Appropriation of Creative Objects

Ziff, Bruce and Rao, Pratima V. (eds.) Borrowed Power: Essays on Cultural Appropriation. Rutgers University Press: New Brunswick, New Jersey (1997).

To end off my base readings I have chosen Borrowed Power. Ziff and Rao have collected and arranged several essays based on the grand theme of cultural appropriation. The book is divided into units based on what facet of culture we experience appropriation. Part one deals with cultural appropriation of music, part two with appropriation in art, and so on. I will address part one.

The authors point out early on that the notion of culture is “as indeterminate as any found within the social sciences” and that it “cannot, therefore, be relied upon to set clear limits as to where the concept of cultural appropriation begins and ends.” (p. 2) Cultural appropriation is inherently problematic; we have no finite definition of culture. An analysis of appropriation therefore looks at a system of power struggles, hence the title of the book Borrowed Power. The authors set the object of appropriation as a product of a creative endeavor. Appropriation itself is open to interpretation as there is a variety of modes of appropriation. Thinking about stakeholders in an analysis points to “relationships among communities,” and further, “we can base the organizing elements in our relation-based analysis on ethnicity, race, nationality, class, gender, and so forth.” (p. 3) We must consider and locate the stakeholders in an appropriation issue within their local context(s). A simple breakdown of elements therefore include: notion of culture, the appropriated object (tangible or intangible), type of appropriation, stakeholders and their localized contexts.

It is important to note the authors give a counterpoint to cultural appropriation, namely cultural assimilation. (p. 7) When we are looking at a cultural transmission is it an act of appropriation or assimilation? Transmission is a neutral word, where appropriation and assimilation allude to a power complex. The distinction between the two emerges in cultural evolution over and over again. The history of music shows many examples: the somewhat more recent advent of sampling in electronic music points to an act of appropriation (here a new owner finding value in a cultural/musical object that a musician already created, ie. samples of vocals, instrument hits, etc.). Electronic music now has many subgenres. For example, do Jungle or TripHop highlight the assimilation of style more so than point to an appropriation of style? Here I would argue that musicians/composers always already build their craft upon the foundation of existing trends.

Ziff and Pratima state that beyond the politics, or will to power, of appropriation, there exist values important to consider. These values are evident in the negative feedback present in acts of cultural appropriation. First is a “concern for the integrity and identities of cultural groups.” Second is that “appropriation can either damage or transform a given cultural good or practice.” Thirdly: “cultural appropriation wrongly allows some to benefit to the material (i.e., financial) detriment of others.” Finally, “current law fails to reflect alternative conceptions of what should be treated as property or ownership in cultural goods.” (pp. 8,9) I wish to bear these in mind.

In African-American Music: Dynamics of Appropriation and Innovation, Perry Hall looks at the recent history (primarily late 1800s to current) of Black music in the United States. Here we see the tension between cultural appropriation (designating a will to power) and cultural assimilation (the natural trajectory of music). Hall describes a history of a repetitive process of appropriation, exploitation, and the relinquishment of musical meaning in favor of adopting Black music’s aesthetic styles. In the latter part of the process: “The appropriated forms become ineffective as expressions and affirmations of the unique cultural experiences from which they arise.” (p. 32) The chief appropriator/exploiter has been the white musician or businessman.

I find Hall making several valid points throughout, and constructing a concise history of Black music in America, however he seems to be caught in flux between the reconcilable effects of appropriation and an understanding of the assimilation process. This is exemplary of our whole topic: dividing lines are very blurred. To a country that is encased in music and styles derived from trends in music and its fashion, we owe much to the innovations of Black performers. We would be blind to even suggest that Black music hasn’t been continuously exploited and cashed in on over the past hundred years. My question is: how can we understand the process that Hall describes now? What is our situation? Who are the stakeholders when we look at a more recent genre of Black music, such as hip-hop, and how may we define the binary of appropriation-assimilation? I am interested to discover whether or not the values Ziff and Rao discuss hold true today within Hall’s Black/white divide. Black musicians appropriate musical objects from other Black musicians (an easy example are how hip-hop musicians have repeatedly used samples from James Brown songs). I would argue that in such instances we may trace a different trajectory for musical evolution.

