the world of music:
Readings in
Ethnomusicology
ISSN 0043-8774
1–3/2010
the world of music
Editor: Max Peter Baumann
• International Advisory Board:
Linda Barwick, associate professor, Sydney Conservatorium of Music, University of Sydney, Australia
Max Peter Baumann, professor of ethnomusicology, University of Würzburg
Martin Boiko, lecturer, Faculty of Education and Psychology, University of Latvia, and Latvian Academy of Culture
Rafael José de Menezes Bastos, professor, Department of Anthropology, Federal University of Santa Catarina,
Florianopolis, Brazil
Shubha Chaudhuri, director, Archives and Research Center for Ethnomusicology, New Delhi, India
Scheherazade Qassim Hassan, lecturer, Department of Ethnology and Comparative Sociology, University of Paris
X-Nanterre, Paris, France
Josep Martí, professor, Department of Musicology, Instituto Mila i Fontanals, C.S.I.C., Barcelona, Spain
Svanibor Pettan, professor, Music Academy, University of Ljubljana, Slovenia
Adelaida Reyes, professor of music, Jersey City State College, Jersey City, N.J., USA
Francis Saighoe, professor, Department of Music, University of Cape Coast, Cape Coast, Ghana
Yosihiko Tokumaru, professor emeritus, Department of Music, Ochanomizu University, Tokyo, Japan
Bonnie Wade, professor, Department of Music, University of California at Berkeley, Berkeley, CA, USA
Bell Yung, professor, Department of Music, University of Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh, PA, USA
Impressum:
• the world of music (3 vols. per year)
Editor: Max Peter Baumann
• E-mail: maxpeter.baumann@uni-wuerzburg.de
• Web Site: http://www.musikwissenschaft.uni-wuerzburg.de/mitarbeiter/
Subscription and advertising inquires to be sent to the publisher:
• VWB – Verlag für Wissenschaft und Bildung, Amand Aglaster
Urbanstr. 71 • D-10967 Berlin • Germany
Phone: +49-30-251 0415 • Fax: +49-30-251 1136
E-mail: info@vwb-verlag.com • Web Site: http://www.vwb-verlag.com
Copyright © 2011 VWB – Verlag für Wissenschaft und Bildung, Amand Aglaster, Berlin
All rights, including photomechanical reproduction, are reserved
ISSN 0043–8774 • ISBN 978-3–86135–826-8
The opinions expressed in this periodical do not necessarily represent the views of the members of the
advisory boards or of the institutions involved.
Cover Illustration: sample of previous covers of the journal
—the world of music—
Readings in Ethnomusicology
Max Peter Baumann
Editor
VWB – Verlag für Wissenschaft und Bildung
Berlin 2012
the world of music
Vol. 52, 2010 (1–3)
ISSN 0043-8774
INTERCULTURAL MUSIC STUDIES
17
Edited by
Max Peter Baumann
A Series of the Department of Ethnomusicology
Institute for Music Research
Julius-Maximilian University of Würzburg
ISSN 1435-5590
Max Peter Baumann (Ed.)
—the world of music—
Readings in Ethnomusicology
VWB – Verlag für Wissenschaft und Bildung
Berlin 2012
Intercultural Music Studies, vol. 17: Hardcover
ISBN 978-3-86135-648-6
Cover Title:
“Festival of Lights”,
Top of the Tempodrom, Anhalter Bahnhof, Berlin
(Photo: k-w-a / VWB)
the world of music, vol. 52, 2010 (1–3): Paperback
ISBN 978-3-86135-826-8
Publisher:
VWB – Verlag für Wissenschaft und Bildung
Amand Aglaster
P.O. Box 11 03 68 • 10833 Berlin • Germany
phone: +49-30-251 04 15 • fax: +49-30-251 11 36
info@vwb-verlag.com • www.vwb-verlag.com
Copyright:
© VWB – Verlag für Wissenschaft und Bildung, Berlin 2012
All rights, including electronic media and photomechanical reproductions,
are reserved.
CONTENTS
—the
world of music—
Readings in Ethnomusicology
Max Peter Baumann
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
9
1. Aspects of Music History: Archaeology, Iconography,
and Transcultural Interest
Arnd Adje Both
Aztec Music Culture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
14
Gerald Groemer
The Rise of “Japanese Music” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
29
Bonnie C. Wade
Performing the Drone in Hindustani Classical Music:
What Mughal Paintings Show Us to Hear . . . . . . . . .
54
The Interest of Westerners in Non-Western Music . .
69
Bruno Deschênes
2. Musical Instruments: Between Re-contextualization, Imagination,
and Modernity
Karl Neuenfeldt
Toru Seyama
Paula Conlon
Good Vibrations? The “Curious” Cases of the
Didjeridu in Spectacle and Therapy in Australia . . .
82
The Re-contextualization of the Shakuhachi
(Syakuhati) and its Music from Traditional/Classical
into Modern/Popular . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
104
The Native American Flute: Convergence and
Collaboration as Exempliied by R. Carlos Nakai . .
118
6 • the world of music—Readings in Ethnomusicology
3. Musical Instruments: Beyond the Local and the Global
Rainer Polak
Thomas Turino
Linda Fujie
A Musical Instrument Travels Around the World:
Jenbe Playing in Bamako, West Africa, and Beyond
134
The Mbira, Worldbeat, and the International
Imagination . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
171
Japanese Taiko Drumming in International
Performance: Converging Musical Ideas in the
Search for Success on Stage . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
193
4. Sounding Voices: Identity, Spirituality, and Cultural Inheritance
Gregory Barz
Laura Leante
Dan Bendrups
Soundscapes of Disaffection and Spirituality in
Tanzanian Kwaya Music . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
204
Shaping Diasporic Sounds: Identity as Meaning
in Bhangra . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
229
Easter Island Music and the Voice of Kiko Pate:
A Biographical History of Sound Recording . . . . . .
253
5. Inventing Traditions: Revival, Music Festivals, and Transculturalization
Timothy J. Cooley
Max Peter Baumann
Owe Ronström
Folk Festivals as Modern Ritual in the Polish Tatra
Mountains . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
270
Festivals, Musical Actors, and Mental Constructs
in the Process of Globalization . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
294
Revival Reconsidered . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
314
6. Music, Gender, and the Individual
Jonathan P. J. Stock
Toward an Ethnomusicology of the Individual, or
Biographical Writing in Ethnomusicology . . . . . . . .
332
Contents • 7
Regula Burckhardt
Qureshi
In Search of Begum Akthar: Patriarchy, Poetry,
and Twentieth-century Music . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
347
Beverley Diamond
Native American Contemporary Music: The Women
387
7. Ritual and Drama: Observation, Interpretation, and Reconstruction
Regine
Allgayer-Kaufmann
From the Innocent to the Exploring Eye:
Transcription on the Defensive . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
416
Martina
Claus-Bachmann
Kuveni, or the Curse of a Women as a Flashpoint
for Music-oriented (Re-)Constructions . . . . . . . . . . .
432
Tiago de Oliveira
Pinto
Healing Process as Musical Drama: The Ebó
Ceremony in the Bahian Candomblé of Brazil . . . . .
453
8. Meaning, Style, Genre, and Change
Margaret Kartomi
Meaning, Style, and Change in Gamalan and
Wayang Kulit Banjar Since Their Transplantation
from Hindu-Buddhist Java to South Kalimantan . . . . . 476
Sonjah Stanley Niaah A Common Space: Dancehall, Kwaito, and the
Mapping of New World Music and Performance . . .
Sydney Hutchinson
Becoming the Tíguera: The Female Accordionist in
Dominican Merengue Típico . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
515
531
9. Listening, Hearing, and Understanding
Jean During
Hearing and Understanding in the Islamic Gnosis . .
552
Carl Gombrich
Expressions of Inexpressible Truths: Attempts at
Descriptions of Mystical and Musical Experiences .
563
Cognitive and Interpersonal Dimensions of
Listening in Javanese Gamelan Performance . . . . . .
580
Ben Brinner
8 • the world of music—Readings in Ethnomusicology
Christian Utz
Listening Attentatively to Cultural Fragmentation:
Tradition and Composition in Works by East Asian
Composers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
596
10. Music, Politics, Ecology, and Democracy
Svanibor Pettan
Chan E. Park
Nathan Hesselink
Jeff Todd Titon
Gypsies, Music, and Politics in the Balkans: A Case
Study from Kosovo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
628
Poetics and Politics of Korean Oral Tradition in a
Cross-cultural Context . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
658
Taking Culture Seriously: Democratic Music and
Its Transformative Potential in South Korea . . . . . . .
670
Music and Sustainability: An Ecological Viewpoint
702
11. Appendix
Acknowledgements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
722
About the Authors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
724
Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
732
The Rise of “Japanese Music”
Gerald Groemer
What is “Japanese music” (Nihon ongaku or hōgaku)?1 Ask a Tokyo teenager and
the likely response will be that it is simply a Japanese-language pop song in a thoroughly Western style. Ask a bureaucrat at the Education Ministry or a local shamisen
teacher and the answer is bound to be very different: typically any of a number of
traditional genres that many younger Japanese hardly acknowledge as music of any
sort, much less music that they should cherish and proudly hail as their own. Whether one sides with universalists who hold that all music heard in Japan is ipso facto
Japanese, or with radical relativists who argue that Japanese concepts of sonic material are so different from “music” in the West that to apply the same term to both is
utterly misguided, musical culture in Japan is a many-splendored thing with only the
most ragged of borders.2
Yet books with the words “Japanese Music” in the title are found in every Japanese library. Radio and television stations broadcast “Japanese music” for anyone
who wishes to tune in. Colleges and universities offer courses on “Japanese music”
in which students listen to erudite or confused lectures concerning the essence of the
tradition. Scholars and journalists have argued for decades about the exact nature of
the difference between “Japanese music” and “Western music,” and governmentfunded institutions continue to send performers abroad to introduce “Japanese music” to the uninitiated. Debate rages over how much “Japanese music” ought to be
incorporated into the school curriculum and composers are often implored to write
music that is quintessentially Japanese in nature. From such evidence one must thus
assume that the meaning of the term “Japanese music” is accepted as obvious to
most who use or hear the words.
Yet “Japanese music” is only rarely understood to mean simply whatever music happens to exist in Japan at the moment or in the past. Instead, “Japanese music” parallels the notion of a “national language” (kokugo), which is always both a
cognitive and normative designation. Kokugo does not merely represent the sum of
all utterances spoken or recorded at present or in the past, but constitutes a careful
selection of linguistic reality codiied and legitimized for certain purposes. “Japa-
30 • Aspects of Music History: Archaeology, Iconography, …
nese music,” too, is not simply “there,” waiting patiently to be discovered like some
kind of fossil or ancient scroll; yet neither is it merely a free-loating “construct,”
subjectively deined with no basis in social reality. Instead, it has resulted from an
interaction of material factors (including irreducibly musical ones) and political and
ideological forces (including aesthetic ideologies), all of which are thoroughly historical in nature. Any adequate description of “Japanese music” therefore requires an
inquiry into the history or genealogy of the term, in order to discover how and why
it arose and what it has meant and continues to mean to those who use it.
A reasonably complete discussion of this issue would set out from the ancient
past, for even in the earliest times the musics devised and performed on the islands
that today make up Japan were by no means homogenous. In the pages that follow,
however, I shall engage in a more humble task, reaching back no further than the
Edo period (1603–1868), for it was during this time that most genres now considered
representative of “Japanese music” were either created or, in the case of styles with
prior origins, signiicantly reworked to become what they are today. After briely
analyzing the situation during this age, I shall turn the discussion to some of the major forces that shaped the notion of “Japanese music” from the Meiji period (1868–
1912) to the postwar era. Non-Japanese writers have also contributed their share to
the debate over “Japanese music,” but I shall focus below on what has taken place
within Japan itself.
1. Cultural Politics and Social Reality During the Edo Period
In hindsight the Edo period seems to have been something of a golden age of “Japanese music,” but hardly anybody spoke of “Japanese music” at the time. This was in
large measure a result of the social fragmentation of the Edo-period musical scene.
