the bloomington contra dance~

I think I met our goal for this evening at the Bloomington Contra-Dance: I definitely had fun. I was able to observe all the characteristics of a participatory event and at the same time enjoy myself and become a part of the festive atmosphere. This event made me feel that I was a part of something bigger than myself. It was different than any other mainstream forum for public dancing because everyone was working together and collaborating and every individual was a part of the whole. The more experienced dancers worked to make sure the newer dancers were included and helped us understand the moves better, and this improved the skill of the entire group. It was very democratic and non-hierarchical.

The contra dance embodied several participatory values. Every single person was essential to the success of the dance-- the caller, the musicians, and every single dancer on the floor. It was easy to see this because if one person or a couple or a square were off beat or did a move wrong, the entire row fell apart. It was quite difficult to coordinate all of the dancers, even though we walked through the dance beforehand without music; I think it was because there were so many newcomers. But even though we made it more challenging for the group as a whole, there was no sense of inequality between the more experienced and less experienced.

I thought the entire experience was so much fun. From the moment I got there, I never felt left out or frustrated even though I was a beginner. I tried to dance with more experienced partners, and that allowed me to improve the longer the night went on. It was still challenging, but by the end I felt more comfortable with the moves and began to understood how I fit into the larger group as an individual dancer. It became so seamless at one point that I didn't have to think about my own individual steps anymore, and I just sort of floated from neighbor to partner to other people up and down the row. I like contra dance better than swing dancing (the other type of participatory dance I've tried) because you get a chance to dance with more people through the course of the evening.

I think it helps to have an open mind to this sort of experience. Yes, some of the people in this cultural cohort are a little eccentric. But everyone was kind and inclusive and I would certainly attend again. I think it is important to be tolerant and flexible and just try to have a good time. People are genuinely excited to include you in the contra dance community. Also, participatory music and social action have the ability to bring people together without a sense of competition. They allow for flow and communitas and an alternative community setting outside the capitalist framework where emphasis is placed on values like democracy and social inclusiveness. Communities with these sorts of shared values can allow people to see a bigger picture outside the individual cultural cohort. Communities like the contra dance community coordinate with other grassroots communities (ie the farmer's market) to work together towards a common goal and make a difference in our world. Also, contra dancing is SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!!

the punks are alright~

After watching The Punks are Alright, I felt a new appreciation for punk music and gained a new understanding of its relevance and tangible impact on the world today. Before the movie, I had a general impression of punk music-- I identified it with countercultural movements and rebellions, but always saw it as an almost pointless, directionless release of anger and a directly confrontational and inefficient type of music. I did not see the big picture, the networks it creates across the globe, and I did not fully appreciate what it stands for and what it offers to people who have no other 'remedy' in their lives. This movie brought me that new understanding and allowed me to view the punk scene as something more. I learned that while punk music is a confrontational form of action, it it is not directionless; it creates a participatory field through confrontational means and unites people all over the world into a community outside of society, drawing attention to a shared message and creating solutions outside the capitalist system.

Part of why the movie was so effective in clearing away my misconceptions of punk music is because it provided a platform for real people to tell their individual stories about punk and its effect on their lives. Following the chain of influence from the Forgotten Rebels in Canada to the Blind Pigs in Brazil to Bastagan/Superman is Dead in Indonesia gave personal stories and faces to a genre that for me was initially just impersonal and loud and pointless. I began to understand the positions these people were in and the integral part that punk played in their lives; I identified indirectly in many ways with the artists and respected their initiative in incorporating punk into their very being. I now see punk as more than just music; I see it as a DIY, creative solution to seemingly inescapable situations and an escape from an ingrained capitalist culture. Punk has the ability to foster empowerment and to let people to take back control over their lives. (In Indonesia, it is powerful enough to dispel the "slave mentality" created by Dutch colonialism decades ago and perpetuated by modern capitalism. It is also an alternative to making the choice between the religious orthodoxy of Islam and western-based consumption.) Punk allows people to create an entire new community outside "the system"-- a community with ideals outside of the capitalist framework. The movie also allowed me to better know my part in their story, as a citizen of the world.