Towards a Universal Semiology of Music

Throughout the book Nattiez presents us with historical glimpses into the ethnomusicological paradigms. One I enjoy, however only briefly touched upon in Music and Discourse, is the field’s acknowlegement of the intelligence/theoretical savvy of the Other (in this case we refer to non-western music origins). Nattiez notes, “We have gradually discovered (by examining the metaphorical language borrowed from the conceptual universe, especially the religious universe, unique to each culture) that the “savage mind” can also operate in the realm of music theory, with a precision that is a bit disturbing for smug western feelings of superiority.” (p. 105). Slowly the western elite give up their western man and the other division to acknowledge the diversity of critical thought and narrative in non-European and American contexts, pertaining to the construction of music. This beckons the question, though I am not intending to immediately defeat the purpose of Nattiez’s book, of whether or not it is possible to construct a semiological toolkit for analyzing all of the music of the world, and furthermore where society is really to gain from this undertaking. First is the nature of music itself. Can we transcribe all of the meanings into written and spoken word? Are we reducing the significance or purpose of music by doing so? Nattiez presents a chart of the common tonalities (C major, D minor, etc.) (pp. 124-126). The point here is to show that different composers each attribute different feelings or emotions to each tonality. The meaning therefore can be said to vary based on interpretation. This I see as a basic example of how the whole mission of creating a semiology of music is highly problematic from the start.

This problematic state is mirrored throughout the text. After considering a number of sources of criticism on the state of musicology by leading scholars and musicologists themselves (circa 1970s), Nattiez remarks in a personal tone: “In other words, the musicologist is a nasty, scavenging vulture, and obviously of no use whatsoever.” He continues, “Lurking behind all of these statements is a latent assumption: that music itself is capable of speaking about itself, without the mediation of a metalanguage.” (p. 152) The problem is amplified as the musical fact is surrounded by a multitude of metalanguage or anthropological discourse. Nattiez paraphrases Paul Ricoeur: “as soon as someone dances, sings, or plays an instrument, someone else gets up and talks about it.” (p. 183) At this point I am feeling sympathetic for Nattiez’s quest for unification at the academic level. I do still have to question the grand use or more so the grand potential for such endeavor. I fear the fate of a universal semiology of music to be an ever-incomplete project. However, maybe this will bring us closer to what we need to shift around in musical thought from common genre to the distant unknown.

Music and Semiology

Nattiez, Jean-Jacques. Music and Discourse: Toward a Semiology of Music. Princeton University Press: Princeton, New Jersey (1990).

In wanting to cover a few different disciplinary approaches to the subject matter of academic research in music, I find such a rounded inquiry inadequate without the direct approach of musicology. Nattiez’s Music and Discourse presented me with such introspect. In Music and Discourse, Nattiez acts as proponent to developing a semiological system for music. He begins by borrowing a conceptual framework from two notable semiologists, perhaps the founders of semiology, Ferdinand de Saussure and Charles Sanders Pierce. Throughout the book, Nattiez uses a triad equation (“tripartition”): music can be analyzed at the neutral, poietic, and aesthetic levels; this is the structure of his music semiology. Within this basic equation, under the poietic and aesthetic processes, Nattiez breaks it down to: “Producer”-> Trace<-Receiver.” (p. 17) We locate a message, a piece of music for example, in the flux of this, ready to receive our semological thought, and so on. I don’t want to elaborate further here on Nattiez’s reconstruction of a semiology for music. He makes several interesting claims throughout the book that shed light on issues of the matter, of the history of attempts to analyze music; these will be my focus.

Context
Beyond defining a semiological toolkit, Nattiez discusses the concept of music. The troubled nature of talking about music is summarized in two points: “Do we have a stable definition of music, and the musical, available to us?” And, “Is it legitimate to speak of “music” with respect to cultures that do not have such a concept, that distinguish between music and nonmusic?” Thus, Nattiez sets the grand context of discussion in his work as a “western, North American-European context.” (p. 41)

The musical fact
The old binary of music-noise is brought up here. Nattiez goes in depth to discuss how we may reach distinction between the two. By defining one, we reach the other. He cites the work of John Cage, who is famous for, among other things, 4’33”, a silent piano composition. This piece is often referred to in discussions pertaining to the music or noise question. Nattiez concludes in part; “The distinction between sound and noise has no stable, physical basis, and the way we employ these two terms is culturally conditioned from the outset.” (p. 46). Also, in one of Nattiez’s humorous observations: “It is hardly surprising that, at any given time, composers who have adopted sounds that others consider “noise” would either like to be considered revolutionaries, or have come to be regarded as such by others…” In the end, there is no consensus between what is noise and what is sound (p. 47).