Yet as the cultural markeplace developed from the seventeenth century onward, the
possibility of a coherent notion of “Japanese music” became increasingly real. To
understand the forces that fostered this development we must turn irst to the beginning of the period and analyze both the divisions that split the Edo-period musical
world into distinct, if often overlapping, sectors, as well as the economic and social
forces that were emptying these cultural divisions of content.
In 1603, after many decades of civil war, Tokugawa Ieyasu and his liegemen established a military government (bakufu) in the city of Edo. By demanding absolute
fealty from several hundred daimyō enfeoffed throughout the land, Ieyasu laid the
foundations of a state-sanctioned social pyramid that was irmly cemented in place
by succeeding shōgun and their administrations. The oficial ladder of social rank
and status led downward from the warrior class—the many grades of samurai who
were placed in charge of government administration—to the rich and poor peasantry,
artisans, merchants, and inally to outcasts. Policies backed by a blend of Confucian and Buddhist tenets and institutions decreed that women stood below men,
young below old, and children below parents. The ideal society was conceived as
G. Groemer. The Rise of “Japanese Music” • 31
one in which all behaved and thought “appropriately” according to social status. A
primer on propriety published in 1726 summed it up as follows: “pines should be
pines, bamboo bamboo, warriors warriors, priests priests, townspeople townspeople,
peasants peasants” (Minka bunryō-ki, 1977:678–79). The natural order dictated by
heaven moved smoothly into the human one codiied by law and backed by state
force. Most members of the ruling class considered this oficial hierarchy, which in
fact never comfortably subsumed classes such as the aristocracy or priesthood, as
something of a timeless universal and did what they could to ensure that it would
last for ten-thousand years.
When Edo-period Japanese philosophers spoke of music, they too usually exhibited a taste for everlasting norms and static principles. Ogyū Sorai (1666–1728),
for example, hypothesized a perfect ancient Chinese music (to him even Japanese
gagaku had strayed far from this ideal) that could serve as a yardstick for measuring the music of his day. Sorai found song accompanied by koto and shamisen
wanting because it lacked true agreement between melody and accompaniment.
Then, in a move quite atypical of his generation, he placed such music above nō
chanting, which he considered to be deicient in melody. His student Dazai Shundai
(1680–1747) offered a slightly different theory of musical value, inspired perhaps by
the fact that music practiced at the Kyoto court, at Buddhist temples, and by Sinophile literati tended to be softer, deeper in pitch, slower, and less ornamented than
the genres favored by lower strata in the social hierarchy.3 Throughout his writings
Dazai expressed revulsion for music that was high-pitched, ornamented, rhythmically varied, or outitted with elaborate accompaniment.
The majority of Edo-period policymakers and scholars avoided discussing purely musical—i. e., acoustic, formal, or stylistic—attributes of music. Instead, they
preferred to condemn or praise a musical genre’s imputed moral or social value: in
short, its political effect. Their ultimate ideal, put simply, was for all individuals to
engage in morally sound cultural pursuits “proper” to their oficially acknowledged
rank and station in society. Though usually conceived in universal and ahistorical
terms, speciic criteria for what was “proper” varied depending on whether one was
a man or woman, a warrior or commoner, of urban or rural background. Such social
criteria intersected with concepts of “elegance” (jōhin or ga) or vulgarity (gehin
or zoku) developed chiely from classical Chinese ideals by Edo-period poets and
painters.4 Ga, for example, was a “high class” ideal, closely associated with the
arts of the aristocracy and with upper-class literati. To many Edo-period critics it
was best embodied in musical culture imported from China, represented by gagaku
and later by the Chinese-style zither (qin). Zoku, on the other hand, though grudgingly deemed appropriate for the lower classes, was at best material to be reworked
into something properly artistic. Zokugaku (“vulgar” or “popular” music), which
according to Dazai’s minority opinion even included nō, was thus not intended as a
value-free classiicatory term, but as a concept with clear social, moral, and political
connotations. Similarly, music might be branded “crudely rustic” (hiri or any number of other epithets) and thus inappropriate for the urbanite if not the peasant; or
32 • Aspects of Music History: Archaeology, Iconography, …
it was disparaged as obscene (insei) and thus unit for women of honor, if causing
little harm when sung by professional entertainers in the pleasure quarters. Countless
similar categories attempted to link music to the “proper” social position of those
who played, sung, or heard it.
If the Pax Tokugawa gave birth to ideals that fragmented the musical world along
social lines, it simultaneously engendered forces rendering it increasingly dificult
to enforce and sustain a divided musical culture in which everything was “properly”
apportioned and in which economic status was solidly locked to political power
and cultural hegemony. After the end of the combat and slaughter that had plagued
the sixteenth century, markets emerged in places where they had never existed before. Transport, travel, and tourism boomed, cities went up seemingly overnight, and
large-scale theaters and pleasure quarters could barely keep up with the demand of a
growing middle class. By the late seventeenth century, economic development was
spelling social and demographic upheaval: some peasants rocketed to positions of
wealth far above their would-be superiors of the warrior-class; others absconded to
become day laborers or street performers in the capital. Large merchants houses, including some headed by women, amassed assets and cultural competencies that put
to shame most aristocrats. Even outcasts might succeed in becoming the servants—
or, it was whispered, lovers—of the social elite. The proliferation of opportunities
and the acceleration of emigration from the countryside to the city by ruined peasants and others who might take to strumming the shamisen on the street meant that
people and musics of all sorts now interacted at places and in manners that conservatives could only see as unbearably promiscuous. Moreover, aesthetic concepts and
standards that had once been supported chiely by the aristocracy and the Buddhist
clergy were being diffused to sectors of the populace that had in the past paid no
attention to such matters. If the dominant ideology required strict categories to be
maintained for the sake of the political order, economic factors and demographic
reality were causing cultural divisions to become increasingly luid, especially in the
cities. “Japanese music” though not yet identiied as such, was in fact practiced by a
large sector of the populace.
1.1
The Social Class Divide
The rapid commercialization and commodiication of much Edo-period culture
meant that class distinctions in the realm of the musical world were dificult to maintain. For an appropriate fee nearly anyone could learn everything from gagaku to
popular songs, taught by local musicians licensed by various monopolistic “household head” (iemoto) systems.5
The situation of the nō drama provides a good example. Nō boasted an ancient
history; its Buddhist-inspired aesthetics were supported by arcane, secret theoretical
treatises dating from the medieval era. Thanks to its slow-paced chant, its archaic
language, and stylized movements, nō personiied the dignity, gravity, and stoic de-
G. Groemer. The Rise of “Japanese Music” • 33
meanor that the warrior was expected to prize above all else. Institutional support for
the nō came from no less than the bakufu itself, which granted generous stipends to a
retinue of nō musicians and actors, a practice eagerly emulated by daimyō throughout the land. In order to ensure the cultural hegemony of the ruling class, laws were
promulgated disallowing non-samurai from building the stages or procuring the
luxurious costumes and props that a full-ledged nō performance required. To drive
home the point that nō was the essence of warrior culture, the bakufu sponsored sporadic public performances on the Edo castle grounds and permitted each major nō
troupe to stage one grand beneit performance during the lifetime of the troupe head.
Such object lessons in cultural law and order showed the townspeople what grandeur
and brilliance they were normally missing.
This ideal was soon challenged on several fronts. By the seventeenth century,
wealthy peasants and merchants, especially those living in the Kyoto-Osaka area,
had turned the chanting of classic nō texts into something of a fad. “It is said that
recently everyone, high and low, chants nō” claims one document recording events
of the irst two decades of the Edo period (Keichō kenbunshū, p. 534). “Some chant
Kyoto-based styles; others chant Nara-based styles; all do as they please,” it continues, suggesting that as a symbol of warrior superiority the nō also proved attractive
to those who sought good breeding and upward mobility. Thanks to commoner patronage, the market for nō-chanting lessons burgeoned, funneling much needed cash
into the pockets of penurious masterless samurai teachers who had learned to chant
when times were good. The commercial value of nō was even exploited by itinerant
troupes of “street nō” performers, who catered to the desire of commoners everywhere to familiarize themselves with properly scaled-down versions of an old and
noble art. In addition, townspeople also furtively staged performances when they
thought they could get away with it (Groemer 1998).
If nō whetted the musical appetites of the commoner, plebeian music equally
fascinated the upper class. From the earliest years of the Edo period even the highest stratum of the warrior nobility routinely invited “low class” actors and musicians
to their palatial residences for private performances. The warrior’s craving for delectable commoner culture did not wane in later years.6 Such trends could only irritate straight-laced philosophers and lawmakers who continued to advocate ascetic
samurai ideals. Already the high-placed Confucianist Arai Hakuseki had objected
that during the time of shōgun Iemitsu (r. 1623–51) elite customs had trickled down
to the lower classes, but “in later years, upper class culture was lost and the ways
of the low classes gradually rose to the top” (reported by Muro Kyūsō in Kenzan
hisaku, p. 263). During Hakuseki’s day such sentiments were still somewhat unusual, but not long thereafter they were to become something of a cliché. Moriyama
Takamori (1738–1815) wrote of the 1780s that “samurai are becoming labbier by
the day” and that “at night young people assemble to perform the rhythms heard in
the kabuki, which are now imitated everywhere; even distinguished personages often gather to perform theatricals in the kabuki manner” (Ama no takumo no ki, pp.
214, 213). A few decades later, in 1816, the chronically dyspeptic Buyō Inshi whined
34 • Aspects of Music History: Archaeology, Iconography, …
that “in general, the low classes ought to imitate the culture (fūzoku) of the high, but
nowadays the culture of the low is spreading to the high” (Seji kenbunroku, p. 737).
At nearly the same time, the daimyō Matsura Seizan observed that “in recent years
elegant (fūga) pastimes seem to have diminished, and only vulgar and rural ways are
prized” (Kasshi yawa, zoku-hen 2:255). Such words were not just the complaints of
a few disaffected grumblers, though they were that as well, but rather astute, if perhaps unwitting, observations that Edo-period culture was in practice not as stratiied
as it was in theory.
Repeatedly issued edicts countered the perceived “softening” of the warrior and
attempted to turn him into the noble Spartan he had supposedly been in some mythical past. In 1701/2, for instance, the Niwase domain (Okayama prefecture) told
samurai living in front-street apartment houses to “practice nō chant and instrumental accompaniment with propriety,” but to shun lowly shamisen or shakuhachi
music (Okayama-ken shi, 26:676). Similarly, in 1759 the Fukui domain ordered that
“nō chanting may be practiced in front-street warrior houses, but short songs (kouta), jōruri, koto, shamisen, tsuzumi, and taiko should not be played” (Fukui-shi shi,
shiryō-hen 6:469). In far away Kyūshū the Sadohara domain (Miyazaki prefecture)
dictated in 1792/8 that warrior-class performances of jōruri, shamisen, and kyōgen
(i. e. kabuki) were strictly forbidden, suggesting once again that this practice was
suficiently common to warrant prohibition (Miyazaki-ken shi, shiryō-hen, kinsei
6:225). Evidently even those who stood to gain the most by defending the status
quo were no longer content with the musical territory that was oficially regarded as
“appropriate.”
1.2
The Gender Divide
In 1678 one critic groused that “jōruri is a lowly art; even though it is hummed by
amateurs, it ought not be recited by people of breeding” (Shikidō ōkagami, p. 399).
Dazai found it “smacking of the vulgar, the backwoods, and the obscene” (Dokugo,
p. 276). As late as 1791/1, when it was already a lost cause, oficials in Hiroshima
issued a ban on jōruri, shamisen, and pieces with double love-suicide plots, because
such music was likely to injure the tender hearts of young women (Hiroshima-ken
shi, kinsei shiryō-hen, 3:1073). For men to fall victim to senseless passions was bad
enough; but for civic women, designated as the pillars of domestic morality, the
popularity of jōruri and other “immoral” genres of music was truly a crisis.
