures in "Game" was just enough to let you absorb each idea without becoming ponderous. The same applies to "Large Black Window." After each arpeggiated chord, performer and composer left a moment to hear the entire sonority, and reveal in the play of overtones that makes the work so colorful. Conversely, the filling of the musical space so completely in "Motion Machine" makes that work a perfect end to the set.

At the risk of generalizing, these piano pieces seem more accessible than some of James's music, and can serve as an excellent introduction only to his music. They should also serve to bolster the supporters of new music, knowing that many talented composers and responsive performers have yet to be discovered. If this convinced you to seek out this music, I couldn't ask for anything more (and if James leaves a comment with his contact info, you can find out where to hear his stuff). And for all of those who I've promised I'd write about, I still intend to follow through. All the names are saved on a sticky note, which constitutes a written contract and will serve as a guarantee.*** Have a happy 4th of July!

* As a disclaimer, it's been that long since I've seen the scores, so if details are wrong, I beg forgiveness, and hope James will rectify them with a comment.

** Hand to God, I didn't originally intend this pun, but it's well worth keeping.

***This does not actually constitute a written contract.

Yay! I have a Master’s Degree! Now What Do I Do? -Part II

2011-06-16T15:54:00.003-04:00

I want to start off with an apology for taking so long to get this to you, our loyal readership. In explanation of my tardiness I will say that I have been consumed by a project that I intend to publish; I have been examining the significance of the invocation of place in Memphis rap. As a tangential aspect of the research, I have also been working on a proposal for presentation at a national conference, which was just submitted (as in, about an hour ago). So, without further delay, here is a recap of my first year as a doctoral student.

Yay! I have a Master’s Degree! Now What Do I Do?

–Part II: Doctoral Studies

I recently finished my first year as a doctoral student in the Musicology/Southern Regional Studies program at the University of Memphis. During the first two semesters, I was able to take ethno courses in American Folk/Popular Musics, The Blues, World Musics, and Fieldwork and Methodology; my final papers ranged from the important of place in local rap (see above) to measuring the acculturative process on the indigenous music of Easter Island. I learned a substantial amount and I thoroughly enjoyed the process of doing in each case. I also realized that there is an exciting (read: intimidating) amount of material out there. Even after working in two separate traditional music archives and spending countless hours reading about/playing/listening to music that is not Western art music, not to mention serving as the graduate assistant for three separate World Music courses under two instructors, I went into this year with only the slightest understanding of humanity’s musical capabilities. The great (read: scary) part is that in reflection of my first year of doctoral studies, I am now even more aware of the vast amount of music with which I am still not familiar.

In addition to the ethno courses, I also had the chance to take a couple historical musicology courses: Renaissance Music and American Amateur Brass Band. Though the latter is more akin to the folk/pop side of the coin, my final paper focused on Ives’s compositional relationship with the brass band. Coming into the program I was worried that I would not be able to take musicology courses as the SRS coursework is a hefty load, so I was relieved to have the opportunity to fit these in (I have a M.M. in Music History and Literature). The brass band course was particularly fun as we spent the last portion of the semester playing the music, all of which was new to me. This experience also served as my foray into the bass drum, which was cause for lots of laughs and hopefully not too much frustration on the part of the actual musicians.

One of the most valuable lessons that I have learned over the last year is that ethnomusicology is not a science and it cannot be approach like one—historical musicology, while I will still argue is not a science, is at times more “scientific,” especially when the analysis is based on universal theories and the composer/performer is able to explain his/her intentions using a language that is understood by the field at large. By this, I mean that music, as a part of living culture, is always in flux. The ethnomusicologist is responsible for documenting music in situ, as it existed, exists and changes and the ethnomusicologist must be willing to arrive at a destination other than the one s/he was aiming for. As such, I now see that the music we study is not benefited by examination in a vacuum, which is a problem that many historical musicologists face.

I believe the hardest lesson that I have learned is that not everyone in a doctoral program (be it musicology, performance or otherwise) approaches school the same way I do, and that this is not necessarily a bad thing. I obsess over assignments and am notorious for tackling papers from the moment they are assigned. I also write dozens (I mean this literally) of drafts, editing for hours on end. And, after all of this, I am rarely satisfied with the final outcome. For others, a 25 page final paper can be whipped out in a week and still receive a good grade, with which the author is content. In doing so, those who prescribe to the latter method are spared my anxiety and mental distress. The lesson being that what works for me doesn’t work for everyone, and that is ok. Also, I guess the better lesson is that I shouldn't take my self so seriously.

Another hard-to-learn lesson is that undergraduates are often times morons. Though I have been in academia for the better part of a decade now, this past semester’s Italian I was the first 100 level course I have had in many years. I was dumbfounded by the lack of focus, the reprehensible behavior and the desire to distract from others’ learning. I am inclined to write this off as an isolated incident, though I think that Prof. Hausmann might be able to support the contrary. We will see, I suppose, if the situation is any better in Italian II.

Like Prof. Hausmann, the biggest difference between the fall and spring semesters was also my comfort level. Just having a semester’s worth of experience with doctoral studies really helped me to produce better work. Not only had I had time to get comfortable with the new expectations of a doctoral student, but I was already settled into my job and into the city as well. I also didn’t have to spend the entire break leading up the semester studying for entrance exams, which was certainly a plus.

The most difficult adjustment I have had to make, aside from being 8+ hours from home, is that I have had to work on building a new support network. By the time I left Louisville, I had made many great friends and developed wonderful relationships with a handful of faculty members. Needless to say, it was never difficult to find someone with whom to share a meal and drinks, or even to coerce someone into reading over a draft or a proposal. Though I am starting to build those sorts of professional and personal relationships here, it was not easy. It also is taking longer than I seem to remember it taking when I first arrived in Louisville, though I am not sure why.

The biggest benefit to doctoral work, at least for me, is my assistantship and stipend. Working in the music library I am surrounded by scores and books all day, which is a nice reminder that I should be doing something productive. I also work with some amazing and talented people, which is always a good thing. The best part, though, is that I don’t have to work an outside job. I spent my time at UofL working in an art museum, which was a lot of fun, though it was less convenient. I also feel more appreciated now that I have a fancy scholarship and stipend. If you can get paid to go to school, I highly recommend it.

Yay! I have a Master’s Degree! Now What Do I Do?

2011-05-19T16:16:00.003-04:00

We at Musicological Musings are happy to report that both of our regular contributors have recently reached milestones in their long journeys toward academic excellence: John has finished his first year as a college professor and Tyler has wrapped up his first year as a doctoral student. In the wake of such accomplishments, we are offering a two-part, year-in-review post highlighting the highs and lows found along each path—we hope this exercise in narcissistic reflection will prove especially interesting for those of you who are currently trying to decide between looking for a job and applying to terminal degree programs. The first of such installments is given below and the second will follow in a week or so. As always, please feel encouraged to leave questions and comments.

Yay! I have a Master’s Degree! Now What Do I Do?

–Part I: Professorship

I recently finished my first year of teaching. I taught a history of Western music for non-majors (essentially a music appreciation class on steroids) and a history of rock and roll (which is essentially a cash cow for the University). All things considered, I think it went very well. I think most of my students learned something, I feel that I was as an effective a teacher as I possibly could have been, and I played a *lot* of music, so hopefully some of it sunk in.

One of the hardest lessons I've had to learn involves what one professor has called the "digging holes or stringing wire" problem–that in a survey course, you need to find a balance between covering as much as possible (there are student and institutional expectations inherent in a survey course) and going in depth enough with a few topics (so that students not only have time to think about something, but that it's possible to demonstrate discipline-specific thinking). The first semester of my Western music course, I definitely strung far too much wire. While I was better able to manage this in the spring, I still need to go deeper more often. It's a tough decision (do I leave out Josquin? do I skip Mozart's chamber music?), and one I don't relish making. I use Kerman/Tomlinson's "Listen," which intentionally focuses on the common practice period; since this is already built into my text, I might take more advantage of it. I will still talk about everything else, but I don't think I'll focus on it as much next year (this has the added advantage of playing to my strengths). I also think that I'll do a brief historical survey, and then organize the rest of the course by topic (do a 3-week unit on operas, for example).

I honestly think I'll do the exact *opposite* in my rock class; I've added about 25-45% more material than we usually cover [N.B.- this estimate is a guess. No math was used in the arrival at this number]; while I end up skimming over a lot, I want to paint the broadest picture possible, since so much of the music is known to so many of my students. I will try to focus more on specific songs (talking about why they work and so forth), but I think that I will continue to move over a vast amount of material. I've tried going to the present, and I've tried making it to the 90s, and I think that I will continue to end around that later time. I've also found that, if I end with rap, it ties together a lot of the major themes we began talking about at the start of the semester, but reframes them (it's a lot easier to see why N.W.A. is scary, but Bill Haley? Not so much).

The biggest difference between fall and spring was my comfort level; unfortunately, this translated into me being expansive (read: long-winded) with the material at the beginning of the semester, and then needing to move far faster throughout the remaining material (my course calendar was a joke by the beginning of February). I also noticed that the students are better (smarter, more engaged, more polite) in the spring, and can't wait to break in another group of freshman.

One of the other major changes I'm making is about my attendance policy. It's currently punitive, and I have logistical and philosophical objections with it. I think that I'll still have a hard and fast rule (for example, if you miss four or more classes, you fail automatically), but there will be rewards instead of punishments (for example, if you miss three classes, you can redo a paper, etc)

I'd also like to make a quick mention of the fact that I've gotten great institutional support this past year. I've heard lots of horror stories, but at every level, I've felt supported, listened to, and helped. I've also been able to take advantage of several pedagogical classes specifically for part-time faculty, and hope to do the same next year.

If I had to bitch (which I do), I'd say that the "cons" include living so far below the poverty line that there isn't any other legal job I could have that would pay less, and the students. While they can obviously be a real treat, I've been appalled by what seems like the ever expanding new lows of student behavior, spelling, etc. I had a girl email me all semester and not address me by name (even FIRST name, which I had to wean some students off), or sign her name, or tell me what class she was in, or use proper grammar or spelling or any punctuation. Every time I think I've hit bottom, I find a new low. I'm sure if I talked to a physicist, there's a universal field theory in there somewhere.

The most important lessons I've learned: you have to let a *lot* roll off your back. I'm naturally an A-type wound-up spazz-wad, but if I project calm in the class, I feel that more learning (and less resentment) happens.

I've also learned that you should never, EVER, EVER talk about basketball. I'd rather talk about Obama, Jesus, and why 9/11 was an alien/governmental conspiracy than basketball. I'll stick with making hockey references.

The Origin of Music

2011-04-06T16:58:00.003-04:00

Have you ever wondered where music comes from? I don’t mean this in the “iTunes is killing local record stores” sense, or even in the more philosophical “what factors underscore the creative output of a musician?” sense; I mean, have you ever really wondered why humans first began to manipulate their acoustical environment? If you are a composer, musician or musicologist of any stripe, I am willing to bet that you have. Luckily for you, the following is an ultra-concise, pocket-edition summation of some of the more interesting theories on the origins of music as formulated by the leading minds of the musicological, philosophical and otherwise-academic worlds. I will, however, offer the caveat that some of these theories are a bit nutty and most are not—and never were—accepted by mainstream academia. It is also important to remember that, short of a flux capacitor and a modified DeLorean, there is no way to prove—or disprove—any of this. Nonetheless, they are fun to consider, even if only briefly.

