uncharted

About two years or so ago, I started a quasi-ritual. Every morning that I was needing motivation, I wrote on the inside of my left wrist. In sharpie, very small, and few words. It almost always was a song lyric or title. The first was "Don't Do Sadness" (from Spring Awakening). Other times it might be "Swim" (courtesy Andrew McMahon).  Or "Seize the Day" (Newsies).  All were inspirational for me.... push onward. McMahon wrote Swim while he fought cancer, with lyrics of "you've gotta swim/ swim for your life/ swim for the music that saves you/ when you're not so sure you'll survive." In Spring Awakening, Moritz was overwhelmed with life and tried to fight back, saying he wouldn't "do sadness, not even a little bit." All reminders that things aren't that bad, I just have to dig in.

For the last couple of months the word has become Uncharted. A couple of people have noticed and commented upon it, saying it was an odd choice, but never asking further what it meant. Ms Sara Bareilles, my generation's piano songstress (a la Carole King), is the author of this sentiment. And it is a constant reminder of my research and work.

During one of her live performances, Sara explains that this song is the "centerpiece" of her second album because she was petrified, unable to get over the writer's block associated with the "sophomore slump" so seemingly ever-present in pop music today. She said this got her over all her fears: "I didn't know if I had anything important to say. And it turns out I did, and it started with this song." One of its lyrics became the title of the album "Kaleidoscope Heart." And I am in love with the sentiment; as she puts it "It's all about being scared of the unknown, and realizing that the only way around it is through it."

I first just enjoyed the general piano groove she wrote (forgive the vagueness of that-- I'd rather not go all music theoretical analysis here), but then I kept hearing this lyric "compare where you are to where you want to be and you'll get nowhere." I didn't understand. In my mind, you're supposed to look where you want to be-- that's what goals are-- I see the end point that I want to get there. But I realized all I was thinking in the last year was getting the phd, getting a job, and building a house back on my family's ranch. The pressure of "will I get a job" which seriously is YEARS down the road was engulfing me. So I re-assessed my approach. Baby steps. I'm in my late 20s. I have 70 years to get back to the family farm. It might take a while, so let's just focus on the work here and now.

My life, my work is best left *uncharted*. I don't have to have the dissertation outlined tomorrow. I don't even have to graduate by 2014. It'll happen when it happens.  Perhaps I also relate a great deal because the thesis was my first attempts at a large academic tome; the dissertation will be my second. But I keep hearing the song more and more as an anthem for all of us with anxiety towards our work. She doesn't know where to begin, there's pressure weighing down upon her, but the resolve during the bridge is that

"I won't go as a passenger no
Waiting for the road to be laid
Though I may be going down
I'll take in flame over burning out"

She's going to fight back, be an active participant in her life. So instead of me worrying about extraneous factors that are to be dealt with years from now, I'll actively work towards the business at hand. Each day's work might not be perfect, but I won't allow myself to burn out from this stress.

Video embedded below. Notice for the video she used all of her fellow musicians, the ones who she said inspired her through the years. I think there's also a nice lesson with that as well....

the dissertation, Dec 2011

I pitched this idea to my advisor back in mid-August. Given an initial green light, I proceeded forward with my music club fieldwork, whose required background on early clubs and federation only helped to further refine and solidify that this is my topic. As of December, this is the dissertation, as I perceive it.


I will be investigating Musical America, from roughly 1850--1950, and exploring musical feminine idols. Women whose persona exuded femininity and thereby the media overtly emphasized their womanhood. I want to question whether, in an era of more pronounced gendered expectations, there can be a music that actually *is* feminine, and what those musical characteristics might be-- as they are embodied in musical expression, performance, staging, image, etc.

The concept might sound vaguely reminiscent of the master's thesis, but as I wrote in my personal notes back in mid-August, this dissertation will:
-- be more articulate and refined than the master's thesis [which really, isn't that the hope of all scholars?]
-- be more philosophically based
-- be more interpretative (rather than merely reporting phenomenon)
-- have some ethnomusicological roots
-- become more than simply a record of past trends
-- be something that can provoke future research and further debate


And to that today I add that the dissertation:
-- is focused around case study "characters" (women be it actual, idealized, or completely fictional)
-- it also does away with archetyping and tries instead to look at specific receptions of specific creative constructions of femininity. by and large, I hope the case studies will be "actual" women- performers, composers, patrons.... but I do leave room for fictionalized women.
--  looks at certain elements, not entire comprehsive factors of one phenomenon

I wrote back in August that "the goal is not to expand themes of the master's thesis. It is now to take the tools and knowledge developed from the master's thesis and apply it to another medium." I acknowledge readily that my research in Hildegard helped formulate this topic, but it happened earlier too... my fascination with Jenny Lind, and my undying affection for Cecile Chaminade (both ladies whom I suspect will be in this document someway or another). It also helped that I took a philosophy course over the summer, leading to the philosophical question of "can there be a feminine music" 

And this post cannot be completed without saying that yes, Susan McClary will be heavily influential in the foundation of the feminist musicological theories I propose. But I also hope that my general feminist theory class next semester will help (taught by a sociologist), as well as my future aesthetics course. I may not turn into MClary 2.0, but I do hope I can further the field of feminist musicology with this work. 

your time begins now...

