Music and Society

Music and society are interminably linked. Music is influenced by the events of the world and the nature of living, and society in turn reacts to the statement that music makes. 

Music is extraordinarily powerful in that it can represent innumerable things, or in some cases, nothing at all; it simply exists for the sake of existing. Regardless of what the composer(s)' intent for his/her work may have been, a piece of music can inspire or agitate. It can illustrate an ideal, and drive people to unified (or mutinous) thoughts and actions. 

My Irish Literature teacher told my class of how hymns and melancholy ballades would be played over the radio, in pubs, and in the streets of Northern Ireland. Their deeply nationalistic nature would stir the patriotism and gallantry of the young men of Ireland, compelling them to join the Nationalist cause against those loyal to Great Britain. 

Just listen to practically any Shostakovich piece, and you are hearing his discontented cynicism toward the Soviet Union. I was able to study and play his eighth quartet over the summer; a work that is chock full of political undertones, mockery, subliminal emotion. The irony is that I had heard the piece many times before, and had thought myself familiar with it until then. Even before I knew of Shostakovich's musical signature, his fear and distrust of his country, I was able to feel the unrest of the piece and derive my own impressions.  

There are many genres of (popular) music in the U.S. alone. Each genre carries with it a notion of the audience that listens to it. I for one associate Kenny Chesney fans with cowboy hats, racks of ribs, and tailgate parties, having seen thousands of them when he was playing in Cleveland. I am sure that people who do not care for classical music think of silver-haired socialites and elitist snobbery. Music reflects a society. It can serve as a history lesson, for like the rings of a tree, a certain piece of music, or song, serves as a window to the dynamic of the world at the time.

Cool Stuff No. 2

Ever heard of a theremin? It's an electronic musical instrument invented in Russia circa 192os. It's controlled without actually touching the device. I mention it because my friend sent me this YouTube video for some laughs:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=09q9JFceY10&feature=related

That ensemble (if you made it through the video, hehe) was playing the Matryomin, a variant of the theremin invented by Masami Takeuchi. The theremin fits inside a Russian matryoshka, or nesting doll.

It's the melding of two distinct cultures: Japan and Russia! The result is an instrument that is as diverse and bizarre as any I've ever seen...

I loved the sound of the Oud, and came across oud player Ali Hassan:

I tried visiting to the website, learnoud.com, but it's all in Arabic. :(

P.S. This makes me really miss Mark the grad student...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJYe4g_kUj4

This next oud player is seriously cool. He developed a technique to play the instrument one-handed, in order to give amputees and disabled persons an opportunity to make music!!! Awesome.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yY152bc_pjA&feature=related

I was also very intrigued by the Sarangi, and this video provides an excellent, detailed view of the instrument and the player. You can see the tabla player in the background as well!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lXpAdV926cY 

Music and Rites

The birthday song! Perhaps one of the more infamous (and banal) musical rites in life. Music serves so many purposes, and an especially significant use is to mark the trials and tribulations that are all part of our existence. My grandfather prides himself in discovering the magic solution to cease my incessant crying as a newborn: putting on a Mozart record. In fact, I associate my entire childhood with some sort of a soundtrack, for that's exactly what our home movies denote. My parents, in an attempt to make make our baby videos somewhat "entertaining", would play background music befitting the mood of the scene. One scene in particular is of me falling asleep in a rocking high chair, and my father actually times the rocking perfectly to the song "Moving in Stereo" by the Cars. My mother is feeding me to Roxy Music in another, shoving the spoon into my mouth on the downbeats. My first steps are to Beethoven's triumphant Eroica Symphony (really).

A poignant instance of music and rites happened during a high school retreat. One of my close friends spoke with us about her inner struggles. When she came to a turning point in her narrative, she would play a song that represented the past chapter of her life. To hear the music with which she connected, and by which she felt consoled, made me feel all the closer to her soul. It was a moving experience to be invited to share in her difficult moments, which were manifested in her music. It holds true to all of us; just as a familiar smell or place will evoke memories of our past lives, music also stirs in us our past selves, and helps us to realize who we have become.  

I know that a wedding is a cliched example of a musical rite, but having attended my cousin's over Christmas break, it reminded me of how music My grandfather always says of weddings that "There is no excuse to not have a good time", and he could not be more spot on. It is not even about what was being played (ahem, Macarena), so much that the music draws people out onto the dance floor; I felt at home among my family, we were all in one place and celebrating in the same way. 

      

Music and Religion

I've been brought up in (and remain a semi-active member of) the Roman Catholic Church. Liturgical music has always been a prevalent entity of my life. My mother prides herself in being a member of our parish choir for twenty years, even singing entirely throughout her pregnancy with me. I have played violin for countless Masses and prayer services, and by simply going through the motions of attending Church every week, becoming accustomed to the liturgical calendar and the cycle of hymns therein, the music of my faith has been etched in my subconscious. 