At this point, I am also realizing that it is probably beneficial to provide a definition of “music” that can be used as even footing for all who are about to consider the following. In doing so, I acknowledge that trying to define music is just as problematic as trying to determine the origins of music. However, if we can all approach this from the same vantage point (even if the view is only shared within the context of this post), then we can hope to avoid some of the more troublesome pitfalls that often plague discussions similar to this one. That said, for our present purposes, let’s look at “music” as: humanly produced and/or organized sound that is presented within some sort of frame. For those of you keeping score, this means the hum of the florescent lights above your head and the murmuring of the folks around you do not qualify as music. Cage’s infamous 4’33” does, however, meet the necessary qualifications. In a similar fashion, the chirping of birds is not music, though all prerequisites are satisfied when found in the context of a composition by R. Murray Schafer or when rendered by Messiaen.

Now let’s move on to the theories which are supplemented by occasional color commentary.

-Charles Darwin suggested that music evolved out of the mimicry of animal mating calls (I bet he would have loved Teddy Pendergrass).

-Herbert Spencer felt that music came out of heightened or emotional speech (Emo fans, pay attention).

-Carl Stumpf says the idea of fixed pitch or tonal language developed as a means to communicate over a long distance (This one goes to 11).

-Curt Sachs builds off of the ideas of Stumpf in suggesting that there were two paths to music: 1) logogenic (out of speech) and 2) pathogenic (out of emotion).

-Bruno Nettl, working of off Stumpf and Sachs, believes language and music developed simultaneously. Thus, one would be the logical and equal partner to the other. As such, this theory, like many earlier theories, also suggests that speech and song were more closely related at some point in our collective past than they are now. (Can you picture Neanderthals communicating in Sprechtstimme?)

-S.F. Nadel suggested that music arose out of myth. All cultures have myths on the origins of music, and thus Nadel figured that music is intrinsically connected to ritual and religion (Much of Christian rock has done little to improve this relationship).

-René Girard, like Nadel, taught that music arose out of ritual, but more specifically out of the first ritualistic murder. According to Girard, this ur-murder was a direct result of the scapegoat mechanism. In a nutshell, Girard is saying that people, in mimesis of one another, desired what they did not possess, and in the process of searching for someone to blame for their shortcomings, isolated one person as the cause. This newly identified “problem” was then, let’s say “solved,” thus giving rise to celebration.

Personally, I find Girard’s origin theory to be the most plausible as well as the most interesting. Thoughts?

Early High School Graduation in Indiana

2011-02-27T18:32:00.000-05:00

Recently, the Indiana Senate voted to offer an “earlygraduation scholarship” for each high schooler who graduated “before grade 12” and went on to college. The ideabehind this is obviously to decrease the amount of money the state has to payeach year for secondary education by funneling the students out of public schoolsand dumping them, orphan-like, on a college doorstep.

It doesn’t take a lot of thinking to realize this plan’sEuripidian flaw. We don’t even need to get into the logistical problems ofstarting college in the spring semester (which will either throw students offrequired sequences, or cause colleges to adjust two-term introductorysequences). These high school students will have a half-year less of math, ofEnglish, of writing, of foreign languages, etc. This is learning that will haveto occur at some point, and even in my short tenure as a college professor I’vefound that most of my students are already woefully unprepared for higher levelthinking and writing. There’s no way that having new students with up to a year's less knowledge willhelp the problem.

These students will also have that much lessphysical, emotional, and social development. Most 18 and 19 year olds aren’tprepared for the non-academic challenges of college life, so how can wepossibly expect those who are even younger to cope? The disparities betweenfreshmen and seniors is already wide enough (since brains take years todevelop, as do social skills), and adding 17 year olds to the mix can only exacerbate existing problems, whilecreating new ones.

The final problems with this plan are two-fold. Indiana’slaw essentially guarantees that everyone who wants to be competitive for jobs,etc., will have to go to college. Having a college degree used to meansomething (or so I’ve always been told), but as it becomes the new standard, itstarts to mean as much to the job market as a high school diploma: it onlymatters if you don’t have one.Moreover, if the state saves money by getting kids out of high school and intocolleges earlier… yes, the short-sightedness of this plan rapidly becomesapparent. The state might save money for a few years on secondary educationcosts, but then will have to put that money into colleges and universities.

Trying to save money and balance a budget by cuttingeducation is a classic “nose to spite the face” situation. It might work wellin the short term, but it’s not a viable long-term solution. If we want aworkforce that can’t compete, a country whose test scores can’t impress, andcitizens who can’t think well enough to realize a stupid idea when they seeone, slashing education is the way to go. But if we want smart,articulate, well-spoken individuals who are intellectually flexible, rational,and capable of understanding not just 21st century problems but 22ndproblems, education is the only viable long-term solution.

South African Singing Groups and African-American University Jubilee Singing Groups

2011-01-20T19:01:00.004-05:00

I’d like to offer up some thoughts on the musical and social connections between the vocal groups in South Africa and those of Jubilee singers from the Historically Black Colleges in the United States. Although the ideas and conclusions expressed herein have yet to be fully formed, I think the observations are worth sharing, even in this nascent state. With any luck this will eventually develop into a conference paper, so please feel free to offer your comments, concerns or insights on the matter.

With the recently concluded semester I had the privilege of taking a course in American popular and vernacular musics. During one of the lectures, Dr. David Evans—noted Blues specialist and Grammy award winner—spent considerable time on the formation and proliferation of singing groups at such schools as Fisk, Howard, and Tuskeegee Universities, a phenomenon which occurred at the turn of the 20^th century. As he was playing an example from 1902 by the Dinwiddie Colored Quintet, a group associated with the Dinwiddie Normal and Industrial School, I was struck by the sonic similarities between this music and South African vocal groups like Solomon Linda and His Evening Songbirds and the more contemporary Ladysmith Black Mambazo. Following up on these musical connections, I discovered that university Jubilee groups and South African vocal groups do have interconnected histories despite the musics being separated by many miles and having arisen from somewhat divergent cultures; that is, post-slavery America and Anglo-conquered Africa.

The Jubilee groups are a product of African American spirituals fusing with Western classical sensibilities. Through this process, university Jubilee groups presented folk material in a Western classical idiom by relying on cultivated voices and formal performance practices, thus bridging the gap between “art” and “folk” realms (the significance of such, is an article in an of itself). The resultant music exploded into the collective consciousness of America, and soon the world, with ferocity that went unmatched until Bieber-mania (now entering into the “popular” realm). These spirituals, with their wonderfully lush textures and close, sliding vocal harmonies were praised by the lay music consumer, music aficionados, and even the most stringent German-born musicologists of the day (if you have ever read any Adorno or Dalhaus, you most certainly have an impression of the astounding levels of curmudgeonly-ness the latter were capable of). At the height of the popularity of the Jubilee groups, ensembles like those from Fisk and Howard Universities were traveling the world performing for sold out audiences and even for the occasional royal court. During these worldwide tours, groups often stopped off at harbor towns, such as Cape Town, South Africa, as it took a long time to take a boat around the world. While docked, performances for locals were inevitable.

The Americans were sure to make an impression on the black South Africans, largely because the music of the university groups was concordant with that of their own. That is to say, both musics relied on similarly thick vocal textures and close harmonies. The South African tradition is rooted in the Zulu Kingdom (1818-1897) and thus was established a decade or so after the United States ended the practice of importing people as slaves (from 1808 onward, all slaves in America were born in America; a trend that led to the development of a distinctly unique African American culture), which suggests that both styles developed independently, as slaves in America did not possess musical memory of Zulu musical traditions.

Apart from the musicality, the social implications of Jubilee singing did not go unnoticed by the South Africans. The university singers, through their fancy suits and sophisticated countenance, occupied a social tier more in line with their white oppressors—if literal equality was not accomplished, and I don’t mean to suggest that it was, the semblance of such was, at least temporarily, present. South Africa, at the time, was under the tyranny of the white aristocracy and black South Africans were not blind to the similar injustices endured by African Americans. As such, black South Africans saw something in these singing groups that seemed worthy of mimicry and thus began to synthesize practices of the Jubilee groups with their own traditional music; a coalescence that resulted in the development and popularization of the vocal style proliferated by groups like the aforementioned Ladysmith Black Mambazo (and later problematically appropriated by Paul Simon). Furthermore, with this adaptation, the music also once again makes the migration between “art,” “folk” and “pop.”

Here are a couple clips so that you can see the similarities for yourself (and yes, the second example is the original recording of what would, thanks to Pete Seeger and later The Tokens, later become the painfully obnoxious “The Lion Sleeps Tonight”).

A Christmas Funk-icle

2010-12-29T12:00:00.000-05:00

We've been on winter hiatus for several weeks now (I personally haven't done a lick of work since I got my Kindle), but we wanted to leave you with some holiday cheer. Following are three different versions of Funkadelic's "Dr. Funkenstein." Happy Holidays from Brian, John, and Tyler! We'll see you in January.

Homer and Kerman

2010-12-01T11:20:00.001-05:00

I recently finished readingHomer’s Illiaid, one of the oldestworks of literature. It’s long, and it’s at times amazingly bloody (perhapscasting doubt on the stereotype that the Romans were the violent ones), butit’s well worth reading. Part of this thrill comes from the experience ofreading a masterwork of Western culture, and part because it is nice to be able to say that I’ve readit.

I had a translation byRichard Lattimore, which included over 50 introductory pages that made thereading experience far richer than it otherwise would have been. One of Lattimore’s pointswas that, in order to fully understand the Illiad,one must remember that the work originated as rhymed poetry meant to beconsumed aurally. If a reader keeps that in mind, and even can romanticize thesituation and put themselves in the mindset of listening to this long epicrecited by a professional storyteller over the course of many nights, one getsa very different understanding of the dramatic function of the text. The textdoes not *really* function as written prose, no matter how capable thetranslation. In the same way that someone who reads a play must account for thechange in dramatic function from stage to page, the reader of the Iliiad will struggle if they do not takeinto account the original function of the poem.

This manner of readingdovetailed nicely with ideas in Kerman’s Operaas Drama. Kerman’s main point is just that: that opera is inherently adramatic art form; however, the drama comes from the musical content, and notfrom any combination of text, scenery, or stage action. Some of theimplications of this are obvious, but some warrant follow-up, given some current operatic practices. I haveseen several operas that were, for various reasons (mostly logistical),presented in semi-staged or concert versions. If Kerman’s idea holds water (andI believe it does), these versions should be just as dramatic as fully stagedversions, if not more so, as the audience can focus exclusively on the music(which bears most of the dramatic markers) without being distracted by on-stageshenanigans. A corollary to this would be that listening to an opera with ascore is a more authentically musical experience, and hence, full of more dramathan watching an opera. This obviously is not Kerman’s point; he’s not in anyway advocating for concert versions to replace staged versions or anything ofthat sort, but the implications are latent in his idea. I personally don’t believethat the music of an opera functions effectively as an isolated concert piece;however, I’ve seen several productions like this, and I’ve found it helpful tostudy operas without viewing them. The main thing I try to remember is thedramatic context of the notes that I’m staring at, and the fact that thesemusical ideas are meant to be staged. Mentally returning the work to itstheatrical context usually serves to ground me, and aid in a more nuancedunderstanding of the music.