The gender divide intersected with the class divide in complicated ways: a warrior-class woman was expected not only to maintain different cultural standards
from her spouse, but also from her merchant or peasant-class counterparts. Morality
and justice, as well, were not conceived as universal, but as differential, with varying
standards applied to men and women, samurai and townspeople, priests and laymen.
“Proper” music thus needed to be deined according to simultaneous and often conlicting criteria. In many cases, women were wholly barred from musical activities,
G. Groemer. The Rise of “Japanese Music” • 35
particularly if these were pursued for inancial gain. Women could not join the nō
troupes supported by the bakufu and daimyō or enter the ranks of the warrior-class
shakuhachi-playing Buddhist monks known as komusō. After the early seventeenth
century, women were forbidden to tread the boards of the oficially licensed kabuki
theaters in major urban centers. Shinto might require young women for certain sacred dances, but the obsession with “pollution” meant that women were often shut
out from much of the musical activity surrounding shrine rites and village festivals.
Upper-class women were, however, expected to demonstrate a carefully gauged
familiarity with music, not just because appropriate pleasure was their birthright, but
because music functioned as a symbol of ample leisure time and reined taste. Since
nō chanting was dominated by men, women commonly turned to chamber music
instruments such as the koto, shamisen, and kokyū. The Mito domain (Ibaraki prefecture), for example, prohibited samurai-class men from playing the koto or shamisen,
but women and the blind were allowed to do so (after 1784/12/26 the ban was extended to blind men as well) (Mito kinen, p. 573). Gender was also central in an 1827
law from the Naegi domain (Gifu prefecture). It stated that “a general knowledge of
the koto and shamisen is beneicial for women and they may do as they like,” but
men of low rank were counseled not to let their enthusiasm get out of hand (Gifu-ken
shi, shiryō-hen, 2:384).
Urgent exhortations seeking to keep the shamisen and jōruri out of reach of
commoner women fell mostly on deaf ears. Already in the late 1730s Edo essayists
remarked that “amateur” women were exhibiting their skills at jōruri and shamisen
at teahouses for samurai oficials (rusui-jaya), “just like [male?] geisha” (Tōsei buya
zoku dan, p. 138). By the 1780s Moriyama Takamori could complain that “female
geisha are now highly faddish. Both in the downtown and uptown areas every girl
that is even slightly pretty becomes a geisha. They learn a little bit of shamisen,
rarely koto; this then becomes a source of lewd pleasure” (Ama no takumo no ki,
p. 213). First in the city and then in the provinces, countless commoner women discovered that they could utilize their musical talents for earning a living. Good musical training allowed a young woman to ind better employment in warrior households, an occupation that was also said to lead to the acquisition of a high-quality
spouse (Morisada mankō, 3:256 [fascicle 23]; Kasshi yawa, zoku-hen, 4:50). After
marriage, women often supplemented their family’s income by teaching music to
local students (teaching men was generally proscribed, but to little effect). For the
visually disabled woman, an ability to play the koto or shamisen spelled one of the
very few alternatives available to being supported by relatives, or a life of poverty
as a masseuse. Especially after the mid-eighteenth century, female musicians (geisha or geiko) often worked in the pleasure quarters. Kitagawa Morisada noted that
“geisha in the Yoshiwara licensed quarters [in Edo] never engage in prostitution”
(Morisada mankō, 3:166–67, [fascicle 21]) and in 1872 there were 171 female geisha employed in Yoshiwara (Tōkyō-shi shi kō, shigai-hen 53:522).7 In other areas
of the city distinctions were more luid, and it was not uncommon for women to be
sold into sexual slavery under the pretense that they were to work as geisha (see Ishii
36 • Aspects of Music History: Archaeology, Iconography, …
1995:318–31). Then as now, good looks helped to jump start a musical career, but
the high level of musical ability required for competent jōruri recitation could trump
physical appearance. Kitagawa points out that “some geiko are beauties, but homely
ones who cannot become regular geiko are turned into jōruri-geiko.” Edo geiko also
served as shamisen teachers; conversely shamisen teachers might be called to play at
parties (Morisada mankō, 3:156 [fascicle 21]). By the end of the Edo period, musically deined gender barriers were being challenged on nearly all fronts.
1.3
The Disability Divide
In traditional Japan the care of the disabled was largely left to family members and
the immediate community. One important exception was the visually impaired individual: men might join the bakufu-sanctioned guild of the blind (tōdō-za), while
women often became members of smaller local groups sometimes backed by the
lord of the domain. The tōdō-za had specialized in reciting the “Tale of the Heike” to
biwa accompaniment since the medieval period. It sustained a de facto monopoly on
the biwa music that was considered “appropriate” for visually impaired men (Groemer 2001).
From the seventeenth century, however, the popularity of Heike biwa lagged;
guild members increasingly looked to the koto and even the shamisen as a source
of income. Although the tōdō-za stressed that learning to play the koto was a quasireligious “Way” leading to enlightenment (in this regard the guild resembled the
association of komusō), koto pieces were regularly performed for audiences that
appreciated such efforts as music rather than as a form of sacred practice. Just as
amateurs of all sorts yearned to study the shakuhachi pieces of the komusō, sighted
townspeople and even farmers paid to learn the koto pieces created and transmitted
by guild members or by female blind musicians. Todō-za music spilled out into the
marketplace, gradually becoming the shared cultural property of a large portion of
the Japanese populace. Yet despite its popularity, koto music was able to retain much
of the dignity that most shamisen music had lost. This was probably because the koto
continued to be associated with the high rank, wealth, and respect accorded to guild
members. Moreover, the song texts accompanied on koto were usually so poetic and
abstract that they were unlikely to be deemed “immoral.” Even the drafters of the
above-mentioned 1791 Hiroshima law considered koto music “highly elegant” and
“causing no harm.” In the same vein, a primer on peasant morality published in 1737
comments that “the koto is an acceptable instrument even if it may lead to luxury
among commoners; nevertheless, it should not be mentioned alongside the shamisen
and jōruri, which are the height of lasciviousness” (Minka dōmō-kai, p. 744). In
1761 another essay noted that the koto was originally used in gagaku and continued
to preserve hints of that noble association (Suifu chiri onko-roku, p. 122).
G. Groemer. The Rise of “Japanese Music” • 37
1.4
The City/Country Divide: Frugality, “Folk Music”, and the Peasant
While music was moving between low and high, men and women, the blind and the
sighted, it was also diffusing from the city to the countryside. Popular urban songs
spread so rapidly that in 1756 one traveler was surprized to ind not a new tune, but a
traditional tune, in use at the bon festival in a remote mountain village in what is now
Nagano prefecture (Suwa ka no ko, p. 37). But since the ruling elite thrived chiely
on tribute and tax exacted from rural inhabitants, the peasant’s insatiable taste for
musical activities was often viewed as baneful. Time dedicated to music lessons
meant less time spent tilling the soil and weaving straw mats; peasant women who
played the shamisen were likely to “neglect their sewing and the like” (Hanpō-shū,
7:929). Worse yet, money wasted on sponsoring an urban musician to perform at
weddings or other gala occasions was revenue that did not ind its way into the lord’s
coffers. As spelled out in an undated law (probably late Edo period) from what is
now Ōta city in Gunma prefecture, it ill beit the peasant to learn or perform jōruri,
nagauta, and popular songs. Only “at planting season and the like, short songs appropriate for the farmer may be sung”—presumably while working (Ōta-shi shi,
shiryō-hen, kinsei 1:161). In Gifu prefecture, too, young people sent into the employ
of the wealthy, were reminded in 1822 that “short popular songs (kouta), jōruri, or
imitations of kabuki are prohibited; only nō chanting, planting songs, or grinding
songs may be sung” (Mizunami-shi shi, shiryō-hen, p. 163).
The Tokugawa bakufu spent much time fretting over how to stem the tide of cultural commercialization sweeping the countryside, and the inlux of urban theater
troupes and musicians to even the remotest regions. By the middle of the Edo period,
some regional authorities recognized that a lourishing theater drew people from far
and near and thus contributed to the local economy. Yet the bakufu tended to look
askance at attempts to inject new performing arts into the countryside. According to
an edict of June 1799, lavish music and theater were being staged at agrarian festivals allegedly dedicated to driving out insects. This was considered a luxury “leading
to an increase of wasteland and poverty and, in the end, to desertions.” The regime
thus banned “professionals engaging in such occupations, “corrupt merchants” (i. e.,
producers), and “beggarly types” (i. e., actors and musicians) from entering rural villages. In addition “all leisure pursuits” were proscribed as well (Tokugawa kinrei-kō,
zenshū, 5:188). Similar laws were also dutifully parroted at the domanial and local
level. In the Iwamura domain (Gifu prefecture), playing the shamisen was banned
because it was “inappropriate” and led peasants “to forget their duties” (Gifu-ken
shi, shiryō-hen, 2:506). In the Uwajima domain (Ehime prefecture), at a time when
reform fever was at a peak, an even more Draconian edict stated that peasant musical activities were “inappropriate and naturally lead to laziness in production and the
emergence of unemployed idlers.” Farmers, male and female, were “not to engage in
any musical activities whatsoever.” Moreover, non-professional musicians were not
to be summoned to perform under any conditions (Ehime-ken shi, shiryō-hen, kinsei,
ge, p. 572 [1 March 1843]).
38 • Aspects of Music History: Archaeology, Iconography, …
Yet, in the end, to no avail. Peasants, sometimes with the tacit approval of their
immediate superiors, outwitted high-placed oficials at every turn and continued to
learn and perform music of all sorts. Those who were caught red-handed might offer a perfunctory apology such as the following one, drafted by a group of rogues in
what is today Saitama prefecture (Sayama-shi shi, 2:332–33):
Our group agreed to procure shamisen so that we might entertain ourselves on our
days off. We did not understand that this was a luxury inappropriate for those of peasant status and that it would become an obstacle to our farming. We have been told that
this activity is improper and can offer no excuse. Henceforth we shall strictly discontinue this activity. We admit that it was an error. Afirmed by:
Shinzō [and 28 others]
Bunsei 6 [1823], year of the ram
Despite such displays of feigned remorse, the market would ensure that “inappropriate” music would continue to iniltrate all levels of peasant society.
2. “Japanese Music” after Edo
Conditions during the Edo period suggest that if any uniied notion of “Japanese
music” stood at odds with the dominant political ideologies of “propriety” and social division, a broadly understood and supported “Japanese music” was becoming
a possibility in social reality. As long as the economic and political structures of the
bakufu-ief system remained in place, however, the commercialization of musical
activity and the cultural development that it spawned could not develop unchecked.
By the late Edo period, the contradiction between social reality and hegemonic values had become highly apparent, but it would take outside pressure to resolve this
incongruity once and for all.
This pressure arrived in unambiguous form in 1853, when Commodore Perry
and his “black ships” steamed into Uraga Bay and delivered a letter from President
Millard Fillmore demanding the bakufu to open its harbors to American ships. Fillmore was not particularly interested in culture—his own greatest cultural achievement seems to have been the installation of the irst White House bathtub—but the
Americans, together with the Europeans who arrived shortly thereafter, soon altered
the Japanese musical landscape beyond recognition. A proper discussion of this
complex transformation would require a differentiation between the early and late
Meiji periods, and prewar and postwar Japan, but in the pages below I shall dodge
these issues in order to emphasize the continuity of development.
2.1
Reorganizing Socio-musical Reality
In 1867 the bakufu collapsed and a new government centering on the emperor was
charged with transforming the Japanese past into a future. The irst order of business
was to rescind the special privileges accorded to various sectors of feudal society.
G. Groemer. The Rise of “Japanese Music” • 39
Many of the new policies further eroded habits, traditions, and institutions that had
partitioned the Edo-period musical scene into fragmented and mutually exclusive
“worlds.” In 1871/8 the Fuke sect of Buddhism was dissolved, thereby depriving the
komusō of their right to roam the land in unique garb, soliciting donations through
shakuhachi performances. Komusō now had to limit their pursuits to selling their
skills as teachers and performers, activities that were in fact hardly new to them.
