Irish music is largely an oral/aural tradition, rather than a written one. Though there are countless transcriptions available (seemingly) everywhere, it seems that the most “authentic” way for someone to learn Irish music from a teacher wouldn’t be from sheet music. ;) One website listed some “tips” that I thought could be useful (some have been edited for length):
Tip 1: Use Your Ear, Not Your Eye Tip 2: Rhythm . . . is so complex and detailed in Irish music that even its most important, absolutely essential aspects cannot be notated using traditional classical notation. Instead it can only be learned and recognized after intensive and lovingly careful listening. For every tune, even if it's your five-hundredth tune. Tip 3: Rhythm . . . is the primary distinguishing characteristic between music that sounds Irish and music that does not sound Irish. Tip 4: Rhythm . . . is vastly more important than notes, pitches, and ornaments in Irish traditional music. Don't forget that reels, jigs, hornpipes, polkas, slides, mazurkas, etc. are dance music. Tip 5: Articulation Tip 6: Select Your Own "Genuine Players" to Study "Genuine players," as Breathnach calls them in the quotation at the top of this page, are those who are defining figures of the tradition. They have studied the past of the tradition with great respect and care, they participate in the current tradition to general praise from other traditional musicians, and they are helping to shape the future of the tradition. There is, of course, – and fortunately – much room for personal variation within the Irish tradition. Every player, as they learn how to play, gradually develops a taste for particular role models or styles. Besides your personal fancy for the styles of certain players, such decisions usually also revolve around your particular musical community (also known as "regional style" or "local style"): • Musicians with whom you are related. • Musicians with whom you play regularly, such as friends, neighbors, and bandmates. • Musicians who are (or were) the role models of the musicians with whom you play regularly. • Musicians with whom you have played on some occasion, such as while traveling, or otherwise irregularly. • Musicians who have strongly influenced how Irish traditional music is played on your particular instrument. • Musicians who have strongly influenced how Irish traditional music is played generally. Examples include historical figures such as Michael Coleman (fiddle) or John J. Kimmel (accordion).
Today I got a hold of someone at the American Kurdish International Network. He was so helpful and nice and put me in touch with a girl from the Iraq-part of Kurdistan after I played the song for him which seemed to be a different dialect than the one he was speaking (from Turkish-Kurdistan). I talked to the girl for quite a long time and she told me that traditional, folklore-songs are usually passed on from generation to generation. On the far walk to get water, women sing and therefore pass on the songs they learned from their parents to friends and other family members. She also told me that every song is based on a real story and by composing a song about that particular event and singing it, the story will not be forgotten. So the transmission of the songs is aural-based only.
Most Native Americans learn(ed) songs though oral/aural tradition. Some songs are learned informally if they are part of a dance or other activity that involves imitation. With new technology, it is common for Native Americans to use audio and video recorders for teaching and preserving traditional music and dance.
That is the basic truth. That is the overarching tendencies of Native Americans, but it is a huge generalization and I honestly have no idea yet how this song would have been learned, or how songs in general are taught specifically in Wampanoag culture. But I would really like to know, because I am having the strangest time remembering my song. It is relatively simple, both textually and melodically, but I am finding it disconcertingly elusive. I sang it for a long time yesterday. I was totally confident that I had it. And then last night I tried performing it for my girlfriend and found that it was gone. It just unravelled. I got up this morning and tried again - still gone. I went and listened to one cycle of it online and had it back again, no problem. Twenty minutes later I tried singing it again and it was gone.
5 hours later: having sung through it several times earlier today, I tried again to conjure the melody just now and it vanished on me again. I could write it out no problem. I know what it is. But I am finding it slippery.
I wonder how this song would have been taught traditionally in Wampanoag culture. The meaning of Wampanoag culture is significantly different today than it would have been 500 years ago. While there are Wampanoag associations throughout Southeastern Massachusetts, the culture has been assimilated into the rest of American life. This must affect the meaning of music, must affect the context in which it is performed, must affect the context in which it is taught and learned.
