Contra-Dance Involvement

            Contra-dance is a prime example of the participatory values we have discussed throughout this course. With the friendly and patient veterans, live old-style music, and welcoming atmosphere, one instantly feels welcome and most inhibitions disappear once the music starts.
            Initially, I couldn't help thinking of the square/swing dancing unit we had to take in grade school. I felt the tiniest bit apprehensive about this unfamiliar dance style, but overall I felt excited to learn the fundamentals of contra-dance and happy to be greeted with smiling and inviting faces. Those feelings grew during the learning process, as did my anticipation to start dancing. The feeling that came when the music began was one of communal engagement and freedom within the structure of the dance moves. While dancing, I felt like I was not purely inside my own mind, but aware of the bigger picture taking place during the event. As I was focused on getting the dance moves correct but not being able to keep the smile off of my face, I realized everyone else was focused on doing the same thing; almost everyone was visibly happy to be there and obviously involved with the moves and how they placed with the beat. Since this was my first time there, I initially considered myself an addition, but the word "addition" to me implied "extra," so the word I would use is contribution. I could feel that I was accepted into this activity because of the complete lack of alienation from the veteran dancers. The only comments I heard from them were constructive corrections and compliments that perpetuated the feeling of acceptance and want to participate. As with the drum circle, the desire to execute correctly was definitely present (because you wanted to keep the activity going for everyone else), but it was undermined by the overarching goal of simply having fun. No judgment was passed towards any of the newcomers, nor between the normal participants for that matter, which reinforced the feeling of camaraderie. Compared to contemporary and popular forms of dance that can be labeled as removed and observational, contra-dance is very personal and interactive. The reasoning could be that contra-dance has its roots in early American culture (before that, Irish culture) when intimate relations with your neighbors was not only essential to social collaboration and survival (trading goods), but expected out of common curtesy. Those same notions are translated into modern contra-dance by having everyone dance with everyone, having relations with other participants outside of the weekly event, and by simply looking in your partners eyes to keep from getting dizzy, creating a certain intimacy with a stranger that could be uncomfortable to most people of younger generations but is completely natural to those accustomed to contra-dance and old-time etiquette.

            I personally am going to make a point to attend the weekly contra-dance once a month at minimum, because the event had such a strong positive effect on me. I came away with a thought of "why doesn't everybody do this?" which in turn made me categorize this event as pragmatic. Other than gaining attendees by word of mouth among friends, the contra-dance is not solicitous or propagandist towards non-attendees. Simply sharing the good experiences had at the contra-dance has greatly helped sustain the want/need for such an event on a weekly basis. If support for a small cohort like this can be so strong, imagine the possibilities with a larger event or project (for the greater good) when everyone knows they can participate and feel fulfillment in some way shape or form.