Liverpool music scene

On the Liverpool music scene (Chapter 7)

Sara Cohen discusses the notion of a distinct style of music in Liverpool, most notably starting with the Beatles in the 1950s and 1960s. Based on Soundtracks idea of fixity and fluidity, this essay looks more at the fixity of music on a certain place. The argument here is that what is often assumed is the globalized village account of rock or electronic music…where boundaries are constantly being torn down. Cohen contrasts this viewpoint by mapping out Liverpool and sourcing musicians and publications to present findings on opinions of the matter. She gives distinct boundaries in the forms of religion, history, neighborhood, economic, and ethnic factors.

Brazilian culture continued

What I find most intriguing about Reily’s essay on Brazilian culture is how one person can have such a great influence on society. It is interesting how Andrade functioned first on as a notable author, secondly as someone who took it upon himself to actively evaluate the variety and historical lineage of Brazilian musical styles. He conducted research on the psyches of composers/musicians in Brazilian and the audience within a cultural context. He constructed meta-narrative on the role of the artist and the intellectual in society. As stated, Reily presents Andrade as shaped and formed by both the intellectual role he played and those around him, those he was concerned with. This is all in the context of Andrade’s strong feeling, a moral obligation to better the Brazilian, and bolter support for, basically, a reevaluation/redefinition of Brazil itself. This is perhaps the most striking part of the story. Reily points out: “Already in the Ensaio Mario was calling on composers to ‘see beyond [their] desires for celebrity,’ and assume ‘a social function’ in the country, by writing choral music, because ‘choral singing unifies individuals;…[it] generalizes sentiments’ (1962: 65).” (p 89) Reily continues to display the progression of Andrade as activist.

Ethnicity, Identity, and Music

Stokes, Martin (Ed.). Ethnicity, Identity, and Music: The Musical Construction of Place. Berg Publishers: New York, NY. (1997)

With Ethnicity, Identity, and Music, I have chosen to read a selection of chapters as they are individual essays. Several chapters overlap in theme and point; for example three of the chapters deal directly with the construction of national identity through music. Thus, I have chosen to read the introduction: Ethnicity, Identity and Music, chapter four: National Anthems: The Case of Chopin as a National Composer, chapter five: Macunaima’s Music: National Identity and Ethnomusicological Research in Brazil, chapter seven: Identity, Place, and the ‘Liverpool Sound,’ and chapter ten: Music, Literature and Etiquette: Musical Instruments and Social Identity from Castiglione to Austen.

This book gives us an interesting surface read into themes we may consider when pondering the relationship of music, culture, and space/location. As Stokes lays out in the title, identity issues are a main focus of each essay. This is a good follow-up to Soundtracks, as it deals with the same overarching theme. Like said, where Soundtracks went in depth on how to approach the theme, namely Connell and Gibson basing their approach on a fixity-fluidity of music/culture binary, Ethnicity, Identity, and Music is a surface read, a collection of essays.

Much of the book is dedicated to cases of countries building up their national character/identity through music. Zdzislaw Mach takes us through how Chopin has become a significant figure for Poland. The account is on three different levels: Chopin as far as his technical, compositional skill, Chopin himself as a national hero/symbol of Polish music and art, and finally Chopin as “a remedy for the inferiority complex that the Polish intelligentisia often experiences and conceals in its mythology of greatness.” (p. 66) In the later respect, Mach writes of the illusion of inferiority Polish people have faced being separate from the apex of western European cultural production centers, namely Germany, France, England, and Italy. Much of the essay is written in this way, looking at the musical identity of Poland through the lens of a collective social psychological/emotional state, or the national soul.

In order to compare approach I chose Suzel Ana Reily’s essay on Mario de Andrade’s research on the music of Brazil. Reily presents a more complex analysis of our theme by describing the works of Andrade, who “became the intellectual leader of an entire generation…” (p. 72) Reily cites Andrade’s philosophical/social influences and contextualizes key points in his life: “Mario de Andrade’s work was clealy influenced by European intellectual tides of the late nineteenth century. It has been claimed that his ideas developed out of his reading of Levy-Bruhl, Taylor, Frazer, Freud, and later Marx.” (p. 76) We may parallel Brazil during the 1800s with Poland say, around the turn of the century, as Reily cites an inferiority complex amongst the intellectuals and upper class. Thus, both countries identify themselves based against a western European model of comparison.