To me, one of the values of Kerman’s idea comes in its potential forteaching and understanding opera. By getting students (or myself) to first lookat the text, and to begin to understand latent dramatic potential, one canbegin to think about the work in a manner akin to a composer of opera.Obviously the composition process is much more involved than this, but gettingsomeone to think along these lines can not only be a rich intellectual andcreative exercise, it can help make opera begin to come alive. It is this lifethat the characters in an opera or in the Illiadneed, and which can only be provided by the reader.

A Very MOMA Halloween

2010-10-31T16:03:00.000-04:00

From all of us here at Musicological Musings to all of you there, checking your RSS feeds and NOT dressing up as Snooki, we'd love to wish you a very modern art Halloween. Like Phish's legendary Halloween shows, we have a tradition [1] of surprising and delighting our long-time fans. For your viewing enjoyment, we have created aura-rich Picasso and Mondrian pumpkins, presented here in both still and moving [2] representations. What would Benjamin say?

[1]– Last year, we were unable to bring you this post due to severe rottage.
[2]– Despite giving my DSL connection all day, the video still hasn't uploaded. I'll try again when I get to school.

Coal Miner Songs

2010-10-14T19:00:00.002-04:00

The following is a commentary on my most recent research project, entitled "Oppression, Violence, and Unity: A Survey of Coal Miner Protest Songs." I wish I could post the entire paper, though I know very few would be interesting in reading it in this context. If you are, however, so included to give it a look, let me know and I will be happy to send you a copy.

The basic idea behind this paper is that coal miners were treated pretty terrible throughout (and well before) the labor movement. It was not uncommon for a miner's already meager wages to be lowered without just cause or due notice, if not withheld completely. Worse, still, was the practice of compensating miners, not in legal tender, but in company scrip that was only valid at over-priced company owned and operated stores. Miners were even forced to rent company housing, resulting in the constant threat of eviction.

Recognizing this as an unfair way to be treated, the miners unionized and subsequently went on strike. In response, companies often responded with physical threats--many gained the support of the state militias and some even hired gangsters from Chicago to serve as mercenaries. Faced with violence, the miners typically answered with "eye for an eye" tactics.

Throughout all of this, miners were composing songs in order to create a historical record of the atrocities they suffered, to commemorate those who lost their lives in the battle, and to rally support for the unions. During the course of my research, I discovered that, as time went on, the miner songs became less traditional (that is, broadside-esque) and more aggressive. The four I examine are: "The Avondale Mine Disaster" from 1869 in Pennsylvania; "Coal Creek Troubles" from 1891 in Tennessee; "The Ludlow Massacre" by Woody Guthrie, but about a 1914 strike in Colorado; and Aunt Molly Jackson's "I Am A Union Woman" from 1931 in Kentucky. They all are wonderful examples of our nation's rich body of occupational protest songs.

For your enjoyment, here is Woody Guthrie singing "Ludlow Massacre." (I was unable to find a YouTube version without the pictures going on)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDd64suDz1A

Babi Yar Remembrance Day

2010-09-29T08:47:00.003-04:00

Lies

Lying to the young is wrong.
Proving to them that lies are true is wrong.
Telling them
            that God’s in his heaven
and all’s well with the world
                             is wrong.
They know what you mean.
                        They are people too.
Tell them the difficulties
                          can’t be counted,
and let them see
                not only
                        what will be
but see
       with clarity
                   these present times.

Say obstacles exist they must encounter,
sorrow comes,
             hardship happens.
The hell with it.
                 Who never knew
the price of happiness
                      will not be happy.
Forgive no error
                you recognize,
it will repeat itself,
                      a hundredfold
and afterward
             our pupils
will not forgive in us
                      what we forgave.

"Lies" by Yevgeny Yevtushenko, 1952; Translated by Robin Milner-Gulland and Peter Levi (revised)

~ ~ ~

September 29 marks the first day of the Nazi massacre of Jews at Babi Yar. While these original killings lasted three days, and were followed by two years of essentially non-stop murders, 10/29 is set aside as a day of remembrance. Take a moment to listen to the incredibly powerful first movement of Shostakovich's 13th Symphony:

New Music Feature– Nat Evans & "Sunrise, September 18"

2010-09-19T19:51:00.000-04:00

This post begins the long-awaited New Music Feature that I’ve been ranting about for a year now. Thispast weekend, I was able to experience a composition by a composer named Nat Evans called “Sunrise, September 18.” Nat wrote the piecefor a specific site in Seattle, but agreed to let those interested listen tothe piece elsewhere. The music was coordinated with the sunrise; those inattendance began listening 9 minutes before sunrise, and the piece concludedabout 16 minutes after that. The composer himself was gracious enough tocomment on the piece, and I’d like to share his thoughts with you:

"I'm a part of a Zengroup, and in Soto Zen, we sit facing a wall. Each week on Sunday evening thelight has changed since the previous week, and over the course of 40 minutesthe glow of the wall changes as well as the sun sets. Over the years I becameinterested in how we interact with these cycles as a result of sitting eachweek. There is also the tradition in Indian Classical music that certain piecesare to be played at specific times of the day and even specific times of theyear. Thinking about music in this way combined with my own personalexperiences in Zen is where this piece originated, and I decided after mullingit over in my mind for a while that I should just make it happen.

The work was originallyconceived as being site specific to Kite Hill here in Seattle - it's right onthe water and faces east towards the Cascade Mountains...but the concept of'place' soon became irrelevant in my thinking process - I wanted this work tobe as much about the music as it is about sitting in one place long enough tostart to realize all of the different myriad things that are happening atany given moment both in our surroundings and in our minds. The concept ofcoming together to take part in something larger than ourselves is a strongertheme, I suppose, but out of that the importance of place comes into play as wemake the decision as to where we'll take take part. The concept of placeextends through the title as well. The title describes the time of day and whenit's happening, and through that natural 'event' it creates a sense ofpartaking in something, a reason to gather. Ultimately though, one of theexperiences that led to this idea was staring at a wall every week, and mostplaces are more interesting to look at than that, so it really could take placeanywhere! And...I suppose that's why it is...people will be listing in manydifferent places and contexts that are important and significant to them.”

The "before" picture...

In Louisville, a surprisingnumber of us woke up early to share the experience. We went to the Fossil Beds at theFalls of the Ohio State Park; while being in the largest exposed fossil bed inthe world was neat, we were below the visible horizon, so I fear we lost someof the organic nature of the music’s coordination with the sunrise. That beingsaid, it was still a very pleasant experience. Sitting by the river, watchingthe sky get progressively lighter, and enjoying the music made for aninvigorating way to start the day.

I’d like to talk about the“music itself” briefly, with two caveats. First, the piece is designed to bepart of something larger; like the music in an opera, one can only discuss thenotes in relation to that total experience. Second, I only heard thecomposition one time. The piece begins and ends with nature sounds. While I think that these sounds might have been manipulated electronically, they are still rather “pure,” and it is easy to distinguishthem as what they are. At times, they made a compelling counterpoint to the“real-time” nature sounds going on around us, blending aural experiences and shading the line between music and sound. I believe the piece was in 4large sections, consisting more or less of fairly static textures of sustainednotes, with some micro tonality and some electronic manipulation of the sounds.For me, the piece functioned in the space between full attention and subliminalhearing. The sustained textures created at times a wash of sound that was everpresent, but that did not distractme from the larger experience. As such, I feel the music perfectly suited itsdramatic function: it accompanied without overpowering, and it enhanced withouttrying to outdo. It was a sensitive handling of a tricky dramatic subject. It seemed perfectly appropriate to have that music accompany that sunrise, and my strongest impression two days later is of the totality of the moment: music, sunrise, and nature.

The "After" Picture

The composer stipulated that each individual must be listening to thepiece in headphones. I am sure that there are a number of reasons, bothlogistical (noise ordinances, getting electricity for speakers) and musical(more accurate hearing of the electronic manipulation of the musical space) forthis requirement, but it was the only aspect of the piece that I thought wasodd. It managed to create a personal and insular experience in the midst of alarge-group. That could very well have been the point, but I wonder what theexperience would have been like if we had all be hearing from communalspeakers. I hesitate to say that it would have been improved; I simply wonder if the "moment" created by the piece would have extended through the entire group, or if the experience was best internalized in a semi-personal way.

Overall, it was a unique experience that I was very glad to have shared! For those interested, here’s a link to Nat’s website: natevansmusic.com

Hope?

2010-09-10T22:24:00.002-04:00

Flip on your radio and search the stations. What do you hear? I’m willing to bet that, regardless of where you are in this great country, you have just encountered a slew of hideously overproduced pop and/or rap songs, a big dose of rock form the last thirty years, a handful of “country” (the parenthesis are to indicate that, unless you are very lucky, no radio station near you is playing Hank Williams Sr., Waylon Jennings, or George Jones), and one classical station that has a very dedicated following of about 50 or so people (most of which are music professors). Now, venture on over to iTunes and look at the current top selling artists. You see Katy Perry (a Christian-pop star turned bisexual), Enrique Iglesias (who despite his awful music, will always be my hero), and some dude who is, apparently, from Florida (and is also a popular rapper). Considering our country's current trends of musical consumption, I am left to wonder if truly artful music will ever be in the limelight. Although this was initially a rhetorical question that I have recently been asking myself, I just received my answer.

America’s Got Talent, is a popular television show that spends the summer searching for the hottest new act to headline in Vegas and to take home the million-dollar prize. There are magicians, Geek shows, dancers, comedians, and many, many musical acts. As you can imagine, the majority of the musical acts are terrible. And, since three non-musical people serve as judges, it is a wonder that any musician of worth ever makes it through. (Just to clarify for anyone who is too proud to admit they might actually get a kick out of this, the judges pick acts to advance in the early rounds and then their criticism is meant to guide the audience in their voting, which determines admission to the last few rounds. And although I doubt that anyone reading this blog would leave a rude comment correcting me, I will go ahead and acknowledge that Sharon Osborne was Ozzy’s manager and is largely responsible for him having a solo career, although the only times he has ever been tolerable is when Sabbath or Randy Rhodes was there to serve as a distraction).

Last night, the final four acts of the 2010 season were announced: Michael Grimm (whose voice sounds like whatever the lovechild of velour and sandpaper would sound like, and I truly mean this in the best possible way); Jackie Evancho (a wunderkind opera singer, who, despite some breathing issues sounds like an angel); Prince Poppycock (a phenomenal operatic tenor that looks like Mozart, that is, if you were to see Mozart when you had a head full of PCP); and a very cool black-light performance group that goes by the name of Defying Gravity. Yes, despite our nation’s insistence on routinely consuming the worst music possible, we have voted three extremely talented musicians (two of which are classical music) through to the final round. All of this comes on the heels of the 2009 and 2008 seasons, which were also dominated by classical musicians (Barbara Padilla, an opera singer, came in second in 2009 and Neal E. Boyd, yet another opera singer, winning the year before).