I am aware of the economic disparities between developed countries (the United States in particular) and the third world nations where we plant our factories and take advantage of cheap labor. I know the US is responsible for the crippling of governments in these host countries and their forced dependence on foreign investment; I know American factories create underpaid, unsafe, miserable jobs. I know that we take advantage of other nations and that "this is capitalism." But whenever I think about these issues I become overwhelmed and frustrated; I sometimes hide behind the illusion of distance (geographical, usually) and rarely end up changing my habits as a consumer. But I do realize the interconnectedness of politics, economics, and people around the globe and I know the world is getting smaller because of this. This movie has helped me come to terms with how much my choices and actions directly impact people around the globe, people with real lives like in The Punks are Alright. It also highlights the part that music plays in helping these people create awareness for their cause.

I cannot possibly begin to imagine everything these artists have gone through and exactly how much punk music means to them. Punk is not a part of my life like it is theirs because, from my privileged position on the other end of this capitalist system, I do not have the same need for it as they do. But though we do not share the same individual experiences, I can indirectly relate to their lifeways because the concept of using music as an escape is one that I identify with (though our circumstances and environments are completely different). I play music to be out of myself, and I appreciate the idea of using music not against other people but as a form of personal expression and self liberation. I also admire the creativity and resolve of these artists because sometimes when confronted with huge issues I become frustrated and paralyzed. Seeing these people create an outlet, a way out, in the midst of poverty and oppression is simply inspirational. 

the bloomington farmer's market

In visiting the Bloomington farmer's market and observing its attractions, it was very easy for me to see how this place follows the participatory model. Certain qualities of the market reminded me of several of the aspects of participatory music, and when making observations I mentally compared the two (the farmer's market and a participatory music making venue) to see how similar they actually were.

While at the market, I compared the interactions throughout the morning with those one would typically see in a "high-fidelity" grocery shopping alternative (such as Kroger's). The farmer's market was different in several major ways. First of all, people seemed to be there to socialize almost as much as buy things; I witnessed customers and vendors interacting on a first-name basis and having familiar conversations as transactions were made, something that would never happen at a supermarket. In general, shoppers seemed very laid back and took their time (as opposed to the hurried, "get-in-get-out" attitudes of supermarket-shoppers). Many carried reusable bags (the food at the stalls was minimally packaged, and vendors rarely gave out plastic bags). There were also musical ensembles of all kinds (standup bass/guitar/fiddle/banjo, guitar, fiddle/irish step dance, guitar/harmonica/bass, African drummer/dancer) which added to the comfortable atmosphere.

The atmosphere was also much more festive than at a typical supermarket; there were performers (musicians and dancers), small children dancing, and people of all ages exchanging pleasantries and eating as they walked. I also noticed that the farmer's market community was extremely diverse; there were people ranging in age from babies in strollers to elderly people with oxygen tanks, and people of several different religions (I saw a muslim woman in a hijab and several Amish or Mennonite vendors) (these differences were only the ones I could see, not idealogical). However, everyone shared a similar purpose for being there: to socialize, share music, exchange fresh produce and other products, and enjoy the morning and company of others. Everyone there had a different role, of course (customer, vendor, performer, etc.) but they were all essential to the farmer's market community and there was no hierarchy or level of importance. The emphasis was not on the end product but on the doing, the human interactions and spending time with others-- much like the goal of participatory music is social bonding.

Here is my social map of the farmer's market. 

Other than near the musical ensembles, there was not really any one place that was more popular than another or had a greater concentration of people near it; people were almost equally interspersed throughout the entire market, browsing and shopping. The areas with performing musicians saw a bit more traffic but their audiences weren't static and people did not really stay in one place for very long. The atmosphere was not concentrated in one spot; it was everywhere.

four fields of music making

i. Participatory Music
The example I chose for participatory music performance is a bit similar to the Shona religious ceremony in the chapter by Berliner. I found that Haitian vodou practices are traditionally participatory, with musicians and dancers feeding off of each other during the ceremony and focused on "the doing" or a common goal (prayers for the spirits). Vodou drumming in particular is highly intuitive and dependent on the other members of the circle and the dancers, making it especially inclusive and egalitarian.
Although most of the younger people in Haiti are drawn to western artistic forms and there are many popular Haitian artists (mostly American-inspired rappers) that perform within the fields of presentational and high-fidelity music, vodou traditionalists participate in a collective ceremony (like the bira of our reading) that exists outside the influence of the US (or other countries that emphasize the qualities of presentational and hi-fi music). This pocket of musical traditionalism (in a country that has been vulnerable to the influences of many world powers over the years, in every way-- even music) is limited in that it does not hold a universal appeal and does not attract an audience in the way that another field of music would; but that is not its purpose. The strength of this field of music making is that it unites participants and allows them to collectively bond in their activity.