Punk Promoting Potential Peace

          Since I learned about the existence of punk music around middle school, I have assumed it is purely a shallow, loud, angry, and dark form of music. After experiencing this documentary, "The Punks Are Alright," I realized that my assumption was far from the truth.
          Spanning from Canada to Brazil to Indonesia, the documentary presents and explains a tightly-knit and far-reaching network of ideals that are expressed through punk music. The main theme in punk music is that of rebellion, more specifically rebelling against the "system." I believe that everyone harbors a need for defiance (some more than others), and punk not only operates as a musical outlet that people can identify with, but also (by behaviors described as 'punk,' for instance moshing) provides a relatively safe and accepting environment to relieve those built-up frustrations. The economic marginalization of "third world" countries by capitalist "first world" countries such as the U.S. gives the punk musicians and fans great fuel to burn their rebellious flame. It is difficult for people living in America to wrap their heads around the oppressive lifestyle in which Brazilian drug dealers and Indonesian factory workers live day-in and day-out, but it is also difficult not to sense the unity punk gives these people. By outright expressing an oppressive situation in the lyrics and, again, simply giving the essence of rebellion through its style, punk makes it so that people all over the world will be able to relate, especially if literal rebellion is out of question for their situation. To quote an Indonesian worker named Dolly in the documentary, "punk is a remedy for my sickness." The "system" comes out to be mainly capitalism, and the societies that perpetuate capitalism in turn economically marginalizing "third world" countries like Brazil and Indonesia; hence the popularity of this music in those countries.
          Americans are lucky to be living in a nation that enforces religious freedom, and while certain religious groups feel strongly opposed to others, America does not live in a state of potential war between these different groups. In Brazil, however, "there are two things you don't talk about: soccer and religion." The people of Brazil don't want any more conflict than there already is. Kids and teenagers are getting murdered on the streets daily because of gang or drug wars, a statistic was shown that stated the Brazilian police killed 610 people that year, and Henrike of The Blind Pigs said that when he was an English teacher, many of his female students were raped and abused by their fathers. In an environment like this, who wouldn't turn to something higher to be a source of comfort? "Religion is all these people have, man." Being a part-time cynic, I can't help but think of Marx's quote, "religion is the opium of the people," but applying it to this society, "opium" suggests toxicity which could be attached to the hypocrisy brought about by the dominant religion. Stemming from this notion of hypocrisy, there was a t-shirt that Henrike really identified with that read "God, save me from your followers." It is interesting to hear his opinion on religion, because he recognizes the prevalence and foundational aspect of Catholicism in Brazil (particularly in the face of hardship), yet verbally and through his music calls out those who use their religion as a shallow facade and an excuse for discrimination (for example, the old ladies who made the sign of the cross upon seeing him). In the case of Indonesia, Jerinx of Superman Is Dead recognizes the prevalence and foundational aspect of Islam. He says that from the time you are a child, you are taught that everyone else's religion is wrong, and while this creates unity and comfort amongst Muslims, the confrontational teachings prove to alienate other modes of thought and belief.
          By listening to the people in this documentary, I realized that punk is not a choice of preferred music style; it is a lifestyle people adhere to according to their situation. Punk has at its foundation a basic ideology of defiance that makes it so popular among people experiencing economic and political oppression/repression, and provides a safe and productive outlet for the stress and frustration brought about by these circumstances.

Apples, Art, and Atmosphere

             Farmers from Bloomington and neighboring towns travel to the corner of 7th and Morton St. where a plaza in front of City Hall is waiting to be filled by fellow farmers, craft and food vendors, musicians, and supportive patrons. The Bloomington Farmers' Market is said to be the largest farmers' market in Indiana, and after one visit (the start of many to come) I can clearly see why so many people attend and enjoy the event.

             It is obvious that the farmers' market would not be possible without the numerous participants supporting the event. There are several slots of space available for farmers and vendors to rent (represented on map by large rectangles with drawings of various produce items), and multiple busking venues (ones we visited represented by barred eighth notes) dispersed throughout the plaza for use during the market season (April to November). In the prepared food section (cluster of squares on map) I was able to speak with two of the vendors: David from the "3 Days in Paris" crèpe stand, and a man from the Brown County Coffee stand. David said that he was a student at Indiana University last year but this year has decided to pursue a culinary career, one that is supported by the farmers' market. I would say he and his coworkers are doing pretty well considering they have to periodically stop taking orders for half an hour just to catch up (and the BLT crèpe I ordered was delicious). The man at the coffee stand was kind enough to provide me the flavor profiles of different coffees they had available before I chose one to buy, and informed me that the beans are locally roasted and come from a distributing company that gets them directly from the source (the examples he gave were Bali and Colombia). Another group of participants is the musicians that come to busk and enjoy the atmosphere of the farmers' market. One band I saw while there was called Busman's Holiday, comprised of two brothers with a simple, folk-type sound playing guitar and snare drum/suitcase. Our teacher's assistant, Kerry, had previously seen them perform at other venues around town which told me that they were involved in multiple factions of the community. I enjoyed their music enough to buy their album that they had for sale. Every second Saturday of the month, the farmers' market hosts a "Fair of the Arts" where local artists and crafters are invited to set up a station from which they can sell their products (cluster of triangles on map). One of the first things I noticed about the people attending the market was that there were kids of ages ranging from infant to preteen everywhere. This immediately told me that the whole activity was extremely accepting of and inviting to families; the fact that the farmers' market enforces a smoke-free atmosphere added to this. One thing that the director of the market (Marcia Veldman) mentioned during the Q&A session is one of the benefits to the farmers' market is that it allows an opportunity for the parents to introduce their children to eating fresh, healthy foods in a positive environment to hopefully culture healthy eating habits and an appreciation for fresh and nutritious produce.