On 1871/10/20 street performers in Tokyo were liberated from the rule of their boss
Nidayū, who had been an important member of the outcast hierarchy (Shiryō-shū:
Meiji shoki hisabetsu buraku, p. 280). Two weeks later, on 10/3, the guild of the
blind was dissolved, thereby stripping the visually disabled of their rights over much
of the biwa, koto, and shamisen repertory (Sabetsu no shosō, pp. 230–31; Tōkyō-shi
shi kō, shigai-hen 52:586–620). In 1872/3 even nō actors, whose status under the old
regime had always been highly ambiguous, were ordered to be registered as commoners. They too were now largely dependent on the whims of the musical marketplace (Tōkyō-shi shi kō, shigai-hen 51:870).
Local and regional governments soon mandated new forms of licensing and control over performers. On 1875/1/1 the Tokyo city assembly resolved to levy a tax on
musicians, actors, theaters, and tea houses (which served as venues for music and
dance). Performers were categorized and graded according to income, and taxed accordingly (Meiji no engei, 1:38–40). Since collecting monthly taxes directly from the
thousands of performers active throughout the city proved impractical, the government decreed a new hierarchy that largely disregarded traditional divides. Initially
Nakamura Kanzaburō and Morita Kan’ya, owners of the two largest kabuki theaters
in town, were designated as tax collectors. But variety hall performers and others
objected, since such an arrangement implied that everyone was now under the rule
of the kabuki theaters. As a result, heads (tōdori) were designated for each art. Nakamura and Morita were still responsible for the theaters, but they shared their position
with four heads of various styles of jōruri, ive heads for nagauta, two for gidayū
puppeteers and shamisen, seven for “battle tales” and two for “tales of the past”
(mukashi-banashi, in fact probably comic tales now known as rakugo) (cited in Ogi
1979:356). In addition, aides (sewanin) were appointed for collecting money from
those who performed or taught nō, kyōgen, koto (including 1, 3, 7, and 13-string varieties), biwa, Qing-dynasty Chinese-style music (shingaku), shakuhachi, utazawa,
kouta, dancers, choreographers, and other styles (Sho-geinin-mei roku, p. 300). The
1875 legislation was revised in March of 1876, but from this time on, all law-abiding
professional musicians in Tokyo found themselves registered, controlled, and taxed
according to stipulations that covered high and low, men and women, blind and
sighted, rural and urban (Tōkyō-shi shi kō, shigai-hen 58:291–95).
In fact, the new Tokyo law went far beyond taxation and registration. Article 5,
for example, directed the heads of respective genres not to delay in accepting petitions from neophytes, signaling a de facto denial of the traditional rights of teachers
and bosses to exclude anyone they wished to reject. At least in theory, the market
was now open to anyone who desired to participate, though informal pressures re-
40 • Aspects of Music History: Archaeology, Iconography, …
mained strong. Nevertheless, individuals who only a few years earlier would have
thought of themselves as radically incompatible—say bakufu-appointed nō chanters
and itinerant shamisen players—were now lumped together in the single administrative category of “performer.” With such directives the Tokyo city government took
the irst step toward forging a broadly based capitalist market for musical activities.
This marketplace, of course, was no longer the radical force that it had been during
the Edo period. Instead, the commodiication of music was now part and parcel of
the dominant mode of production and in turn the status quo.
2.2
Western Music and the Problem of Syncretism
After an almost 300-year hiatus, music imported from Europe and the United
States—ife and drum corps, Christian hymns, popular ditties, and the like—gradually commandeered a growing portion of Japanese cultural space. Popular acceptance of Western music would take time, but foreign-style tunes more than compensated for their initial lack of familiarity with their image of “modernity” and
fashionableness. The inlux of capital from overseas and the investments of savvy
Japanese entrepreneurs meant that by the early decades of the twentieth century the
nation was experiencing no shortage of Western-inspired music. In turn, all earlier
music increasingly seemed to have had something in common. A more or less homogeneously conceived tradition of “Japanese music” could now be contrasted to what
was bursting in from abroad.
The problem, one shared by nearly every country that has been subject to sudden
violent cultural contact with the outside, was how to handle culturally what had been
dictated politically and militarily. For better or worse, the Meiji regime and many intellectuals of the day generally saw the arrival of Western music as a positive cultural
force. Westernization was soon embodied in a wide-ranging program, in which the
public, in particular the elementary school student, was inculcated with “modern”
values. Most traditional musical genres were not well suited for this purpose: gagaku
and Buddhist chant were far too distant from the populace to be accepted quickly
and with enthusiasm; nō was too closely associated with the discredited bakufu;
shamisen music remained tainted with the sultry atmosphere of the brothel districts
and could not be proudly displayed to the outside world; folk songs, with their heterogeneous styles, frankly sexual themes, and abundant regional dialects, proved all
but useless when it came to preaching morals and national identity.
Meiji legislators no doubt sensed that banning such music would be hopeless and
counterproductive. Instead of attempting some sort of ill-conceived cultural revolution, the regime set about reshaping social and cultural institutions to allow what was
believed to be good (or at least not injurious) in the old to merge with the best of the
new. The ideal music, to many government oficials and musicians, was to be more
accessible than gagaku but not as vulgar as zokugaku (see Komiya 1956:365–70,
459–90; Malm 1976; Howe 1997). It would, as Isawa Shūji’s “Plan Regarding Mu-
G. Groemer. The Rise of “Japanese Music” • 41
sic Investigation” speciies, be compiled and composed by “taking the best out of
both European and oriental music” (cited in Eppstein 1994:52).
The conditions for creating a successful synthesis could hardly have been less
propitious. In Europe the Meiji era corresponded roughly to the age running from
Tristan to Le Sacre, a time when the fundamental premises that had served as a
bedrock of the Western musical tradition for two centuries were being shaken to
their foundations. But to most Meiji-period musicians (including the foreigners who
were their teachers) “Western music” meant not the radical musical developments
in France or Germany, but rather a conservative selection of stylistic commonplaces and academic forms current in early nineteenth century Europe and the United
States. Reduced to a hoard of formulae that the best European composers were increasingly avoiding—four-bar phrases, simple triadic harmonies, sonata form, and
the like—the rules of “Western music” were readily mastered by Japanese learners.
But this knowledge was no more likely to spawn convincing new pieces of music in
Japan than it did in Europe or the United States.
As a result, despite the heroic efforts of composers working in an environment
of cultural upheaval, most Meiji-period compositions in which “East” and “West”
were mixed turned out to be little more than curiosities (ironically, syncretic popular ditties lasted much longer). In the following era, perhaps the most convincing
results lowed from the pen of Yamada Kōsaku (1886–1965). In his songs Yamada
was able to create some memorable melodies, but his larger works, heavily indebted
to Strauss and Brahms, are rarely performed. Arguably more interesting compositions emerged from the other side, when Miyagi Michio (1894–1956) and several
others trained in traditional Japanese genres founded a short-lived “new Japanese
music” movement. Miyagi wrote a number of koto and ensemble pieces, typically
combining harp-like accompanimental igurations with pentatonic strains played on
shakuhachi or some other instrument.8 A few of these pieces remain in the repertory of koto and shakuhachi performers today, but forging a new style out of Japanese and Western traditions, it turned out, was not so much like properly wedding
Pinkerton to Butterly, but rather like combining the Tokugawa bakufu with free and
democratic elections. In music as nearly everywhere else, the ideal summed up in
the popular Meiji period slogan “Japanese spirit and Western know-how” (wakon
yōsai) stubbornly refused to become a convincing reality. The radical rethinking of
both Japanese and European musical styles, the necessary condition for any sort of
synthesis that went beyond facile compromise or tedious mishmash, would have to
wait until after World War II.
2.3
Institutionalizing “Japanese Music”
After Meiji, the notion of “Japanese music” would have proven hopelessly feeble
had it not been buttressed by the institutionalization of much of what was now increasingly viewed as “tradition.” Already on 1870/11/7 the ledgling government
42 • Aspects of Music History: Archaeology, Iconography, …
took the irst step in institutionalizing a major component of “Japanese music” by establishing an ofice of gagaku, staffed by musicians from the families that had served
at the Kyoto court or the Nara Kōfukuji and Osaka Shitennōji temples. These musicians were to oversee and manage the musical culture surrounding the emperor. The
vicissitudes of this ensemble need not concern us here (see Komiya 1956:65–72;
Tsukahara 2003:24–27; Tsukahara 2009), but since the gagaku repertory had always
been maintained by numerous distinct families of musicians, its uniication demanded a good deal of critical revision. In 1876, after several years devoted to hammering
out compromise versions of the repertory, a selection of oficially approved gagaku
pieces and musical notation was decreed (a second installment followed in 1888).
These pieces, which still accompany the rites and rituals of the imperial family today, served as the preferred illustration of “Japanese music” when foreign dignitaries arrived. Gagaku instruments were also often sent to international expositions as
displays of “Japanese music,” even though gagaku was of course music with clear
Chinese and Korean roots.
Somewhat later more unassuming arts also received institutional backing. From
the early twentieth century, “preservation societies” devoted to safeguarding and
diffusing a certain local folk song or performing art began to appear here and there.
Such associations were often motivated by money-making ambitions—increasing
tourism to the local area and the like—but were also fueled by the sense that if rural culture was not properly “rationalized” and bolstered with institutional support
it would surely give way to Western forms. From 1925 to 1936 a “Convention of
Folk Dance and Song” (Kyōdo Buyō to Min’yō no Kai) was held each year (it was
revived under a different name in 1950 and continues today); two years later an “Association of Folk Arts” (Minzoku Geijutsu no Kai) was founded as well (Thornbury
1997:41–45).
Government support of “Japanese music” increased slowly, but after World War
II, with the sudden and overwhelming presence of an occupation army and a new tidal wave of Western cultural importation, the rediscovery and institutionalization of
tradition became a matter of unprecedented urgency. Large-scale efforts were directed at the preservation, maintenance, and diffusion of musical genres the marketplace
would no longer adequately support. In 1949 the government took an important
step, combining the old national music and art schools to create Tokyo University
of Fine Arts and Music. This institution was now properly outitted with a program
of Japanese music performance (it took until 1974 for a position to be created for
Japanese musicology). A year later, in 1950, a new law (“Cultural Properties Protection Law,” revised 1975) allowed the government to designate important cultural
properties; from 1976 several “important intangible folk cultural properties” were
also selected each year (Thornbury 1997:55–66, 157–67). To study and administer
cultural activities throughout the land, the National Research Institute of Cultural
Properties (Tokyo Kokuritsu Bunkazai Kenkyūjo) was established in 1952; a new
Agency for Cultural Affairs (Bunkachō) a branch of the Ministry of Education was
created in 1968.
G. Groemer. The Rise of “Japanese Music” • 43
From the 1960s several important national venues for performance were created
as well. 1966 saw the opening of the National Theater (Kokuritsu gekijō), which
served not only as a stage for performance but also as an institute of research, recording, collection of materials, and the training of performers in the traditional arts.
A national nō theater (Kokuritsu nōgakudō) was created in 1983; in the following
a year a national theater for puppet theater (Kokuritsu bunraku gekijō) opened its
doors to the public. In addition, museums (often including stages for performances)
sought to preserve traditions that were rapidly being lost. Prefectural and local governments also funded a variety of institutions to guard and diffuse local traditional
performing arts.
The mass media, particularly NHK, had been broadcasting occasional performances by Japanese musicians of traditional genres from the late 1920s, but in 1950
a comprehensive program was devoted to the development and change of “Japanese
music.” A series dedicated to “modern Japanese music appreciation” was aired in
1959; this was followed by countless other attempts to introduce and explain “Japanese music” to the general public. In 1964 NHK initiated a ive-year research program dedicated to the foundations of music theory of “Japanese music.” Traditional
Japanese musical genres had been accorded only a peripheral position in the immediate postwar school curriculum, but in 1977 the Education Ministry ordered that
“Japanese music” be allotted more time in the classroom.