I'm really sad that this video doesn't have the visual, but you can almost hear what it looks like. :)



ii. Presentational Music
The example I chose for a presentational music performance is a U2 concert from their 360 tour in 2011. I chose this because it was a spectacular event. The tour sold out every date within minutes of the tickets going on sale, and was aesthetically unlike any concert I had ever seen. The stage was configured so that the audience could almost completely surround the stage (hence 360) and a massive structure ("The Claw") was built above it with the sound system and an expanding cylindrical video screen on top. These special effects alone were certainly enough to keep the audience's attention (with his face magnified 100x on the screen, Bono's virtuosity was certainly showcased) but the band's interaction with the audience and the atmosphere of the show in general were unreal.
I also thought this concert would be a good example of presentational music because it deals with some capitalistic ideas-- the tour generated $736 million in ticket sales and was marketed as an unprecedented and innovative product. The audience bought tickets expecting to be entertained, those expectations were met and exceeded in many ways (at least for me), and the people on the other end made a lot of money. The tour also has identifiable characteristics of presentational music making: the band had infinite artistic freedom, room to show off and shine as individuals (Bono is a ham, but we all knew that already), and the goal of the show was not to intimately include the audience but to provide a spectacle for them. Our participation was not essential for the band to do their thing; we experienced a different type of flow on the ground and in the stadium than the four musicians did onstage, even though they did include us in some songs. This limitation was expected and did not bother me; the show did a brilliant job at what it was designed to do: entertain.

(Yes, this is the full concert... just in case you'd like the whole thing.)



iii. High Fidelity Performance
The song I chose for an example of a high fidelity performance is the song 'Blurred Lines' by Robin Thicke. It's currently number one on iTunes, and it's actually popular in Europe right now too (the first time I heard it was in France a few weeks ago-- it was on every radio station). The song itself indexes a live performance and sounds like something that could conceivably be performed live, but at the same time if you focus you can hear the influence of studio engineering (in the layering of tracks-- repetition of the MJ-ish screams and the timing of the cowbell).
I thought this was a good example of a hi-fi performance because this song was "performed" (recorded) with the objective of topping the charts, and the music itself is a commodified object. In our society this is perfectly normal; I wouldn't normally think twice about it. The fact that this song is being sold all over the world is one of the strengths of hi-fi recording;  marketing music as a "product" increases universal interest and access in a way that participatory music making does not. At the same time, although hi-fi music is intended to preserve the feeling of a live performance, it is still in reality just a copy, and some might say its authenticity is somewhat diminished.



iv. Studio-Audio Art
The song I chose as an example for studio-audio art is produced by two Austrian DJs. I've heard dubstep and disco before but I'm actually not very familiar with studio-audio art, and I learned about this song through an overseas friend (who claims that electronic music is very popular in France in Spain right now). When you listen to the synthesized sounds of this song (I really love it), there is no expectation that it should be performed live, and that's really fascinating to me because this piece of music exists as a separate entity and is free from any connection to an "original."
Studio-Audio Art is still sort of an enigma to me. It's not about achieving a collective feeling or stressing individual talents or replicating and selling a live performance. It doesn't emphasize individuals or virtuosity but at the same time it doesn't downplay either because it exists so separately from any kind of humanness. It's just abstract. I suppose this lack of human interaction can be seen as a limitation to some people, but at the same time it's the central characteristic of this field. I think it's really cool.

emotion and meaning in music~ a story about the leogane track club

When I think of the musical-emotional connections I’ve experienced throughout my life and sift through them to the most powerful, there is one piece of music that is so strong an index that it stands out to me unequivocally. This song is by K’naan, and every time I listen to it, my current emotional state is immediately transformed. I’ve told this story many times, but I’ll tell it again.

It was in Léogâne, Haiti. There was red dirt in the air and salt on my skin as I ran together with the Léogâne track club through sugar cane fields and over rural roads still covered with earthquake rubble. I was surrounded by a group of young boys ages 10 to 12 (who lived in the tent city near my residence), and we were running through the Caribbean sunset to the sea. We were singing. 