             Collectively, the market sustains a feeling of unity among the patrons and vendors, such that even by merely walking around and browsing the products available you gain a sense of contribution. You also can observe the vendors interacting with each other in such a way that suggests frequent conversations and long-term relations. When ordering my crèpe from David, he suggested that I also get a soda called "spuma," then hollered over to the neighboring Italian pastry stand (which was Piccoli Dolci) "Maria, I got you another spuma customer!" Not only could I sense they have been neighbors before, but this exchange increased the participatory setting of the entire market; while making his own profit, David wanted to help Maria gain more patrons as well. Another observation that increased the participatory factor of the market was I saw an older man in overalls and thick glasses with an oxygen tube under his nose step up to a man playing a song familiar to him on ukulele and sing harmony with him. The man playing the ukulele (later I found out his name was Mitch) immediately accepted this stranger's contribution to his music without any expectation of a tip. While perusing the produce section, we ran into a girl named Megan, whom Krista had met at Max's Place during our "field work," carrying some flowers she bought. She is a regular at Max's open mic night, but also told us that her brother was across the plaza selling maple syrup that he had made with their father. Megan is an example of a patron who supports the community through her family and by simply attending community events and purchasing local goods.

             The whole event provides a safe and fun weekend activity that promotes social bonding within the community and supports the business of local individuals. In the words of Mitch, a man who was playing the ukulele and has attended the farmers' market since it was founded more than thirty years ago, "it's in the morning, it's clean, family-friendly and nobody's drunk." Produce vendors must meet the criteria of either being the actual farmer or be a (minimum) weekly employee of the farmer. This means that the funds used to purchase said produce is being put directly into the hands of the grower, as opposed to farmers getting paid a small percentage of the profits made by commercial grocery stores. Another direct financial benefit of the farmers' market is towards the local crafters and artists. Again, the funds used to purchase said items is going straight from the consumer to the crafter. In Megan's case, she told us that her father and her brother have mostly taken on the task of tapping trees and making/selling the syrup, but her whole family has enjoyed and still enjoys being a part of the market.

             The Bloomington Farmers' Market serves as an important, irreplaceable event in the Bloomington community. By providing farmers with full profit amount, customers with direct contact to their growers, and everyone involved with a sense of belonging and carefreeness, the market incorporates a participatory atmosphere into community building and social bonding in which all are invited and encouraged to take part.

Four Fantastic Fields

           This first youtube clip features a man named Clyde Casey and his percussive conglomerations with which he encourages every passerby to create a rhythm. Even though some of the participants' rhythmic inclination is not as finely tuned as his, you still see Casey putting drumsticks in their hands. I classify this as a participatory performance because Casey is not the primary actor, there is no distinction between artist and audience, and you can clearly see that Casey solely wants to see people add into the collective sound and have a good time (even the videographer joins in). With participatory music, there is a strong expectation and potential for mass participation, and there are a number of ways one can do so. Collectively dancing to the beat, singing along, adding short improvised riffs, clapping, and other activities that intensify the connection between the participants. The limitations, however, include stifling individual "talent," enduring others who might be off-pitch/out of tune/off-beat, and having to sustain an environment that accommodates people in all shades of the spectrum of skill.

