Pub Date : 2010-09-22DOI: 10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0215
Y. Daniel
Research on Caribbean dance movement has revealed consistent, ongoing contredanse-related practices since the seventeenth century in the Spanish islands and since the eighteenth century in the French, British, Dutch, and former Danish islands. Despite variation within European influence that distinguishes one area of the Caribbean from another, Africans were generally prohibited from dancing the dances of their origins except on special occasions, like Dias de los reyes in the Spanish islands and at times, at Corpus Christi on other islands, but dancing within their own spaces was well-noticed by colonists and missionaries (e.g., Labat [1724] 1972, 401-404). At other times, "dancers of all colors," i.e., Europeans, Europeans born in the Americas or Creoles, (1) and mixed descent persons participated in dance lessons with dance masters, as in the case of Martinique that was observed in 1789 by Mederic Louis Elie Moreau de Saint Mery (40). Dance instruction was in preparation for bals de societe, for special performances after Mass (see Fray Francisco Padilla's 1691 account in Allende-Goitia 2006, 137-138), and for less formal social events on haciendas and plantations (e.g., Fray Inigo Abbad y Lasierra ([1782] 1969, 188-190; Moreau de Saint Mery [1789] 1803; Ledru [1797] 1957, 47; Bremer [1851] 1980, 37-39, 64-65, 72-74; Alonso [1882-1883] 200l, 100-l08). With few opportunities to continue their own dances, some Africans and their descendants were able to observe the dance training and dance performance of colonial families. Over time, they replaced the African performance that was abhorred by Europeans with imitations, parodies, and creative extensions of the colonial performances that they could observe. At times, African imitations of European court imitations were used to entertain colonists and their guests; however, across the Caribbean, African descendants perfected their versions of European body orientation, dance steps, and dance sequences, stating nonverbally that they, too, could dance socially esteemed dances (Cyrille 1996, 2006; Danie12006). They took from the dominant group what the dominant group valued most: their elaborate dance practices. Just as European performers since the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries had attempted also through dance performance, African-descended performers signaled good manners and impressive social standing through a variety of contredanse-related performances. Over time, African descendants appropriated European contredanse-derived performance across the entire Caribbean region. The Caribbean contredanse-derived forms that emerged do not stand together in an obvious manner because of diverse names for similar dance configurations and similar names for very different forms. The following discussion, based on comparative fieldwork and a survey of Caribbean dance practices, attempts to overcome some of these difficulties and to show pointedly that Africans and their descendants asserted their human di
对加勒比舞蹈运动的研究表明，自十七世纪以来，在西班牙岛屿上，以及自十八世纪以来，在法国、英国、荷兰和前丹麦岛屿上，一直存在着与种族冲突有关的习俗。尽管在欧洲的影响下，加勒比海地区与其他地区有所不同，但非洲人通常被禁止跳他们原籍的舞蹈，除非是在特殊场合，如西班牙岛屿上的 Dias de los reyes，有时是其他岛屿上的圣体节，但殖民者和传教士非常注意在他们自己的空间里跳舞（例如，Labat [1724] 1972, 401-404）。在其他时候，"各种肤色的舞者"，即欧洲人、在美洲出生的欧洲人或克里奥尔人(1)，以及混血儿参加了舞蹈大师的舞蹈课程，如 Mederic Louis Elie Moreau de Saint Mery 在 1789 年观察到的马提尼克岛的情况(40)。舞蹈教学是为了准备 bals de societe、弥撒后的特别表演（见 Fray Francisco Padilla 1691 年的描述，载于 Allende-Goitia 2006 年，137-138 页），以及庄园和种植园中不太正式的社交活动（例如，Fray Inigo Abbad y Las Derechos，1691-1691 年，Allende-Goitia 2006 年，137-138 页）、Fray Inigo Abbad y Lasierra ([1782] 1969, 188-190; Moreau de Saint Mery [1789] 1803; Ledru [1797] 1957, 47; Bremer [1851] 1980, 37-39, 64-65, 72-74; Alonso [1882-1883] 200l, 100-l08)。由于很少有机会继续自己的舞蹈，一些非洲人及其后裔得以观摩殖民地家庭的舞蹈训练和舞蹈表演。随着时间的推移，他们用模仿、戏仿和创造性地延伸他们所能看到的殖民地表演，取代了欧洲人所憎恶的非洲表演。有时，非洲人模仿欧洲人的宫廷表演来取悦殖民者和他们的客人；然而，在整个加勒比海地区，非洲后裔完善了他们对欧洲人肢体方向、舞步和舞蹈顺序的模仿，以非语言的方式表明他们也能跳受社会尊重的舞蹈（Cyrille，1996 年，2006 年；Danie，2006 年）。他们从占统治地位的群体那里获得了占统治地位的群体最看重的东西：他们精心设计的舞蹈实践。正如 16 世纪和 17 世纪以来欧洲表演者试图通过舞蹈表演来表达的那样，非洲后裔表演者通过各种与竞赛相关的表演来表达良好的礼仪和令人印象深刻的社会地位。随着时间的推移，整个加勒比地区的非洲后裔都在使用源自欧洲的 Contredanse 表演。由于相似的舞蹈配置有不同的名称，而迥异的舞蹈配置又有相似的名称，因此加勒比海地区出现的 "contredanse "衍生形式并不明显。下面的讨论基于比较性的实地考察和对加勒比舞蹈实践的调查，试图克服其中的一些困难，并尖锐地表明，非洲人及其后裔在某些舞蹈实践中维护了自己的人格尊严，不仅在法属加勒比地区，而且在加勒比地区的所有欧洲殖民制度下都是如此。因此，本比较分析的主旨是确认 "加勒比四重奏 "的多种名称表达了非洲裔表演者持续存在但被淹没的能动性，并建议对舞蹈动作进行人类学研究，以提供更多解释：2) 加勒比地区非洲舞蹈模式的历史；2) 加勒比舞蹈的分类；3) 与四重舞表演相关的皇家庆典；4) 在与四重舞相关的活动中担任领导职务的非洲裔妇女。分析的重点不同于其他加勒比表演研究，因为它主要局限于舞蹈表演，而没有全面或平行地研究明显附带的音乐表演。...
