Thursday, October 26, 2017

WEEK 9: Songster 2 2017



I really enjoyed listening to 'Fishin' Blues', both the version by Taj Mahal and Henry Thomas. It recalls a simple pleasure of catching and cooking your own food. The quaintness of the music is endearing and makes me happy. 'Sitting on Top of the World' is also a pleasant song, but its lyrics are quite a bit darker and deal with losing an important loved one. Both 'Fishin' Blues' and 'Sitting on Top of the World' have an optimism to them though that makes them pleasant to listen to.

Mississippi John Hurt's Candy Man is a deceptively naughty song. Upon first impression John Hurt's warm and soft voice betrays the scandalous nature of the lyrics. It almost reads as a child overhearing what the women in the town are saying about this "Candy Man'. There's an innocence in the way he sings that gives an otherwise dirty song a humorous slant. Reverend Gary Davis's version has a similar feel, but is more visceral and desperate in his delivery. He is not a child, but a man. This makes the song not as comforting as John Hurt's version. I googled the term "Candy man" to see if it meant anything beyond song lyrics and wikipedia states that it is, "used to refer to a candy street vendor or slang for a drug dealer". I'm not sure whether to trust this information because they do not provide a source, but if it is true then Gary Davis's delivery in his version has an important dark undertone to it.

The chord progression of all these songs has an uplifting feeling to it that can distract from their lyrical content. 'Cocaine Habit Blues' once again takes a whimsical instrumental and combines it with a more serious, almost disturbing song topic of being addicted to drugs.

Blues music is interesting for its contrast between instrumental and lyrics. I'd never listened too intently to it before but it goes against my original expectations. I expected the Blues to sound sad, but somehow the realization that a lot of Blues music sounds happy has thrown me for a loop. Once again I think about how the people who originated these songs must have used them as mood lifters or coping mechanisms. The power of music to distract you from your problems and change your perspective is valuable. In my piece I decided to depict a woman in the middle of dancing joyfully. The bruises on her legs and dirtiness of her feet are in juxtaposition with the carefree nature of her actions. I find this same juxtaposition to be present in the Blues and am interested in exploring it.

Thursday, October 19, 2017

WEEK 8: MISSISSIPPI JOHN HURT

Art by Winfred Rembert

Mississippi John Hurt is an inspiration and testament to the power of culture in connecting and healing people and the role that music has in keeping culture present and relevant. It's apparent in his name (Mississippi John Hurt) that the place he was born and raised played a tremendous part in his music. His tumultuous history with music and the fact that he was self-taught makes his story even more heartfelt. Making music was a way for people in rural areas to express themselves, pass the time, grieve, and celebrate. Music was an integral part of John Hurt's everyday life and a very personal thing for people of the time. I've been talking with my friends recently about the personal role of music in our lives. I remember being 11 years old and recording covers of songs with my brother. I think about the times I've gone karaoke singing with my friends and how the communal energy felt. Songs have an inherent history that can connect you with other people almost instantaneously. It saddens me that in many places, music (and art in general) has become something to be commodified and gate-kept, only afforded to those who conform to the society's standards of what is "good" (technically proficient, academically trained, etc.). The fact that the art realm has become so classist is a topic of conversation that gets my blood boiling every time. Not only that, the appropriation and imitation of "poor culture" is something that also happens frequently in the art world. People who have the privilege to artificially construct struggle for themselves in order to generate art are taking attention away from those who are also making art  from that struggle but actively living and working close to the poverty line. This is why I find Mississippi John Hurt's story so compelling, because he was an example of a genuine artist creating art through his experiences. Many times the world never gets to hear artists like him, and I'm sure there are still many people as talented as he was waiting to be discovered.

(side note, John Hurt's story reminds me a lot of Winfred Rembert)



Thursday, October 12, 2017

Week 7: APPALACHIA II: THE BRITISH BALLADS


All the ballads have a tinge of melancholy to them, especially the American ballads. You can hear the European influence very clearly in the American ballads. I noticed a connection among some of the songs (such as Omie Wise, The House Carpenter, Barbry Allen, and the Lowlands of Holland) in that they all share a theme of separation, heartbreak, and death. Omie Wise was murdered by John Lewis, both Willie and Barbry died, the husband and wife of The Lowlands of Holland are separated by war (he is implied to have died), and a woman is lured away from her husband by the Devil and murdered in 'The House Carpenter'. You can hear one or more of these themes in almost all the songs mentioned this week. Perhaps the the lasting power of some of these songs is due to their melancholy nature. I speculate that many of the people who sang these ballads could relate to the feelings of physical and mental isolation.