            The values and goals of presentational music are quite different than those of participatory music. Instead of ensuring maximum participation, presentational music is just that--a presentation, with a distinct separation between audience and presenters and a clean-cut, rehearsed presentation. These distinctions are demonstrated by this "live" concert of Queen performing Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy (as compared to the video above). Queen was focused on providing a fun, interesting atmosphere for the people attending the concert, and was not concerned about, and probably didn't want, people participating in the actual music making (audience members could have "participated" by singing along and clapping, but as far as being a part of creating music, they were not). Presentational music gives skilled musicians a chance (potential) to show off their musical prowess, but also places an expectation on the artist to not only demonstrate their ability but to also maintain the audience's attention. Since a performer is not responsible for the audience's participation, and the audience recognizes that they are not expected to participate, a barrier is formed between the two sides of the performance that comes from the minimal direct interaction, being the lead singer speaking during transitions and audience members clapping after/singing during a song.

             High fidelity is probably the most popular field of music in America today. The reason for this is that America's capitalist and "bigger = better" values run alongside the goals of high fidelity music which are creating a product for revenue and digitally engineering an album to be able to sustain a listener's attention without visual aid. This means that the artist must incorporate more rhythmic variety, bigger and better beats, exciting lyrics or themes, and unique instrumentation to the best of their abilities. While the song is meant to sound like it was and could be performed live, the various studio edits make it nigh impossible to recreate the computer corrections and additions in a live performance. Being able to download or buy an album or song off of the internet or through iTunes extends the aforementioned barrier between performer and audience to the point that I and many others end up buying countless songs by artists and bands who I don't even know what they look like.

                Studio Audio Art creates an even further barrier between the artist and the listener by basically eliminating the interaction one has with the creator. I will admit I don't know what a majority of the artists I listen to look like, and that is a product of high fidelity and studio audio art music. The isolation that the artist has from their listeners allows them to take more risks with how the music sounds, putting their faith in the chance that many will recognize their ability to create something unique, interesting, and that has never been heard before. Like high fidelity music, studio audio art not only limits but minimizes the listeners' capacity to participate in the creation of what they're hearing, and both are used widely for sales.

Crying at a Choir Concert

             From the time I was coherent, and probably before that, my mother and father have said bedtime prayers with me and my brother, the most prominent one in my memory being:

"May the Lord bless you and keep you,

May he make his face SHIIIIINE (insert splayed hands beside the face) upon you and be gracious to you,

May he lift his eyes toward you (at this point me, my dad, and my brother would unite foreheads)

And give you peace and joy.

[With a piece of pumpkin pie with whipped cream and hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows]"

               I'm assuming that my brother and/or I added that last part at some point during toddlerhood. We had this bedtime routine every night up until around the time we entered middle school and got lost in all of our respective activities. My senior year of high school, I was privileged to be a part of my school's Chamber choir (highest mixed ensemble, 64 members) and Varsity choir (touring show choir of 24 members). From the first informal concert I performed with my fellow Varsity members, I predicted the forming of strong bonds with the group throughout the year and the inevitable tears that would ensue at the May concert. My prediction came true, but for more reasons than I initially anticipated. It is a tradition at Manhattan High School that at the final concert of the year the director invites all alumni up to the stage to participate in the last song: The Lord Bless You And Keep You. The initial iconic relation I had to this song the first time I heard it during class was that the soft piano arpeggios and the euphonious/flowing melody sounded to me like a lullaby (the sign of the melody operating for the object of a lullaby). The interpretant that followed was a feeling of comfort and youth, and remembrance of a time when comfort was recurrently needed (infancy/toddlerhood). After singing through the song, I had a strong indexical relationship with the title, it being a sign that reminded me of the bedtime prayer my dad would say with me. Elaborating on that object, the title represented my nostalgia for childhood, and more specifically the tendency of children to adhere unconditionally to ideals and concepts that bring them comfort (at that time, it was my religion that was instilled in me by my parents). This effectively prompted me to wish I was a child again and forget all the doubts, questions, confrontations, discussions, and struggles I have gone through while maturing that made identifying with my religion (or a religion in general) much more difficult. Finally, the lyrics speak of the Lord watching over us and giving us peace. These words signify and represent guidance and protection--paired with the fact that I was about to graduate high school, the interpretant that was achieved was an understanding that my parents/teachers/directors were all in some way (directly expressing to me or not) wishing me well in my future life endeavors. All within the frame of being surrounded by my peers in the collective vulnerability that is singing (with all your heart and soul while sobbing), the overall outcome was a feeling of complete acceptance by those around me, gratitude for my opportunity to sing with them throughout my senior year, and paradoxical mourning for the 'eternity' of high school and Chamber choir experiences that had passed and emotional preparedness/excitement for the unforeseeable 'eternities' in store.