{"title":"An Ethnographic Comparison of Caribbean Quadrilles","authors":"Y. Daniel","doi":"10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0215","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0215","url":null,"abstract":"Research on Caribbean dance movement has revealed consistent, ongoing contredanse-related practices since the seventeenth century in the Spanish islands and since the eighteenth century in the French, British, Dutch, and former Danish islands. Despite variation within European influence that distinguishes one area of the Caribbean from another, Africans were generally prohibited from dancing the dances of their origins except on special occasions, like Dias de los reyes in the Spanish islands and at times, at Corpus Christi on other islands, but dancing within their own spaces was well-noticed by colonists and missionaries (e.g., Labat [1724] 1972, 401-404). At other times, \"dancers of all colors,\" i.e., Europeans, Europeans born in the Americas or Creoles, (1) and mixed descent persons participated in dance lessons with dance masters, as in the case of Martinique that was observed in 1789 by Mederic Louis Elie Moreau de Saint Mery (40). Dance instruction was in preparation for bals de societe, for special performances after Mass (see Fray Francisco Padilla's 1691 account in Allende-Goitia 2006, 137-138), and for less formal social events on haciendas and plantations (e.g., Fray Inigo Abbad y Lasierra ([1782] 1969, 188-190; Moreau de Saint Mery [1789] 1803; Ledru [1797] 1957, 47; Bremer [1851] 1980, 37-39, 64-65, 72-74; Alonso [1882-1883] 200l, 100-l08). With few opportunities to continue their own dances, some Africans and their descendants were able to observe the dance training and dance performance of colonial families. Over time, they replaced the African performance that was abhorred by Europeans with imitations, parodies, and creative extensions of the colonial performances that they could observe. At times, African imitations of European court imitations were used to entertain colonists and their guests; however, across the Caribbean, African descendants perfected their versions of European body orientation, dance steps, and dance sequences, stating nonverbally that they, too, could dance socially esteemed dances (Cyrille 1996, 2006; Danie12006). They took from the dominant group what the dominant group valued most: their elaborate dance practices. Just as European performers since the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries had attempted also through dance performance, African-descended performers signaled good manners and impressive social standing through a variety of contredanse-related performances. Over time, African descendants appropriated European contredanse-derived performance across the entire Caribbean region. The Caribbean contredanse-derived forms that emerged do not stand together in an obvious manner because of diverse names for similar dance configurations and similar names for very different forms. The following discussion, based on comparative fieldwork and a survey of Caribbean dance practices, attempts to overcome some of these difficulties and to show pointedly that Africans and their descendants asserted their human di","PeriodicalId":354930,"journal":{"name":"Black Music Research Journal","volume":"24 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2010-09-22","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"128157537","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2010-09-22DOI: 10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0273
J. Hildebrand
It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one's self through the eyes of others, of measuring one's soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One feels his twoness,--an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder. W. E. B. Du Bois There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion. Ralph Waldo Emerson The Gods will not descend without song. Common West African aphorism Tenor Roland Hayes was one of a small handful of black singers to bring spirituals before the American public in the early twentieth century, declaring that the music of slaves--and therefore, to an extent, the music of Africa--was worthy of display in America's halls of honor. Breaking down the barriers that had kept black singers and black songs confined to the black community in the United States' post-emancipation years, however, proved challenging on a number of levels. Even within the black community, there were some who wanted to distance themselves from African-inspired music that reminded them too painfully of the days of slavery. White America, moreover, did not usually smile upon such offerings, and some resisted forcefully the idea that black Americans or their music had any place on the concert stage. Despite such challenges, Hayes helped open the stage to black American artists who were dedicated to shattering the blackface minstrel tradition. He insisted on incorporating spirituals into his performances, and, fairly early in his career, recognized and celebrated the black timbres and enunciations that he found in his voice. "Before my time," he remarked, "white singers had too often been in the habit of burlesquing the spirituals with rolling eyes and heaving breast and shuffling feet, on the blasphemous assumption that they were singing comic songs" (Helm 1969, 188-189). (1) Music and art critic Alain Locke wrote that because of Hayes, "barriers raised for generations against Negro musicians fell like the Walls of Jericho; international acclaim forced American recognition and a great musical personality clinched it. ... Roland Hayes vindicated Negro musicianship" ([1936] 1969, 123). A young American studying music in Berlin put it somewhat more succinctly: "Goddamn it," he said, greeting Hayes after a performance and reaching out to shake his hand, "[P]ut it there! This is the first time I have seen the Germans admit that good art can come out of America" (quoted in Helm 1969, 212). Simultaneously, however, Hayes felt pressure to conform to the standards of white America, and to some degree he internalized white America's expectations. He judged his own success as a musician using the measures established by Europeans and white Ameri