(The title refers to that liminal moment when you've done all the preparation for a huge exam. Sitting in the classroom, you are awaiting its start, and with the anticipation rising, the professor makes the announcement. That moment is this post).

There's a new layout of this blog. I'm revamping its design and structure in preparation for the next stage of my academic development. I have spent this past semester in an ethnomusicology class, conducting fieldwork and oral history interviews with the local women's music club. The background research required of this assignment has only further solidified that I have a dissertation topic. It was a meandering path for the past year, but I know the basic gist of what I'll be writing for the foreseeable future, and so now I must begin to roughly sketch it out. Currently I'm still very much in the "background research" reading and methodology outlining phase, but I'm beginning to formulate ideas, case studies, and drafts that need to be chronicled somewhere. As per my advisor's suggestion, it is time to start free-writing to get the process going. Hopefully that means I will generate more content on this site.

I've decided that I will keep a running daily record of the status of my research. Again, suggested by my esteemed advisor as  "a way of getting squirmed down into the chair" (which he learned from Steinbeck). That journal will be placed in my personal notes, thoughts not to be published to the entire world (because really, no one should have to read them). But periodically, I will update here with a couple different kinds of posts (which I will label for easy sorting, if anyone cares for greater organization). Descriptions as follows:

-- general framing, ideology of dissertation (label: diss concept)
-- stories/summaries of individual women, events, or phenomenon (label: diss storytime)
-- important quotations, ideas, or insights derived from specific texts (label: diss lit)
-- memorable primary sources that I've tracked down (label: diss ex's)

This is the next step.... No more anxiety. No more cowboys or Indians for a while. I made a promise to myself over a year ago, and now I am paying up.

Gabby

This post is going to go off the academia/music track that this blog typically stays on perpetually. I'm reading Mark Kelly/Gabrielle Giffords book currently, which is somewhat uncharacteristic for me. I stay away from books based on current events because more often than not I feel like those types of books are published simply to make money, to generate revenue for its writers/publishing company. But this one I bought the week it was released because all that Gabrielle Giffords is/was, I find to be incredibly inspirational and though-provoking (again another uncharacteristic thing for me to read-- motivational tomes).

I could reference many stories, but I think the two take away points from the book are: 1) Mark Kelly's realization that everything he and his wife have done in their lives prepared them for this shooting and the subsequent long road to recovery. From their brief meeting with Stephen Hawking to training for NASA, small details and events informed their current situation. And 2) The smallest details of one's character are the things that are most endearing about a person and it is the fragility of personality that can be the most scary when it comes to brain trauma. [I should say I'm only half way through the book, so I'm sure there's more to be said].

On point 1)
Every chapter is a sort of dichotomous then/now. A reference to a past event that makes their present situation more understandable. I mentioned previously the training at NASA, which was one of the more revelatory moments for me as I read.... Not only for the practical advice this provides, but also questioning what tools am I learning now (both in and out of school) that will help me later in life.
"When I look back at my life, I see certain experiences and lessons that helped prepare me to be a caregiver to Gabby. At the Merchant Marine Academy, I learned to appreciate that actions have consequences; how you respond in a situation determines the chain of events that follow....
I also embraced the mantra of NASA's first flight director, Chris Kraft: When you don't know what to do, don't do anything. I kept that in mind, as I tried not to rush into decisions about Gabby. If there was time to collect facts and weigh data, I did it....
Training for and then flying the space shuttle, I learned how to think clearly under pressure, and how to avoid making mistakes when I was incredibly tired. That's a learned skill as well, and I'd need it in the early days after Gabby was shot, when I was functioning on just a couple hours of sleep."

On point 2)
Mark talks of Gabby playing with his wedding ring subconsciously and that only days after the shooting, that was one of the first things that she did. The first signs that she would be able to return to a state of somewhat normalcy. He also speaks of her moments of self-deprecating humor that re-emerged (calling herself Goofball when she said the wrong word) or the curiosity he misses- all the questions she once asked that is slowly coming back. The book highlights not only the woman that Gabby was before the shooting, but how that woman is now coming back to life- out of the fog that the trauma caused her brain.
The whole scenario leads to more questions: what parts of our personality are the most memorable and those that would "shine through" if something happened. What is the essence that you hope survives in the midst of a major life-altering injury. The subtitle of the book is "A Story of Courage and Hope." Are those the words you hope define you? When Diane Sawyer asked Gabby what is a word she uses to define Mark, Gabby looked lovingly at her husband and said very assertively "brave."

I'm not sure what would come through for me. I would hope my tenacity would remain. It just seems to be in my nature to buckle down and get the job done when needed. I also think my perfectionist streak would come out- wanting to do things right, being incredibly frustrated when I couldn't have things exactly as they should be. What I worry about is my tendency to stress. And perhaps if I can work on overcoming that feeling of being overwhelmed (as some have said the knee jerk "tailspin" reaction) every day, then if it becomes "crunch time," I would be more apt to cope. But I know one thing that I have in common with the amazing Gabrielle Giffords: my severe independent and stubborn streak. I try to be so incredibly self-reliant that if something debilitating did happened, I know having to rely on people 24/7 would frustrate me as much as it does her.