It was the summer of 2010, and Spain had just won the World Cup in South Africa. In Haiti, another country full of soccer enthusiasts, it was a time of great excitement; friends and neighbors would watch the games crowded around a small TV under someone’s tarp, everyone pitching in a few gourdes for the generator. K’naan, the Somali rapper, recorded an unofficial anthem for the competition, and it was this song that we sang together that evening on our run, at the top of our lungs, shouting to the rosy sky.

“When I get older, I will be stronger. They’ll call me freedom, just like a wavin’ flag.”
It was the words specifically, carried by the exuberant voices of the boys around me, where I first found meaning. I saw their singing as a promise to “be stronger” for their country, to find freedom for a broken Haiti. I felt a part of it. 

Now I realize it was more than that. It was the communitas of this joyful experience—the stripping away of all cross-cultural differences to the basic similarities of being human, running and pushing our bodies, rejoicing in being alive, and loving that beautiful country—that really affected me. It filled me with such optimism to know that these boys were the future of Haiti. They were brimming with hope and contagious happiness, and I was swept up by their energy. The oneness of that moment I will never forget.  

Whenever I hear this song now, it brings to mind that run, that moment, those tangible emotions around us in the humid Haitian air. I now recognize ‘Wavin’ Flag’ as a sign, and the emotions of that moment as the object it indexes. Whatever mood I’m in before I listen to it is immediately replaced by the exuberant and utterly joyful state that we shared together during that evening. To me, this song’s interpretant is a sense of joy and above all, hope. This song has the power to utterly transform my mental state from sadness or defeat or frustration to one of optimism. It sometimes leads to a semiotic chain of motivation and inspiration and sparks new chains of thought about Haiti that have begun to shape the direction in which my life is going. 

(I just found this video tonight, after I finished writing. This version is a tribute to 3rd world children-- I didn't even know it existed.) 

a musical portrait

Who am I?

I am a wild child~

This song reminds me of shouting from the top of Pike's Peak or the spray of white water from the Flathead River. It brings to mind the salty smell of a rocky coastline in Maine and the sparkle of Lake Michigan waves at sunset. And it's me.

I've always tried to make time for the wild places around me, make them a part of who I am. I'm drawn to these spaces because I always feel most like myself when I'm under the open sky or surrounded by mountains.

Besides connecting me to the beauty of these natural environments, this song also brings me in touch with my inner "wilderness," the deepest and most essential part of me that "[doesn't] wanna live up to anyone's plans." I am not a wild child in the sense that I live without any sort of standard. But I do feel free; I refuse to be trapped (physically or mentally, by others or myself), and I'm open to anything that may come my way and everything the world would like to teach me.

I'm part of a whole~

Where am I from? I don't like to answer this question with a location; it's true that where I've lived has definitely shaped my identity to a degree, but it hasn't been the most important influence. More than any location, the factor that's most determined who I am is not a place, but a group of people.

I'm really a product of my family, both immediate and extended. They've always been a part of me, and I couldn't imagine myself as a person without them; the memories and experiences we've shared, the lessons they've taught me, and their unconditional love have all allowed me to become more complete and to better define myself as an individual. This lyrics of this song state literally what I've always known: that "it's cool to love your family." It represents for me the invaluable time I've spent with my own and their impact on my life.

I’m trying to learn grace~

I value this above all else. Learning how to see the goodness in everything, to “make beauty out of ugly things,” to accept that which is outside of my control, to travel outside the petty and mundane—none of these things has ever come easily to me. I’ve listened to this song countless times over the years while lying awake at night, trying to learn grace. I think it’s pretty much the most important quality a person can possess.

This song also brings to mind a person who has grace: my dad. He’s loved U2 since they formed, and whenever I listen to their music I’m transported to the concerts I spent with him. Those shows were special; I felt one with the audience-- even one with Bono, The Edge, Adam and Larry-- and especially one with my dad. I think we had grace those nights.

Now is my start~

College is a new start. Here is a clean slate, a place for a deeper kind of self-discovery—one that I haven’t had a chance to begin before now. Just like college is about finding yourself, so is this song. It’s about becoming who you are meant to be, about seizing and loving the moment and embarking on a journey that will lead you where you need to go. This song is full of possibilities, and it means so much to me at this point in life because I’m about to face into so many.

To me, this song is about embracing the future, about running with open arms to meet whatever is coming, about accepting the unknown with a smile. These other songs in this post are about where I’ve been. This song is about where I will go.