{"title":"\"Two Souls, Two Thoughts, Two Unreconciled Strivings\": The Sound of Double Consciousness in Roland Hayes's Early Career","authors":"J. Hildebrand","doi":"10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0273","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0273","url":null,"abstract":"It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one's self through the eyes of others, of measuring one's soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One feels his twoness,--an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder. W. E. B. Du Bois There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion. Ralph Waldo Emerson The Gods will not descend without song. Common West African aphorism Tenor Roland Hayes was one of a small handful of black singers to bring spirituals before the American public in the early twentieth century, declaring that the music of slaves--and therefore, to an extent, the music of Africa--was worthy of display in America's halls of honor. Breaking down the barriers that had kept black singers and black songs confined to the black community in the United States' post-emancipation years, however, proved challenging on a number of levels. Even within the black community, there were some who wanted to distance themselves from African-inspired music that reminded them too painfully of the days of slavery. White America, moreover, did not usually smile upon such offerings, and some resisted forcefully the idea that black Americans or their music had any place on the concert stage. Despite such challenges, Hayes helped open the stage to black American artists who were dedicated to shattering the blackface minstrel tradition. He insisted on incorporating spirituals into his performances, and, fairly early in his career, recognized and celebrated the black timbres and enunciations that he found in his voice. \"Before my time,\" he remarked, \"white singers had too often been in the habit of burlesquing the spirituals with rolling eyes and heaving breast and shuffling feet, on the blasphemous assumption that they were singing comic songs\" (Helm 1969, 188-189). (1) Music and art critic Alain Locke wrote that because of Hayes, \"barriers raised for generations against Negro musicians fell like the Walls of Jericho; international acclaim forced American recognition and a great musical personality clinched it. ... Roland Hayes vindicated Negro musicianship\" ([1936] 1969, 123). A young American studying music in Berlin put it somewhat more succinctly: \"Goddamn it,\" he said, greeting Hayes after a performance and reaching out to shake his hand, \"[P]ut it there! This is the first time I have seen the Germans admit that good art can come out of America\" (quoted in Helm 1969, 212). Simultaneously, however, Hayes felt pressure to conform to the standards of white America, and to some degree he internalized white America's expectations. He judged his own success as a musician using the measures established by Europeans and white Ameri","PeriodicalId":354930,"journal":{"name":"Black Music Research Journal","volume":"86 1-2","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2010-09-22","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"131830077","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2010-09-22DOI: 10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0241
J. Karpf
In 1934, Zora Neale Hurston wrote that "the Negro is a very original being. While he lives and moves in the midst of a white civilization, everything that be touches is reinterpreted for his own use" (304). Of all modes of cultural expression, the reinterpretation of music by African Americans has been especially prevalent and compelling, as composer Olly Wilson describes: For several hundred years now since our forefathers' involuntary departure from the homeland, black people have been adapting machines in the American environment to suit their purposes. Everything from food and dress to language and religion has been adapted to conform to an essentially African way of doing things. Nowhere has this adaptation been truer than in music .... The point here is that, as in African Bantu philosophy, a thing is given meaning only by the will of a human being. The media is a vehicle of expression, not the substance of expression. Since the substance stems from the wellsprings of the individual, the media may be derived, therefore, from any source. (1973, 36) Taking Wilson's assertion as a starting point, how might African Americans have adapted music, written by a white composer for white performers and audiences, "to suit their purposes?" In the discussion to follow, I consider aspects of African-American reinterpretation of one such work--the choral drama Esther, the Beautiful Queen, written by William Bradbury in 1856. In the very least, the association of black singers with this piece simultaneously disrupted and transcended Bradbury's original intentions and thus, their performances assumed activist purpose. By extension, then, African-American performances of Esther challenged Eurocentric interpretive expectations and standards. In addition, the text of this work, based on the book of Esther, became a vehicle of specialized sociopolitical and spiritual messages. To illustrate these points, I consider three performances of this work that took place in the nineteenth century. The earliest of these, by the Fisk Singers in 1871, may have been the first time an African-American ensemble staged this work. Next, I turn to performances of Esther in Washington, D.C., and Montgomery, Alabama, in the 1880s, under the direction of soprano Amelia L. Tilghman. A teacher and aspiring concert artist, Tilghman organized and managed her productions, rehearsed singers, and starred in the title role. The final performance under consideration took place in New York's famous Daly's Theatre, where the Hampton Singers performed Esther in 1893. William Bradbury and Esther Perhaps no other American musician cultivated and achieved the popularity and prominent commercial and pedagogical profile enjoyed by William Batchelder Bradbury (1816-68) during the middle decades of the nineteenth century. Born in Maine to parents dedicated to amateur music making, Bradbury began music lessons as child. In his youth he enrolled at Lowell Mason's Boston Academy of Music. By 1840 he ha
1934年，佐拉·尼尔·赫斯顿写道:“黑人是一种非常原始的存在。当他在白人文明中生活和移动时，他所接触到的一切都被重新解释为他自己的用途”(304)。在所有的文化表达模式中，非裔美国人对音乐的重新诠释尤为普遍和引人注目，正如作曲家奥利·威尔逊(Olly Wilson)所描述的那样:自从我们的祖先被迫离开家园以来，几百年来，黑人一直在调整美国环境中的机器，以适应他们的目的。从食物和服装到语言和宗教，一切都经过了调整，以符合非洲人的基本行事方式。这种适应在音乐中表现得最为明显....这里的要点是，在非洲班图哲学中，只有人的意志才能赋予事物意义。媒体是表达的工具，而不是表达的实质。由于物质来源于个人的源泉，媒介可以来源于任何来源。(1973,36)以威尔逊的断言为出发点，非裔美国人如何改编白人作曲家为白人表演者和白人观众创作的音乐，“以适应他们的目的”?在接下来的讨论中，我将考虑非裔美国人对其中一部作品的重新诠释——威廉·布拉德伯里于1856年创作的合唱戏剧《美丽的王后以斯帖》。至少，黑人歌手与这首歌的联系同时破坏并超越了布拉德伯里的初衷，因此，他们的表演具有积极的目的。由此延伸，非裔美国人对《以斯特》的表演挑战了以欧洲为中心的解读期望和标准。此外，这部以《以斯帖记》为基础的作品的文本，成为专门的社会政治和精神信息的载体。为了说明这些观点，我考虑了这部作品发生在19世纪的三场演出。其中最早的一部是1871年由菲斯克歌手(Fisk Singers)创作的，这可能是美国黑人合奏团第一次上演这部作品。接下来，我将转向19世纪80年代在华盛顿特区和阿拉巴马州蒙哥马利由女高音Amelia L. Tilghman指挥的《以斯特》的演出。作为一名教师和有抱负的音乐会艺术家，蒂尔曼组织和管理她的作品，排练歌手，并主演了标题角色。考虑中的最后一场演出在纽约著名的戴利剧院举行，汉普顿歌手于1893年在那里演出了《以斯特》。在19世纪中期的几十年里，也许没有其他美国音乐家像威廉·巴切尔德·布拉德伯里(William Batchelder Bradbury, 1816-68)那样受欢迎，在商业和教学方面都有突出的表现。布拉德伯里出生在缅因州，父母都热衷于业余音乐创作，他从小就开始上音乐课。年轻时，他就读于洛厄尔·梅森的波士顿音乐学院。到1840年，他在纽约市建立了自己的地位，在那里他担任教堂管风琴手和合唱团指挥。他还开始出版流行宗教和世俗歌曲和教学作品的音轨合集。1847年，他前往欧洲接受额外的音乐教育，并与著名教师一起工作了两年，主要是在莱比锡。回到美国后，布拉德伯里接受了纽约百老汇舞台剧的音乐总监一职。致力于促进全民音乐素养，布拉德伯里在美国各地巡回演出，教授“各个阶层的学生——从百万富翁的孩子到工人的孩子”(《布拉德伯里先生的少年音乐会》1852年)。他为有抱负的音乐教师组织了会议，他的社区合唱音乐会和音乐节都吸引了数百人参加。作为作曲家和选集家，他出版了数千部作品。．．．