What I find so admirable about both Gabby and Mark is their persistent positive outlook. They were put in a very dark situation but yet they are able to learn and grow from the experience. The book is a way to also allows others to learn and grow from this situation; understand how our mind copes with trauma, how music can heal (read more about her music therapy team here), how love and laughter is its own form of medicine. I highly recommend reading more about this fierce and strong family.

Bonus: a recording of her voice from November 14, 2011

the tough nuts to crack

It's been 1.5 years since I taught my own music appreciation course, and in retrospect, I'm realizing some of the inherent problems with 1) the class structure and 2) how I consequently taught the course.

The biggest problem with the music appreciation course at my school was that it was designed for non-music majors to take at any point in their college career. Thus I frequently had first semester freshmen in the same course as last semester seniors. Very difficult to address study or writing techniques with that disparate age/maturity range. Therefore I was trying to instill in the younger crowd "this is how you write a short paper on a musical topic" while the older seasoned vet's were bored to tears. You can't assume the freshman will know how to do certain things-- they're coming out of a high school that handed them their assignments on a silver platter, explaining everything required to pass the state mandated tests. But if you start going into demanding task-master teacher mode, the senior college students (with, hypothetically, more on their plate) will have to drop the class because of time commitments. 

I say all this because of the sheer joy I experienced Friday after "guest lecturing" for a music appreciation course that is part of a larger initiative here. The course is created for "at-risk" college students. They are first semester freshman whose grades were not high enough to be admitted straight out for university. For one semester, they take courses on campus, but if they have more than three absences, they are dropped from the class and the program. These kids were awful-- they didn't take notes even when I told them to "write this down" (one person in fact asked me why), couldn't tell me the name of their textbook (no one brought it to class), I asked them to define terminology that was covered in previous classes with no responses (and their guesses were deplorable), there was constant talking amongst themselves, some on their cell phones, multiple sleepers, at least one with headphones in his ears- listening to music during this music class, and I had to abandon the powerpoint half way through class because the room required me to turn off the lights and it was becoming a zoo. Oh and did I mention they couldn't even tell me the name of their favorite musician? I asked them to write down a rock star or a music superstar they enjoyed and they stared at me blankly. Open ended questions freaked them out but more pointed questions they couldn't answer either. 

These kids weren't taught any sort of study skills, critical thinking skills, or classroom etiquette. It was in that class that I finally was able to become a true authoritarian--- calling students out for misbehavior that in my previous music appreciation class I would merely overlook. With my other music appreciation class I treated them like adults-- you are in college now, if you want to misbehave- that is your prerogative-- I will just fail you. [I also have had problems with being confrontational, but in this one class I was able to conqueror that... because when some punk tells me him leaning against the wall with his eyes closed *isn't* him sleeping through my class, I will call him out.]

This class demands more structure-- it demands someone cracking the whip. These students aren't ready for college-- if they were, they wouldn't need this sort of program. Therefore, it should be the professor's duty to be more of a task-master, harder disciplinarian, and demanding SOB than they ever saw in high school. Sure it might thin the herd, but if these students are ever going to graduate college, they need to learn what high school did not teach them. Leaving that classroom, I was inspired, thinking how I would create more discipline to have them learn these musical concepts. 

Here's a list that I came up with. Most are self-evident, but I'm fairly certain aren't being followed in the course presently, which led to their lax behavior.

• Textbook checks daily-- if they don't have their book, they're absent (and I should say the textbook I'd use for them is a new book so incredibly thin and light weight, they can't complain about "lugging" it around campus)
• Obvious expulsion from class for certain disruptive behaviors: on their cell phone, sleeping, headphone usage, excessive chatting
• Vocabulary/Concept quizzes frequently (every class in the beginning, more sporadic as semester progresses) to increase their musical vocabulary in order to be able to participate in class discussions
• Required online reading quizzes and discussions
• Take time to teach them proper note taking styles, writing/researching techniques
• Possibly even have them turn in their notes (or require them to retype their notes and submit a summary online) so that there is accountability
• Quick pace of lecture- the least lag in discussion requires moving on to another topic for fear of loosing them-- I had my lesson timed better than I had anticipated-- some things too longer, some were shorter, but in the end it went 45 minutes and I can work with that
• Constant reminder of the "so what, who cares" question-- these kids had "I don't care about some 19th century pianist" written all over their face-- so relating it to modern musicians and phenomenon

The frequent quizzes and nagging about textbooks are things that upperclassmen loathe (I know I did). College should have more freedom, less strictures in learning. And I would NEVER EVER consider it for my old music appreciation course. But since these students are fresh out of high school, I think part of the problem is not having them be more focused and rigorous. Plus being in this program demands that they are properly prepared for their possible future at this university. 

Friday afternoon, I couldn't figure out why this class went so awfully, yet I was so happy afterwards. I realize, though, I was inspired to this refined pedagogy because the students were all one level of maturity, and that I can definitely work with-- I can focus on their collective problems and gradually begin to rectify/un-do high school bad habits. As I told someone afterwards, teaching that class would rarely give you the "warm fuzzy good teaching vibes" that we educators thrive on, but it would be a huge challenge that might eventually pay off in the end. Their un-enthusiasm and lethargy over time can break a professor, but perhaps if you keep the "tough nut to crack" mentality in mind-- it's a problem solving pedagogical exercise. Plus there's that great adrenaline rush that happens after keeping a class pace so high-- so that never hurts. And even if you only help one-- that's one future college student that was refined because of your perseverance. 