Identity Playlist

Over The Rainbow/ Simple Gifts by The Piano Guys

I chose this song because I have lived in Kansas since I was 5 years old (yes, make all the Dorothy and Toto jokes to your heart’s content) and also because the song Simple Gifts has resonated within me from the first time I heard it. Almost every time I listen to it I get chills. I identify with the lyrics as well: “tis the gift to be simple, tis the gift to be free, tis the gift to come down where you ought to be, and when we find ourselves in the place just right, twill be in the valley of love and delight.” I can’t speak for my brother, but throughout my life my father has indirectly instilled an appreciation for simplicity through the way he lives, the art he likes, and the music he listens to. I really adhere to the notion of beauty through simplicity and try to incorporate it into the way I live, the way I do things, and how I carry myself.

Green Garden by Laura Mvula

            The bells and hand claps in the beginning of this song indicates a childlike playfulness, and I know I have many childish tendencies that will most likely stay with me for a long time (I can already picture myself in my ROTC class swinging my legs because my feet don’t touch the floor). The lyrics speak towards a love of and appreciation for nature, which I have possessed for as long as I can remember. Another connection to this song is the friend who introduced me to it--she is probably the one person with whom I can connect on the most levels of emotion and depth of thought.

The Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel

I have four specific lyrics I’d like to address to explain why I chose this song other than for its acoustic sound and simple but effective harmonies:

1) The opening line “hello darkness, my old friend”

            I like the contradiction this line poses by having the personified word “darkness,” which is usually viewed in a negative light (haha), paired with the positive noun “friend.” In recent years, I have recognized the juxtaposition of positive and negative in an endless variety of situations. Charles Baudelaire put it much better than I when he said, “I can barely conceive of a type of beauty in which there is no Melancholy.”

2) “But my words like silent raindrops fell”

            Other than loving the imagery, I’m reminded of the phrase “people listen to respond, not to understand.” I feel that too often people are speaking to selectively deaf ears.

3) "And the people bowed and prayed to a neon God they made"

             This line speaks towards the prevalence of materialism and consumerism in society, traits that I recognize as inevitable but also wish they weren't as pervasive.

4) “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenement halls”

            To me, this line says that wisdom and insight don’t have to come from the Queen of England or the Dalai Lama. Our internal contexts give each of us a personal wisdom that would not be completely understood by anyone but could be at least acknowledged if it was only heard. Beautiful and profound epiphanies can come from the most mundane of activities or encounters.

After Hours by We Are Scientists

            I chose this song because 1) the first time I heard it, I probably played it between 5-10 times consecutively and I still get chills from it every once in a while and 2) the best way of describing the feeling I get from this song is the quote from Perks of Being a Wallflower: “and in that moment, I swear we were infinite.” Yes, the song is about getting drunk and going barhopping “after hours” which I cannot relate to, but I have been out late with friends after a performance or dance, and have been up at a friend’s house into the wee hours of the morning. In these situations, a certain feeling comes about when you’re just having fun or are in a deep conversation—it is a feeling of freedom from responsibilities and inhibitions and, like the song says, “as always at this hour, time means nothing.” Which makes me think of the phenomena of flow described in the book that I have had the pleasure of experiencing countless times, including while reading said book.