{"title":"An Opportunity to Rise: Reinterpreting Esther, the Beautiful Queen","authors":"J. Karpf","doi":"10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0241","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0241","url":null,"abstract":"In 1934, Zora Neale Hurston wrote that \"the Negro is a very original being. While he lives and moves in the midst of a white civilization, everything that be touches is reinterpreted for his own use\" (304). Of all modes of cultural expression, the reinterpretation of music by African Americans has been especially prevalent and compelling, as composer Olly Wilson describes: For several hundred years now since our forefathers' involuntary departure from the homeland, black people have been adapting machines in the American environment to suit their purposes. Everything from food and dress to language and religion has been adapted to conform to an essentially African way of doing things. Nowhere has this adaptation been truer than in music .... The point here is that, as in African Bantu philosophy, a thing is given meaning only by the will of a human being. The media is a vehicle of expression, not the substance of expression. Since the substance stems from the wellsprings of the individual, the media may be derived, therefore, from any source. (1973, 36) Taking Wilson's assertion as a starting point, how might African Americans have adapted music, written by a white composer for white performers and audiences, \"to suit their purposes?\" In the discussion to follow, I consider aspects of African-American reinterpretation of one such work--the choral drama Esther, the Beautiful Queen, written by William Bradbury in 1856. In the very least, the association of black singers with this piece simultaneously disrupted and transcended Bradbury's original intentions and thus, their performances assumed activist purpose. By extension, then, African-American performances of Esther challenged Eurocentric interpretive expectations and standards. In addition, the text of this work, based on the book of Esther, became a vehicle of specialized sociopolitical and spiritual messages. To illustrate these points, I consider three performances of this work that took place in the nineteenth century. The earliest of these, by the Fisk Singers in 1871, may have been the first time an African-American ensemble staged this work. Next, I turn to performances of Esther in Washington, D.C., and Montgomery, Alabama, in the 1880s, under the direction of soprano Amelia L. Tilghman. A teacher and aspiring concert artist, Tilghman organized and managed her productions, rehearsed singers, and starred in the title role. The final performance under consideration took place in New York's famous Daly's Theatre, where the Hampton Singers performed Esther in 1893. William Bradbury and Esther Perhaps no other American musician cultivated and achieved the popularity and prominent commercial and pedagogical profile enjoyed by William Batchelder Bradbury (1816-68) during the middle decades of the nineteenth century. Born in Maine to parents dedicated to amateur music making, Bradbury began music lessons as child. In his youth he enrolled at Lowell Mason's Boston Academy of Music. By 1840 he ha","PeriodicalId":354930,"journal":{"name":"Black Music Research Journal","volume":"22 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2010-09-22","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"116934952","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2010-09-22DOI: 10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0383
Howard Rye
As previously remarked (Rye 2009, 156), research such as this into the Southern Syncopated Orchestra has no realistic end, and new information continually emerges. The opportunity is here taken to present some of the most significant recent findings and also to correct a couple of the major errors and omissions that inevitably escaped the most conscientious editing and checking. The Southern Syncopated Orchestra in Belfast The acquisition by Konrad Nowakowski of a program printed by Belfast News-Letter Ltd., relating to the Orchestra's engagement in Ireland's second city for two weeks from November 7, 1921, enables more detail to be given about the program there. It also enables two new names to be added to the Roster (see below). The copy of the program to hand has penciled annotations by its original owner, which inspires confidence that the advertised program was played. The anticipated program opened, as at Brighton, with Will Marion Cook's "Swing Along" by Orchestra and Chorus, followed by "Cuckoo Waltz" by the Orchestra. Next came solos by Fred Archer ("Roll Jordan"), Bert Marshall ("Jessamine," with chorus), and James Ansley, a new name ("I Got a Robe"), after which the Orchestra played "Peter Gink." William Taylor performed "Jericho" followed by J. H. Boucher's violin solo, Frantisek Alois Drdla's "Souvenir." The attendee has noted that Boucher played "Little Grey Home in the West" as an encore. This was followed by "Russian Rag" by the Orchestra, Mrs. H. King Reavis performing "Deep River" by H. T. Burleigh with "Mammy's Little Coal Black Rose" as a medley, Harry Wellmon's "Jazz in the Harem" by the Orchestra, and another medley, "Li'l Gal" and "I Wish I Was a Child Again" by Farley B. Graden. The first half closed with "Southland Melodies" by Mrs. H. King Reavis and Chorus. The second half opened with "Whispering" and "Camp Meeting Blues" by the Orchestra, separated by "Old Black Joe" sung by Charles Chivers. Frank G. Cook, the other new name, then performed a "Violincello Solo," Squire's "Meditation in C." Like Boucher's classical instrumental in the first half, this was encored, again with a lighter piece, "I'll Sing the Songs of Araby." Bert Marshall and William Taylor performed "Bright Eyes," followed by "Bonnie Lassie" by the Orchestra, and "Selections from Traditional Repertoire" by Quartette. The performance climaxed with William Taylor's bones solo on "Dear Old Virginia" and the Orchestra playing "My Mammy." Lieutenant E. E. Thompson conducted. No other performers are mentioned. The lack of relationship to the program quoted in reviews of the opening performance (Rye 2009, 216) is striking and perhaps suggests that this is the second week's program. This was the orchestra's last engagement in Britain and the last under the original billing. Some of the changes are noteworthy. "Old Black Joe," reported as a solo for Herbert Parker, has now been given to Charles Chivers. At Brighton it had been performed by Elmer Certain. On openi
如前所述(Rye 2009, 156)，对南方切分音乐团的研究没有现实的目的，新的信息不断涌现。本文借此机会介绍一些最重要的最新发现，并纠正一些重大错误和遗漏，这些错误和遗漏不可避免地躲过了最认真的编辑和检查。康拉德·诺瓦科夫斯基(Konrad Nowakowski)获得了贝尔法斯特新闻通讯有限公司(Belfast News-Letter Ltd.)印刷的节奏单，该节奏单与该乐团从1921年11月7日起在爱尔兰第二大城市贝尔法斯特(Belfast)演出的两周有关，可以提供更多有关该节奏单的细节。这样还可以在名册上增加两个新名字(见下文)。手头的程序副本上有原始所有者的铅笔注释，这激发了人们对广告中播放的程序的信心。和在布莱顿的演出一样，万众期待的演出以管弦乐队和合唱团的威尔·马里昂·库克的《摇摆》开场，接着是管弦乐队的《布谷鸟华尔兹》。接下来是弗雷德·阿彻(Fred Archer)的《Roll Jordan》、伯特·马歇尔(Bert Marshall)的《Jessamine》和合唱，以及詹姆斯·安斯利(James Ansley)的新名字(《I Got a Robe》)的独奏，之后管弦乐队演奏了《彼得·金克》(Peter Gink)。威廉·泰勒演奏了《杰里科》，接着是j·h·鲍彻的小提琴独奏，弗兰蒂塞克·阿洛伊斯·德拉的《纪念品》。与会者注意到，鲍彻在返场时演奏了《西部小灰屋》(Little Grey Home in West)。接着是乐团的《俄罗斯布条》、h·金·里维斯夫人与《嬷嬷的小黑玫瑰》合奏的h·t·伯利的《深河》、乐团的哈里·威尔蒙的《后宫爵士》和法利·b·格莱登的《我希望我还是个孩子》合奏的《Li'l Gal》。上半场以H. King Reavis夫人的《Southland Melodies》和合唱团结束。下半场以乐团的《窃窃私语》和《Camp Meeting Blues》开场，中间穿插了查尔斯·奇弗斯的《Old Black Joe》。另一个新名字弗兰克·g·库克(Frank G. Cook)随后演奏了《小提琴独奏》、斯奎尔的《c调冥想》。就像鲍彻在前半部分的古典器乐一样，这首曲子又加了一首轻松的曲子，“我要唱阿拉伯之歌”。伯特·马歇尔和威廉·泰勒演奏了《明亮的眼睛》，接着是乐团的《邦妮·莱西》，以及四重奏的《传统曲目选集》。演出在威廉·泰勒的《亲爱的老弗吉尼亚》独奏和管弦乐队的《我的奶妈》中达到高潮。e·e·汤普森中尉指挥。没有提到其他表演者。在开场表演的评论中引用的缺乏与节目的关系(拉伊2009,216)是惊人的，也许表明这是第二周的节目。这是该乐团在英国的最后一次演出，也是最后一次按原计划演出。其中一些变化值得注意。《老黑乔》，据说是赫伯特·帕克的独唱，现在交给了查尔斯·奇弗斯。在布赖顿，这首曲子是由埃尔默?首演当晚，詹姆斯·鲍彻(James Boucher)用大提琴伴奏演奏了《圣母颂》(Ave Maria)。不幸的是，不知道这是否是由神秘的弗兰克·库克提供的。鉴于威廉·泰勒再次被确认为骨骼独奏者，很明显，他也可能是贝尔法斯特电报评论中提到的骨骼演奏鼓手。法利·格拉登的名字在本节目中拼写正确，因此这不是“格雷登”拼写错误的来源，否则在爱尔兰报告文学中是一致的。法国宣传传单上印着Will Marion Cook和h.m. Wellmon的肖像(Rye 2009, 199n37, 217-218)，这个谜的答案可能是Cook确实成功地重组了巴黎的管弦乐队。它以这个名字出现在高蒙宫“复活节”，大概从4月14日到20日。阿比·米切尔和吉尔摩夫妇也有照片，但巴迪·吉尔摩将在同一周在奥林匹亚举行。…