What does this say about the way we as Americans consume music? If anything, I think it tells us that despite our pervasive, lowbrow interests, we still treasure the art of music. If this is the case, however optimistic it may seem, then it appears there is still hope. If the masses choose to preserve these sorts of acts over guys with trendy hair cuts that play three chords on a guitar and try to sing like John Mayer, magicians that make trains disappear, adorable dancing children, and dudes who stick foreign objects into their skull, then maybe we are approaching an era when the value of culture will be restored. Or maybe not, what do I know? (I will leave it to John to burst my bubble by delving into the Ardornian philosophy of the devaluation of art through mass production).

Greetings and Introduction

2010-09-07T19:36:00.000-04:00

Greetings to my fellow music aficionados and fellow bloggers. You are now reading this because I have graciously been given the opportunity to periodically share my personal musicological musings with all of you. But before we proceed onto any esoteric or convoluted postulations that I hold, I think a brief introduction is in order. My name is Tyler Fritts and I am originally from eastern Kentucky. In 2007 I earned a Bachelor’s of Arts in General Music from Berea College. In 2010 I completed my Master’s of Music in Music History and Literature from the University of Louisville. My thesis identifies techniques utilized by Luciano Berio for the amalgamation of western art music with various and diverse vernacular musics in Folk Songs (1964). Once uncovered, these techniques aid in understanding the symbiotic interrelationship, as well as the significance of this interrelationship, that is created by the juxtaposition of music and culture.

Currently, I am pursuing a PhD in Musicology/Southern Regional Studies from the University of Memphis. The program at the UofM is an interesting one as it provides a healthy helping of standard historically based musicological rigor while simultaneously emphasizing ethnomusicological principles and practicum. As the name suggests, students of the program concentrate on a popular or vernacular music (and its accompanying culture) prominently associated with the southern United States. I, for example, plan to focus my research efforts on exploring the role of politics in the traditional music of Appalachia. Other students of the program choose to delve more deeply into areas such as the Delta blues, the Memphis recording industry, and the musical evolution of Hank Williams, just to name a few.

Apart from my highfalutin academic pursuits, I have gained practical ethnomusicological experience through my work as a traditional music archivist and as a field researcher. Concerning performance, I have been involved with an African and Latin percussion ensemble, a Balinese gamelan ensemble, and an Irish traditional group. It is my because of my ethno interests (not because of my staggering intellect and uncompromisingly good looks, as I may wish to think) that I have been invited into the Musicological Musings family.

I look forward to offering another perspective on music and the culture that surrounds it. Future posts will include, but will not be limited to, the experience of field research and archival work, reactions to ethnomusicological sources, and the role of music in today’s America.

Cheers,

Tyler

Jacques Attali and "Noise"

2010-08-25T10:32:00.000-04:00

In the interest of being consistent with my blogging, I'll not post for a month, and then post twice in three days. I've been reading Attali's "Noise," and wanted to stew over a few things. [1]

I've studied with a professor who has thought extensively about music according to the ideas of Rene Girard, so I've had a chance to come to terms with perhaps the most disturbing thought in the first two chapters of Attali's book, that music is a simulacrum for ritual murder. That train of thought is another blog post altogether, since agree or disagree, it forces you to consider the nastier aspects of music that most of us don't like to confront.

The thought I want to deal with today comes from the section "Music and Money." Attali states that in either the sense of classical economics or Marxist economics, "the composer of the score is unproductive."[2] Attali explains that someone is productive if their labor "contributes to the accumulation of capital, which creates surplus-value," and that someone is unproductive if their labor "if only of interest to the purchaser for the use-value of its product." A composer is unproductive because not only do they not produce capital, but there is no exchange of use-value. Ignoring the fact that Attali believes that some composers are unsalaried workers since they work on commission (something that obviously not every composer does), there seems a basic economic contradiction in this model when applied to classical musics. A composer is unproductive, since they don't generate wealth; however, for someone to generate wealth "as the employee of someone in the entertainment business," there is almost always a score. So, for wealth to be produced, there needs to be a composition, but the creation of that composition is fundamentally unproductive.

I understand that Attali believes that composers "create wealth in the capitalist mode of production while remaining outside of it," but what about other modes of production?. It was a heavy idea to chew over at 8 in the morning. How does this contradiction change how we think about composers or the act of composing? Should it? Feel free to comment.

[1] I want to clarify that my knowledge of Marxist thought comes from reading Adorno and Wikipedia, which might not be the best foundation for critical understanding.

[2] All quotations refer to pgs 38-39.

First Day of School

2010-08-23T11:13:00.004-04:00

To nearly everyone who reads this, today (or last week) marks the start of another academic year, and the start of my first year on the *other* side of the desks. Although I am partially envious of my friends who have gone on to their PhD programs, I have a few friends who are also teaching for the first time this semester. I'm hoping that we can trade ideas (and horror stories) (and funny stories), and that I can learn enough about the terminal degree process that there aren't a lot of surprises when I get there. If anyone wants to contribute a post about their activities this semester, either teaching or learning, drop one of us a line. The next post will probably be from Tyler, the newest regular contributor to our blog. Until then, I hope everyone has a good first day! I'll leave you with a great cover of Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic."

Completion of "A Career"

2010-07-20T18:13:00.000-04:00

As some of you may know, I recently completed my thesis on Dmitri Shostakovich's Thirteenth Symphony. I quote from Laurel Fay's Shostakovich: A Life:

"In his score, Shostakovich dated the completion of the movements... The final movement of the symphony, "A Career," was dated 20 July 1962, a date that... Shostakovich would commemorate for the rest of his life." (pg. 229)

In honor of the man and his music, and in the spirit of continuing the celebration, posted below is the Yevtushenko poem Shostakovich set. I plan on listening to the movement and spending a moment or two reflecting on the text. As Shostakovich said, "Every morning, instead of morning prayers, I reread–well, recite from memory–two poems by Yevtushenko, "Boots" and "A Career." "Boots" is conscience. "A Career" is morality. One should not be deprived of conscience. To lose conscience is to lose everything. And conscience needs to be instilled from earliest childhood." (pg. 229)

Career

The clergy maintained that Galileo
Was a wicked and senseless man.

(Galileo was senseless.)
But, as time demonstrated,
He who is senseless is much wiser.

A fellow scientist of Galileo's age
Was no less wise than Galileo.
He knew that the earth revolved.
But - he had a family.

And he, stepping into a carriage with his wife,
Having accomplished his betrayal,
Considered himself advancing his career,
Whereas he undermined it,

For his assertion of our planet
Galileo faced the risk alone
And became truly great.

Now this
To my mind, this is a true careerist!

Thus - salute to the career!
When the career is similar
To Shakespeare and Pasteur,
Newton and Tolstoy,
And Tolstoy.
Leo?

Leo!
Why was mud flung at them?
Talent is talent, brand them as one may.

Those who cursed them are forgotten.
But the accursed are remembered well,
All those who yearned for the stratosphere,
The doctors who perished fighting cholera,
They were pursuing a career!

I take as an example their careers.

I believe in their sacred belief.
Their belief is my courage.
I pursue my career
By not pursuing it!

The State of the Blog

2010-07-09T10:58:00.000-04:00

Given recent internet happenings, like the discontinuation of Dial M and recent posts on amusicology regarding the musicological blogosphere, discussing the past, present, and future of musicology blogs is now high fashion. Never wanting to be left out of a trend, I'll add my two cents worth.

Thus far, the blog has been a disappointment. High hopes about starting conversations have been thus far unfulfilled, and our reader count is negligible (to the point of the tragi-comic). After spending much time thinking about what can still be hoped for in this project, and a serious reality check as I taught my first university level class (what free time?), it is time to come to a decision about the future of MusicologicalMusings. I can't speak to my partner, but I intend to keep blogging, with two big caveats. It will now be (even more) back burner, at least until public interest or conversation spikes. And, I am now planning on focusing almost exclusively on new music.

I have a lot of music from a lot of good friends that I believe people should hear, and I've been gathering scores and music for a few months now. As time permits and I assimilate their ideas, I will be sharing them here, along with whatever music I can cajole them into posting. My ideas about contemporary music have changed throughout my graduate work, a side-effect of attending the school that gives out the Grawemeyer Award. Moreover, I want to do something that I consider important, and that pushes the borders of what musicology is. Given that I'm using a relatively new medium for my ideas, I feel that my ideas should reflect that medium. I want to push myself and you all past the slightly comfortable boundaries we all establish, and move into the frontier of aesthetic judgements and artistic decisions. Absorbing and writing about contemporary music seems the best way to achieve this. I'm hoping that you'll all join me, as I'm positive there is much to be learned about our musical thought in the process.

Boy Scouts

2010-05-15T15:37:00.002-04:00

Apologies for the long hiatus, but in between a publication, conferences, and finishing my thesis, I was sorely pressed for time. Activity on the blog will not subside over summer (I've got all school year for that), but will consist of my long-anticipated ongoing feature on contemporary music. Before that begins, I'd like to take this opportunity to talk on a more personal subject. As some of you might know, this year marks the 100th anniversary of the Boy Scouts of America.

Whatever my personal disagreements with some of their policies, as an Eagle Scout, I was able to participate in numerous activities that I otherwise would not have been able to, and have experiences that have shaped me for the rest of my life. Outside of the character development, which is obviously important, the leadership opportunities were invaluable. Having to take charge, get things done, meet deadlines, and deal with conflict at an early age were all things that I believed helped me, but more than that, I think that the type of organization that can give young people the chance to be in those positions deserves to be around at least another 100 years. Too often, people shy away from giving youth real opportunities to lead, to be out front, and to make mistakes. However, such opportunities are crucial to developing people who can be leaders later in life.

On that note, it takes a certain kind of crazy to trust a 15 year old with anything, and I'd like to thank all of those who took that chance. The best way I know to repay them is to return the favor, which brings me to the point of this post. As part of acknowledging my debt to both my leaders and the organization, I'm filling out an application to be a merit badge counselor. For those unfamiliar with merit badges, the BSA has a great site here that explains the program, what a counselor is, etc. There are a wide variety of merit badges, and although I am only qualified for one (nuclear science music), many of you might be able to help out in additional ways.

If I have boys, I'll certainly encourage them to do scouts. Until then, this is a great way for me to start paying back a group that gave me so much, and a fantastic chance for people who have never been involved in scouting to help an organization that certainly deserves it!

Sound Installations from Composers at U of L

2010-02-24T14:00:00.001-05:00

Last week, I spent an hour and a half hanging different colored airplanes from the ceiling between the two wings of the music school. It provided an opportunity to think about the sound scape that I was helping install, about the nature of art in space in particular, and about the art consumption habits of music school students. I'm not going to discuss the installations themselves, I'll leave that for the composers, James Young and Leah Sproul Pulatie, to post comments and explain (and also link to any photos or videos they have).

The first thought I had was how nice it was to be helping create something. I am not in any way trying to take credit for any of the ideas or more than a small pittance of the work involved. I simply mean that, despite the fact that I spend most of my day studying music, but very little time making any of my own. It was nice to feel how a composer must feel, as they bring something genuinely new into the world. Despite all logistical and reception problems, regardless of whether or not anyone in the world likes the work, creation is still important. Both installations took inordinate amounts of work, and both will be up around a month, and then will probably never be seen again. The courage to do that work for such a (seemingly, in this late capitalist consumer culture) little material reward is remarkable. I'd do well to remember this, and the small taste of how it feels, as I go on to teach and critique.