Music in Christianity is meant to bring the congregation together. With (hopefully) everyone joining in song, we are unified all the more strongly in proclaiming our faith; as Sister Margaret would say: "When you sing you're praying twice!" The assembly of Vatican II in the 1960s brought on the institution of modernized practices in the Roman Catholic Church. No longer would the Mass be said entirely in Latin, nor would there be long stretches of chant. Many of the "old fashioned" hymns' verses were re-written in colloquial English, in place of the antiquated, Shakespearian prose. I can wholly understand the intent of these changes, for when one actually apprehends and can participate in a liturgy, s/he can connect more intensely with the faith.

For me, I derive a deeper spiritual fulfillment from the solemnity of tradition. By trying to smooth the rough edges of a service that is otherwise seen as "cold" and intimidating, I think one loses the sanctity of it.

I attended a German Mass in downtown Cleveland the day before I returned to Converse. Although I did not have the slightest idea of what the Gospel or readings were about, I still connected with the music. To hear a real pipe organ instead of a keyboard and electric drum set, to sing a traditional carol, verse by verse (even in a language that I could barely pronounce), I felt comforted, at home, and spiritually moved. I rediscovered the importance of music in religious celebration. 

Cool Stuff

Okay, I just have to follow up on my erhu post with this. No introduction required.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFjAe2ATizk

Since the movie only gave me a small taste of it, I wanted to see more jingle dancing! I'm not sure which aspect of the dance I enjoy the most: the colors, the synchronized movement, or the shininess! Unfortunately, you cannot really hear the jingle in this vid.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z2Ewmqr3Odk&feature=related

...and who didn't love that chicken dance? It's amazing how the dancers can truly capture the essence and weirdness that is a chicken, and still have the dance be graceful and beautiful!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PY2bvOPiy08

Music and Movement

I've never known a child whose parents had to teach him/her to dance. My parents have hours of video footage of my brother and me, marching elatedly to Schubert's Marche Militaire, stamping our feet to Roy Orbison's Pretty Woman, leaping and screaming to Tchaikovsky's Capriccio Italian. Even pieces that did not lend themselves well to "dancing" were able to stir up our feet and get us moving. I cannot begin to recall how many times I have been sitting in a concert, waiting room, or even browsing the shelves in a bookstore, that my toes have inadvertantly begun tapping, or my that head has been bobbing slightly to a (catchy) tune.

Music and movement have been a power couple since the beginning of humanity. Dancing is just as much a means of expressing emotion as speech. Our own bodies pulse to a natural rhythm. We mimick nature through gestures; we describe and react with our hands and faces. Dancing is how my grandparents fell in love.

Some form of expressive movement can be found in every culture throughout the world. Music is a springboard for many forms of artistic communication, and movement, inspired by a throbbing bass line or a jaunty melody, is fundamental to the human condition.

Erhu, are you? (aka A Musical Autobiography)

I did not know whether to feign excitement or admit to my utter clueless when Maeve called me one afternoon, announcing that she was the proud owner of an erhu.  She had recently returned from a school excursion to China, and upon declaring her latest procurement, I knew immediately that I was in for an adventure. So, confessing my ignorance, I told her not to reveal the mysterious erhu's identity; that I would pay a visit and see for myself what it was. Maeve is the brainy, musical one of my friends. We actually became friends over a Telemann Duo Sonata, Maeve on flute, myself on violin. We have been playing Irish jigs, Scottish reels, and dreadful Harry Potter arrangements together ever since. We have danced at Gaelic Storm and Chieftans concerts, and composed pieces for recorder quintet (to make use of Maeve's alto recorder). I can always count on her to divulge some random factoid, or introduce me to a genre of music or instrument that I had no idea existed. When I drove over to Maeve's apartment to investigate this erhu, I was surprised to find that it was not one of her usual aerophones (as I had anticipated), but an odd type of chordophone/membranophone hybrid. 

It turns out that it is an ancient "Chinese violin". Pronounced "arr-who", It is played by resting the body of the instrument on one's lap, stretching the horsehair bow taut between one's right thumb and index finger, and pulling the hair back and forth between two strings, so close together on the "fingerboard" of the instrument that they touch. The result is a twangy, melancholy sound, not unlike the Western violin. The range between the two instruments is about the same, so it was not hard for my left hand to acclimate to the intervals on the fingerboard. The difficult part was figuring out the right way to maneuver the bow between the strings. I am so used to significantly moving my bow on the viola, moreover the bowhair is on top of the strings; yet it takes only a subtle movement to get the other string of the erhu to sound, and even more unusual (to me) is that the bowhair is actually between the strings! 

The erhu was my fascinating discovery of the summer of 2007, thanks to dear Maeve.