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Pub Date : 2010-09-22DOI: 10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0371
J. Jackson
In his fresh and insightful paper, Ronald Radano conveys the cultural work African-American music performs for the nation. The paper calls to mind reflections James Baldwin made about the subject a half-century ago. "It is only in his music," Baldwin wrote, "that the Negro has been able to tell his story" (Baldwin 1985, 65). According to Baldwin, music supplied this vehicle because it commanded the attention of white Americans. Yet he carefully pointed out that black music also hindered their ability to fully understand the sonic stories. Both Baldwin and Radano agree that black music has had a powerful hold on Americans. To account for the influence, Baldwin pointed out that black music inspired a "productive sentimentality among white audiences," preventing them from comprehending its deeper messages (65). Building on Baldwin, Radano concentrates on how African-American music functions in American life. Looking beyond style to consider its broad contours, Radano argues that black music assists in the construction of race. Placing race within a broader historical context lends added salience to Radano's intriguing assertion. Since the eighteenth century, race has provided the basis of a social hierarchy, with whites situated at the top and blacks occupying the bottom. Despite the destruction of slavery, and even Jim Crow, ideas about white supremacy and black inferiority have persisted. Radano traces how discourses about African-American music cultivated a sense of black superiority providing a crucial counter narrative to notions of black inferiority. As early as the 1850s Americans--black and white--began regarding African-American music as decidedly more authentic than nonblack forms. These twin discourses have proved decisive, in some cases tragic, for black singers and musicians who gained stature as national celebrities. As it garnered national and international attention, African-American music emerged as a vehicle for gaining upward mobility. Over the course of the twentieth century a host of black singers and musicians such as Nat King Cole, Bessie Smith, and Louis Armstrong became household names. Their lives on and off the stage, however, could not have been more different. The notoriety and acclaim they could command did not transform the prevailing prejudice and discrimination that imposed constraints offstage. These men and women warrant discussion because, unlike the listeners on whom Radano focuses, they call attention to the limitations of black music. Of course the music operated much differently for audiences. In a nation that championed democracy, slavery and discrimination threatened to undermine this cherished ideal. …
{"title":"On Ownership and Value: Response","authors":"J. Jackson","doi":"10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0371","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0371","url":null,"abstract":"In his fresh and insightful paper, Ronald Radano conveys the cultural work African-American music performs for the nation. The paper calls to mind reflections James Baldwin made about the subject a half-century ago. \"It is only in his music,\" Baldwin wrote, \"that the Negro has been able to tell his story\" (Baldwin 1985, 65). According to Baldwin, music supplied this vehicle because it commanded the attention of white Americans. Yet he carefully pointed out that black music also hindered their ability to fully understand the sonic stories. Both Baldwin and Radano agree that black music has had a powerful hold on Americans. To account for the influence, Baldwin pointed out that black music inspired a \"productive sentimentality among white audiences,\" preventing them from comprehending its deeper messages (65). Building on Baldwin, Radano concentrates on how African-American music functions in American life. Looking beyond style to consider its broad contours, Radano argues that black music assists in the construction of race. Placing race within a broader historical context lends added salience to Radano's intriguing assertion. Since the eighteenth century, race has provided the basis of a social hierarchy, with whites situated at the top and blacks occupying the bottom. Despite the destruction of slavery, and even Jim Crow, ideas about white supremacy and black inferiority have persisted. Radano traces how discourses about African-American music cultivated a sense of black superiority providing a crucial counter narrative to notions of black inferiority. As early as the 1850s Americans--black and white--began regarding African-American music as decidedly more authentic than nonblack forms. These twin discourses have proved decisive, in some cases tragic, for black singers and musicians who gained stature as national celebrities. As it garnered national and international attention, African-American music emerged as a vehicle for gaining upward mobility. Over the course of the twentieth century a host of black singers and musicians such as Nat King Cole, Bessie Smith, and Louis Armstrong became household names. Their lives on and off the stage, however, could not have been more different. The notoriety and acclaim they could command did not transform the prevailing prejudice and discrimination that imposed constraints offstage. These men and women warrant discussion because, unlike the listeners on whom Radano focuses, they call attention to the limitations of black music. Of course the music operated much differently for audiences. In a nation that championed democracy, slavery and discrimination threatened to undermine this cherished ideal. …","PeriodicalId":354930,"journal":{"name":"Black Music Research Journal","volume":"4 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2010-09-22","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"122729221","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2010-09-22DOI: 10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0303
Leta E. Miller