The second thought I had was about these works, in their spaces. Both installations were designed for a specific space. Both are spaces that I see nearly every day, and never think of. What I've found matters to me the most regarding these installations is the fact that now, I notice and think of these spaces. It's not merely that there is art happening in them. It is my awareness being broadened, forced to (re-) incorporate marginalized areas that I had before not thought of, areas which will forever be changed (even after the sculptures are taken down) in my mind because of the presence of these installations. I've found that this thinking is more marked with Jame's installation, because of the nature of the space. It is a transitional space, a way of getting from one arrival to another. If anything, it is normally seen as a nuisance, as a space that needs to be traversed before "more" can happen. Now, I am conscious of every step I take, and even find myself lingering in this transitory space, a space I would have no other reason to remain in, to take in more of the installation. I also find myself thinking more about similar spaces I see everyday and pay no mind to.

My third thought involves how students in music school, who will be in one sense of the word professional artists, received the installation of the sculpture. I understand how it could be annoying to have the walkway closed off, as it forces someone to take time out of their day in order to detour, and I don't honestly know how I would have felt about it if I had been in a bad mood (or not known the composer). I heard a LOT of complaining, which, inconvenience aside, is almost inexcusable. It would seem that, as future professional artists, each student here would be trying to consume as much as possible, if for no other reason than because they are curious. As I learned as I talk, write, and teach about music that I love, and as I ask others for music they love, they are a terrifyingly small number of practicing musicians who are actively listening, and that alarms me very much.

Music and Vision

2010-02-10T23:06:00.010-05:00

Let us explore a hypothetical:

Assume that you are seeing a live performance of the classic Miles Davis album “Kind of Blue” performed by the original musicians,* exactly how it sounds on the album. You experience this performance in two locations (completely identical performances both times), Blue Note Jazz Club in Greenwich Village and Rose Hall at the Jazz at Lincoln Center complex. To try and create as close to ceteris paribus conditions as possible, let us also assume that any of the ideological, acoustical, and historical material associated with both localities are neutralized, leaving just the music and the visuals. I think you know where I am going with this, the experience of the music would be different. The visual experiences of these localities would work symbiotically with the music in a parallel (identical?) way to music and film.

I understand that the last assertion is a little contentious. The visuals in film are projected two-dimensional images, framed within a set of conventions that allows the music to, at the same time, exist both separate (in that it is does not have to be part of the diegesis) and simultaneous with the image. This allows the music to create a metaphorical relationship with the image; a dialectic between image and music that act on each other creating a synthesis. This is what Michel Chion terms audio-vision, very succinctly summarized by Phil Ford in his review of Michael Long’s book as being, “compounds of sounds, pictures, and words—virtual collections of audiovisual memes assembled in spectators’ minds. The items within these collections are of ever-shifting and indeterminate kind and number; their individual meanings depend on their relations to one another, and those mutual relationships are in constant flux.”

Though a concert hall is typically a static visual (real life experiences of a concert can be visually more dynamic than some film, for example arena rock), the relationship remains the same, or at least similar. Our primary focus in the hypothetical is the music; the imagery is peripheral in our mind. However, in most films the image is in the fore with the music as “background.” This is a very important point that I do not want to just dismiss. In film, even if the image is a static black screen, the music is always perceived as commenting on the image, otherwise it would just be a recording.** In a concert the imagery is affecting our perception of the music.*** Despite this inversion and inequality of roles, there is still a dialectic relationship in which music and visuals interact, changing our perception of both.

I believe we should further explore this relationship vis-à-vis daily life in the 21^st century. From birth, individuals are inundated with audiovisual material from films, television, and increasingly the internet. In addition, ipod culture has made it possible for individuals to quite literally provide a soundtrack to their everyday life. Whereas in the early 20^th century, framing devices, such as film title music, were needed to “provide the accommodative imaginary space in which a view-auditor recalculates the relationship between ‘real’ sensory input and the interior envisioning required for successful reception of a filmic environment” (Long 34), in the 21^st century, viewers no longer need these framing devices to bridge that gap; blurring the line between the real and the imagined. This blurring is furthered by video games and other virtual environments where the individual takes on the persona of a character on screen, becoming fully engrossed into an imaginary diegesis.

Obviously, this is nothing more than some preliminary thoughts, and it may be either totally unoriginal or (for lack of a better word) bogus, however, I think there may be an under-explored intersection between music and vision here that could lead to profound insights into how we understand both.

* I could use an example with musicians that are still alive but it doesn’t really matter, besides I love imagining this possibility.

** This point is brought up by either Gorbmann or Chion, I can’t remember at the moment, but the important point to acknowledge is that it is not a completely equal relationship.

*** Music dramas may complicate this understanding.

Graduate Orals

2010-01-24T11:05:00.001-05:00

Hello fellow U-of-Lers,

during one of my numerous talks with Dr. Christensen this semester, we discussed the oral exam we have to take before we can graduate. I know that they posted an announcement about "practice" sessions Friday (and if someone has those and could comment to remind us all, that would be great), but here is what I've found out...

My impression was that the purpose of grad orals (at UofL, I'm not speaking categorically, although it would be interesting to know someone else's experience) is to fill in holes and get us ready for teaching/ the next step. Following are some sample questions, and I hope you'll forgive any unclear passages, as I was writing these on a post-it as fast as I could:

-what are you going to do next year (future plans), and how did you prepare for that/ what project/course gave you the start for that?

-what's the most impt thing you've learned and how could you apply it to the future?

-discuss thesis (or culminating graduate project) in a very brief way

-what course/event has lead to critical juncture in my thinking?

[These next are more specific for me and my thesis work, but could give some direction for the rest of you as to what to expect:]

development of symphonies, text and music in symphonic form

form, history of genre, where it took place in history, composer, cultural mileau in which it took place, contemporary composers/works

I don't know how valuable this will be to anyone, but this next nugget will be. Since I've been a student for so long, I have quite an ingrained "test anxiety" reflex. I got the clear impression that I was not something to be worried about or dread. Basically, as long as you are clear, concise, and reasonably intelligent, you should do find. And after two years of graduate work, it's nice to hear that!

New Year, New Ideas

2010-01-11T13:57:00.000-05:00

I hope that this finds you in good health and warm weather! (I'll take one or the other). Since it's both a new year and a new decade, this seems like an auspicious time to let you know about some of my plans for the blog:

–a cross-blog interaction. The details are still being worked out, so I'll refrain from mentioning topic, participants, etc just now. I do hope that you will all get involved, as one of the perpetual goals of this blog is to encourage conversation, especially among people who otherwise would be unable to share ideas.

–a long-term study of analysis and value judgement (those hardcore musicologists among you will recognize the name of Dahlhaus's monograph). I want to investigate what makes people think music is good or not. Notice that I did not say "what makes music good," as I am enough of a realist to understand the difficulty of that question, and it honestly interests me less than why people believe the music is good. I hope to involve several of my composer friends; as composers have a different technical understanding, and a different way of listening (as they have to be able to identify passages that "work" or not, and determine why), I hope that they will shed some light on this topic.

–a long-term survey of people's musical perceptions. Several of you will be receiving facebook requests to answer some questions for me, both about your listening habits in general, and as applied to a couple short pieces/songs (and if you're not on facebook, please drop me a line if you'd like to participate!). This line of inquiry is part of my perpetual fascination with what people are hearing and what meanings they are constructing from the music, but it also has practical pedagogical applications. As I begin to prepare for teaching this summer and fall, I believe that understanding how a "typical" listener perceives and processes music will be invaluable.

As you can see, I am hoping to start more interaction and conversation, and am hoping to pose some general (although by no means simple!) questions: how do we listen? How do we assign value? How do we decide what we like to listen to? How do we convey these ideas?

Looking forward to this year with you!

In Offense of Christmas Music

2009-12-09T11:09:00.000-05:00

At the risk of being labeled the world's biggest Scrooge, I will come right out and say that I don't like Christmas music.* Sure, Trans-Siberian Orchestra is good, and anything Frank Sinatra ever touched turned to gold, but that's about as far as I'll take it. It's not the repetition or mass appeal of Christmas music that bothers me. It annoys me, but I fancy myself enough a populist to not make a value judgement about the music in that way.

My problem with the music is the way that I typically consume it- unwillingly. Starting at Thanksgiving (and earlier every year, it seems), the airwaves and shopping centers play Christmas music constantly. I know that when I go "home for the holidays" (which was on the N*SYNC Christmas album, I believe), it will be a ubiquitous fixture of the house, almost as much as the trees or lights. My objection finally got a voice yesterday, when we were discussing the music and ideas of Canadian environmental composer R. Murray Schafer. His philosophy is that music can be any sound, but that sound/music become "noise" when they are unwanted, like the sound of someone opening a candy at a "classical" concert, or the sound of an airplane in the woods. To me, who genuinely does not want to listen to Christmas music, the genre becomes noise. While I agree with Brian that serious study can occur about the subject (and while I am equally surprised that it hasn't, perhaps because of its pervasive nature in our culture today?), it won't be undertaken by me.

* As much as I would like to make a distinction between Christmas carols, popular Christmas songs, and newly composed songs with Christmas themes, I don't often see such a distinction being made by those who play or sell or program Christmas music.

In Defense of Christmas Music

2009-11-26T10:23:00.008-05:00

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Of course, today also marks another significant holiday tradition: open season on Christmas music. Turn your radio to the 24-hour Christmas station and don’t touch the dial for the next month.

I must admit that I broke the Christmas seal a little early this year. Yesterday, I was overwhelmed by the Christmas bug, and my immediate response was to seek out the sonic equivalent of being wrapped in a warm blanket sitting by the

fireside, otherwise known as Christmas music.

If the thought of 24-hour Christmas music stations give you a feeling akin to

fingernails on a chalkboard, not to worry, there is still hope of converting you into a Christmas music lover by the end of the season, I will be trying my best. I must make clear, however, that I in no way mean this with any religious connotations, in fact, with apologies to Bill O’Reilly, I see Christmas as almost entirely a secular holiday.

At the mention of a Christmas album, it seems that the obligatory response from any “real” music lover is to give a roll of the eyes and a haughty laugh, “Of course, everyone knows that these highly commercial “sell-out” albums by otherwise distinguished artists don’t actually count as part of their oeuvre.” And yet, they exist, and in very high numbers at that. These works are apart of the soundscape of nearly every public space for an entire month each year; from Starbucks to elevators they are virtually inescapable. Despite this ubiquity and cultural prominence, a search for scholarly studies of 20^th-century Christmas music in the UB library catalog and JSTOR brought up almost no relevant sources. There was one book, Publishing Glad Tidings: Essays on Christmas Music, however, this was much more concerned with traditional hymnody than Christmas music in popular genres. I am sure I have overlooked some studies because I cannot believe that this subject is as overlooked as my futile searching would imply. However, even if I have missed something, my guess is that a serious ethnographic study of popular Christmas music would receive the same condescending response that has been given to Daniel Goldmark’s studies of cartoon music; an amused chuckle, but no serious consideration.