Wampanoag stories are still told as part of the oral tradition. But there is a lot of European-based culture mixed in. Here is an excerpt from an interview with a Wmpanoag elder, Helen Manning (80 years old from Aquinnah/Gay Head, Massachusetts):
When you were a child what Wampanoag customs did you follow then? Well, services at the church, plays with the children. I always wanted to be here, but I was never able to because I was based in Washington.
Were the plays based on stories? Yes, like “Alice in Wonderland.” And at Halloween time we would go into a tree we used to call big tree’ in the woods not far from the school, and it would be all decorated and the kids would have to go through this maze.
Yep, those sure are some pretty standard Wampanoag traditions. In trying to get a sense of Wampanoag social traditions, I read this fascinating description of land use, how land was traditionally parceled out, and how what could have been a positive evolution actually became a very negative loss of commonly-held and sacred lands:
In 1870, Aquinnah became incorporated as a town, changing from its designation as an Indian district. This government designation changed the way that land was legally parceled out. Before 1870, the sachem, or head of a group of Wampanoag, would give land out to tribal members based on what that particular tribal member could cultivate or use in that year. As needs changed from year to year, the land shifted hands within the tribe. Land that was used by all tribal members—common lands that could be used for pastures or for shared wild crops like cranberries—were accessible to all tribal members. When Aquinnah became a town, however, the state required that land be designated as owned by particular individuals. The government of the town, still in the hands of Wampanoag natives, went about parceling out the land between tribal members based on the tradition of giving individuals only the amount of land that they could use or cultivate at that time. What the tribe did not understand at the time, because the town and state’s system of land ownership was so different than the Indian practices, was that land given in that manner became the property of that individual forever. Once you owned land, that is, it was yours unless you chose to sell it—whether or not your needs changed. Common lands, in addition, were given to the town, rather than belonging to the tribe communally as before. While the original system of land management was fluid and responsive to changing needs, this system was not. While at first, the full impact of this change was not felt by tribal members, over time, as non-tribal members started moving into Aquinnah, it became more and more apparent just what the new system of land ownership meant. Important and sacred sites in the town to the tribe, such as the Aquinnah Cliffs, could now be owned by non-Indians who might even deny access to tribal members. Wampanoag tribal members who had need for more pasturing land or planting land, unlike before the town incorporation, could not get it without buying a new parcel. In 1987, the Tribe petitioned the U.S. government to become federally recognized as a tribe and the land that was left as common lands of the town at that time, 437 acres in total, was returned to the tribe collectively, not to individuals. This began a government-to-government relationship between the tribe and the U.S. government which continues to this day.
So though it started out in a way that seemingly would have preserved Wampanoag lands, because the leaders followed cultural practices, they ended up giving their most sacred lands to the town, which in turn could sell them to individuals from outside the tribe.
One more anecdote. There is a story in Wampanoag legend about Moshup, their cultural hero. In Helen Manning's words, it goes like this:
Our tribal logo shows Moshup, bigger than life, holding a whale while standing on the top of the cliffs near the entrance to his gigantic den. Moshup is our Culture Hero. He is responsible for the present shapes of Martha’s Vineyard, the Elizabeth Islands, Noman’s Land, and Nantucket. He is the one who killed the monster cannibal bird who infested our land and stole our children. He is Moshup, a benevolent, but capricious being of gigantic frame and supernatural power. His favorite daily food was a broiled whale and he usually ate a whole whale at a meal. He also threw many of them on the coast for support of the Wampanoag.
To catch the whales, he waded after them in the great sea. In those times, whales came close to shore for they had not learned to fear pursuit. Moshup could wade up and down the Vineyard Sound without finding the water more than knee deep.