On June 25, 1939, a vibrant show, the Swing Mikado, opened at the Golden Gate International Exposition on San Francisco's Treasure Island. Featuring an all-black cast, the production was a "brashly irreverent" adaptation of Gilbert and Sullivan's Mikado (Hobart 1939b) with the locale changed from Japan to an unidentified "coral island" in the South Seas. The Swing Mikado preserved Sullivan's music intact--albeit with minor changes in lyrics to omit racist references and adapt to the changed geographical setting. Added to the score, however, were a half dozen swing arrangements and "specialty dances" that were greeted with immense ovation and that accounted for the sellout, standing-room-only crowds. The Swing Mikado--which had originated in Chicago a year earlier--represented one of the most successful endeavors of the Federal Theatre Project (FTP), one of four arts programs collectively called "Federal One" that were sponsored by the Works Progress Adminsitration (WPA), the federal government's massive employment effort of the Depression era. San Francisco's version of the show featured fifteen soloists, a "singing chorus" of about fifty, and a "dancing chorus" of about twenty. John Hobart, in the San Francisco Chronicle, characterized the singing group as "really magnificent.... After the anemic voices that usually make up the ensemble in G. and S. revivals," he wrote, "it is wondrous to hear this huge crowd of singers, with full-bodied voices, pitching into the music" (Hobart 1939b). This "singing chorus" was well-known to locals: under the inspired direction of Elmer Keeton, it had become one of the most prominent ensembles in northern California's Federal Music Project (FMP)--another Federal One unit. (The FTP and the FMP often collaborated on musical theater productions. The other two components of Federal One were the Federal Art Project and the Federal Writers' Project.) Keeton's Bay Area Negro Chorus had been attracting large crowds and exceptional reviews for the previous three years. Critics predicted that the Swing Mikado was in for a long run. Two weeks after its opening, however, Congress shut down the FTP, bending to conservative opposition to the WPA in general and to rumors of Communist influence within the Theatre Project in particular. "4100 Lopped Off Rolls; 'Mikado' Show Closed," lamented the Chronicle in a page 1 story the day after the closing ("4100 Lopped" 1939). The Music Project, which felt invested in the production because of Keeton's chorus, tried to convince WPA authorities to take it over from the defunct FTP, but to no avail (Ness 1939; "Music Project" 1939). A month later the Swing Mikado reopened under private sponsorship in the city and then went on tour. Thereafter, the chorus continued to perform concerts under Keeton's leadership, and was even featured in several nationwide broadcasts. The story of Elmer Keeton and his "Negro chorus"--pieced together here from programs, reviews, WPA documents, and recordings
{"title":"Elmer Keeton and His Bay Area Negro Chorus: Creating an Artistic Identity in Depression-Era San Francisco","authors":"Leta E. Miller","doi":"10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0303","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0303","url":null,"abstract":"On June 25, 1939, a vibrant show, the Swing Mikado, opened at the Golden Gate International Exposition on San Francisco's Treasure Island. Featuring an all-black cast, the production was a \"brashly irreverent\" adaptation of Gilbert and Sullivan's Mikado (Hobart 1939b) with the locale changed from Japan to an unidentified \"coral island\" in the South Seas. The Swing Mikado preserved Sullivan's music intact--albeit with minor changes in lyrics to omit racist references and adapt to the changed geographical setting. Added to the score, however, were a half dozen swing arrangements and \"specialty dances\" that were greeted with immense ovation and that accounted for the sellout, standing-room-only crowds. The Swing Mikado--which had originated in Chicago a year earlier--represented one of the most successful endeavors of the Federal Theatre Project (FTP), one of four arts programs collectively called \"Federal One\" that were sponsored by the Works Progress Adminsitration (WPA), the federal government's massive employment effort of the Depression era. San Francisco's version of the show featured fifteen soloists, a \"singing chorus\" of about fifty, and a \"dancing chorus\" of about twenty. John Hobart, in the San Francisco Chronicle, characterized the singing group as \"really magnificent.... After the anemic voices that usually make up the ensemble in G. and S. revivals,\" he wrote, \"it is wondrous to hear this huge crowd of singers, with full-bodied voices, pitching into the music\" (Hobart 1939b). This \"singing chorus\" was well-known to locals: under the inspired direction of Elmer Keeton, it had become one of the most prominent ensembles in northern California's Federal Music Project (FMP)--another Federal One unit. (The FTP and the FMP often collaborated on musical theater productions. The other two components of Federal One were the Federal Art Project and the Federal Writers' Project.) Keeton's Bay Area Negro Chorus had been attracting large crowds and exceptional reviews for the previous three years. Critics predicted that the Swing Mikado was in for a long run. Two weeks after its opening, however, Congress shut down the FTP, bending to conservative opposition to the WPA in general and to rumors of Communist influence within the Theatre Project in particular. \"4100 Lopped Off Rolls; 'Mikado' Show Closed,\" lamented the Chronicle in a page 1 story the day after the closing (\"4100 Lopped\" 1939). The Music Project, which felt invested in the production because of Keeton's chorus, tried to convince WPA authorities to take it over from the defunct FTP, but to no avail (Ness 1939; \"Music Project\" 1939). A month later the Swing Mikado reopened under private sponsorship in the city and then went on tour. Thereafter, the chorus continued to perform concerts under Keeton's leadership, and was even featured in several nationwide broadcasts. The story of Elmer Keeton and his \"Negro chorus\"--pieced together here from programs, reviews, WPA documents, and recordings","PeriodicalId":354930,"journal":{"name":"Black Music Research Journal","volume":"18 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2010-09-22","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"130846593","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2010-09-22DOI: 10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0337
Jesse Stewart