I promise I will eventually post the rest of my thoughts on AMS, however, it will likely be after the end of the semester. For the next few weeks I will be posting some “musicological musings” on Christmas music and its role in society, as well as some reviews of great, and not so great, Christmas albums (just listened to Bob Dylan’s, will probably post something later tonight). I need some outlet to escape from the stress of the end of term scramble to finish writing papers, Christmas music musings seems as good as any.

China and Facebook and Criticism, oh my!

2009-11-17T09:35:00.001-05:00

Despite my growing disenchantment with NPR's music website, it's still a great way to kill time. I just read a story that was interesting, but reveals why my disenchantment has grown. The article is about the growing punk scene in China, and there are some nice quotes (including one that reveals a bit of how Chinese popular musicians consume American popular music, from Bob Dylan and Woody Gutherie (!) to the Ramones), but the article does not consider what seems to me the obvious ramification of the article: China has a growing punk scene?!? Does the author understand the political and social ramifications of this? The Chinese government clearly does not, else they would have nipped this in the bud. The article also does a terrible job of contextualizing the scene, saying China has "the fastest growing" everything else, making it seem that punk music is the predominant style and that those darn Chinese beat us to the punch yet again. However, by their own admission, the musicians realize they are 20-30 years out of date. Can you really have "the fastest growing" scene of a trend that stopped dominating 20-30 years ago?

I also wanted to talk a bit about facebook. I've joined the dreaded menace, as that's how the Music and the Written Word Conference is organizing travel and lodging arrangments, which makes a good deal of sense. I want to comment on two things. The first is what facebook is doing to the concept of friendship. I have about 25 facebook friends, which is roughly the number I would consider to be my friends in the "real world." Yet, I see these people who have 400 or 700 or 1000+ "friends," and know by their own admission they don't even KNOW some of those people, much less have a "friendship" in the traditional sense of the word with them. Maybe its symptomatic of our growing isolationism (ironically* because of a technology designed to keep us closer together), an issue others smarter than I have touched on and that I won't rehash. But, those who use facebook would do well to consider its effects on their perceptions and labels of "friends."

Labels are my second point of criticism. I spent a lot of time procrastinating reading peoples' "info" yesterday. It was telling, as with facebook, we can label ourselves, in effect construct our identities, as we WANT to be seen and percieved. Granted, that tells one almost as much as the actual "info" itself, and is a suprisingly revelatory feature. However, I think this too is symptomatic of our technological age, as we spend time carefully constructing these somewhat virtual identities for ourselves, yet sparse time realizing them in a non-virtual world. Just some things to think about.

* This is not *actually* ironic.

2009-11-13T17:31:00.000-05:00

I know I promised more for today, but I completely forgot how much a full day of papers takes out of you. In addition, I have an analysis project looming over my head that I want to try to nip away at. So, I will be doing a serious of posts giving my thoughts about the conference in the following couple weeks.

2009-11-13T07:16:00.003-05:00

Time's 50 best inventions of the year. Check this one out: "The Biotech Stradivarius"

AMS Conference: Philadelphia (Day 1)

2009-11-12T22:25:00.003-05:00

First day of the conference today, and like the diligent, but broke, musicologists we are, a group of us left Buffalo at 5:45 this morning so that we could make it to Philly in time for the first session. The conversation in the car ride down was a wonderful experience. Especially for someone who: (a) is new to a department; (B) never tires of erudite, intelligent, sophisticated, highbrow, scholarly, analytic (“pretentious, bombastic, and overly analytic) conversations; ( c) probably spends way too much time in the library (books are good for reading, not so much for conversation)* I’m sure most musicologists, or academics in general, can relate to how nice it feels to have a long conversation with people that share the same passion as you, as a release from long hours with a nose in a book.

I was able to sit through two papers**, one of which was interesting (“From the Lower East Side to Catfish Row: “Strawberries!” as a cultural mediation in Porgy and Bess and Street Scene.” - Bruce D. McClung). There is certainly a link between these two scenes, and McClung raises interesting questions about the dramatic setting of the scenes, as well as the two scenes’ intertextual references. However, I did not quite follow him all the way to the final connection he makes of the “strawberry” reference: [from the abstract] “In both operas, strawberries symbolize sexual transgression and recall Aschenbach’s purchase of the fruit from a street vendor during his pursuit of Tadzio in Death of Venice, Iago’s comparison of Desdemona’s alleged loss of virginity to her white handkerchief ‘spotted with strawberries’ in Othello, and the legend of Venus weeping over the body of Adonis with her heart-shaped tears falling to earth to create voluptuous fruit itself.” A lot of the “question” and answer session were suggestions of more songs or artworks with strawberry references. Now I may be wrong, but I find it pretty unconvincing that either Gershwin, Weill, or any of their audience would have even made any of these connections. That is all I really have the mental energy to write about right now, but I would like to emphasize that I really did enjoy this paper, and found it to be a very well done presentation.

I apologize for the fragmentation and general sloppy writing of this post, I am quite tired right now (I know, excuses, excuses..). I just wanted to get a post up on the first day, and also get some of my thoughts down.

Expect more tomorrow.

* Going back and reading this last sentence, it comes off as really sad. I swear, I love the work I am doing in the library, and at no time this semester have I questioned why I am sitting in a library all day. This is probably still considered “sad,” but more in a losery way, which I’m ok with.

** I want to blog about my experience at the conference, but I have already decided, out of respect for our colleagues, that I will not name or comment on any papers that I felt were not very good.

A few thoughts on the new "A Christmas Carol"

2009-11-09T14:48:00.015-05:00

Over the weekend I went and saw the Robert Zemeckis adaptation of "A Christmas Carol" in IMAX 3D.* I am not sure the world necessarily needed another film adaptation of the novel (after the beloved classic, "A Diva's Christmas Carol," it was hard to imagine the subgenre of Christmas Carol movies reaching a higher plain of artistic achievement), but Zemeckis' version provides possibly the most visually stunning version to date.** The exposition of the film, with its sweeping panoramas of 19th century London, are absolutely breathtaking. Even the scenes of the film that don't work on a dramatic level, still provide beautifully rendered artistic imagery. I don't know if I would say this was a good film, but for the reason just stated above I would highly recommend seeing it in the theaters (IMAX 3D if you have the opportunity). The film has gotten mixed reviews, but film critics also generally aren't very good at approaching blockbusters geared towards children.***

I decided to write a post about the film because Alan Silversti made a choice when composing its score that I felt largely diminished the quality of the film, and to be honest, was really just plain annoying. I am referring to the pervasive use of Christmas carols throughout the score. The arrangement of "Joy to the World" that opens the preview, is a very typical example of his treatment of these carols, especially during the ending of the film. Now on paper, basing a lot of the score to a Christmas movie with the title "A Christmas Carol," on Christmas carols sounds like a good idea, but in practice, it is just ends up sounding incredibly hackneyed and corny. Now I will admit that even the ending of the novel is sappy; Scrooge sees the error in his ways, becomes a completely new person, and all is well in the world. But what Zemeckis and Silversti do with the score is pour more sap on top of the already sappy ending of the story. The audience is presented with the film version of a double bacon cheese burger on two Krispy Kreme donuts. It's just too much for any sane person to handle.

I will give Silversti some credit. Though he may not be known as a very original film composer, he has a very good dramatic sense and generally does a good job scoring films. If you look through his film credits, it is amazing the sheer number of scores he has composed for blockbuster films (recently, G.I. Joe, the Night at the Museum series, as well as the Mummy trilogy). His most well known scores, "Forrest Gump" and "Back to the Future," are not likely to be the topic of any scholarly papers anytime soon (not that this should be the criteria for aesthetic worth), but they are still very enjoyable, and serve their particular films quite well. This is an important point. Musicians and musicologist often do not like to admit it, but the ultimate aesthetic criteria of a film score has nothing to do with how we judge Western art music, but is simply how well the music serves the film (It is interesting that Copland in his book What to Listen for in Music, suggests the same aesthetic despite the relative youth of the industry, and his background approach to concert music). Film is the ultimate collaborative art, and unless it is done for a particular purpose, the score is supposed to work more on a subconscious level and should not really draw attention away from the narrative. Most of the score to "A Christmas Carol" fills this role quite well, but the carols draw the soundtrack out of the subconscious and into our full attention because of their familiar nature. It may have been the intention of Silversti and Zemeckis, but the score at the end of the film gives off more the feeling of a sing-along than anything else. For some versions of this story this could have been appropriate, but the ending of the Zemeckis Christmas Carol, and the movie in general, does not really call for such a score, in fact, it necessitates something much more subtle.

This post is getting a little long, and I need to get back to my school work so I will try and bring it to a close. The important point is that this was not a light-hearted Disney adaptation of the Dickens' novel, but really a serious and faithful (the dialogue is almost entirely verbatim from the novel), though still highly original attempt at translating the classic novel onto the screen through a 21-st century artistic medium. It is unfortunate that the score of the film did not mirror this attempt.

I will leave you with one last thought. With the exception of Bruce Springsteen's song for "The Wrestler," composing an original song for the end credits of a film (especially if Andrea Bocelli will be the performer) is a really bad idea. I usually like to sit through the credits, but I couldn't get out of the theater fast enough when I started to hear a song with lyrics that related to the film I just saw. I felt like I immediately needed to take a shower to cleanse myself of such filth.

* Just a little note about myself, I love going to movies in IMAX. It has the wonderful ability to make even not very good movies an enjoyable experience. "Monsters vs. Aliens" is a perfect example of this phenomenon. However, for this reason it can sometimes be difficult to apply any sort of critical criteria to a viewing, because the IMAX film experience differs in many ways from a more traditional theater experience.

** IMDB shows 25 exact matches for title and 13 partial matches when you search A Christmas Carol, though, I checked and didn't even see "A Muppet Christmas Carol" among the results, so those numbers are lower than the actual amount of adaptations that have been made of Charles Dickens' novel. There are even more if you count films like "The Grinch who Stole Christmas," that are more loosely based on the novel.

*** I wanted to link to an article I read recently, but couldn't find it. It was on the dark nature of a lot of children's stories. This is a trend that goes back through the Grimm brothers, but it very much applies to this film. If I were 5, I wouldn't be able to sleep for at least two weeks after seeing this movie.

Introductory Post (At Last)

2009-11-08T23:32:00.007-05:00

I suppose in John’s Introductory post when he said, “some of whom will be introducing themselves and their interests over the coming days and weeks,” the “some of whom” would be me. As you can plainly see, it did not take days and weeks, but rather months for me to get around to writing my first post. I am sure many of the potential readers of this blog can relate to the initial shock, and subsequent adjustment period, one faces when first entering graduate studies. As I am now fairly well adjusted (or at least until final papers are due), I should be able to post with some regularity.

All of that being said, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Brian Holland and I am a first semester masters student at the University at Buffalo. As the title of this blog would suggest, I am pursuing a degree in the field of historical musicology. My research interests are wide ranged, but generally interdisciplinary in nature (basically anything music and ___). It is probably for this reason that music in film is the area of our field that has held my attention the longest.

I have to admit, this blog was entirely John’s brainchild, I was just fortunate enough to be invited to take part. He made all the initial decisions about the topic and scope of the blog by himself, but I was very pleased when I saw that he decided on an open-ended and inclusive approach. Obviously, given that our lives are consumed by our studies, the vast majority of our thoughts and ideas will concern the field of music history, but it is nice to have the freedom to post on any topic that may come to mind (fair warning, when I am not thinking about music, food usually dominates my thoughts).

