Authenticity and Femininity in American Popular Music Culture

[A train of thought developed over dissertation free writing this morning]

I've always wanted to explore the use of "artistry" as a signifier in American Idol judges' critiques. It seems to come down to a matter of authenticity. Does the performer have an original voice that has been developed, or is the singer merely copying those who came before them? 

Authenticity is something that has been coming up a lot in critiques of female pop performers this summer. Katy Perry continues to ruffle feathers with her exoticism (article written before this video was even released) and cultural appropriation , which is also a similar complaint launched against Iggy Azalea. 

All of which comes back to early twentieth century American musical culture, where the women who were most popular in cultivated musical society upheld the status quo of female performers-- gentile decorum. And those who tried to do things differently were made into caricatures. Granted the closest appropriation for white women was that of public masculine identities. And the exotic other was still regulated to the racial others. 

But perhaps that is why we see such success with Taylor Swift. It's less than 24 hours old at this point, Taylor's newest music video plays directly to her fan base, much like the female classical musicians of the 1900s. Taylor tries out different genres of dance, realizing though that she doesn't fit, she "shakes it out" and joins in dancing with her fans. She might dress like Audrey Hepburn, and she seems to have 'shaken off' the country roots that helped launch her career, but she still appeases the widest possible audience without appropriating anything seemingly "inauthentic."

"Always be Chasing the Sun"

If you were to summarize my life's work in two words, it would easily be  Texas and music. Naturally women is the thread that connects the two. So here is what I ruminated on over Winter Break.

I travel a lot of back roads. I always have, but now Instagram and Pinterest has taken my interest in old abandoned places to a new level. So any chance I get, I take an out-of-the-way road to see if there's an old building, school, theatre, or graveyard to photograph. White Church Cemetery is one that I discovered along the way. Not too far away from my family's homestead (probably about 15 miles), it still sees a few visitors but is primarily filled with graves of long forgotten Texans who settled in a harsh Canyon hoping for a better life.

It was there that I discovered Martha and Mamie. Martha Turner (1875-1904) was "the sunshine of [her] home" according to her headstone. She is buried beside two baby girls who never even made it to one month old. And upon closer examination, Martha died nine days after baby Mamie died at birth. I've gone to plenty of old cemeteries, but over Christmas break, her headstone hit me harder than any I've ever seen. Think of the pain and suffering she felt in those days leading up to her death. The immense loss. Here was this Texas woman, the same age as me, and because of her desire to have children on this barely settled harsh land, she died. I obviously only know what the headstones tell me, but the three small cemeteries I visited in southern Nolan and Taylor counties were overrun with children born in the early 20th century who never made it to their first birthday.

On New Year's day, I took a daisy out to her headstone. I wanted something happy to be there. I wanted there to be a symbol that she was not forgotten. She is another example of why I do what I do. I want to chronicle the stories of strong women. Women who might have been forgotten, who fought for us to become what we are today. Women who paved the way for me to be able to work and live independently and earn a PhD. I do this in memory of them because they could not. They are what keep me pushing when I think I'm burned out and done.

As mentioned here before, Sara Bareilles is the voice inside my head; her music just speaks to my soul. Probably because she's a pianist songwriter who writes about doubting her abilities, her most recent album "The Blessed Unrest" has become my soundtrack (also, the title is a Martha Graham quote about persevering for your art, so bonus). And today "Chasing the Sun, " a song exploring life and death, summarizes my experience in that cemetery with Mamie and Martha. Texan pioneer life was rough-- we owe it to those who came before us to embrace this life and make the most of it that we can.

There's a history through her

Sent to us as a gift from the future, to show us the proof

More than that, it's to dare us to move

And to open our eyes and to learn from the sky

From a cemetery in the center of Queens

You said, remember that life is

Not meant to be wasted

We can always be chasing the sun!

So fill up your lungs and just run

But always be chasing the sun!

All we can do is try

And live like we're still alive