In 2006, the Savoy record label opened its back catalogue of classic recordings from the bebop era to selected hip hop DJs, turntablists, producers, and remix artists. The result was Re-Bop: The Savoy Remixes, another addition to the growing body of jazz remix records that includes, among others, Bird Up, the Verve Remixed series, and Madlib's "invasion" of Blue Note records titled Shades of Blue. Among the thirteen tracks on Re-Bop are pieces by Duke Jordan, Dizzy Gillespie, and Red Norvo, reworked by the likes of DJ Jazzy Jeff, King Britt, and DJ Logic. Charlie Parker's "KoKo" is also included on the disc, remixed by Paul D. Miller, better known as DJ Spooky that Subliminal Kid. Recorded in November 1945, Parker's "KoKo" is based on the chord changes of "Cherokee," a jazz standard written by Ray Noble in 1938 and made famous by Charlie Barnet's 1939 hit recording of the tune. "KoKo" can be thought of as an abstracted version of "Cherokee" in which the sixty-four bar harmonic form of the original is transformed through chord augmentations and an intricate melody played by Parker and trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie at an extremely fast tempo. With "DJ Spooky's Ali Baba & 50 Thieves Mix" of "Koko," Miller continues the process of sonic abstraction, combining looped fragments of Parker's recording with hip hopinspired drum beats and sampled voiceovers from various sources. It is significant that Miller chose to remix this particular recording. One of Parker's earliest recorded masterpieces, "Koko" is a landmark work in the history and development of Afro-modernism. The concept of Afro-modernism differentiates between Afrological modes of cultural production in the "modern world" and Eurocentric conceptions of modernism/ modernity that reinforce social and aesthetic binaries associated with "high" and "low" cultures. I use the term "Afrological" in the sense outlined by musician and theorist George Lewis, who compares "Afrological" models of musical improvisation with "Eurological" trends. "These terms," he writes, "refer metaphorically to musical belief systems and behavior which ... exemplify particular kinds of musical 'logic.' At the same time, these terms are intended to historicize the particularity of perspective characteristic of two systems that have evolved in such divergent cultural environments" (1996, 93). Like Lewis, I use the term "Afrological" to refer to "historically emergent rather than ethnically essential" systems of musical logic that have developed in African diasporic communities historically (93). By extension, the concept of Afro-modernsim provides a theoretical framework for examining the complex relationships between Afrological modes of discourse and modernism/modernity. Guthrie Ramsey Jr. explains that for African Americans, Afro-modernism "consisted of the creation and, certainly, the reception (the political and pleasurable uses) of musical expressions that articulated attitudes about their place in the modern world. Thus,
2006年，Savoy唱片公司向精选的嘻哈dj、唱盘师、制作人和混音艺术家开放了比波普时代的经典唱片目录。结果是Re-Bop: The Savoy Remixes，这是爵士混音唱片中不断增长的另一个新成员，其中包括Bird Up, Verve Remixes系列，以及Madlib的“入侵”Blue Note唱片，名为“Shades of Blue”。在Re-Bop的13首曲目中，有Duke Jordan, Dizzy Gillespie和Red Norvo的作品，由DJ Jazzy Jeff, King Britt和DJ Logic等人重新制作。查理·帕克的《可可》也被收录在唱片中，由保罗·d·米勒(Paul D. Miller)重新混音，他更出名的名字是DJ Spooky that Subliminal Kid。帕克的“KoKo”录制于1945年11月，是基于“Cherokee”的和弦变化，“Cherokee”是雷·诺布尔(Ray Noble)于1938年创作的爵士乐标准，并因查理·巴尼特(Charlie Barnet) 1939年的热门录音而闻名。“KoKo”可以被认为是“Cherokee”的抽象版本，其中原始的64小节和声形式通过和弦增强和帕克和小号手Dizzy Gillespie以极快的节奏演奏的复杂旋律进行了转换。在“Koko”的“DJ Spooky’s Ali Baba & 50 Thieves Mix”中，米勒继续了声音抽象的过程，将帕克录音的循环片段与嘻哈灵感的鼓点和各种来源的采样画外音结合在一起。米勒选择重新混音这张特别的唱片是很重要的。《科科》是帕克最早有记载的杰作之一，在非洲现代主义的历史和发展中具有里程碑意义。非洲现代主义的概念区分了“现代世界”中文化生产的非洲模式和以欧洲为中心的现代主义/现代性概念，后者强化了与“高”和“低”文化相关的社会和美学二元对立。我使用的术语“Afrological”是音乐家和理论家乔治·刘易斯(George Lewis)概述的意义，他将音乐即兴创作的“Afrological”模式与“Eurological”趋势进行了比较。“这些术语，”他写道，“隐喻地指的是音乐信仰体系和行为……举例说明特定类型的音乐“逻辑”。与此同时，这些术语意在将在如此不同的文化环境中进化而来的两种体系的视角特征的特殊性历史化”(1996,93)。和Lewis一样，我用“非洲逻辑”一词来指代在非洲流散社区历史上发展起来的“历史涌现而非种族本质”的音乐逻辑系统(93)。推而广之，非洲现代主义的概念为审视非洲话语模式与现代主义/现代性之间的复杂关系提供了一个理论框架。格思里·拉姆齐(Guthrie Ramsey Jr.)解释说，对于非裔美国人来说，非洲现代主义“包括对音乐表达的创造，当然还有对音乐表达的接受(政治和愉悦的使用)，这些表达表达了他们在现代世界中所处位置的态度。”因此，非洲现代主义提出了这样一个问题:在考虑的历史时刻，对非裔美国人来说，现代性是什么?他们对这部电影的态度在艺术和批判上是如何形成的?”(2003, 97)。拉姆齐讨论了移民、融合、社会和经济进步以及城市化等现代化进程，这些现代化进程促成了20世纪40年代和50年代美国非洲现代主义思潮的兴起(或至少是即将实现)。他还提出，“世纪中期非洲裔美国人文化的音乐、社会经济和政治发展构成了一种非洲现代主义，不仅索引了当下，而且延伸到未来几十年”(xii)。在目前的背景下，我想研究DJ Spooky在各种媒体上的作品受到非洲现代主义影响的一些方式，阐明一种兼具诗意和政治的非洲后现代主义形式。在这种情况下，我使用的新词“非洲后现代主义”值得审查。…
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Pub Date : 2010-09-22DOI: 10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0375
Ingrid T. Monson
Ronald Radano has written an elegant and intellectually ambitious meditation on racial authenticity and the history of black music. As always, his erudite prose frames a classic theme in the study of African-American music in an arresting manner that forces us to think deeply about the question. In this brief response, I would like to present the most intriguing aspects of Radano's argument as well as offer a critique that suggests another avenue for thinking through the same issue. I have known the author for many years now and am pleased that he asked me to write this response, especially since he knows that my way of looking at things is quite different. I am intrigued by the way that Radano frames the problem of authenticity and black music by suggesting that it is an outcome of a paradoxical relationship between sound and property in the history of African-American music. He points out that although the musical talents of the enslaved were among the things that the slavemaster owned and could earn money with, the power of black music was such that it could not be contained by the property system, and indeed exposed the limits of white supremacy, by "giving material form to what lay beyond their grasp" (that is white people's grasp). Central to Radano's argument is a critique of African-American musical and moral authenticity in defining what is such a huge part of the "sound of the nation." This sense of cultural pride, forged in response to the structural conditions of slavery and later a racially hierarchic musical marketplace, as he also points out, has paradoxically become a point of conflicted unity and deep desire in American society. If, as Radano has argued, the power of black music has always exceeded the containment of the property system, it is also true that African-American artists have never been paid in proportion to their influence on American popular music. This is due in part to the racially hierarchic nature of the music industry that throughout the twentieth century seemed to require well-positioned and often well-intentioned non-African Americans to advocate for African-American artists (all the while taking their cuts), and in part the condition of being a minority. I often point out to my students that although the percentage of African Americans in the U.S. population has ranged between 10 and 13 percent, their contribution to mainstream popular musical aesthetics has been substantially greater, one could argue in the range of 60 to 75 percent. If the economic system were fair, in other words, African-American musicians should have been paid in proportion to their aesthetic contribution. In the legendarily exploitive economic contexts of the early and mid-twentieth centuries, this was never true. I am not as troubled as Radano by the discourse of racial authenticity which frequently emerges in our debates over the sound of the nation, because (as I have argued more fully in Freedom Sounds: Civil Rights Call Out to Jaz
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Pub Date : 2010-09-22DOI: 10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.2.0197
N. D. Jong