In the Glitter

After reading the substantial theoretical grounding for Reconstructing Pop/Subculture, I read through the remainder of the text. I found myself referring back to the first few chapters on British cultural theory. Though I was content reading the glorious history of the Factory and glitter rock, most interesting is how Cagle intertwines cultural/subcultural themes or trends….he presents an evolutionary study: how one style or scene affects the next. Though not a definite origin, the Factory is a starting point for Cagle’s discussion, a snapshot in the time-line of subculture’s trends. It is almost perfect in its literalness: the Factory was a scene where the theme was: cultural site of production. Cagle’s descriptions mark how the Factory was a locus of people coming together and reinventing their identity. The Factory was simply open. Warhol was in effect toying with the notion that in the age of Pop anyone could attain fifteen minutes in the limelight. In this respect as well as the means and function of the art produced, the Factory was a cultural factory. Its output was its input plus a slant, often silent as in the paintings or nihilistic as was the music.

The chain of influences and appropriations that makes up the spine of cultural evolution is varied. Sometimes the evolution is a blatant influence, other times it exists as independent, affected by a prime instigator. For example, Cagle discusses how dominant Warhol was in shaping the Velvet Underground. He actively sought out musicians, at least to provide a musical counterpart to his work in the Factory. The Factory incorporated Lou Reed and his band into the production line. They were given practice space and direction. Warhol orchestrated other facets of the music/performance. He chose a female vocalist (Nico) and managed the live shows, which were spaces for his videos and multimedia.

Argued as the precursor to glitter rock, Cagle depicts the Velvet Underground as a cultural product heavily and directly shaped by the Factory. Other examples such as the Detroit scene, circa late 1960s-early 1970s (Alice Cooper, Iggy Pop and the Stooges) are depicted as having a less direct connection to the Factory. Regardless, “We can begin by considering that the New York/Warholian tradition (1965-1969) provided glitter performers with the primary themes of flamboyance, style and image construction, polymorphous sexuality, and multimedia montage as performance art.” (p. 96)

It is important to note here that the Detroit performers appropriated Warhol-type style; in a sense they piggybacked subculture style. Most interesting though is how these musicians pumped the style back into the mainstream: “As a result, a wide range of possibilities opened for fans, many of whom were limited by backgrounds or geographical locations. Thus their predominant subcultural experiences in the early 1970s occurred through the application of subcultural precepts that were transmitted by way of a mass-mediated and highly commercial format.” (p. 98)

The remainder of the book deals with David Bowie. This is significant as we are able to study how cultural, or subcultural evolution exists in relation to space. We start by looking at Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground who where influenced directly by the Factory…they even lived in it. Lyrics were often about Factory people. We then look at a different context: the auto industry hub of Detroit. We consider how bands in Detroit emerged in the early seventies, more indirectly influenced by Warholian ways. Hence, we view an appropriation at the level of subculture that in turn exposes itself at the level of mass culture. At this level of extraction, Detroit rock fans didn’t necessarily have to know about New York, Warhol, the Factory…

Cagle gives an intricate account of David Bowie’s rise to stardom and relates it to the Factory. He builds up as the reader waits in suspense for the moment the connection becomes obvious: Bowie does coffee houses. Bowie signs with a manager. Bowie does miming. Bowie becomes interested in video, and then: “…Space Oddity, a composition that was inspired in part by the film 2001: A Space Odyssey.” Cagle continues, “Most important, the theme of Space Oddity was among the first to suggest Bowie’s philosophical alignment with many of the conceptual ideas that had been explored by Andy Warhol, the Velvet Underground, and other like-minded American artists and musicians” (p. 112). We have contact.

Next comes the elaboration of the connection between Bowie’s style and Warhol. “In the studio, [Bowie] spent much time listening to the music of Iggy Pop and the Velvet Underground, and he took to heart the Warholian notion of creating a persona.”

The argument Cagle presents finds its way deeper into the correlation between Bowie’s work and all that is Warholian. As the chapter entitled Foundation of Glitter Rock comes to a close: “Within the span of roughly one year, these Warholian pop influences and ideas culminated in one of the most elaborate rock and roll productions of all time: The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars.” (p. 115) And with this, Bowie quickly became the leader of the glitter trend.