I felt those feelings as I was listening to Barbry Allen, which I based this week's piece off of. I related to this quote from the Mike Yates article of Olive Campbell hearing 'Barbara Allen', "I saw again the long road over which we had come, the dark hills, the rocky streams bordered by tall hemlocks and hollies, the lonely cabins distinguishable at night only by the firelight flaring from their chimneys.  Then these, too, faded, and I seemed to be borne along into a still more dim and distant past, of which I myself was a part". At the time I was listening, I was dealing with some demons of my own and the emptiness of the rendition by Jean Ritchie resonated in me. I tried to channel those feelings of loneliness, jealousy, and guilt from the lyrics and my heart onto my piece. The warped perspective and deconstruction of the lines/shape/form reflects my mental state and the spiral of self-loathing that resulted from all these negative feelings.

Thursday, October 5, 2017

Week 6: APPALACHIA

At first glance, 'Banks of the Ohio' is a hard song to get into. The lyrics illustrate a scenario so disgusting and reprehensible that there seems to be a cognitive dissonance between the lyrics and the melody. The casualness in the way Ashley and Watson sing it is jarring. The version sung by Ollie Gilbert feels more in line with the actual content of the lyrics. Her version is stark and bare, with careful attention given to each phrase so that the listener can hear it very clearly. I appreciate the ability of the song to tell a complete story in such a short amount of time.

The version of 'Will the Circle Be Unbroken' by Watson and Ashley is almost solemn and retrospective. It feels calming and emotional compared to the stiffness of the Carter Family version. The tempo difference adds to the difference in feelings of the two versions of the song. The Carter version is almost robotic and commercial. It's very much performance while the Watson and Ashley version comes closer to front porch. However once again, neither come close to the rawness of Ollie Gilbert's version. Ollie's voice and cadence reminds me of a grandmother singing to their grandchildren. The lyrics of the song are very sad and, like 'Banks of the Ohio', are at first betrayed by their instrumentals.

When I did research into Appalachia, I found images of poor, rural scenes that reminded me of where my mother came from in rural China near Shanghai. The cold and hazy landscape that is beautiful to the eye is also very harsh and unwelcoming to live in. People that have grown up or lived long lives in these areas seem to have a hardness about them, a toughness that can only come from overcoming hardship. I think music is one of the few ways that people can process and cope with the tragedies and traumas around them. Both 'Banks of the Ohio' and 'Will the Circle Be Unbroken deal with tragedy in their lyrics, whether it be the death of a mother or the senseless murder of a woman. Being able to resolve these events in song means being able to accept life and carry onward. For my piece this week, I thought a lot about the lyrics to 'Will the Circle Be Unbroken' and how it applies to my life. The line "There's a better home a-waiting In the sky" made me think about my unresolved relationship with spirituality and the afterlife. Like many people, I want to believe in something better after death, but my skepticism continuously reminds me that I have nothing to base that hope off of. Hearing songs of grief like this one make me wish I could have more faith in the unknown. For a moment when I listen and sing along, I can feel some of my unresolved grief be assuaged. Sadly, for me songs can only be a temporary escape and not a therapy.

I wish to keep the content of my piece a secret until we meet. After reading what I have wrote above I am curious what people's first impressions and assumptions of my piece will be. 

Update:
My piece is a reflection of my family, with the chrysanthemums representing my grandmother, the roses my mom, the sunflower being me, and the dragon and snake representing my brother and grandfather, respectively. It is a piece representing the transition and flow of life, circling and eventually coming back together.

Thursday, September 28, 2017

Week 5: Mary Don't You Weep


As I discussed in last week's blog post, many of these spiritual songs were a kind of therapy for slaves and most, if not all, implore their listener to keep their dignity and hope. These songs were developed as a way of coping. At its core, 'Mary Don't You Weep' is a song about how faith in in Jesus and in God would be rewarded with salvation. In the Book of John, Mary's weeping over the death of her brother Lazarus moved Jesus to the point of weeping as well. Jesus then brought her to Lazarus's grave and raised him from the dead. The song implores Mary (the listener) not to weep for Jesus will bring salvation to all those who believed in him. The song also implores Martha/Marthie not to moan or complain and to have faith in Jesus. I believe that Mary and Martha represented fellow slaves and even the singers themselves and that the song provided comfort to them that there would be a future and a better life after death despite (or maybe due to) all their suffering. Again, the reference to the Pharaoh's army drowning was an example of God helping protect the slaves from the Egyptians. Faith in God would mean protection from evil. Christianity was first adopted by the slaves mainly because it brought them in closer proximity to whiteness. It was one of the few thing that slaves were allowed to have in common with their masters. "Christianity was attractive simply because it was something the white man did that the black man could do also" (Blues People 33). The adoption of Christianity was the first movement of the black slave away from their African roots. However as time passed and more slaves were being converted to Christianity by the Methodists and Baptists, many slaves embraced Christianity's dogma. "One of the very reasons Christianity proved so popular was that it was the religion...of an oppressed people" (Blues People 39). One of the few times a slave could fully express themselves emotionally was during prayer. This latent emotion may be the reason spiritual music is so powerful. Sadly, Christianity was also a way for slave owners to make their slaves more docile and appeased. If a slave could think of their pain as a prerequisite for salvation then it would make them stronger to suffering. The reward for such dedication was always presented as being given after death. 