From near the entrance to his den, Moshup could reach over the cliffs, pick up a whale, fling it against the cliffs to kill it, then swing it over to the fire which burned continually. The blood from these whales stained some of the banks of clay dark red. The coals of the largest trees which he plucked up by the roots and the bones of the whales plus shark’s teeth and petrified quahogs are still found in our cliffs to testify that the refuse from Moshup’s table was discarded close by his wetu at the opening of his den.
(Nathan again) I have been to Gay Head on Martha's Vineyard and I have seen the red clay cliffs and all the tourists tromping all over the place and it never occurred to me that there were Native American legends that belonged to that very place.
This process has made me really curious to actually know wampanoag music. Though this assignment is in the spirit of Lundquist's recommendation that we learn one piece of music well as a gateway to that culture, I feel like I am still missing some essential pieces. I am trying to make up for it by diving into the background of the people, by comparing the music to other native people's music, and though it is academically interesting to me, without the cultural insider view that I was hoping to gain from Darrell Wixon Dunn, I really don't feel equipped to teach this music. I feel more like I am doing exactly what Lundquist warned against. My overcompensation for my lack of specific knowledge is the precise pitfall that so many educators fall into. Different Native American cultures have different ways of evaluating and interacting with music. Some musical performance is meant to transcend the human experience. Some music and dance in some cultures is intended as a test of physical strength and mental stamina. Depending on the meaning of the music (song by song, or even culture by culture), success of the song (and even the notion of success is culturally malleable) could be measured by apparent communication with the spiritual realm or in the case of a more physical task it could be measured by a participant's dignity and self-discipline. I have no idea what role music plays in Wampanoag society. I have no idea as to the specifics of transmission. Though I am excited to share what I have learned tomorrow in a class of peers, I would not yet feel comfortable guiding my own students through Wampanoag music.
I totally agree. I wouldn't feel comfortable teaching my students Kurdish music at all. I would need to travel to Kurdistan first and hear the music, meet musicians, get the feel for it. Or listen to many many more recordings and watch videos. A live performance would probably help a lot. Although I spoke to three Kurdish people over the past week, I researched the culture and history, and I learned a song and transcribed it, it was just enough to tickle my interest to find out so much more about the culture, but not enough to really feel the music, yet. That might be due to the fact that I still could not find out what the song is about. However, it is similar to the South Indian music that we studied in class (although I feel like I know already much more about that than about Kurdish music), it opens up an entire new music genre and culture. Through the acquired knowledge I respect and admire the musicality of both cultures so much more. It definitely made me grow as a musician.
I think the best way pass on my song is to have the teacher and student sing together. In Senegal (and most of Western Africa ,) music was traditionally used as a way to pass on history and knowledge from generation to generation. The ‘griot’ class served the role of both historians and musicians in the community. No one else was allowed to become a musician. The tradition, history as well as music passed from through oral transmission. So I imagine the griot had to make the music engaging and songs exciting for the crowds to get a response. Also, since nothing was transcribed, there was a lot of room for the griot to improvise or embellish the story being told. I am sure this made the music spontaneous and rich. Similarly, after working hard to transcribe “ Senegal ’s Call” into the music sheet, I concluded that I would never have fully appreciated this song if I just looked at the music sheet. It was just easier to learn the song by directly listening. Maybe this was because it’s hard to transcribe non-Western music into Western notation, or maybe because the nature of the music I selected is such that direct transmission is the most “natural” way to teach and learn. It’s like riding a bicycle; you have to ride to learn. Many times I had to make corrections to my transcription, but only after singing while playing the song were the mistakes discovered. However, transcribing the song is a good exercise: it helped me to learn the song and organize my thoughts and knowledge about the song.
I feel like I learned so much about my song, “Call of Senegal,” as well as Senegalese music, in a very short period of time. With much more confidence and knowledge, I am thinking of a list of questions that I want to explore further about Senegalese music. Based on my brief introduction to the famous Youssou N'Dour, I wanted to know, what is going on with modern Senegalese music? How much of the traditional music or griot music has changed. What to the young people listen to? What about Youssou’s music and life story? What roles do social issues play in modern Senegal music.? These are some questions that I wish to learn more. In any case, I have found a new music category that I can enjoy, and understand enough that I can have conversation about it with a Senegalese person.