Institutionalization continues today, providing a last ditch defense against the
commodiication of the arts, even if “tradition” itself has turned out to be a valuable commodity.9 According to the government’s “Cultural Promotion Master Plan”
of 1998 “the change and diversiication of values, increased internationalization,
and ‘mega competition’” is altering society far too rapidly for comfort (cited in
Baba 1998:203). Such words echo sentiments voiced by philosophers and bureaucrats several centuries ago. Yet whereas the shōgun’s councilors might have recommended clamping down on the cultural marketplace, under liberal capitalism this is
no longer possible. Instead, “Tradition” is summoned to serve as a spiritual glue to
hold together what social reality has sundered. Culture, as the “Master Plan” proposes, “characterizes the national identity”; it is thus summoned to “offer a common
foundation for the people of the nation.” By being spared of the need to compete in
any signiicant way with the commodiied music that the recording and advertising
industries hail as the cultural apex of our times, institutionalized “Japanese music” is
now called on to legitimate the very system that relegates it to an isolation cell.
2.4
Scholarly Discourse Establishing “Japanese Music”
In 1880 Konakamura Kiyonori penned what is arguably the irst history of Japanese
music, A Brief History of Song, Dance, and Music (he wrote it in 60 days, but it
was not published until 1888). The nature of “Japanese music” was not yet problematized, as the title indicates: to Konakamura “Song, Dance, and Music” was still
44 • Aspects of Music History: Archaeology, Iconography, …
simply Japanese Song, Dance, and Music.10 Konakamura was not, of course, the
irst to concern himself with the history of song and instrumental music in Japan—
writings on speciic genres date back almost a millenium. During the late Edo-period
works such as Yamazaki Yoshishige’s 1820 Kakyoku-kō (“A Study of Song”) and
Saitō Gesshin’s 1840 Seikyoku ruisan (“Compendium of Vocal Music,” pub. 1847)
had treated various vocal styles in a roughly historical order. Even encyclopedias
such as the widely used Wakan sansai zue (“Sino-Japanese Illustrated Encyclopedia of Heaven, Earth, and Mankind,” 1713; see vol. 4, pp. 159–70, 209–54) or the
Kiyū shōran (“Conspectus of Diversions,” 1830; see vol. 2, pp. 1–93) had listed and
explained musical instruments or musical genres roughly chronologically. Konakamura’s achievement was to pen a narrative that treated the various forms and styles
of music found throughout Japanese history as something more than a series of disconnected parts. By presenting a logical sequence of “classic” genres (and leaving
out what it poorly into his scheme of development) he created what would become
the dominant paradigm of Japanese music history for at least the next century. Most
importantly, Konakamura allowed the Meiji-period reader to look backward and
conceptualize a more or less uniied “grand tradition” that paralleled that of “Western music.”
If Japanese composers, audiences, and teachers habitually conceived “Western
music” as based on rules and forms with timeless validity, it was only natural for
Japanese musical genres to be analyzed for their own everlasting theoretical basis.
Tanaka Shōhei, who had studied in Germany with Helmholtz, returned to Japan in
1889 and began to analyze Japanese music “scientiically,” notating what he heard
on a ive-line staff (Komiya 1956:367–68). Soon thereafter Uehara Rokushirō authored a treatise entitled “Zokugaku senritsu-kō” (“A Study of the Melodies of Zokugaku,” 1895). Uehara’s study treats only zokugaku, but this is described as music
“practiced universally in both high and low society” (Uehara 1988:197).11 Uehara
assumed that the music he analyzed was based on a scale system analogous to what
was found in “Western music.” His analyses remained paradigmatic until Koizumi
Fumio proposed his far more radical (and powerful) theory of tetrachords in the
late 1950s (Koizumi 1958). Armed with Uehara’s theory, Konakamura’s history, and
the knowledge that an increasing number of traditional musical genres were being
safeguarded in various types of institutions, Japanese musicians and listeners of the
Meiji period could now rest assured that they possessed an identiiable “Japanese
music” paralleling but differing radically from “Western music.”
2.5
Collection and Editing
Despite this success, the ever-accelerating transition from an agrarian to an industrial society continued to foster a sense of cultural loss. Academics and the mass
media responded by arguing that it was time to reconsider rural culture and traditions unsullied by Western inluence. Yanagita Kunio (1875–1962), “the father of
G. Groemer. The Rise of “Japanese Music” • 45
Japanese ethnology,” collected and analyzed folk tales, folk song texts, and other
forms of oral tradition, hoping to locate an unchanging and unifying Japanese essence in a rural past that centered on rice growing.12 Somewhat later Watsuji Tetsurō
(1889–1960) attempted to anchor true Japaneseness in a vague geographical determinism. In his highly inluential Fūdo (translated by Bownas 1988 as Climate and
Culture) he engaged in much speculation and assumption to theorize that Japanese
nature and culture were forever inseparable. To many of his readers he provided a
much-needed supra-historical basis for a “Japanese culture” that remained unsullied
by the upheavals of social reality.13
In the musical world, Machida Kashō (1888–1981) began a systematic project
to collect and record rapidly disappearing rural songs for much the same reason that
Yanagita had turned to folktales. From the late 1930s Honda Yasuji, building on the
work of Yanagita and Kodera Yūkichi, also sought to endow the study of folk performing arts with a secure scholarly basis. Many others, including Machida, did not
content themselves with collection and analysis, but channeled their effort into what
proved to be an ephemeral “new folk song” movement. Proponents of this movement devised folk-like tunes and song texts hoping to stem the tide of musical commercialization and Westernization.
In the following decades Japanese historians of the peforming arts erected a
monumental and ever expanding ediice of research on the foundation laid by their
Meiji and prewar forebears. In recent years countless historical records of almost
every major genre of “Japanese music” have been compiled, edited, and published,
providing anyone who wishes to learn more about the subject with a mass of documentation that takes even the most assiduous student years to process and absorb.
Local researchers and institutions, as well as the national government have also targeted folk performing arts in every corner of the land for recording, analysis, and
preservation. Music commonly takes a back seat to an interest in social context and
literary elements, but from such sources and scholarship it becomes possible to grasp
the highly diverse and historically changing nature of Japanese musical styles and
aesthetics of the past.
2.6
Theories of Japanese Musical Uniqueness
Yet to the mass media, and a good many of the intellectuals who provide it with
information and theory, this ambition is not suficiently grand, for it leaves unsatisied the yearning for a historically invariable musical identity, that, as the government and mass media see it, can serve as the “common foundation for the people.”
Although the best scholarly work, most of it untranslated and unread outside Japan, maintains a safe distance from such ideological aims, innumerable inluential
commentators and critics continue to hypothesize a “Japanese music” with unique
features and an everlasting essence. Watsuji’s proposition of an immediate, suprahistorical link of climate to culture, for example, has been rehashed so many times
46 • Aspects of Music History: Archaeology, Iconography, …
over the last ifty years that it is worth considering a typical recent example. In a
textbook for nationally aired correspondence courses, Takeuchi Michitaka, author of
invaluable studies on the history of Edo-period performing arts, attempts to explain
the dearth of metallophones in “Japanese music” by appealing directly to the “wet”
Japanese climate. Instead of analyzing the history of Japanese mining, smelting, or
metalworking, and conveniently avoiding the issue of Buddhist metal percussion
instruments, Takeuchi presents charts of annual rainfall, temperature, and humidity
of several of the world’s cities (Takeuchi 1996:9), carefully leaving out Seoul, which
much resembles Tokyo, or Manila which is a good deal more damp than either.
Takeuchi then compares Japan to European countries, “which are generally arid” (p.
13)—a claim latly contradicted by the information in his own charts. The point here,
or in other sections where one reads of the extraordinary Japanese “moist eardrum”
(p. 13) or that the crisp air in Europe makes pianists sound better (p. 14), is not to
present a falsiiable argument, but to shore up the emotionally charged claim that the
Japanese from ancient times to the present have developed a unique “delicate sensibility” and have maintained a musical culture that “conforms to the Japanese climate
(fūdo)” (p. 19). Indeed, proximity to nature, perhaps a mirror image of wholesale
environmental destruction, has become something of a mantra among proponents of
“Japanese music.” It is repeated so often that hardly a scholar or musician in Japan—
and many a writer in other lands as well—has remained immune to its effects. Even
the Education Ministry demanded for many years that music played for children
in the junior-high school classroom be selected to “allow one to sense the natural
beauty and the seasons of our land” (Monbushō 1998:60), though how this was to be
done through music is never explained.
Japanese ethnomusicologists also habitually offer absurdly simplistic theories
regarding the supposedly exceptional properties of “Japanese music” and its links
to climate or agriculture. Kojima Tomiko, a highly visible and oft quoted igure, follows the cue of Yanagita Kunio in her emphasis on folk music and the farm village.
In lectures broadcast nationally on NHK she has explained that the movements of
peasants plodding through rice paddies have produced a “unique” Japanese duple
rhythm with no strong and weak beats (Kojima 1994). Although this is perhaps more
convincing than Takeuchi’s contention that Japanese music includes “music with no
rhythm” (Takeuchi 1996: 121), by Kojima’s logic a military march in Western music
should presumably also exhibit no sense of meter, and judging from the songs they
sing, Korean peasants must surely have three legs.
Other writers have characterized “Japanese music” as concerned chiely with
solitary sounds, pregnant pauses, and the lonely chirps of distant insects. Though the
tension of silence or the use of subtle noise elements does characterize certain musical styles, the myth that stillness is some kind of essential feature of Japanese culture
or ways of feeling has recently been properly exploded by Nakajima Michio (Nakajima 1999). Argumentation regarding sonic differences between “the Japanese” and
“the West” climaxed in the late 1970s when Tokyo Medical and Dental University
professor Tsunoda Tadanobu announced to the world in a best-selling volume that
G. Groemer. The Rise of “Japanese Music” • 47
thanks to the allegedly unique phonic qualities of the Japanese language, Japanese
process the tones of “Japanese music” (and bug sounds) on the left cerebral hemisphere and “Western music” on the right, whereas vaguely deined “Westerners”
through no fault of their own end up indiscriminately processing everything on the
right (Tsunoda 1985).
For reasons that are far more interesting than Tsunoda’s theory itself, such crackpot science was eagerly, if briely, embraced by inluential igures in the Japanese
musical world, including Takemitsu Tōru, Shibata Minao, Koizumi Fumio, and Kikkawa Eishi. Today intelligent scholars in and out of Japan have shelved Tsunoda’s
volume between tomes on phlogiston and geocentrism, but natives and foreigners
alike continue to deine or characterize “Japanese music” by appealing to dubious
unique musical qualities which are then usually contrasted to equally suspect “Western” principles. In some quarters “Japanese music” is said to lack “form,” being
instead “like water in a river” that never turns back on itself (Dan and Koizumi
1976:83). Such a blanket statement is easily refuted by pointing to countless strophic
songs sung in Japan since time immemorial; in fact it does not even hold true for
most of the “classics” of the Japanese instrumental repertoire. Even a scholar of the
caliber of the late Hirano Kenji could explain the difference of “Japanese music” and
“Western music” by noting that though Schumann’s “Träumerei” may be arranged
for violin and piano, a nō piece played on koto is simply not “the same” (Hirano
1988:22). Hirano, who knew better than anyone the extent to which traditional Japanese songs, koto, shamisen music, and much else criss-cross the boundaries of genre,
no doubt never attempted to transcribe “Träumerei” for snare drum and narrator to
judge whether it too remains “the same.” But this is not the point. His aim, like those
of his many like-minded colleagues, was to deine a “Japanese music” that is wholly
unique and characterized by eternal principles. And if the qualities he ascribes to this
music are not empirically veriiable, so much the worse for the facts.
