Modernism and the Cold War

I think that in a few years time, it will become impossible to talk about modern music without acknowledging its connections with the Cold War. Recent books such as Who Paid the Piper? and Rationalizing Culture show that there is considerable interest in this subject, and is likely to enter mainstream consciousness once the trend begins to grow. If I ever decide to do a research topic in-depth, it will probably be related to this issue in some way or another -- it's a topic that I think has a lot of potential to expand upon, especially in music.

When I tell artists that the CIA funded modern and abstract art as a way to counteract Soviet propaganda, I usually get funny looks or looks of disbelief. (The reaction I get from talking to political scientists, on the other hand, tend to be "well, of course.") It sounds like something a conspiracy-theory nut would say, and it can be a little hard to stomach the fact that a lot of the artists of the 20th century, many of whom we were taught were revolutionaries and mavericks, would be so easily appropriated towards political means. Still, in a lot of ways the connections are very obvious -- American modern art thrived primarily through government and patronage funding, while the most over-arching political event during that period was in fact the Cold War. With the collapse of the Soviet Union and the Freedom of Information Act being enacted, there's a lot more information about the matter coming out -- it's likely that the way we perceive modern music will change very quickly in the near future. It's probably for the better, at least in the long run.

Speaking very broadly, the New York "Uptown" school of composition, mainly characterized by a very academic and mathematical style, was a product of the "scientific" educational programs geared toward the Space Race; while the "Downtown" school, most strongly represented by the New York School composers and the experimental music tradition, were supported because of their ideological leanings toward individualism and freedom of expression. The ideologies which were spurned during the 50s and 60s high-modernism is often referred to as the "Anti-Communist Left" or some variation on that idea, and can be clearly heard through the music and its aesthetic arguments of its time. Anti-collectivism was the mantra of its day, in opposition to the Soviet Union's propaganda of censorship and brutality in the name of the proletariat working class.

(Here you can see the CIA totally admitting to it, saying that it was one of the most "daring and effective" programs during the Cold War. There is virtually no controversy on whether or not this had actually happened -- it has been well-documented since the late-60s when the program was exposed in the mainstream press. What's missing are the particulars and details about the whos, hows, and whats, but those things will probably come to light over time.)

The irony of the situation was that in order for the artists to see themselves as mavericks, they had to be purposely kept in the dark about where their means of living were coming from, as government funding would imply a form of social collectivism that transcended the will of the individual. As a result, the CIA, through a program called Congress for Cultural Freedom had decided to fund artists through the guise of anonymous private donations rather than handing them a check directly. In doing so, the government created an atmosphere of contradiction and secrecy within the modern art world that resembled the practices of a nationalized intelligence agency.

This doesn't make the art of that period any less important, although the way we perceived and appreciated it may not have exactly been what we initially thought. George W. Bush's foreign policies were largely based on Cold War tactics (former secretary of state Condi Rice being an expert in Soviet politics, for one) and his departure signifies an end of a type of political approach that was based largely on obscuration and psychological control. It'll be interesting to see how art becomes appropriated during the next decade or so -- especially with the new presidential administration, there will definitely be shifts in government arts spending as time goes on.

Clapping in Between Movements

Alex Ross has an interesting post written about this subject here. There's kind of a funny quote:

It’s not surprising that conductors were intent on stamping out spontaneous clapping. To refrain from applause heightens focus on the personality of the conductor. Silence is the measure of the unbreakable spell that Maestro is supposedly casting on us. A big ovation at the end salutes his mastery of the architecture of the work, or whatever. ("Or whatever" is in his own words, not mine.)

It seems like the "no applause during concerts" thing is a modern invention, established by orchestral conductors which eventually spread into mainstream practice. This allowed for composers to experiment with "quieter" gestures that would otherwise get drowned out due to the audience's background noise. It'd be hard to imagine something like Cage's 4'33" being possible without this type of tradition to keep the audience in-line.

Meanwhile, jazz and other types of popular musics took advantage of amplification in order to cut through the audience's chatter. The technology was especially good for vocalists and singers, because they were able to amplify subtle nuances in their voice without having to rely on the bel canto style in order to project. Miles Davis was able to bring out the "quieter" side of the trumpet without necessarily losing any volume.

Should the audience be quieter or should the musicians get louder (or visa versa)? Much like you would find at a bar or cafe nowadays there's plenty of accounts that classical music in the past were often talked over, with audiences giving applause whenever they heard something they liked. Are classical musicians really willing to give up this tradition of demanding the audience of their focused attention? I think some people get in a hizzy about "inappropriate" clapping because in it they can see their medium descending into the anarchy of the popular musics, or whatever.

The one nice thing about CalArts was that there was a lot less of this type of thing going on. Sure, the "rules" are still there to some extent, but when you have people drinking beers during composer's concerts, you can tell that the atmosphere is a lot more relaxed. If you're at a concert, why not enjoy yourself?

Blogging, etc.

Now that I know I'm not going to go to UCSD this fall, I figured that it would be a good time to kick-start some of the projects that's been in the back burner for a while. I can't say that I'm not disappointed by the result, but on the bright side it may also be an opportunity to do the things that I want outside of the schooling system. There's a lot of work in the area of scholarship (mostly interdisciplinary) that I've been wanting to do and it might be beneficial to get it all down in writing before I go back to school. I'm pretty confident that I will get into a doctorate program eventually and I'm lucky enough to have managed to stay artistically active where I live. So at least for now, I'm doing fine.

I've been doing a lot of scholarly work nowadays, despite the fact that I've been out of school for some time now. (I kind of took it as a sign that I should probably try to be a professor some day, hence, grad apps.) Although as of the late I've become skeptical about the future of scholarly journals -- at least in the humanities, scholarly journals are very quickly losing their former prestige as the internet gradually becomes more reliable as a primary source of information. This blog may become an outlet for lots of the ideas that's swimming in my head that would otherwise never get published.

Lately I've been pretty interested in musicology and anthropology, and have come to appreciate it a lot more than I did in the past. Musicology plays an especially important role in music as it attempts to contextualize its artistic practices within history, tying it to the social, economic, political, and ideological practices of its day. There is especially a particular need for contemporary classical music to be analyzed in this way, due to the fact that over-specialization has allowed many establishments to escape this type of oversight and perspective for years on end. As of the late there has been a very strong reliance on the idea of "individual subjectivity" and "open interpretation" as a way to legitimize certain works done in certain styles, although in many cases these arguments act as smoke-screens order to preserve existing institutional structures.

Especially in the "New Music" community where there is a strong desire to create something new and groundbreaking, musicians rarely appreciate musicologists' efforts to contextualize their work within a historical context. In tying the arts with the socio-economic and political trends of its time, the medium starts to lose its romantic luster -- the susceptibility of the arts to politics tend to run contrary to the genius or individualist narrative that places the artist at the very top of the social pyramid, and many artists find this prospect somewhat unnerving. The stark divisions between composition, performance, musicology and ethnomusicology programs that exist in most universities today serve as a reminder as to how divided the musical landscape has currently become, and that there is a considerable amount of animosity between the fields especially as they fight for allocations within their institution's budget. Nonetheless, musicology is a necessary field if only to keep composers and performers grounded within the world that they exist in. These trends are very real things that affect us not only as artists, but as citizens of society as well. Without a serious inquiry into how the mechanics of these things work, it may be very difficult for musicians to find a direction in which to move.

Long story short, this is a blog by an armchair musicologist talking about music. Writing has always helped me clarify my thoughts, which usually lead to improvements in my own compositional output. Maybe something interesting might come out of it.