In this blog, I wanted to organize my thoughts and write a final reflection on the process of learning music, from beginning to the end, based on my experience with researching my song and Senegalese music. Some thoughts: 1. Listening many times led to an understanding of the song that you cannot get from just reading notations. This was very useful method, especially non-Western music for Western-trained ears; you can catch so many little details of the music you would not have been able to appreciate first time. 2. Notating/transcribing a song, especially from a music category you are not familiar with, is a great way to organize information about the song and analyze it. If repeated listening is a right-brained learning method, then notation is left-brained exercise. One complements the other. 3. The Kora instrument is the most beautiful non-Western instrument I have ever heard. I want to learn how to play it! I have a violin background, so I think I can certainly learn the basics. 4. Senegalese (West African) music is another great example that reminds us that there is a whole another world of diverse non-Western music in that is rich and developed. But they require our support to be maintained, since many of these are traditional/classic genres within their society, which is now being replaced by modern Western music. However, once you experience this other world, it would not be hard to give your support.
I tried to locate the composer of the song, but I could not find much. I found the following information on the singer of the song "Martha Schlamme". “Martha Schlamme was best-known for her interpretations of Jewish folk songs, although her repertory was far wider than that, and embraced music in a dozen languages. For this, her second LP, she returned to a difficult corner of her own past. As a Jewish refugee from Austria, she had avoided much to do with German culture since 1938, but by the early '50s she'd begun a furtive reassessment of the music, which culminated in this album, recorded in collaboration with Pete Seeger. The results are startling, owing to Schlamme's ability and the unique circumstances of the recording. As repertory that she obviously hadn't embraced in many years, she approaches it with a freshness that is spellbinding; at the same time, Seeger's spirited accompaniment on banjo (and recorder) gives this record a unique rhythmic vitality that one didn't necessarily find in scholarly folk song collections of the period -- at times, one just wants to whoop and holler in response to Seeger's accompaniment, and that's never bad in any collection of folk music worthy of the name. And the sound is also surprisingly good, even on the original vinyl copies.”
“Martha Schlamme never set out to have an international career as a singer -- the international part was forced on her by Adolph Hitler, and she brought the voice. Born Martha Haftel in 1922, she was the only daughter of Meier Haftel and the former Gisa Braten -- her parents were Orthodox Jews, and her father owned a kosher restaurant in Vienna, where Martha grew up. At age 15, she was forced to leave Vienna with the forced annexation of Austria by Hitler's Germany, escaping through France to England. Her parents initially occupied an awkward, almost impossible legal netherworld in England -- despite being refugees from Nazi persecution, as Austrian nationals they were legally enemy aliens, and were forced into an internment camp on the Isle of Man. Martha could have avoided this but instead took her place alongside them, and it was while in the internment camp that she met a fellow "enemy alien," Engel Lund, an Icelandic singer who took an interest in the girl's voice and sent her to teachers who could help her develop this talent. From there on out, her course was set. Once released from the camp, she was able to start singing, first in small venues and later on the BBC, and in various theaters in London. After the war, she studied the piano with Ferdinand Rauter and voice with Emmy Heim. In 1948, she married Hans Schlamme and the couple later emigrated to America”
Overall, the piece sounded very sad and not-free to me. Due to cultural and politicla issues in Germany, I feel that the singer were instrcted under high oppression. When I first heard the piece, it sounded very soft or muted. I believe this represent not only the mood of the piece, but also how the musicians were approached the piece back then.
Pedagically, I would love to teach this song to children, but with a more joyful setting. But then, my question remains: Am I culturally insentive by arranging and changing the style of the origial song for education?