3. Conclusion: “Japanese Music” Today
The opportunity to create a dynamically developing and broadly understood “Japanese music” that differed radically in its musical grammar from other musics on
the globe was missed at the end of the Edo period. During this era the musical marketplace had begun to forge a real “Japanese music,” but this music was denied in
the hegemonic Confucian and Buddhist ideologies of the day. Today the situation
is exactly the reverse: in order to legitimize itself, the liberal capitalist nation-state
must set aside enclaves of “traditional” music that are only marginally attached to
the musical marketplace, while ideology is summoned to reunite the sundered parts
of tradition under the rubric of “Japanese music.” That “Japanese music” is not what
it was in the past is not the result of too many “closed minds,” of unnaturally erected
genre boundaries, or of insuficiently conservative education policies. Instead, it relects faithfully the fact that the forces governing the Japanese musical world today
48 • Aspects of Music History: Archaeology, Iconography, …
are so contradictory that not even the emperor’s horses and men could put them together again. The rise of a notion of “Japanese music” neatly parallels the increasing
impossibility of sustaining the integrated musical culture that it implies. The only
unity that remains is the music industry’s ideological deinition of “Japanese music”
as any pop tune recorded by someone with Japanese nationality or sung in the Japanese language.
This is not to suggest that the remnants of a disjointed musical world cannot be
in a sense successful as fragments, even if the necessity of fragmentation ought not
to be turned into some kind of postmodern virtue. For one, “Japanese music” has
become a key symbol of the Japanese “cultural heritage.” “Tradition” has proven
highly valuable in providing a sense of national and cultural uniqueness to those who
seek it. Natives and foreigners alike often argue that “Japanese music” of this sort
presents the true “essence” of Japan: not the Japan of reality, of course, but rather a
land of dreams where silence and delicate aural sensibilities reign. More signiicantly, musical genres that developed before the arrival of Perry continue to challenge
performers and listeners on both intellectual and emotional levels. In their forms
and styles, as well as in their aesthetic ideals, such musics confront the clichés and
limitations of commercial music, showing them to be neither natural nor inevitable,
but rather the result of highly limiting and historically contingent ways of organizing
sound. Most Japanese commentators on musical genres that arose in the pre-Meiji
past loathe the fact that traditional music is “removed from daily life.” Yet it is precisely this critical distance that endows such music with a good deal of its value.
Finally, composers uninterested in scoring a commercial “hit” or in constraining
themselves to aesthetics taken over from the past, continue to use “Japanese music”
in their search for new musical possibilities. Some musicians cater to the desires of
performers of traditional instruments to extend their technical and aesthetic limits
beyond the resources provided by Edo-period composers. In some cases this results
in a mix of Debussy, Stravinsky, or even recent “minimalist” styles with something
identiiably Japanese—as often as not simply the fact that the music is played on
koto or shakuhachi. Such “modern Japanese music” (gendai hōgaku) is eagerly promoted by many virtuosi of Japanese instruments, but in many cases its easy comprehensibility is paid for with the lack of persuasiveness that musical compromise faces
whenever it appears.
Far more interesting music has been written by composers who take seriously
Schönberg’s adage that the middle road is the only one that does not lead to Rome.
Takemitsu Tōru, Ichiyanagi Toshi, and Ishii Maki, to name just a few, have all written music for both Japanese and Western instruments. They have been pioneers in
demonstrating that native instruments can be used to make music that deies facile
classiication as “Western” or “Japanese.” More recently Nishimura Akira, Takahashi Yūji, Hosokawa Toshio, Satō Sōmei, Niimi Tokuhide, and others, whatever
they may comment on air or argue in their essays, demonstrate in their best musical
moments that they are not easily swayed by market-driven verbiage that demands
them to seek their “ethnic roots” or to create yet another supericial “synthesis” of
G. Groemer. The Rise of “Japanese Music” • 49
pop and traditional styles. Such composers are not, of course, uninluenced by the
musical marketplace, but they tend to keep it at arm’s length, both stylistically and
economically (often they earn a living from teaching or performing). While remaining open to inluences from the most challenging musical styles of Asia (including
of course Japan), Europe, Africa, and elsewhere, they reveal that only through a process of high-level abstraction or ironic distantiation does material stemming from
heterogeneous traditions inally become compatible. Much to the dismay of conservative national identity theorists, this type of critical thinking and musical activity
relativizes Japan’s place in the global musical context. As the opposition of “Japan
vs. the West” is shown to be increasingly anachronistic, the “Japaneseness” of the
inest compositions becomes nearly irrelevant. “Japanese music” here inally comes
to life because it cancels itself out, demonstrating in the process that like “man” for
Ortega y Gasset it has no essence, only a history.
Acknowlegments
I would like to thank Thomas Rimer, Hugh de Ferranti, and Patrick Halliwell for useful comments
on an earlier draft of this paper.
Notes
1
The expression “Nihon ongaku” is probably a Meiji-period translation of the English term
“Japanese music.” The word “hōgaku” is of a slightly more recent vintage and is used mainly
as a contrastive to “yōgaku,” (“Western music” styles current in Japan). As Tsuge Gen’ichi has
pointed out (Tsuge 1994:102–03), “Japanese music” studied outside Japan often includes the
music of minority groups, traditions created or sustained by emigrants and their descendants,
as well as many popular or hybrid genres that scholars within Japan generally avoid.
2
Ackermann (1995) has indicated that the learning process in some traditional musical genres
has often been conceived as a quasi-Buddhist “Way” toward enlightenment rather than the
acquisition of what would be considered “musical” skills in the West. Although this may have
been partly true in the past, musical activity was never limited to learning, but also included
appreciation by audiences who cared little about religious implications. Moreover, even in the
distant past many genres were pursued with little regard for high-minded spiritual values.
3
For a good discussion of Sorai and Dazai see Kikkawa 1988:73–79.
4
On the implications of ga and zoku in the art world see Nakano 1989.
5
For an English-language discussion of the iemoto (“household head”) system and its effects see
Nishiyama 1997:4–5, 204–10.
6
See Matsudaira Yamato no Kami nikki.
7
There were also 25 male geisha active in Yoshiwara.
8
On Miyagi see Prescott 1997.
50 • Aspects of Music History: Archaeology, Iconography, …
9
The “Festival Law” of 1992, for example, explicitly links folk performing arts to the promotion
of tourism (see Thornbury 1997:67–74).
10 I have been unable to locate any book that includes the term “Japanese music” in the title published before 1908.
11 Uehara of course knew that gagaku had its own highly developed theory of scales and modes.
12 On the intellectual and political climate surrounding Yanagita’s thought see Oguma 2002:175–
202.
13 For a good critical discussion of Watsuji’s aims and intellectual environment see Oguma
2002:260–84. It has rarely been pointed out that the basis of Watsuji’s theory is heavily indebted to the largely forgotten work of Friedrich Ratzel and his followers.
References
Ackerman, Peter
1995 “Dürfen wir von ‘Japanischer Musik’ sprechen?” In Klaus Wolfgang Niemöller, Uwe
Pätzold, and Chang Kyo-chul, eds., Lux Oriente: Begegnungen der Kulturen in der
Musikforschung: Festschrift Robert Günther zum 65. Geburtstag im Namen aller Kollegen, 87–101. Kassel: G. Bosse.
Ama no takumo no ki
1974 Nihon zuihitsu taisei, series 2, vol. 22, 199–264. Tokyo: Yoshikawa Kōbunkan.
Baba Ken’ichi.
1998 Chiiki bunka seisaku no shin shiten. Tokyo: Yūzankaku.
Bownas, Geoffrey, trans.
1988 Watsuji Tetsurō, Climate and Culture: A Philosophical Study. Tokyo: Yushōdō
[1961].
Dan Ikuma and Koizumi Fumio
1976 Nihon ongaku no saihakken. Tokyo: Kōdansha.
Dokugo
1975
In Nihon zuihitsu taisei, series 1, vol. 17, 259–88. Tokyo: Yoshikawa Kōbunkan.
Ehime-ken shi, shiryō-hen, kinsei, ge
1988 Ehime-ken Shi Hensan Finkai, ed., Ehime-ken.
Eppstein, Ury
1994 The Beginnings of Western Music in Meiji Era Japan. Lewiston N.Y.: Edwin Mellen
Press.
Fukui-shi shi, shiryō-hen, vol. 6 (kinsei, part 4, jō, hanpō-shū 1)
1997 Fukui-shi, ed., Fukui-shi.
Gifu-ken shi, shiryō-hen, kinsei, vol. 2
1966 Gifu-ken, ed., Gifu-ken.
Groemer, Gerald
1998 “Nō at the Crossroads: Commoner Performances During the Edo Period.” Asian Theatre Journal, 15(1):117–41.
2001 “The Guild of the Blind in Tokugawa Japan.” Monumenta Nipponica, 56(3):349–80.
G. Groemer. The Rise of “Japanese Music” • 51
Hanpō-shū, vol. 7 (Kumamoto domain)
1966 Tokyo: Sōbunsha.
Hirano Kenji
1988 “Nihon ni oite ongaku to wa nani ka,” in Iwanami kōza: Nihon no ongaku, Ajia no
ongaku, vol. 1 (Gainen no keisei), 17–38. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten.
Hiroshima-ken shi, kinsei shiryō-hen, vol. 3
1973 Hiroshima-ken, ed. Hiroshima-ken.
Howe, Sondra Wieland
1997 Luther Whiting Mason: International Music Educator. Warren, Michigan: Harmonie
Park Press.
Ishii Ryōsuke
1995 Nyonin sabetsu to kinsei senmin. Tokyo: Akashi Shoten.
Kakyoku-kō
1932 Ed. Fujita Tokutarō. Tokyo: Ōokayama Shoten.
Kasshi yawa, zoku-hen
1979 Nakamura Yukihiko, Nakano Mitsutoshi, eds., Vol. 2. Tokyo: Heibonsha.
1980 Nakamura Yukihiko, Nakano Mitsutoshi, eds., Vol. 4. Tokyo: Heibonsha.
Keichō kenbunshū
1969 In Nihon shomin seikatsu shiryō shūsei, vol. 8:471–640. Tokyo: San’ichi Shobō.
Kenzan hisaku
1928 Nihon keizai taiten, vol. 6, 237–731. Tokyo: Shishi Shuppansha.
Kikkawa Eishi
1988 “Nihon no ongaku shisō: kinsei o chūshin ni,” in Iwanami kōza: Nihon no ongaku, Ajia
no ongaku, vol. 1 (Gainen no keisei), 61–83. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten.
Kiyūshōran
1979 Tokyo: Meicho Kankōkai. 2 vols
Koizumi Fumio
1958 Nihon dentō ongaku no kenkyū 1. Tokyo: Ongaku no Tomosha.
Kojima Tomiko
1994 Ongaku kara mita Nihonjin, (NHK Ningen Daigaku). Tokyo: NHK.
Komiya Toyotaka
1956 Japanese Music and Drama in the Meiji Era. Trans. and adapted by Edward Seidensticker and Donald Keene. Tokyo: Ōbunsha.
Konakamura Kiyonori
1928 Kabu ongaku ryakushi. Tokyo: Iwanami Bunko.
Malm, William
1976 “The Modern Music of Meiji Japan,” in Donald Shively, ed., Tradition and Modernization in Japanese Culture, 257–300. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Matsudaira Yamato no Kami nikki
1977 In Nihon shomin bunka shiryō shūsei, vol. 12 (geinō kiroku 1), 5–625. Tokyo: San’ichi
Shobō.
Meiji no engei (vol. 1)
1980 Engei shiryō sensho, vol. 1. Tokyo: Kokuritsu Gekijō Chōsa Yōseibu Geinō Chōsashitsu.
52 • Aspects of Music History: Archaeology, Iconography, …
Minka bunryō-ki
1977 In Tochigi-ken shi, shiryō-hen, kinsei, vol. 8, 657–91. Tochigi-ken.
Minka dōmō-kai
1977 In Tochigi-ken shi, shiryō-hen, kinsei, vol. 8, 691–757. Tochigi-ken.
Miyazaki-ken shi, shiryō-hen, kinsei, vol. 6
1997 Miyazaki-ken, ed., Miyazaki-ken.
Mito kinen
1970 In Ibaraki-ken shiryō, kinsei seiji-hen, vol. 1, 432–623. Ibaraki-ken.
Mizunami-shi shi, shiryō-hen
1972 (Gifu prefecture) Mizunami-shi.