I would like to end this first post by sharing some of my observations about the phenomena of blogging, as they will most likely shape my approach. I think what differentiates a blog from an online diary, news feed, or message board is the perspective of the individual looking out at a narrow part of the world. A diary is from the perspective of the individual, but it typically looks inward and is really just written for that person (others may read the diary, but I see it more as voyeurism than anything else). News feeds and online forums may look outward at topics, both large and small, but they are not defined through the lens of a single person. Essentially, reading a blog is a practice in empathy (assuming it is approached with an open mind). The blogger provides readers with their perspective on a topic. This perspective is shaped by the knowledge, personal experiences, interests, and biases of the blogger, and thus provides a view of a topic that is unique to that individual.

Though this is a blog and not a message board, there is a reason why all good blogs have comment sections. It is my hope that through our posts and the comments of the readers (underscore in your mind with appropriately sappy music), it may be possible to create a dynamic environment in which new ideas and thoughts are proposed, and all parties involved take part in a conversation that challenges our assumptions and fosters new ways to look at issues in the field, and possibly the world at large.

Now that I have provided enough sap to make maple syrup, I will bring this first post to an end. I am looking forward to posting with some regularity, and possibly some live-blogging from AMS this week in Philly.

2009-11-04T17:30:00.000-05:00

Continuing with a string of nonsensical, borderline pointless blog posts, here is something to keep in mind if you haven't found me a Christmas present yet.

Pre-Concert Conversation

2009-10-30T22:16:00.000-04:00

Bored? Lonely? Miss me? Don't have plans for Halloween? Genuinely interested in Shostakovich's visit to Louisville 50 years ago? Then do I have a link for you! WUOL, our friendly neighborhood NPR station (well, one of them) has provided for download the pre-concert conversation I took part in a few weeks ago. Enjoy!

NPR and Criticism

2009-10-25T17:40:00.003-04:00

Not long ago, I read an article criticizing NPR's "Top Songs of the Year (So Far) list for being too "white." The author contends that "it's not that NPR doesn't like black music. It merely maintains a strict preference for black music that few actual living African-Americans listen to." Maybe so, maybe not. In my opinion, anyone who genuinely wants to keep a pulse on "black" music (more or less defined by the article in terms of what it's not: white, indie, guitar-driven, college educated, alive, young, local, and hip/fresh/non-retro) doesn't use NPR. Listening to NPR for current trends in rap/ hip-hop makes less sense than buying The New Yorker strictly for the cartoons. And I can see some merits in the author's point that "In matters of musical taste, everyone has a God-given right to provincialism and conservatism, even those NPR listeners who consider themselves cosmopolitan and liberal," although I think forcing yourself to consume music you do not like simply to be "cosmopolitan and liberal" is asinine.

And I was doing well even through the comparison of the NPR "Best Music..." list with the fact that "...in 2009, the No. 1 song on the Billboard charts has been by a black or female artist—or by groups featuring both blacks and whites or men and women—a total of 41 out of 42 weeks." What got my dander up was the article's snippy "Who are the progressives again—the public radio crowd or the Top 40 great unwashed?" So, "progressive" equals "listening to music that prominently features black or female artists?" And the "great unwashed," because of their support of this music (isn't that what the chart statistics are proving, support?), are more progressive? Breaking "progressive" into such simplistic (and borderline racist) terms does no one any good. More over, it trivializes the complexities of production and consumption of race in music into antagonistic binaries. I'm not going to defend NPR and what they chose to conceive of "black" music, but in their exposure of non- mainstream "black" artists, they inform their listeners about the entire spectrum of "black" music, a spectrum that takes far more into account that Top 40 hits.

However, I will criticize NPR for its endorsement of Bernstein's recording of Shostakovich's 5th Symphony. And, for its sales pitch: "In the remarkable finale, Shostakovich achieves one of the greatest coups of his symphonic career: a "victorious" closer that drives home the expected message and at the same time makes an entirely different point — the real one." This whole trope of Shostakovich study was begun with the fraudulent memoir "Testimony," and was continued through a slew of noxious, pseudo-musicological "interpretations" that I won't even mention by name on my blog. This trope persists, in program and liner notes and pre-concert lectures (last weekend I saw a legitimate conductor spew some of this same nonsense before Shostakovich's 10th Symphony), and most frustratingly, in legitimate scholarly publications by scholars who did not critically analyze their sources. It's a serious historiographic problem, and one that I will return to soon.

"..An entirely different point- the real one." Please. Aside of being elitist and overly dramatic, and ignoring for sake of time the hermeneutic implications of such statements, sticking to such an interpretation with Bernstein's recording, BERNSTEIN'S!, the fastest one I have ever heard **, is mindless. The tempo at the end is so fast, so stereotypically reliant on traditional symphonic gestures of closure that the possibility for other interpretations doesn't even exist... and that does a huge disservice to Shostakovich and intelligent consumers of art music.

** Compare Bernstein's (8:53) with Rostropovich's (12:04)

R.I.P. Nikolai

2009-10-24T17:24:00.001-04:00

Today, my beloved fish Nikolai passed on into the Great Fishbowl in the Sky. He had some kind of parasite, and had been ill for some time, but the medicine did not help. In his memory, here is a link to my favorite story from his namesake, Nikolai Gogol.

I will return from mourning tomorrow with a series of posts criticizing NPR music, and criticizing those who criticize NPR.

Random Thoughts

2009-10-13T20:21:00.004-04:00

I've been busy preparing for my pre-concert talk (Saturday at 7 pm before the Louisville Orchestra concert, if you're in town!), so this will be a bit fragmentary:-I got spam the other day in Russian. This is no doubt because of the web searching I've been doing for my thesis, but it was still nice. Of course, now I'm getting junk mail in two languages, but that's beside the point.

-Mozart's Piano Concerto #21 in A major has not only a hilarious cadenza (I was laughing during the concert), but the closing theme (I believe) of the final movement definitely sounds like the beginning of "Dixie." I asked everyone around me if they heard it too (whether I knew them or not), and it was unanimous. Obviously the song wasn't written yet when Mozart wrote the concerto, but it's still funny.

-University of California Press is having an online book sale, and they're including works that are on my "list of things you need to read." If anyone is interested and does not have a coupon, there are directions on their website on how to procure one.

-It's definitely fall when I start wanting to watch James Bond movies, so happy fall!

-My Adorno has not arrived yet. Neither has my new translation of the Benjamin, which is now titled "The Work of Art in the Age of its Mechanical Reproducibility." This title does not roll right off the tongue.

-This has so many issues I can't go into it now, but it is definitely food for thought!

(More or Less) Live Blogging of Dudamel Concert

2009-10-08T23:14:00.008-04:00

This evening, NPR had a broadcast Gustavo Dudamel's concert with the LA Phil, in a program of Mahler Symphony No. 1 and a new John Adams piece. While I do not know how worthwhile it will be, I am going to present my thoughts in more or less real-time, as part of my ongoing investigation into how people listen.

All the pre-concert talking heads are dancing around one central issue: is Dudamel this generation's Lenny Bernstein? Every account I have ever heard of both conductors sounds the same: charismatic, enthusiastic, engages non-traditional demographics. I suppose time will tell... A good friend saw him live last year in Italy, so I have it in dependable authority how genuinely stunning it is to see him live.

New Adams- 3 movements, first 2 attacca. Why do I love every Adams piece I hear (like Cleveland doing "Guide to Strange Places," which is for some reason not available on commercial recording)? I love how Adams integrates the piano into his orchestral textures. And something new for saxophonists! This is not as good as the other famous homagé to the City of Lights, "LA Woman" by the Doors, but still good (I kid). Some of his orchestral textures sound so much like band music, and I don't know why... the use of the winds? Or maybe its the scoring of the winds, massed in triadic clumps... hard to tell. This is VERY different from the last piece Adams wrote for Disney Hall and the LA Phil, "The Dharma at Big Sur," which is one of my favorite pieces of music (a concerto for 5-string electric violin? Sign me up!). What does it say about Dudamel and the Orchestra's decision to have Adams as their composer-in-residence. I clearly enjoy Adams' music, but it's a very Disney decision, safe and not too threatening. Of course, the NY Phil is commissioning new works this season too, so maybe this is a trend? Till people realize, like they did back in the '50s with the Louisville Orchestra commissioning project, that you get a lot of shit that way too...

This piece sounds like "typical" Adams that I've heard over the last 3 years... driving rhythms and changing meters, primarily sonorous textures, extended consonant harmonies, expanded instrumentation, etc. It (so far) lacks the darker bite of "...Strange Places." Oh, great sonority going into what I imagine is mvt. 2. This is interesting. Even with the trombone solo. There are a lot of solos in this piece. Adams' slow movements are, in my opinion, the best parts of the piece. His rhythmic excitement is some of the best non-film/ non-dramatic out there, but I get the sense that he really lets himself go in his slow movements. Maybe its how he handles time... The orchestra sounds great, really well rehearsed. Adams gave them a piece that is fairly easy to shape, but its interesting that Dudamel is conducting new music. I know its part of the legacy of the LA Phil, but I think it's very significant for the hottest new conductor to be actively working with new works, even if they're by established composers. Sometimes the percussion is a bit much, and sometimes the piece sounds very band-y/ big band-y. And that's the second Adams piece I've heard that's had an odd ending...

~ ~ ~

I'm probably going to stop as I have an abstract due tomorrow. And if they take one more encore, it'll be 11:30 before intermission ends. I will probably post other blogs/ reviews of the concert in addition to my thoughts, which (as I re-read), are more about issues than the music. A quick note on the intermission interviews: any conductor that can make a trumpet player sit up and pay attention during rehearsal must have some divine grace (right, Nick?)

UPDATE: I got sucked into the beginning of the Mahler. Quite possibly the best version I have ever heard. Very organic, such a natural way of developing and letting the music work itself out. Incredible. This will be broadcast 10/21 on PBS's "Great Performances," so catch it!

Genre

2009-10-04T14:26:00.003-04:00

Recently, I was part of a discussion about what "genre" was. My interlocutor claimed that genre was (basically, I'm paraphrasing) a way of consuming. If you were listening to something in the chamber music genre, you knew that it was written to be played and heard in a relatively small, intimate venue. An orchestral work would be written to be heard in a large hall with a large audience. My argument with this was that, given the economic demands on "classical" music, nearly every concert takes place in a medium-to-large sized hall, with a fairly substantial audience. In other words, commercial necessity has supplanted their definition of "genre," and this is to say nothing of cds, which reduce this idea of genre into a private listening experience that can occur almost anywhere. Subsequently, this definition of genre simply cannot be correct, as pieces across genres are consumed with such similarity as to seem indistinguishable to an outsider. The response I got was that these ways of consumption are still valid, and are implicit within the creation of a work of music in the chamber music genre.