Posts
Irish music is largely an oral/aural tradition, rather than a written one. Though there are countless transcriptions available (seemingly) everywhere, it seems that the most “authentic” way for someone to learn Irish music from a teacher wouldn’t be from sheet music. ;) One website listed some “tips” that I thought could be useful (some have been edited for length):
ReplyDeleteTip 1: Use Your Ear, Not Your Eye
Tip 2: Rhythm
. . . is so complex and detailed in Irish music that even its most important, absolutely essential aspects cannot be notated using traditional classical notation. Instead it can only be learned and recognized after intensive and lovingly careful listening. For every tune, even if it's your five-hundredth tune.
Tip 3: Rhythm
. . . is the primary distinguishing characteristic between music that sounds Irish and music that does not sound Irish.
Tip 4: Rhythm
. . . is vastly more important than notes, pitches, and ornaments in Irish traditional music. Don't forget that reels, jigs, hornpipes, polkas, slides, mazurkas, etc. are dance music.
Tip 5: Articulation
Tip 6: Select Your Own "Genuine Players" to Study
"Genuine players," as Breathnach calls them in the quotation at the top of this page, are those who are defining figures of the tradition. They have studied the past of the tradition with great respect and care, they participate in the current tradition to general praise from other traditional musicians, and they are helping to shape the future of the tradition.
There is, of course, – and fortunately – much room for personal variation within the Irish tradition. Every player, as they learn how to play, gradually develops a taste for particular role models or styles. Besides your personal fancy for the styles of certain players, such decisions usually also revolve around your particular musical community (also known as "regional style" or "local style"):
• Musicians with whom you are related.
• Musicians with whom you play regularly, such as friends, neighbors, and bandmates.
• Musicians who are (or were) the role models of the musicians with whom you play regularly.
• Musicians with whom you have played on some occasion, such as while traveling, or otherwise irregularly.
• Musicians who have strongly influenced how Irish traditional music is played on your particular instrument.
• Musicians who have strongly influenced how Irish traditional music is played generally. Examples include historical figures such as Michael Coleman (fiddle) or John J. Kimmel (accordion).
Today I got a hold of someone at the American Kurdish International Network. He was so helpful and nice and put me in touch with a girl from the Iraq-part of Kurdistan after I played the song for him which seemed to be a different dialect than the one he was speaking (from Turkish-Kurdistan). I talked to the girl for quite a long time and she told me that traditional, folklore-songs are usually passed on from generation to generation. On the far walk to get water, women sing and therefore pass on the songs they learned from their parents to friends and other family members. She also told me that every song is based on a real story and by composing a song about that particular event and singing it, the story will not be forgotten.
ReplyDeleteSo the transmission of the songs is aural-based only.
Most Native Americans learn(ed) songs though oral/aural tradition. Some songs are learned informally if they are part of a dance or other activity that involves imitation. With new technology, it is common for Native Americans to use audio and video recorders for teaching and preserving traditional music and dance.
ReplyDeleteThat is the basic truth. That is the overarching tendencies of Native Americans, but it is a huge generalization and I honestly have no idea yet how this song would have been learned, or how songs in general are taught specifically in Wampanoag culture. But I would really like to know, because I am having the strangest time remembering my song. It is relatively simple, both textually and melodically, but I am finding it disconcertingly elusive. I sang it for a long time yesterday. I was totally confident that I had it. And then last night I tried performing it for my girlfriend and found that it was gone. It just unravelled. I got up this morning and tried again - still gone. I went and listened to one cycle of it online and had it back again, no problem. Twenty minutes later I tried singing it again and it was gone.
5 hours later: having sung through it several times earlier today, I tried again to conjure the melody just now and it vanished on me again. I could write it out no problem. I know what it is. But I am finding it slippery.
I wonder how this song would have been taught traditionally in Wampanoag culture. The meaning of Wampanoag culture is significantly different today than it would have been 500 years ago. While there are Wampanoag associations throughout Southeastern Massachusetts, the culture has been assimilated into the rest of American life. This must affect the meaning of music, must affect the context in which it is performed, must affect the context in which it is taught and learned.