Why I love Taylor Swift

I am 27 years old academic, and I cannot deny how much I adore Taylor Swift. Some might ask why I am attracted to her and her music. I am, by and large, a historical musicologist. I should not be swayed by such a pop princess. My shtick over the years has become more and more focused upon portrayals and receptions of women in American musical culture. So the only reason I can think of for my adoration is that, for all her faults, Taylor portrays herself as the strongest female possible that is accessible to the widest audience. 

When you run the gamut of young female music stars for girls to look up to, it's hard to find artists who embody positive life choices, family centrism, anti-consumerism, female empowerment. And Taylor does all of that. Unlike an artist like Ke$ha who exudes destructive behaviors and the importance of wealth, Taylor focuses her songs on herself. Sounds very selfish, but in the end she creates a narrative into which any girl can write her self. Sure most of the songs are about love, but they are also inherently about standing up for your self-worth. Her latest album she entitled "Speak Now," a seemingly odd title track, considering the storyline of the song is about a girl voicing her opinions during the wedding [she was not invited to] of her beloved. But she explained (and I could not find the citation to put here- so this is paraphrased) that speak now represented a girl finding her voice when it seemed difficult or out of place but having the courage to go ahead and say what you feel and mean when the moment demands it. The previous album was entitled Fearless-- also a song that was referencing love, but inherently it meant to stand up to face whatever was brought against you. She doesn't write songs about wealth; she doesn't even really talk about partying. Some of the songs are directly uplifting power anthems (see "Change" or "Long Live"). But overall her songs are about relationships, love, and savoring little moments of bliss (I especially loved "The Best Day", which was about her and her mother).

A recent blog post tells us that Taylor "spins, not shares" her private life. And true-- it is almost ridiculous the pointed-ness to which she writes her songs. (Need an example? "Dear John" from the last album. Listen to the first guitar lick and without knowing any of the gossip, you know exactly which John she is talking about). She has made light in the past of how she finds her inspiration in the men she dates, and that if they don't want to be written about, then they shouldn't treat her badly. It's a lot of mythos behind her "love life" and her song writing. But back to this blog post--- I appreciate the author singling out Kelly Clarkson, but I think she missed the mark- especially since she tries to contrast Kelly with Taylor. Kelly does exude the powerful woman, the "feisty gal who will not be broken by the jerks life puts in her way." And she does more so frequently than Taylor because Ms Swift allows herself to be vulnerable. But Kelly doesn't completely overcome that which is put in front of her. Known in her post-Idol career for ridiculously emotive and soaring live blues/soul vocals, every album produced has been in the "pop-rock" vein. After her "All I Ever Wanted" album, she remarked of the album cover something along the lines of "I don't know who that is on the cover, but she sure is beautiful." Kelly hasn't emerged as "independent" (I use quotations to also reference her first single) as many of us had hoped. She still waited over 6 months for this latest album to be released because of the record company. Contrast that with Taylor Swift, who at 15 [!!!] walked away from a major record label because she feared they wouldn't let her write her own music. She took a chance on a fledgling recording company because she knew the producer would allow her to have artistic freedom. Every song on every album she's recorded  has been written by her (and only occasionally with the assistance of a writing team). Taylor has been relentless on branding herself as the voice of an ordinary American girl. 

What I find amazing is that Taylor is cognisant of the power she has with her fans. She works to include them in her shows-- taking time out of each sold-out packed arena show to walk up and down the aisles to hug people as she goes to her secondary stage. She tells interviewers she is aware that she is a role model to young girls- so she never wears incredibly short skirts, doesn't smoke/drink. She loves her parents- her mom goes with her everywhere. And I think simply the image of a young girl, standing up to the recording industry, to all the nay-sayers (and even writing songs about it), and continuing to be confident in her abilities as a musician and artist is so commendable. 

She has a magnetic personality. A friend of mine, with me when we saw Taylor live, said "If Taylor wasn't singing, I think she'd make a good Disney princess." She is electric and so incredibly expressive with her movement on stage. She draws you into her stories. Perhaps she is spinning her songs, but the staying power of her fairy tale-esque songs might be the 10,000+ people a night who watch her, singing along to every word. It's not like a Justin Bieber concert (who by the way does nothing to help formulate a positive male role model for boys)-- where the girls scream over his "sex appeal"-- Taylor's audience is about 75% women/girls. We were definitely not the only 20 something-year old pair of girls at the concert that night. And the girls are singing because something in Taylor's lyrics touched them. She is quite relate-able for all. 

And sure there are a litany of other complaints we can throw out from her detractors-- she's vapid, relationship-centered, cannot sing, etc. But one true mark of this remarkable woman.... every single member of her band has been with her for the past three years and has nothing but wonderful things to say. They stick together on tour, hanging out, creating movies like large extended families do. So we could say it's all an act, but if her inner circle loves her as much as it appears, how is it possible that she is anything but what she projects in interviews/on stage. Over the weekend, I watched the documentary from her Fearless tour and it was inspiring. She does so much for the fans, for her band, and thinks so critically about the experience and images she is projecting. 