Monbushō
1998 Chūgakkō gakushū shidō yōryō: Monbushō kokuji. Tokyo: Gyōsei.
Morisada mankō
1992 Asakura Haruhiko, Kashiwakawa Shūichi eds., 5 vols. Tokyo: Tōkyōdō Shuppan.
Nakajima Michio
1999 Urusai Nihon no watashi. Tokyo: Shinchō Bunko.
Nakano Mitsutoshi
1989 “The Role of Traditional Aesthetics,” in C. Andrew Gerstle, ed., 18th Century Japan,
124–31. Sidney: Allen & Unwin.
Nishiyama Matsunosuke
1997 Edo Culture, trans. Gerald Groemer. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press.
Ogi Shinzō
1979 Tōkei shomin seikatsu-shi kenkyū, Tokyo: Nihon Hōsō Shuppan Kyōkai.
Oguma Eiji
2002 A Genealogy of “Japanese” Self-Images, trans. David Askew. Melbourne: Trans Paciic Press.
Okayama-ken shi, vol. 26 (Shohan bunsho)
1983 Okayama-ken Shi Hensan Iinkai, ed., Okayama-ken.
Ōta-shi shi, shiryō-hen, kinsei 1
1978 (Gunma-ken) Ōta-shi, ed., Ōta-shi.
Prescott, Anne Elizabeth
1997 “Miyagi Michio, the Father of Modern Koto Music: His Life, Works and Innovations.”
PhD dissertation, Kent State University.
Sabetsu no shosō
1990 Nihon kindai shisō taikei, vol. 22. Hirota Masaki, ed. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten.
Sayama-shi shi
1987 Kinsei shiryō-hen, vol. 2. (Saitama-ken) Sayama-shi.
Seikyoku ruisan
1941 Fujita Tokutarō, ed. Iwanami Shoten.
Seji kenbunroku
1969 In Nihon shomin seikatsu shiryō shūsei, vol. 8, 641–766. Tokyo: San-ichi Shobō.
Shikidō ōkagami
1980 In Zoku enseki jisshu, vol. 3, 265–431. Tokyo: Chūō Kōronsha.
G. Groemer. The Rise of “Japanese Music” • 53
Shiryō-shū: Meiji shoki hisabetsu buraku
1986 Osaka: Buraku Kaihō Kenkyūjo.
Sho-geinin-mei roku
1976 In Nihon shomin bunka shiryō shūsei, vol. 8, 297–340. Tokyo: San’ichi Shobō.
Suifu chiri onko-roku
1968 In Ibaraki-ken shiryō, kinsei chishi-hen. Ibaraki-ken.
Suwa ka no ko
1984 In Fukkoku Suwa shiryo sōsho, vol. 4, 13–50. (Nagano prefecture) Suwa-shi: Suwa-shi
Chūō Kikaku.
Takeuchi Michitaka
1996 Nihon ongaku no kiso gainen. Hōsō Daigaku Kyōiku Shinkōkai.
Thornbury, Barbara E.
1997 The Folk Performing Arts: Traditional Culture in Contemporary Japan. Albany N.Y.:
State University of New York Press.
Tokugawa kinrei-kō, zenshū, vol. 5.
1959 Ishii Ryōsuke, ed. Tokyo: Sōbunsha.
Tōkyō-shi shi kō, shigai-hen
1961–66 Tokyo: Tōkyō-to, (vol. 51) 1961; (vol. 52) 1962; (vol. 53) 1963; (vol. 58) 1966.
Tosei buya zokudan
1979 In Enseki jisshu, vol. 4, 103–40. Tokyo: Chūō Kōron-sha.
Tsuge, Gen’ichi
1994 “Kaigai ni okeru Nihon ongaku kenkyū.” Tōyō ongaku kenkyū, 59:102–07.
Tsukahara Yasuko
2003 “Kindai ongaku kayō no seiritsu katei ni okeru ‘Nihon ongaku,’” in Ryū Ringyoku
(Liou Lin-Yu), ed., Kindai ongaku kayō no seiritsu katei ni okeru kokuminsei no mondai, (Heisei 13–14 nendo kagaku kenkyūhi hojokin kenkykū seika hōkokusho), n.p.,
17–31.
Tsunoda, Tadanobu
1985 The Japanese Brain: Uniqueness and Universality, trans. Yoshinori Oiwa. Tokyo:
Taishūkan. (original title, Nihonjin no nō, Taishūkan, 1978).
2009 Meiji kokka to gagaku: dentō no kindaika, kokugaku no sōsei. Tokyo: Yûshisha.
Uehara Rokushirō
1988 “Zokugaku senritsu-kō,” in Kurata Yoshihiro, ed. Geinō (Nihon kindai shisō taikei),
vol. 18, 195–232. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten.
Wakan sansai zue (vol. 4)
1986 Shimada Isao et al. eds. Tokyo: Heibonsha.
Acknowledgments
Regine Allgayer-Kaufmann: “From the Innocent to the Exploring Eye: Transcription on the Defensive.” the world of music 47, 2005(2):71–86. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Gregory Barz: “Soundcsapes of Disaffection and Spirituality in Tanzanian Kwaya Music.” the
world of music 47, 2005(1):5–32. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Max Peter Baumann: “Festivals, Musical Actors and Mental Constructs in the Process of Globalization.” the world of music 43, 2001(2+3):9–29. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Dan Bendrups: “Easter Island Music and the Voice of Kiko Pate: A Biographical History of Sound
Recordings.” the world of music 49, 2007(1):125–41. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Arnd Aje Both: “Aztec Music Culture.” the world of music 49, 2007(2):91–104. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Ben Brinner: Cognitive and Interpersonal Dimensions of Listening in Javanese Gamelan Performance.” the world of music 41, 1999 (1):19–35. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Martina Claus-Bachmann: “Kuveni, or the Curse of a Women as a Flashpoint for Music-oriented
(Re)Constructions.” the world of music 46, 2004(3):15–36. Reprinted by permission of the
author.
Paula Conlon: “The Native American Flute: Convergence and Collaboration as Exempliied by
R. Carlos Nakai.” the world of music 44, 2002(1):61–74. Reprinted by permission of the
author.
Timothy J. Cooley: “Folk Festivals as Modern Ritual in the Polish Tatra Mountains.” the world of
music 41, 1999(3):31–55. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Bruno Deschênes: “The Interest of Westerners in Non-Western Music.” the world of music 47,
2005(3):5–15. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Beverley Diamond: “Native American Contemporary Music: The Women.” the world of music 44,
2002(1)11–39. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Jean During: “Hearing and Understanding in the Islamic Gnosis.” the world of music 39,
1997(2):127–37. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Linda Fujie: “Japanese Taiko Drumming in International Performance: Converging Musical Ideas
in the Search for Success on Stage.” the world of music 43, 2001(2+3):93–101. Reprinted by
permission of the copy-holder.
Carl Gombrich: “Expressions of Inexpressible Truths: Attempts at Descriptions of Mystical and
Musical Experiences.” the world of music 50, 2008(1):89–105. Reprinted by permission of
the author.
Gerald Groemer: “The Rise of ‘Japanese Music’.” the world of music 46, 2004(2):9–34. Reprinted
by permission of the author.
Nathan Hesselink: “Taking Culture Seriously: Democratic Music and Its Transformative Potential
in South Korea.” the world of music 49, 2007(3):75–106. Reprinted by permission of the
author.
Sydney Hutchinson: “Becoming the Tíguera: The Female Accordionist in Dominican Merengue
Típico.” the world of music 50, 2008(3):37–56. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Acknowledgements • 723
Margaret Kartomi: “Meaning, Style, and Change in Gamalan and Wayang Kulit Banjar Since Their
Transplantation from Hindu-Buddhist Java to South Kalimantan.” the world of music 44,
2002(2):17–55. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Laura Leante: “Shaping Diasporic Sounds: Identity as Meaning in Bhangra.” the world of music 46,
2004(1):109–32. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Karl Neuenfeldt: “Good Vibrations? The ‘Curious’ Cases of the Didjeridu in Spectacle and Therapy
in Australia.” the world of music 40, 1998(2):29–51. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Tiago de Oliveira Pinto: “Healing Process as Musical Drama: The Ebó Ceremony in the Bahian
Candomblé of Brazil.” the world of music 39, 1997(1):11–33. Reprinted by permission of
the author.
Chan E. Park: “Poetics and Politics of Korean Oral Tradition in a Cross-cultural Context.” the
world of music 45, 2003(3):91–103. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Svanibor Pettan: “Gypsies, Music, and Politics in the Balkan: A Case Study from Kosovo.” the
world of music 38, 1996(1):33–61. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Rainer Polak: “A Musical Instrument Travels Around the World: Jenbe Playing in Bamako, West
Africa, and Beyond.” the world of music 42, 2000(3):7–46. Reprinted by permission of the
author.
Regula Burckhardt Qureshi: “In Search of Begum Akthar: Patriarchy, Poetry, and Twentieth-Century Music.” the world of music 43, 2001(1):97–137. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Owe Ronström: “Revival Reconsidered.” the world of music 38, 1996(3):5–20. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Toru Seyama: “The Re-contextualization of the Shakuhachi (Syakuhati) and its Music from Traditional/Classical into Modern/Popular.” the world of music 40, 1998(2):69–83. Reprinted by
permission of the author.
Sonjah Stanley Niaah: “A Common Space: Dancehall, Kwaito, and the Mapping of New World
Music and Performance.” the world of music 50, 2008(2):35–50. Reprinted by permission
of the author.
Jonathan P. J. Stock: “Toward an Ethnomusicology of the Individual, or Biographical Writing in
Ethnomusicology.” the world of music 43, 2001(1):5–12. Reprinted by permission of the
author.
Jeff Todd Titon: “Music and Sustainability: An Ecological Viewpoint.” the world of music 51,
2009(1):119–37. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Thomas Turino: “The Mbira, Worldbeat, and the International Imagination.” the world of music 40,
1998(2):85–106. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Christian Utz: “Listening Attentively to Cultural Fragmentation: Tradition and Composition in
Works by East Asian Composers.” the world of music 45, 2003(2):7–38. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Bonnie C. Wade: “Performing the Drone in Hindustani Classical Music: What Mughal Paintings
Show Us to Hear.” the world of music 38, 1996(2):41–67. Reprinted by permission of the
author.
All articles are reprinted also by permission of the publisher VWB – Verlag für Wissenschaft und
Bildung, Berlin, 2011 and the editors Max Peter Baumann (1988–2007) and Jonathan P. J. Stock
(2008–2009).
About the Authors
Regine Allgayer-Kaufmann, studied pedagogics, music, and German literature at the Ludwigsburg College of Education and the Stuttgart University (1969–72), examined in 1972 and took a
teaching profession post in West Berlin (1972–74). She studied musicology at the Göttingen University and the Berlin Free University (1974-86) and took the doctorate in comparative musicology
in 1986. She was an assistant professor at the Berlin Free University (1987–89), a part-time lecturer
at the Göttingen University (1992), and completed her Habilitation in 1995 with a study on Bandas
de Pífanos (based on ield research in Brazil). She substituted the chair of comparative musicology
at the Berlin Free University (1996–02) and was appointed professor at the University of Vienna
in 2002. She carried out ield work in Brazil and in Italy. Her main areas of interest are Brazilian
music (including música popular brasileira), oral tradition and transmission, aesthetics, and music
theater. She currently works on a project on the bumba-meu-boi in Brazil.
Gregory Barz is author of Music in East Africa: Experiencing Music, Expressing Culture (Oxford
2004), Performing Religion: Negotiating Past and Present in Kwaya Music of Tanzania (Amsterdam 2003) and co-editor of Shadows in the Field: New Perspectives for Fieldwork in Ethnomusicology (Oxford University Press 2nd ed., 2008) and Mashindano! Competitive Music Performance
in East Africa (Mkuki na Nyota 2000). He has engaged ield research in Uganda, Kenya, and
Tanzania, most recently focusing on the use of music, dance, and drama in HIV/AIDS educational
outreach by women’s and youth groups in eastern and central Uganda. He researches adult-male
circumcision rituals in East Africa. He is Associate Professor of Musicology/Ethnomusicology at
the Blair School of Music, Vanderbilt University, USA and at the University of the Free State, South
Africa.