Wampanoag stories are still told as part of the oral tradition. But there is a lot of European-based culture mixed in. Here is an excerpt from an interview with a Wmpanoag elder, Helen Manning (80 years old from Aquinnah/Gay Head, Massachusetts):
ReplyDeleteWhen you were a child what Wampanoag customs did you follow then?
Well, services at the church, plays with the children. I always wanted to be here, but I was never able to because I was based in Washington.
Were the plays based on stories?
Yes, like “Alice in Wonderland.” And at Halloween time we would go into a tree we used to call big tree’ in the woods not far from the school, and it would be all decorated and the kids would have to go through this maze.
Yep, those sure are some pretty standard Wampanoag traditions. In trying to get a sense of Wampanoag social traditions, I read this fascinating description of land use, how land was traditionally parceled out, and how what could have been a positive evolution actually became a very negative loss of commonly-held and sacred lands:
In 1870, Aquinnah became incorporated as a town, changing from its designation as an Indian district. This government designation changed the way that land was legally parceled out. Before 1870, the sachem, or head of a group of Wampanoag, would give land out to tribal members based on what that particular tribal member could cultivate or use in that year. As needs changed from year to year, the land shifted hands within the tribe. Land that was used by all tribal members—common lands that could be used for pastures or for shared wild crops like cranberries—were accessible to all tribal members. When Aquinnah became a town, however, the state required that land be designated as owned by particular individuals. The government of the town, still in the hands of Wampanoag natives, went about parceling out the land between tribal members based on the tradition of giving individuals only the amount of land that they could use or cultivate at that time. What the tribe did not understand at the time, because the town and state’s system of land ownership was so different than the Indian practices, was that land given in that manner became the property of that individual forever. Once you owned land, that is, it was yours unless you chose to sell it—whether or not your needs changed. Common lands, in addition, were given to the town, rather than belonging to the tribe communally as before. While the original system of land management was fluid and responsive to changing needs, this system was not. While at first, the full impact of this change was not felt by tribal members, over time, as non-tribal members started moving into Aquinnah, it became more and more apparent just what the new system of land ownership meant. Important and sacred sites in the town to the tribe, such as the Aquinnah Cliffs, could now be owned by non-Indians who might even deny access to tribal members. Wampanoag tribal members who had need for more pasturing land or planting land, unlike before the town incorporation, could not get it without buying a new parcel. In 1987, the Tribe petitioned the U.S. government to become federally recognized as a tribe and the land that was left as common lands of the town at that time, 437 acres in total, was returned to the tribe collectively, not to individuals. This began a government-to-government relationship between the tribe and the U.S. government which continues to this day.
So though it started out in a way that seemingly would have preserved Wampanoag lands, because the leaders followed cultural practices, they ended up giving their most sacred lands to the town, which in turn could sell them to individuals from outside the tribe.
One more anecdote. There is a story in Wampanoag legend about Moshup, their cultural hero. In Helen Manning's words, it goes like this:
ReplyDeleteOur tribal logo shows Moshup, bigger than life, holding a whale while standing on the top of the cliffs near the entrance to his gigantic den. Moshup is our Culture Hero. He is responsible for the present shapes of Martha’s Vineyard, the Elizabeth Islands, Noman’s Land, and Nantucket. He is the one who killed the monster cannibal bird who infested our land and stole our children. He is Moshup, a benevolent, but capricious being of gigantic frame and supernatural power. His favorite daily food was a broiled whale and he usually ate a whole whale at a meal. He also threw many of them on the coast for support of the Wampanoag.
To catch the whales, he waded after them in the great sea. In those times, whales came close to shore for they had not learned to fear pursuit. Moshup could wade up and down the Vineyard Sound without finding the water more than knee deep.
From near the entrance to his den, Moshup could reach over the cliffs, pick up a whale, fling it against the cliffs to kill it, then swing it over to the fire which burned continually. The blood from these whales stained some of the banks of clay dark red. The coals of the largest trees which he plucked up by the roots and the bones of the whales plus shark’s teeth and petrified quahogs are still found in our cliffs to testify that the refuse from Moshup’s table was discarded close by his wetu at the opening of his den.