I still disagree, however. I think that genre is a set of shared or common listener expectations.
Audiences of country music have certain expectations as to instrumentation (and, by extension, the sound world of the music in general) and lyrical themes (and, by extension, the inherent values system of the music). Audiences of symphonic music have expectations as to the overall structure of the work (multi- and various movements, typically with large climaxes at the ends of the first and last movements) and the general way they will consume this music (for a fee, in a large hall, with a large orchestra, and with an accompanying set of social expectations). [The fact that I've been reading Christopher Small's Musicking is readily apparent from that last description, I know.] The genres are not inherent in the production of the music (though the composer or artist learns these generic traits and choses either to abide by them or subvert them), but reside in the audience's reception of the music. When I listen to a Hadyn symphony or a Garth Brooks song, even before I hear the work I will have a set of expectations about the artist's style in particular and the genre as a whole. These expectations are what is manipulated by the artist to create the piece. Ergo, without certain stylistic expectations, there is nothing really for the artist to work with, and no musical style as such can exist.

I suppose I should be even more specific, and say that this was really a discussion about how genre functions, as genre is at its most basic level an advertising method, a way of grouping like products so they can be marketed to like consumers (one of the assumptions of which is that everyone who likes 'rock' likes the same thing... making no distinction between John Mayer and Alice in Chains). However, I turn this over to you: what do you think genre is? And, how does it function? I do this not out of laziness, or the fact that I'm asking a question that's almost impossible to answer definitively. I've been thinking about what I hope to get out of this blog, and am starting a trend towards more interactive discussion, as the miracle that is the Internet shouldn't' exist solely for me impart my views. And, I already know what I think. Now, I want to know what you do.

Babi Yar Remembrance Day- Sept. 29

2009-09-27T15:58:00.006-04:00

Lies

Lying to the young is wrong.
Proving to them that lies are true is wrong.
Telling them
            that God’s in his heaven
and all’s well with the world
                             is wrong.
They know what you mean.
                        They are people too.
Tell them the difficulties
                          can’t be counted,
and let them see
                not only
                        what will be
but see
       with clarity
                   these present times.

Say obstacles exist they must encounter,
sorrow comes,
             hardship happens.
The hell with it.
                 Who never knew
the price of happiness
                      will not be happy.
Forgive no error
                you recognize,
it will repeat itself,
                      a hundredfold
and afterward
             our pupils
will not forgive in us
                      what we forgave.

"Lies" by Yevgeny Yevtushenko, 1952; Translated by Robin Milner-Gulland and Peter Levi (revised)

~ ~ ~

September 29 marks the first day of the Nazi massacre of Jews at Babi Yar. While these original killings lasted three days, and were followed by two years of essentially non-stop murders, 11/29 is set aside as a day of remembrance. While doing research for my thesis (on Shostakovich's Symphony No. 13), I've learned a bit about the historical event. I'll refrain from imparting details or commentary of my own, save that it was horrific, on par with the Nazi camps at Buchenwald and Auschwitz, the Allied firebombing of Dresden, or the atomic weapons blasts in Japan. [I suppose I'll add one bit of commentary, and that's for everyone to read that list and remember that history is always written by the winner.] I'll also spare you from emotional education or political criticism (sans an entreaty to take a moment and think), as these have already been made by people far beyond my poor power to add or detract:

Evaluating Popular Music

2009-09-20T16:18:00.003-04:00

Recently, I was privy to an interesting discussion. All the participants were well-educated "classical" musicians, who were talking about some of the more accessible contemporary pieces (such as Lieberson's Neruda Songs). For whatever reason, the conversation strayed to pop music. One participant began his comments with "I don't listen to pop music, but I think..."

Wow. To be honest, I tuned out then and there. Perhaps our modern new media has made "analysis" like this acceptable, but if someone said "I'm a Presbyterian, but here are my thoughts on the Catholic Church" or "I'm an avowed Marxist, and this is what's wrong with the free market economy", would we really listen to them? Of course, they might be better educated in the subject than we, and we might be inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt, but wouldn't we naturally recognize the inherent bias in their position? What if someone said "I've studied and published on contemporary novels, and I don't read anything on the 'New York Times' best seller list, but this is what I think"? They work in the field, sure. But popular fiction isn't their specialty. I suppose what I'm getting at is: what makes someone, trained in a particular sub-specialty of a particular discipline, feel that they have the right to *intelligently* comment on something that falls beyond their scope? We wouldn't take kindly to a jazz wunderkind commenting blithely on Don Giovanni, and we wouldn't listen to a Renaissance student's pontifications on Stockhausen. Why not? Surely they're trained in their field, they can listen to and perform and analyze music within that field, right?

Yes. But, they simply don't know enough about trends, styles, historical and contemporary context, and dozens of other pieces of information that separate true scholars and intelligent consumers from people who make an at best tangential engagement with the material. They simply wouldn't know enough to make insightful, intelligent comments. It seems obvious, no? But my beleaguered interlocutor made his comments in all seriousness, and many people in the room listened to them with a similar earnestness.

I asked myself why for days. Applying Occam's razor, I wondered if it was simply an inability to think critically. However, these listeners were graduate students, so they were old hands at critically evaluating information... yet, they still seriously absorbed his comments. This means they were all totally ok with his admitted lack of knowledge about the subject, and that they still felt he had something to offer. No one in this same crowd would have read a review that started "Well, I didn't even go to the concert, but this is what I thought," or a book that began "I have never listened to Schubert, but here is my analysis and interpretation." Why, then, did they even begin to entertain this gentleman's comments?

The answer I arrived at was far more sinister: This guy's only talking about pop music after all. Who cares if he doesn't listen to it? We're all intelligent musicians, who are far above that genre, and it's so simple! Of course, it's perfectly natural for him to express his opinion about it, since he probably knows more about pop music than anyone who plays it or writes it or listens to it. It is more or less this set of assumptions that underlies an academy that would never DREAM of harboring a conversation like this about other topics, but can allow it with regards to popular art forms.* These assumptions are about the music's worth and value, but they are also assumptions about who is equipped to deal with the music. Apparently, any yahoo who's ever taken a theory or history class or who plays a "serious" instrument or who listens to "classical" music is well-versed enough to make judgements about an art form they don't even listen to.

Friends, let me tell you a story. It's a story of a young man, struggling to become part of this same academy, and who wouldn't hesitate a second to pass judgement on pop music, even things that he'd never listened to. Then, a wise man pointed out to me that, yes, pop music was simple. So what? Get over yourself! You can't evaluate it like you would "classical" music, because it's not created for the same reasons. Oh, so "Crank that" by Soulja Boy Tell 'em is simple, repetitive, and has a beat?** It's dance music. And it's GREAT dance music. It's terrible art music, sure. But it's not supposed to be. That person was me, and I will be the first to acknowledge that I was quite an arrogant, ignorant young punk. But, I've since reformed. I love Fall Out Boy, and completely ignore friends who make fun of me for it, knowing that they've never listened to a whole album. I try not to judge any band (much less style) without listening to a lot of it more than once. And I always try to take into account the reasons the music was created while I'm making a value judgement, realizing that I can not like the piece, but that it can still be a good one, and one that amply fulfills the criteria for which it was created.***

That said, I can't abide someone who just starts making value judgements about something they know nothing about. Or an academy that (tacitly or explicitly) ok's that kind of behavior.

Update, 10pm: Thanks to the folks at NPR's music site, I discovered the best possible example to illustrate my point:

She also does this to "Help" and "I Want to Hold Your Hand." No one can possibly deny that she's one of the most talented voices of the 20th century. But, that doesn't mean that she can "do" pop music. Yes, I know these are interpretations, and are created for a different purpose etc., but the ethos is still the one I was railing against. Enjoy!

* I don't mean to imply that this is THE way the academy is, and that things haven't changed markedly over the last 20-30 years. However, we still live in a day and age where a full professor can scathingly say "you should have the skills" to study Dark Side of the Moon.

** I'm not trying to be ironic or hip, and I'm certainly not picking on the song. I picked it because the video has a scene where a representative of "the Man" sees his kids do the dance, and then searches out the video himself. It's somewhat symbolic.

*** From Tasha Robinson, via Phil from Dial M... :

http://musicology.typepad.com/dialm/2009/02/off-to-minneapolis.html

First Posting: Welcomes and Introductions

2009-09-10T22:33:00.005-04:00

Hello, musicological blogosphere! I would like to take this opportunity to extend a welcome to you on behalf of MusicologicalMusings. We hope to leave this blog intentionally open-ended and inclusive, to reflect both our diverse interests and our view of the discipline as a whole (and of course, to give us license to post on pretty much anything). If a topic is in any way thought provoking, unique, or otherwise stimulating, it will be fair game. We hope to be fairly active, between our regular posters and special guest bloggers, some of whom will be introducing themselves and their interests over the coming days and weeks.

To begin with, my name is John Hausmann, and I am in the second year of my masters at the University of Louisville. My research interests include Russian/Soviet music (my thesis is on Dmitri Shostakovich's 13th Symphony), humor in music, popular music, and ways musical meanings are created by different audiences. Some of my future blog postings will hopefully include ruminations on pop music, a discussion of Christopher Small's Musicking, and a consideration of how people listen to and perceive music that will dovetail nicely with my graduate seminar in music after 1960. If I had to make listening recommendations, I would recommend (in chronological order) Bach's Cantata BWV 78, Schumann's Fantasiestücke, op. 12, Pierre Boulez's Sur Incises, Animal Collective's Merriweather Post Pavilion, and Fanfarlo's Reservoir.

~ ~ ~

I would like to take this opportunity to share some thoughts about the recent Beatles remasters. For those of you who (*gasp*) aren't Beatles fans, a quick catchup: the entire catalogue was remastered and re-released (in both mono and stereo) on 9/9/09 to coincide with the release of the Beatles edition of RockBand. I managed to find a record store to sell them to me early, and purchased Revolver, Sgt. Peppers, The While Album, and Abbey Road. I instantly noticed the difference, as did some of the other Beatles fans I played the albums for the next day. However, I figured the best acid test would be someone who hasn't heard the albums dozens of times experiencing a side-by-side comparison between the original and the remaster. I experimented with the non-major History of Rock class, and most of them were able to both hear and articulate differences. Most obviously, everything is simply louder. This is noticeable especially the drums and bass (which seems to be much warmer than before). The overall difference in recording quality is enough to make it seem, as the helpful gent in the record store put it, "that they recorded these yesterday." I'd go so far as to say that, with a good stereo setup (I recommend appropriating a recital hall with good speakers for this purpose), it almost seems that the band is in the room with you.

Some of my only complaints involve the quality of the mixes, which at time simply aren't as good as the originals (and, I've only heard the stereo remasters, so I can't comment on the mono). For example, in "Yellow Submarine," the waves in the second verse are boosted up to the point they almost become a distraction (and in my headphones, the waves almost completely drown out Ringos voice). That said, I definitely recommend them if you are a Beatles fan. I don't know if the remasters will replace the original in my listening rotation, but they're pure ear candy. For me personally, it was also great to get excited about the music all over again, and this is the closest I'll ever come in my life to experiencing what it must have been like to get excited about the release of these albums. Briefly touching on commercial aspects (and leaving commercial exploitation aside, which exists in no small measure (how many times do I need to shell out for these same cds?)), there's also the fact that this move (both the re-releases and the RockBand edition) will probably introduce a whole new generation of people to this music, which has meant so much to so many. And, in my opinion, that can't entirely be a bad thing.