And it is because she is constantly thinking of her projected image and her target audience that I think makes me, as a women's scholar, love her even more. 

"and I'm back in the game!" *

I took a year long hiatus from conferences. From abstracts, proposals, and travelling. It wasn't entirely intentionally done, but starting around the beginning of this year especially, I think I had some research demons I needed to exorcise. And on the flip side, I think I now have a clear idea of what I do as a scholar, what I want to do in the upcoming years, and what I'd like to present to the world. I'm not ready to start writing a dissertation yet, but the work I 'm doing now will only help inform the document as it begins to take shape in the upcoming year. Writing of a proposal to commence in 8 months-ish. So one year minus one week from the last conference I attended, I'll be presenting again on my campus, at a conference with quite a bit of buzz surrounding it. And after that, I've got four abstracts either out for review or in the queue to be submitted. It's time for me to get back in the game. No more sitting on the bench.

I had a great deal of anxiety about these abstracts. I love presenting so much, but the time away was overwhelming. Did I loose my mojo? Last night's email was such a relief, affirmation, and then celebration. Emme can attest to that. We danced around the living room. Maybe not this awesomely, but the feeling was the same never the less.



*title of this post was one of the first thoughts that entered my head at 515pm last night. It's also an obscure quote from 10 Things I Hate About You.

from Historiann

Below quote taken from a post found here.

Given this evidence of humanity’s depressing credulity and willingness to ignore any lessons history might offer, what is the point of learning history, then?  Is it in fact just the realm of buffs, hobbyists, and antiquarians?  Are professional historians really just well-educated bar bet settlers?  Maybe.  But I also think that while humans are greedy and have powers of delusion much stronger than their impulses to reflect on the lessons of history, I also think that history is what sets us apart from the other animals.  We need to remember as much as we clearly need to forget.  Forgetting is easy and usually more comfortable, but history is what makes us human.

The work of history teachers and professors, archivists, museum experts, historic preservationists, and cultural resource managers is to preserve and remember as much of it as we can.  Like Christian monks after the fall of Rome who rounded up all of the manuscripts they could and kept the light of literacy and learning alive during the barbarian invasions, we may not understand or fully appreciate what it is we’re saving or commemorating now.  But it must be saved and preserved for the sake of future generations of people who may know better what to do with it and what it all means.  Political leadership in the future will probably continue making the same mistakes, but the conservators of history will probably see it all coming, again and again.

writing style

Something to aspire to:

My writing style relies heavily on the juxtaposing of radically different registers of speech: colloquialisms continually arise to deflate the high tone of complex theoretical formulations, slightly veiled allusions to biblical scripture or pop tunes proliferate, and puns become crucial to the rhetorical structure of individual essays....

But I write in this fashion in order both to resist the rigid conventions of traditional academic prose and to stimulate in my writing something resembling the shocking juxtapositions, reversals, and discursive disjunctions that characterize music itself. To describe music in stiff, colorless language devoid of pleasure is to belie the extravagant push and pull of music as it is experienced. I decided long ago... that if I could not have fun when I wrote, then I did not want to bother.

from Susan McClary's Feminine Endings, pg xii (the retrospect introductory chapter from 2002 edition)

A Note on The Voice

A couple of days ago, yahoo's Reality Rocks column claimed that The Voice is officially "the Anti-Idol."  She saw the results of the Idol process/machine that caused it to be "broken" and said that comparatively The Voice fixes many of these issues. I understand and agree with the sentiment, and while the writer made some salient points, she really only looked at the what is perceived as problems of the recent American Idol.

As to not gloss over these, here's a quick list:
- [previously mentioned on this blog] the final four of the Voice have greater diversity (it most definitely won't be a white guy with guitar winning)
- Voice judges seem more interested in their singers
- Voice producers don't gloss over idiosyncratic personalities (and lifestyles- there are gay people!)
- [adding my own] there's no predictable winner on The Voice- all are equally talented- and producers haven't pushed a winner in their scripting of judges critiques

But truth be told, I checked out of watching The Voice weeks ago- starting at the gut wrenching half cuts each week (battle rounds where the contestant pool went from 32 to 16, then 16 to 8, etc etc), with the mentors not always choosing the "better" singer. This leads me to the problems with the show that make it no better than Idol:

-The time frame of finding a winner has become sped up exponentially, but there is a ridiculous amount of wasted time. Voice judges heap praise on the live performances-- partially because they critique the singers in their mentor sessions. But we only see brief fragments of these sessions and then hear 5 minutes of how wonderful the singer is. This is no better than Idol's "you get a gold star for making a mistake on live television because it shows you are human" theme of positive-ism in the last season.
- The issue with having a sped up time frame is that we don't get to see the true essence of the contestants. They are characterature-d to an extreme. In the final four, we've got the tattooed bald lesbian, the short spicy rocker girl, the soulful R&B melismatic man, and the quirky indie girl who needs a little more confidence.The song choices thus become infuriatingly expected. The Indie girl will choose a song to "make her own." The country boy who lost his mom will sing a country song about God. The lesbian soul girl will sing Melissa Etheridge. They don't have time to break out of their mold. The best part of Idol? Having contestants who don't fit into a box (Melinda Dolittle's impeccable vocal ability and passion wouldn't fit on The Voice). Furthermore having contestants who grow throughout the competition and who choose unexpected genres (okay I'm biased with Haley Reinhart's recent glorious rise from "ugh that growl, again?" to "this is sheer bliss on stage").
- But the problem with having enigmatic performers on Idol, "undiscovered" talents like Haley or Melinda is that they don't translate into commerically viable recording artists. Today's industry wants nothing more than one-dimensional "we know who you are in 5 seconds" artists. It's less about the singing ability* and more about the spectacle that the artists are willing to engage in. And isn't that The Voice in its essence? Oh look, big name artist mentors, shiney stage, dancers, social media out the wazoo. The Voice is much more spectacle driven than Idol ever though of becoming.