(Nathan again) I have been to Gay Head on Martha's Vineyard and I have seen the red clay cliffs and all the tourists tromping all over the place and it never occurred to me that there were Native American legends that belonged to that very place.
This process has made me really curious to actually know wampanoag music. Though this assignment is in the spirit of Lundquist's recommendation that we learn one piece of music well as a gateway to that culture, I feel like I am still missing some essential pieces. I am trying to make up for it by diving into the background of the people, by comparing the music to other native people's music, and though it is academically interesting to me, without the cultural insider view that I was hoping to gain from Darrell Wixon Dunn, I really don't feel equipped to teach this music. I feel more like I am doing exactly what Lundquist warned against. My overcompensation for my lack of specific knowledge is the precise pitfall that so many educators fall into. Different Native American cultures have different ways of evaluating and interacting with music. Some musical performance is meant to transcend the human experience. Some music and dance in some cultures is intended as a test of physical strength and mental stamina. Depending on the meaning of the music (song by song, or even culture by culture), success of the song (and even the notion of success is culturally malleable) could be measured by apparent communication with the spiritual realm or in the case of a more physical task it could be measured by a participant's dignity and self-discipline. I have no idea what role music plays in Wampanoag society. I have no idea as to the specifics of transmission. Though I am excited to share what I have learned tomorrow in a class of peers, I would not yet feel comfortable guiding my own students through Wampanoag music.
I totally agree. I wouldn't feel comfortable teaching my students Kurdish music at all. I would need to travel to Kurdistan first and hear the music, meet musicians, get the feel for it. Or listen to many many more recordings and watch videos. A live performance would probably help a lot.
ReplyDeleteAlthough I spoke to three Kurdish people over the past week, I researched the culture and history, and I learned a song and transcribed it, it was just enough to tickle my interest to find out so much more about the culture, but not enough to really feel the music, yet. That might be due to the fact that I still could not find out what the song is about.
However, it is similar to the South Indian music that we studied in class (although I feel like I know already much more about that than about Kurdish music), it opens up an entire new music genre and culture. Through the acquired knowledge I respect and admire the musicality of both cultures so much more.
It definitely made me grow as a musician.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteI think the best way pass on my song is to have the teacher and student sing together. In Senegal (and most of Western Africa ,) music was traditionally used as a way to pass on history and knowledge from generation to generation. The ‘griot’ class served the role of both historians and musicians in the community. No one else was allowed to become a musician. The tradition, history as well as music passed from through oral transmission. So I imagine the griot had to make the music engaging and songs exciting for the crowds to get a response. Also, since nothing was transcribed, there was a lot of room for the griot to improvise or embellish the story being told. I am sure this made the music spontaneous and rich. Similarly, after working hard to transcribe “ Senegal ’s Call” into the music sheet, I concluded that I would never have fully appreciated this song if I just looked at the music sheet. It was just easier to learn the song by directly listening. Maybe this was because it’s hard to transcribe non-Western music into Western notation, or maybe because the nature of the music I selected is such that direct transmission is the most “natural” way to teach and learn. It’s like riding a bicycle; you have to ride to learn. Many times I had to make corrections to my transcription, but only after singing while playing the song were the mistakes discovered. However, transcribing the song is a good exercise: it helped me to learn the song and organize my thoughts and knowledge about the song.
ReplyDeleteI feel like I learned so much about my song, “Call of Senegal,” as well as Senegalese music, in a very short period of time. With much more confidence and knowledge, I am thinking of a list of questions that I want to explore further about Senegalese music. Based on my brief introduction to the famous Youssou N'Dour, I wanted to know, what is going on with modern Senegalese music? How much of the traditional music or griot music has changed. What to the young people listen to? What about Youssou’s music and life story? What roles do social issues play in modern Senegal music.? These are some questions that I wish to learn more. In any case, I have found a new music category that I can enjoy, and understand enough that I can have conversation about it with a Senegalese person.