The composition of the song and the lyrics affect me less emotionally than the selections from last week (perhaps due to my distance from scripture), but the history behind it leaves me in awe. My favorite version is the one sung by Inez Andrews and the Andrewettes. The expression of pain mixed with pride and dignity on her face as she sings is so powerful. I love how the Andrewettes sway to the music while Inez stands steadfast and strong, like a pillar. I tried to represent her expression and all the emotions with it in my piece this week. 

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Week 4: Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen


What astonishes me is the presence of a glimmer of hope in all these songs. Despite their deep sadness and mourning tone, the songs never veer into despair. These songs are an emotional and historical recording from African-Americans that tell their resilience and the suffering they had to endure as slaves torn from their home. One line from the reading this week caught my eye as I listened to 'Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child' by Robeson, “These [slave] children also had to learn about slavery, but there were no centuries of culture to unlearn, or old long-held habits to suppress. The only way of life these children knew was the accursed thing they had been born into”(128). That line affected me the most and made me think about what it was like to be born into a culture you were immediately rejected from. If there is a sorrow that comes with not knowing your future or purpose then there must be an even deeper sorrow that comes with being denied your origin. First generation African-Americans were not allowed to connect with their ancestry yet also not allowed to partake in the culture of their masters. It was incredibly interesting and saddening reading about the forced erosion of African culture in black Americans. Their use of music as a way to stay connected to their heritage and to their fellow people explains the undertones found in a lot of the spirituals. While the songs are beautiful, they come from a place of confusion and desperation. Both music and religion were used by American born African slaves as a method of coping and keeping a sense of their humanity and history in the face of slave masters who considered them animals and property. 


Both Paul Robeson and Marian Anderson have voices that reach into my chest and squeeze my heart. The recording quality of these songs also adds a nostalgic tone to them. I decided to do my piece this week inspired by ‘Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen’ because I feel it summarizes everything I've discussed so far. I tried my best to represent the dignity and hope slaves kept in the face of pain and oppression. Without being too hamfisted, I also wanted to show a piece of the reality behind the origins of these songs. 

Thursday, September 14, 2017

Week 3: You are my Sunshine



"You are my Sunshine" was one of the few songs on the syllabus that I had actually recognized and heard prior to starting this class. I had only been exposed to the chorus though, and had no idea of the other lyrics framing the song. When I first heard the chorus, it was sung by a woman in a somber and slow pace and it had very little instrumentation. A vision came to mind of a mother scared of losing her child due to war or sickness. However, after listening to the lyrics of the full version it was very hard for me to continue applying my old vision.

Jimmie Davis was born in north Louisiana to a pair of incredibly poor sharecroppers. He eventually grew up to become a successful country/gospel musician and 2 term governor of Louisiana. He recorded "You are my Sunshine" in 1939 and it became a national sensation. Despite the fact that he is most associated with the song, he has never actually claimed to have written it. Sources say that 2 versions of "You are my Sunshine" existed before Jimmie Davis, however Davis's incredibly successful career has eclipsed those renditions entirely. Davis was considered a singer of country music as well as gospel music. I find this very interesting due to the fact that "You are my Sunshine" has obvious gospel roots in its intonation and phrasing. Davis seems to have bridged a kind of gap between audiences of country music and gospel music. Perhaps his position as a charismatic white man made his delivery of gospel music easier to digest. I believe he incorporated music into his campaign as a way of relating and connecting with people of different backgrounds.

Ollie Gilbert's version of the song is much more raw and less commercially friendly that the Davis version. I personally prefer versions of the song that are more stripped down and less happy sounding. There's a mismatch in my head when listening to cheerful instrumentation of the song coupled with the depressing lyrics. I personally believe a somber or subdued version of the song makes it much more impactful. With regard to my project, I tried to envision outside the box of what the song lyrics immediately bring to mind. At first listen to the lyrics, it's obvious that the song is about a romantic relationship where one partner fears the other partner leaving and gradually deals with the reality that their fears came true. However, when I tried thinking about the kind of devotion and unconditional love that would fear the betrayal of a partner, I thought of the love a pet has for its master instead. I thought of all the dogs that are adopted and abandoned each year because they grew up and were either no longer cute or too much of a hassle to properly take care of. The image touched me, so I decided to depict a scene of abandonment and betrayal using a screenshot of an anti-animal abuse ad that I thought fit the song very well.