* I also have a problem with the general level of singing talent of these four artists. Cracked notes, pitch problems, constant over singing from most. I can take this from Idol- where if you want to try out, you better not have even though of having a recent recording contract. Idol thrives on young talent. The Voice features all four finalists who have released albums in the past, have toured. So they are seasoned musicians. After hearing that, I had hoped they would have a greater command of their voice. For me, music is not always about stage presence and spectacle (link to the closing performance last night. enjoyable, yes. indicative of current pop music today, yes.good singing? not as much). It's reality TV. I really shouldn't expect to see true meaningful musical moments (okay you get to every once in a while - sorry had to throw that in).

I DVR'ed and then fast forwarded through the finale last night- only watching the mentoring and singing parts. The original songs and the duets given to these constants again were predictable played into their musical personas crafted on that stage. Their original songs all featured a ridiculously repetitive form, with the short "hook-driven"** chorus sung incessantly to pound it into the minds of the viewers. I stopped listening to the 3ish minute songs halfway through because I was so incredibly bored with it all.

** I use quotes because of the another music reality competition on Bravo- Platinum Hit- where songwriters write songs in the span of one or two days. Team captains for each challenge are chosen based on their "hook" alone. It's another blog post in itself. We have become such a twitter-ized nation with such a short attention span that songs have to be limited to a memorable hook or else they are doomed to fail in the music industry. [Platinum Hit is very enjoyable in my opinion. It's "hit or miss" as their catch phrase goes, but there have been some very interesting collaborations going on over there. Formulaic Bravo reality show editing, but still at its essence interesting.]

Despite my rant and misgivings, the fact of the matter is that these four finalists will likely be more commercially successful than any of the previous four Idol winners. Yes, Idol does need to limit viewer voting; it needs to find judges that don't follow producer's scripts. It needs to embrace enigmatic figures on the stage. But in this music industry of today you don't create music- you create an image, a show. Artists tell audiences who they are and what they sing very quickly. And The Voice, more so than Idol, does that.
So what I'm saying is that The Voice might fix some of the problems of American Idol. It might create a new viable pop star. But it doesn't even begin to fix the industry- it only makes our musical society's widespread problems worse.

re-assessing, Texas style

Lately I've been so incredibly indecisive. Unable to research without this knot building up in my stomach. Even the previous post (where I said I found comfort in the topic) led to great anxiety. I didn't end up submitting an abstract. I couldn't bring myself to write anything out- say definitively my stance on things. I'm happy with researching turn of 20th century musical women, but I couldn't get a foothold in the material. I couldn't find a focus that I was incredibly happy

So I punted. And didn't think about it for the last month. And have simply lived life without the thought of a dissertation on the horizon or conferences that I should present at. And a host of things have suggested to me to start down the path of an entirely new topic. Where it leads or if it goes anywhere, who knows. Sadly, this blog might quickly turn into a "look at this shiny new nook of musical history.... well onto the next one." But maybe there's something here.

First, the precepitating influences:
- this blog post about the self-identity of Texans
- finding out that my family's ranch is in fact 105 years old this August. there's no escaping it, I'm a proud Texan. so perhaps I should try to understand this state and what it means.
- an estate sale that led me to recordings of Bob Wills and other ensembles singing songs with themes of Texas and cowboys
- my previous post about dissertation topics (including Indians and a woman that wrote for a Texas stage show in 1936)
- the need for a topic that I can "get away" with working on during work (especially the idea of collecting new materials for the archive while researching at the same time)
- a specific collection we are processing that has old recordings of a vocal quartet of "ranch boys" from the 1940s


Now the themes:
-romanticizations of identity
- regionalism
-stereotypes and overt-characterizations
- popular music and culture, sheet music and promulgation
- staging, costuming, touring
- musical semiotic cues

As to not be quite so vague, something about the identity of Texas, Cowboys, and Indians in the first part of the 20th century that was built out of wild west shows and vaudeville. Not accurate portrayals but exaggerated depictions of the sentimentalized west as it was beginning to disappear in the technological 1900s. Looking also at how this state's musical performers have embraced this culture. Possible offshoots might get into country music, mascot selections, themes of musical reviews (this production started in 1938), and the WPA's works with folk music and art. This revelation of new topics happened last night. Background research and primary source hunting to commence as soon as work allows.