ReplyDeleteIn this blog, I wanted to organize my thoughts and write a final reflection on the process of learning music, from beginning to the end, based on my experience with researching my song and Senegalese music. Some thoughts:
ReplyDelete1. Listening many times led to an understanding of the song that you cannot get from just reading notations. This was very useful method, especially non-Western music for Western-trained ears; you can catch so many little details of the music you would not have been able to appreciate first time.
2. Notating/transcribing a song, especially from a music category you are not familiar with, is a great way to organize information about the song and analyze it. If repeated listening is a right-brained learning method, then notation is left-brained exercise. One complements the other.
3. The Kora instrument is the most beautiful non-Western instrument I have ever heard. I want to learn how to play it! I have a violin background, so I think I can certainly learn the basics.
4. Senegalese (West African) music is another great example that reminds us that there is a whole another world of diverse non-Western music in that is rich and developed. But they require our support to be maintained, since many of these are traditional/classic genres within their society, which is now being replaced by modern Western music. However, once you experience this other world, it would not be hard to give your support.
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ReplyDeleteI tried to locate the composer of the song, but I could not find much. I found the following information on the singer of the song "Martha Schlamme".
ReplyDelete“Martha Schlamme was best-known for her interpretations of Jewish folk songs, although her repertory was far wider than that, and embraced music in a dozen languages. For this, her second LP, she returned to a difficult corner of her own past. As a Jewish refugee from Austria, she had avoided much to do with German culture since 1938, but by the early '50s she'd begun a furtive reassessment of the music, which culminated in this album, recorded in collaboration with Pete Seeger. The results are startling, owing to Schlamme's ability and the unique circumstances of the recording. As repertory that she obviously hadn't embraced in many years, she approaches it with a freshness that is spellbinding; at the same time, Seeger's spirited accompaniment on banjo (and recorder) gives this record a unique rhythmic vitality that one didn't necessarily find in scholarly folk song collections of the period -- at times, one just wants to whoop and holler in response to Seeger's accompaniment, and that's never bad in any collection of folk music worthy of the name. And the sound is also surprisingly good, even on the original vinyl copies.”
“Martha Schlamme never set out to have an international career as a singer -- the international part was forced on her by Adolph Hitler, and she brought the voice. Born Martha Haftel in 1922, she was the only daughter of Meier Haftel and the former Gisa Braten -- her parents were Orthodox Jews, and her father owned a kosher restaurant in Vienna, where Martha grew up. At age 15, she was forced to leave Vienna with the forced annexation of Austria by Hitler's Germany, escaping through France to England. Her parents initially occupied an awkward, almost impossible legal netherworld in England -- despite being refugees from Nazi persecution, as Austrian nationals they were legally enemy aliens, and were forced into an internment camp on the Isle of Man. Martha could have avoided this but instead took her place alongside them, and it was while in the internment camp that she met a fellow "enemy alien," Engel Lund, an Icelandic singer who took an interest in the girl's voice and sent her to teachers who could help her develop this talent. From there on out, her course was set. Once released from the camp, she was able to start singing, first in small venues and later on the BBC, and in various theaters in London. After the war, she studied the piano with Ferdinand Rauter and voice with Emmy Heim. In 1948, she married Hans Schlamme and the couple later emigrated to America”
Sources: http://www.answers.com/topic/martha-schlamme
Overall, the piece sounded very sad and not-free to me. Due to cultural and politicla issues in Germany, I feel that the singer were instrcted under high oppression. When I first heard the piece, it sounded very soft or muted. I believe this represent not only the mood of the piece, but also how the musicians were approached the piece back then.
ReplyDeletePedagically, I would love to teach this song to children, but with a more joyful setting. But then, my question remains: Am I culturally insentive by arranging and changing the style of the origial song for education?