Tuma boka i hende Tambu ["Tambu takes the mouth of the people"] Afro-Curacaoan parable Tambu is an African-inspired music and dance ritual that developed during slavery on the island of Curacao (largest of the Netherlands Antilles). (1) As a defined space for Afro-Curacaoan activity, Tambu has interconnected different cultural and ethnic groups, establishing varying senses of individual and collective belonging. Yet Tambu is not a melting pot of assorted traditions; the diverse cultural influences have not melded into one another. Rather, the varied cultural elements from Curacao's slave past have been integrated by layers within Tambu. To peel away those layers is to shake apart an intricate jigsaw puzzle into its individual pieces, each a separate, though interlocking, fraction of Afro-Curacao's complex colonial past. Yet, however fascinating these individual pieces may appear on their own, their true form and meaning become apparent only when considered within the context of the whole, namely Tambu itself. Carved out of the constraints of a dominant colonial history, Tambu changed to accommodate Curacao's shifting social and cultural realities; yet, in its continued transformation, Tambu has served as a source of further change. From this perspective, the ritual upsets--in form and content--the linearity of the island's dominant history, in the end become a worthwhile tool for examining some of the complexities and social implications of Curacao's colonial past and present. The ritual seems to dodge description. It intertwines the sacred and the secular, it follows both private and public cultural pathways, and it comprises a multifaceted repertoire of traditions, collectively evoking both Africa and the New World, able to recall imagined pasts while articulating perceived realities. As a result, Tambu permits divergent readings, placing it alongside other, often misunderstood, Black Atlantic performance traditions, including Rara from Haiti and Jankunu from Jamaica and the Bahamas. Like these cultural complexes, Tambu has appeared to dominant powers as a secular celebration, but, in fact, has served as a religious ceremony as well, using an African-inspired approach to performance. An analysis of Tambu provides a powerful opportunity to examine some of the ways Afro-Caribbean rituals may emerge between the sacred and secular, enabling participants with multiple and even overlapping senses of New World belonging. This essay extends current research (de Jong 2007, 2008) by connecting contemporary Tambu to an analysis of Curacao's history. Central to this research has been a collection of interviews (taped and/or transcribed) stored in Curacao's Centraal Historisch Archief. This diverse interview collection comprises the work of several dedicated individuals, notably Elis Juliana, a writer and visual artist, Paul Brenneker, a Catholic priest, and Rene Rosalia, an anthropologist, currently serving as Curacao's Minister of Culture. With many of th
非洲-库拉索寓言Tambu是一种受非洲启发的音乐和舞蹈仪式，在库拉索岛(荷属安的列斯群岛中最大的)奴隶制时期发展起来。(1)作为非裔库拉索人活动的明确空间，坦布将不同的文化和种族群体联系在一起，建立了不同的个人和集体归属感。然而，坦布并不是各种传统的大熔炉;不同的文化影响还没有相互融合。更确切地说，库拉索岛过去奴隶时代的各种文化元素在坦布被层层整合。剥去这些层，就像把一个错综复杂的拼图拆成一个个独立的碎片，每一块都是非洲库拉索复杂的殖民历史的一部分，尽管它们相互关联。然而，无论这些单独的作品如何引人入胜，它们的真实形式和意义只有在整体背景下才会显现出来，即Tambu本身。坦布摆脱了殖民统治历史的束缚，做出了改变，以适应库拉索岛不断变化的社会和文化现实;然而，在其持续的变革中，坦布已成为进一步变革的源泉。从这个角度来看，仪式在形式和内容上颠覆了岛上主要历史的线性，最终成为研究库拉索岛殖民历史和现在的复杂性和社会影响的有价值的工具。这种仪式似乎难以描述。它将神圣和世俗交织在一起，遵循私人和公共的文化路径，它包括多方面的传统，共同唤起非洲和新世界，能够回忆想象中的过去，同时表达感知到的现实。因此，坦布允许不同的解读，将其与其他经常被误解的大西洋黑人表演传统放在一起，包括来自海地的Rara和来自牙买加和巴哈马的Jankunu。就像这些文化综合体一样，坦布似乎是作为一种世俗的庆祝活动，但实际上，它也被用作一种宗教仪式，采用了一种非洲风格的表演方式。对坦布的分析提供了一个强有力的机会，可以检查非洲加勒比仪式在神圣与世俗之间可能出现的一些方式，使参与者具有多重甚至重叠的新世界归属感。本文通过将当代坦布与库拉索岛历史的分析联系起来，扩展了当前的研究(de Jong 2007, 2008)。这项研究的核心是库拉索中央历史档案馆保存的采访(录音和/或转录)。这本多样化的访谈集包括了几位敬业人士的作品，其中最著名的是作家兼视觉艺术家埃利斯·朱莉安娜(Elis Juliana)、天主教牧师保罗·布伦内克(Paul Brenneker)和人类学家雷内·罗莎利亚(Rene Rosalia)，他目前担任库拉索岛的文化部长。这些采访大多是在20世纪早期和中期进行的，其中一些采访对象是曾经被奴役的非裔库拉索人，这本合集为坦布的进化和转变提供了宝贵的见解，并允许创建一个标记的时间线。然而，这篇文章最重要的是我自己的实地研究，进行了十三年(1995-2008)，在此期间我参加了许多坦布活动。我从各种各样的人那里收集数据，从热心的追随者到慷慨激昂的反对者。因为坦布的参与者可能会因为参与而面临社会和宗教的报复，那些仍然敢于参与的人只能在非常保密的情况下参与。即使是那些只承认坦布是民间传说的人，也对这项仪式的调查持怀疑态度或持评判态度。因此，民族学家和库拉索人之间的联系既不容易建立，也不容易维持。…
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Pub Date : 2010-03-22DOI: 10.5406/BLACMUSIRESEJ.30.1.0183
J. Green
Edmund Thornton Jenkins was born in Charleston, South Carolina, in April 1894, one of the eight children of Lena James Jenkins and her husband, the Reverend Daniel Joseph Jenkins. They had established the Orphan Aid Society in 1891, better known as the Jenkins Orphanage. As well as their own children, they took responsibility for over five hundred waifs and strays. Most were placed in a farm-reformatory in Ladson, near the city, where they grew vegetables and obtained a basic education. Others were lodged in the Old Marine Hospital on Franklin Street, Charleston, and there were taught to read and write, and in practical skills which, while destined to support them when independent adults, provided the orphanage with revenue. These included bread making, jobbing printing and a weekly newspaper (the Charleston Messenger), shoe repairs, laundry, and music making. Choirs, up to five bands, jubilee singers, and girl duos and trios brought attention to the orphanage through public performances, traveling to Florida, as well as to New York and elsewhere in the North. They gathered alms and practical support, and collected one quarter of the funds required to keep the institution solvent. The city eventually provided some money, reaching $1,000 a year in the 1910s--for the orphans were black, and city, county, and state were white-run and almost blind to the needs of the African Americans who made up half of the state's population at that time. Skillfully negotiating between Charleston's powerful white elite and the extreme poverty of so many of his people, the Reverend Jenkins was an exemplary figure to the youngsters. Black-led churches had leading roles in Southern life, as did charitable Northerners who founded, funded, and taught at many of the region's black colleges and schools. The elite among the African Americans of Charleston attended Avery Institute, and had lessons in the Eurocentric tradition. Edmund Jenkins went to Avery, then to the Atlanta Baptist College in Georgia (later Morehouse College). Already able to play violin, piano, and trumpet, Jenkins came under the influence of music tutor Kemper Harreld and future author Benjamin Brawley when in Atlanta. Harreld, whose wife Claudia taught German, classics, and piano in Atlanta, was fully conversant with European art music. Born in 1885 in Muncie, Indiana, he had moved to Atlanta in 1911 to head the music department. Edmund Jenkins was his favorite pupil. Historians have investigated African-American music with an emphasis on jazz and blues and as a consequence the contributions and values of musical people like the Harrelds have been overlooked. In their house were violins, cellos, a viola, and a piano as well as much sheet music. The college had many instruments, and its president John Hope had two sons who played the clarinet and the trombone. Harreld and other residents of black Atlanta gave music lessons privately. Claudia's brother Lucien White was the music critic of the well-respec
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