Devotion

"There's a warm and concentrated comfort in devotion. It possesses a single focus, and so it gives back an instant and manageable gratification." -- Lee Davis from Scandals and Follies: The Rise and Fall of the Great Broadway Review




The above quote is the first line of Scandals and Follies- my background reading for understanding the zeitgeist that gave us some of the more fascinating, under-researched stage productions of the early 20th century. Davis says his "abiding allegiance" has always been musical theater. And I feel that way about the musical culture of women. I try not to be one dimensional- oh, there's that girl who always studies girls. But I feel such a connection to this; like Davis says, there's a comfort I feel when I'm trying to hash out the subtext between the Gibson Bathing Girl and the Brinkley Bathing Girl. So I have my 15 new books checked out, 20 new articles/dissertations downloaded, and I'm ready to dig into all this. We'll see where it takes me.


[Further explanation: Dissertation option number 1 from the previous post was brought to the next level about a week ago with a CFP for gilded gender topics. Digging further into the early Ziegfeld Follies has led to simply too many questions for me to even begin to formulate a competent abstract for March 2012. That means two things: one- rehash some Etude materials (never a bad thing), and two- read as much as possible on this topic for future research ideas. It doesn't mean it'll be a dissertation topic (yet), but it means Ziegfeld was doing an awful lot of gender commentary in his pre-1910 reviews- poking fun at the changing characterizations of American women- from Gibson to Christy to Brinkley and beyond. So this has only just begun.]

Dissertation Options

It's considerably early in my phd career (especially considering I'm on the "one course a semester, this'll take me 100 years to graduate" plan).  But after not having a thesis topic until 1.5 years into my masters degree, I keep wanting to get my dissertation topic decided. Maybe not details or exactly what I'll cover, but the general scope, era, subject matter. So right now, I have three viable options. I don't want to say too much- I'm still trying to see what materials are available. But below, I post 3 artifacts to highlight the three topics. A sort of teaser trailer. [these are in no particular order]

 (source)

 (source, pg 96)

Mary, part 1

Note: this is the first post of a new series that I'll return to occasionally.

A couple of months ago, I was given a collection of sheet music. Not the archive, not me at work. Me, the feminist musicologist who's obsessed with turn of the 20th century ephemera. One of my mom's coworkers had been keeping her great-aunt's sheet music collection from the 1900-1920s; she heard of my research interests and thought I could use it. She graciously gave it to me in the hopes that I could use it for research, but I've found it's turned into something even more personal.

At estate sales/antique stores, I tend to buy up old pictures of anonymous women (anywhere up until the 1940s or so). I once found a scrapbook of a school teacher in rural Texas; it chronicles her journey from late high school to her first teaching gig. I'm planning on scanning the pages and putting them online-- showing the amazing life that has been forgotten.
I think that's why I keep obsessing over Etude women, clubwork, old pictures, and now Mary's sheet music. Mary died early in life-- she never married, never got to live a full life. She spent her days at the piano- playing this music, dreaming of an optimistic future in exotic places (more on that in future posts). If not for a distant relative keeping her keepsakes, she would be lost, forgotten. Maybe I make it overly personal... maybe it's my way of projecting... hoping that one day the small things I do/collect/make won't be forgotten.... that how I spend my days will be passed down and remembered. Regardless...

I want these women and what they did with their lives to be remembered. I want to highlight the [however mundane it might be] life that they led. I hate to think that women who weren't big names, who didn't win fame and fortune, are of lesser significance to their well-chronicled counterparts. (Of course I'm finding that even those who were somewhat well known are still forgotten to the "sands of time." Case in point: possible next research topic- one Dana Suesse, a Tin Pan Alley composer who wrote the music for the stage review for the 1936 Texas Centennial celebration. But that's yet again another story, another post.)

So Mary, you are not forgotten. Your sheet music helps to carry on your legacy, and I will chronicle it here. On this tiny, insignificant blog with the few readers who might accidentally read this.

Coming up: I'll look into the topics that Mary seemed to gravitate towards, and explore what little we know about her life. And then I'll get less musicological and draw conclusions about how this sheet music helps us define her identity (I feel like a fortune-teller, interpreting and reading my own story into these, but maybe there's some truth somewhere in it all).

semantics

This post will probably seem to be a continuation of the previous post... that continuity is somewhat unintentional but allows me to reiterate my mindset that remains today.

The other day, a fellow musicologist asked me casually after class, "so how are things at the library."

... we pause now for 3 asides
Aside number 1: this musicologist has always felt an inherit battle between she and I, one that I did not ever realize until she lamented that I always "won." So when she took the "high road" by continuing full-time phd work and teaching, I'm sure she felt that she had surpassed me in our little musicological world.
Aside number 2: I try not to hierarch-ize things, but I'd like to think that what I do here is more akin to museum work than librarian duties. I'm not providing books to the masses; I'm cultivating rare materials for researchers/interested parties. Now this musicolgist was briefly a music librarian. So perhaps that was her linguistic tendency-- to ask how things were at the library. It's a small semantic thing, but the way she spoke it was a bit derogatory. As if what I'm doing must be awful and I must be really upset. Case in point: her reaction.
Aside number 3: My guess is that in asking this she was trying to put aside number 1 and 2 together. She has surpassed me and is "more" of a scholar than I am. She thus wants to ask me how things are in my little library job in order to compare our life choices: mine versus her stressful, juggle three jobs/still full time phd world. [Perhaps I over analyzed a small casual statement. But for the purposes of this blog post, I'm making it a question a true case of semantics: studying the meaning of it all.] 
... end of asides

My upbeat response: "Today has been great. I've been my boss' research assistant practically all week. He brought in this collection to assist him with his dissertation topic. So we've been digging through boxes, uncovering a lost singing school tradition that happened in this area in the 1930s. We're piecing together the history artifact by artifact."
Her response, "Oh. Neat."
End of conversation.

I think it surprises people that I get to do musicological work on a daily basis, while at the same time learning preservation techniques, uncovering new nooks & crannies of musical history, and teaching my student workers random musical knowledge. Oh and I'm getting paid to do so. I think if you're looking for a low stress but rewarding job, I don't know if you can find a better one. Especially if you're a historic preservationist nut like I am. True, I'm still not creating the scholarly tomes I once churned out daily. But at least I am not in a job that makes me forget the techniques I've developed completely.
This week still holds more digging, perhaps almost more enjoyable digging at that. We're going through the 6 boxes of photographs hoping captions and iconographic study can answer more questions raised about this gospel music groups/singing school education/early radio entertainment tradition.

And in a couple of months, I'll be out in the field  (and in a town very close to my hometown at that!) trying to piece together yet another musical tradition of this area: conducting oral history interviews, soliciting memorabilia, and visiting landmark sites.
This may not have been my initial intention when singing up for graduate school, and the world of musicology, and it may not pay quite as well as a full-time tenure track teaching position would possibly bring me in 5 years time. But it is quite enjoyable nevertheless. As the farmer said to Babe, "that'll do.... that'll do."

thoughts on life, priorities, and academia

Yet again, this blog has been neglected. I have done little substantial research in the past months, primarily because I needed to take a step back. I don't think I'm quite ready to dive back head-first into all my work quite yet, but I'm getting there. I've seen at least two CFP for abstracts at feminist musicological conferences that I intentionally did not submit abstracts. I am going to do this right, however this needs to be done. Right now, I think that means a lot more reading and thinking. And less rushing into production (of scripts/texts/powerpoints/etc).
I'm currently working on a post for this blog that has to do with sheet music and identity. Sounds scholarly, but really it's just telling one woman's story. That should be up in the next week or so.

I'm posting here today because my google reader has been inundated with articles about people falling out of love with academia. The latest I just read comes from "I Used to be Disgusted, Now I Try to Be Amused," who is giving his restless farewell to teaching. The link takes you to the second part of his list of grievances and observations. It pretty much verbatim is how I feel about teaching and university life at this stage in time. I had an "amen brother" moment when he said "One thing that drew me to an academic career was the desire to be involved in something more meaningful than our society's unceasing cycle of consumption and greed." Hint: it's not that way anymore when the students don't care about what you are teaching, only that they get through your class with the A that they "paid for." [If you are interested, parts one and three can be found there, respectively. Interesting observations, though they are a little more explicitly personal and less philosophical.]

And I should say that I NEVER had the teaching headaches that many of these writers had. In fact, my teaching experience was by-in-large an incredibly rewarding and wonderful time. I feel like my jump into a full-time archive job, however, was a preemptive strike: an attempt to not reach the point amusedanddisgusted reached. Or reach the point that other bloggers are lamenting: a completed phd and no job to be found. In many posts, the website versatilephd.com is mentioned. I have not joined the "community" yet, but the possibilities of branching out beyond the classroom is hopeful. I think the job I kind of fell into is one such example. It hasn't always been an easy thing to accept for me- no longer teaching, no longer a full-time student-.... I've had at least one meltdown (one that was especially noteworthy, there were other smaller ones). It was in the midst of two research projects and lots of emotional juggling. Now I'm trying to view things with hopefully a wider perspective on my situation and I think I truly am happy with what I've decided. Right before Christmas break, an Edison cylinder phonograph was donated to my archive, and I nearly started crying. I have been able to touch the history I have studied moreso here than I would have otherwise.

 People have been posting links in the comments section of aforementioned "buh-bye academia" articles of others who are going through the same phenomenon. It led me to this article, which I think completed describes how I'm feeling today. "But there is appreciation and compensation of a different sort." What I am doing today comprises different priorities, and I'm at peace with what is transpiring now. I am producing things--- not tons of text, but tons of stitches. I'm reading again, voraciously. I have time at work to teach myself basic skills in Adobe Creative Suite- something I've always wanted to be able to do. I'm not finding compensation in the excitement of a classroom of engaged students, but I am finding further compensation in my reduced stress levels, home cooked meals, and puppy cuddling on the couch without guilt. I am not teaching music appreciation, but I am finding my own greater appreciation in the music that I am conserving, that I am attempting to write about someday. [The article also mentions AWL "always writing lectures," and that perhaps was my worst habit of all. Something that after many months of not teaching, I have almost stopped doing now.]


*trying to figure out a way to wrap up all of these ideas.....*
I'm still here, I'm still trying to become a worthy scholar. Hopefully, 2010 (the year I started this blog), has given me more perspective to pursue the things that I am most passionate about.