Max Peter Baumann, professor emeritus for ethnomusicology is editor of the Intercultural Music
Studies. For twenty years, from 1988 to 2007, he was editor of the journal the world of music. He
received his doctorate in musicology at the University of Berne and has taught as assistant professor at the Institute for Comparative Musicology of the Free University Berlin, from 1976 to 1982.
1982 he was appointed to professor for ethnomusicology and folk music at the University of Bamberg. After a visiting professorship at the Columbia University, New York (1985/86), he served as
Director of the International Institute for Traditional Music (IITM) in Berlin, from 1987 to 1996,
and taught afterwards again at the University of Bamberg. From 2007 to 2009, upon retirement,
he taught as professor for ethnomusicology at the Institute for Music Research of the University
of Würzburg. Baumann carried out numerous ield researches and cooperation projects in several
countries. He is author and editor of many publications with a special interest in methodological
questions of ield research, in cultural anthropology of hearing and listening, in music of the Alpine
countries, of Latin America and Bolivia, in music of Sinti und Roma and Klezmorim as well as in
Musik im interkulturellen Kontext (2006).
Dan Bendrups is Senior Research Fellow and Senior Lecturer in Ethnomusicology at the Queensland Conservatorium, Grifith University, Brisbane, Australia. He is the key research fellow on
the Australian Research Council funded linkage project “Sustainable Futures for Music Cultures,”
led by Queensland Conservatorium Research Centre director Huib Schippers. He has conducted
extensive research into Rapanui (Easter Island) music and culture, and is actively engaged in other
About the Authors • 725
research projects around the South Paciic, especially with regard to migrant musics. Dan Bendrups
is currently chair of the Australia/New Zealand Regional Committee of the ICTM, and recording
reviews editor for the world of music.
Arnd Adje Both is curator at the Reiss-Engelhorn-Museen Mannheim, Germany. He received his
PhD with a dissertation on the Aztec wind instruments unearthed in the temple precinct of Tenochtitlan (2005). For his MA thesis on the musical traditions of Late Postclassic Mesoamerica,
music-archaeological perspectives (1999) he was awarded with the Rudolf-Virchow-Förderpreis of
the Berliner Gesellschaft für Anthropologie, Ethnologie und Urgeschichte. He carries out several
research projects on pre-Hispanic music cultures and the living traditions, including ield research
in Mexico (www.mixcoacalli.com). He is chair of the ICTM Study Group for Music Archaeology
(UNESCO).
Benjamin Brinner is currently Chair of the Department of Music at the University of California at
Berkeley, where he has taught ethnomusicology courses and co-directed Gamelan Sari Raras since
1988, and holds the Henry and Julia Weisman Schutt Chair in Music. He has also taught at Tel Aviv
University, the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, and the Jerusalem Music Center, as well as Colorado College. He earned the PhD and MA degrees in the ethnomusicology program at UC Berkeley
after completing a BA in musicology at the Hebrew University.—Brinner is interested in issues of
musical cognition, particularly questions of musical memory and how musicians know what they
know and how that inluences their interactions with one another in performance. He has conducted
research in Indonesia (Central Java and Bali) and Israel, with the support of two Fulbright fellowships and various research grants from the University of California. In addition to articles in The
New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicans and in journals such as Ethnomusicology, Asian
Music, and the Journal of the American Musicological Society, he has written three books. The
irst, Knowing Music, Making Music: Javanese Gamelan and the Theory of Musical Competence
and Interaction (University of Chicago Press, 1995), won ASCAP’s Deems Taylor Award. This
was followed by a textbook, Music in Central Java, for Oxford University Press’s Global Music
series. The most recent book, Playing Across a Divide: Musical Encounters in a Contested Land
on musical collaborations between Jews and Arabs in Israel (Oxford University Press, 2010), was
awarded the 2010 Alan P. Merriam Prize for Outstanding Book in Ethnomusicology by the Society
for Ethnomusicology.
Martina Claus-Bachmann studied music education and instrumental music, ethnomusicology and
German language and literature at the Universities of Würzburg and Bamberg. Herself a music
teacher in German schools for 25 years, she has published her PhD. thesis on Buddhist liturgical
music of Chinese migrants in Indonesia and more than 50 articles which are particularly concerned
with ways of transferring ethnomusicological experiences into pedagogical contexts. She has engaged in ield research in The Gambia, and primarily in Sri Lanka, where she spent one year to prepare her habilitation, involving work on an emic approach to the musical and cultural experiences
of young people. Her recent work includes developing multimedia projects on the borderline markers of several cultural systems in connection with didactical concepts of individualized classroom
teaching (i.e., http://www.ethnomusicscape.de). From 2002 until 2008 she had a temporary lectureship at the Justus-Liebig-University Giessen. Recently she is designing bilingual media combinations for the publishing company ulme-mini-verlag and working on a volume for the study group
MUREL (MUsicReseach and ELearning) in the International Music Society concerning the topic
music research and virtuality.
Paula Conlon is associate professor of music at the School of Music (University of Oklahoma),
teaches world music, Native American music and ethnomusicology at both the graduate and undergraduate levels. Conlon is a frequent presenter at conferences and lecture-recitals on her specialty,
the Native American lute, and is writing a biography on noted Comanche lutist and artist Doc
726 • the world of music—Readings in Ethnomusicology
Tate Nevaquaya under contract with the University of Oklahoma Press. Since coming to Oklahoma
in 1996, Conlon has attended numerous Native American social and ceremonial dances, and she
incorporates this irst-hand experience into her teaching. Conlon earned a diploma in lute performance from the Royal Conservatory of Music at the University of Toronto, a master of arts degree
in music from the Institute of Canadian Studies at Carleton University in Ottawa, and a doctor of
philosophy degree in musicology from the Faculty of Music at the University of Montreal.
Timothy J. Cooley is an Associate Professor of Ethnomusicology at the University of California,
Santa Barbara, where he teaches courses on Polish and American vernacular and popular musics.
He is also Afiliated Faculty with the university’s Global and International Studies Program. His
edited volume, Shadows in the Field: New Perspectives for Fieldwork in Ethnomusicology, now
in its second edition, is a standard text for students of ethnomusicology. His book, Making Music
in the Polish Tatras: Tourists, Ethnographers, and Mountain Musicians, won the 2006 Orbis Prize
for Polish Studies. Cooley served as the Editor of Ethnomusicology, the journal of the Society for
Ethnomusicology, from 2006 to 2009. Cooley’s current research considers how musical behaviors
are combined with lifestyle sports to create meaningful afinity groups with a global reach.
Bruno Deschênes is composer, musician, ethnomusicologist, as well as critic and journalist of
World Music. As an ethnomusicologist, his primary ield of study is the history and aesthetics of
Japanese traditional music, particularly in regard to the shakuhachi, which he plays. His second
ield of study is what Swiss ethnomusicologist Laurent Aubert calls “transmusicality,” that is, those
musicians who take on the music of a culture of which they are not native (in particular, Westerners), investigating identity, authenticity, performance, teaching. Deschênes recently published two
papers on this aspect of his research: “La transmusicalité: ces musiciens occidentaux qui optent
pour la musique de l’‘autre’” (Musicultures 34/35, 2007/08:47–70), and “Le musicien transmusical” (in Territoires musicaux mis en scène. Montréal: Les Presses de l’Université de Montréal,
2011, 385–98).
Beverley Diamond is the Canada Research Chair in Ethnomusicology at Memorial University, in
St. John’s, Newfoundland (Canada), where she founded the Research Centre for Music, Media and
Place. She has worked with Aboriginal musicians in Canada as well as Sami musicians in Scandinavia. Most recently her work has focused on issues of indigenous modernity, including intellectual
property in relation to traditional protocols, the impact of new technologies and communication
modes, and the ways contemporary genres and styles of music have been deployed to articulate
political and social concerns. Other research has focused on feminist (ethno)musicology, the social construction of audio technologies and Canadian music historiography, particularly in relation
to cultural diversity. Among her extensive publications is her most recent book, Native American
Music in Eastern North America (2008), in the Global Music series of Oxford University Press.
She was elected to the Royal Society of Canada in 2008 and was awarded a Trudeau Fellowship
in 2009.
Professor Jean During is born in France in 1947. He has spent eleven years in Iran and ive years in
Uzbekistan. As a director of research at the French National Center for Scientiic Research (Paris)
he has written twelve books on the musical traditions and cultures of Inner Asia, more than a hundred articles in specialized revues and encyclopedia, and released 45 CD with academic notices.
Three of his books have been translated into Persian. Another one in Italian and Spanish. His ieldwork covers many traditions of Inner Asia. He did not only study the musical forms but also the Sui
and Shamanic rituals, and the cultural traditions related to musical practices. In the 70’s he studied
Persian classical music (on the lute târ and setâr) with the best masters, and later, in Karachi he
learned to play the Sui and trance Baluchi repertoire on the iddle sorud. He gave many concerts of
these traditions in Europe, USA and Asia.
About the Authors • 727
Linda Kiyo Fujie received the PhD. in ethnomusicology from Columbia University, New York,
and was a specialist in musicology of Asian music and Japanese music traditions. She has conducted ield research in Japan, mainly concerning urban festival and popular music. Her main
area of research were traditional Japanese music in the context of globalization and technology,
inter-cultural music making, the status of traditional contemporary music, and urban ethnomusicology. Other research interests included the music of the Shaker community in Maine and folk
music in Germany. She has taught ethnomusicology as assistant professor at Colby College, ME,
and gave lectures at the East Asian Institute of the Free University of Berlin. She regularly wrote
and delivered radio programs on topics related to traditional music on German radio. She also gave
lectures in ethnomusicology at the University of Bamberg and in Japanology at the University of
Erlangen-Nuremberg. Linda Fujie was co-editor of the journal the world of music from 1997–2002
and passed away on May 7, 2002.
Carl Gombrich is Programme Director of the Bachelor in Arts and Sciences (BASc) degree at
UCL www.ucl.ac.uk/basc/. He has degrees in Maths, Physics and Philosophy and studied piano
and singing at the Guildhall School of Music and singing at the National Opera Studio, in the UK,
where he was the Royal Opera House scholar. Carl Gombrich worked for four years as a professional opera singer before joining UCL in 2003 as a Teaching Fellow, teaching international students Physics and Mathematics and tutoring in Philosophy. Before his current role he was Principal
of the University Preparatory Certiicates.
Gerald Groemer is professor of music at University of Yamanashi in Kōfu, Japan. He is primarily
interested in the popular culture of Edo-period Japan, especially the music of itinerant performers.
His books include Bakumatsu no hayariuta (Popular Songs of the Late Edo Period, Meicho Shuppan, 1995), The Spirit of Tsugaru (Harmonie Park Press, 1999, revised edition in preparation), and
Goze to goze-uta no kenkyū (Blind Female Musicians and Their Songs, 2 vols., Nagoya Daigaku,
2007). Both of his Japanese-language studies were awarded the “Tanabe Hisao Prize” granted by
the Society for Research in Asiatic Music (Japan). In 2007 he was also awarded the prestigious
“Koizumi Fumio Prize” for his work in ethnomusicology.
Nathan Hesselink is Associate Professor of Ethnomusicology at the University of British Columbia. A performer, composer, and researcher of South Korean percussion traditions, he is the author
of P’ungmul: South Korean Drumming and Dance (2006, winner of the 2008 Lee Hye-Gu Award)
and SamulNori: Contemporary Korean Drumming and the Rebirth of Itinerant Performance Culture (2012), both from the University of Chicago Press.
Sydney Hutchinson is assistant professor of ethnomusicology in Syracuse University’s Department of Art and Music Histories. She is the author of the award-winning book From Quebradita
to Duranguense: Dance in Mexican American Youth Culture (University of Arizona Press, 2007)
and is also a former Humboldt Postdoctoral Fellow at the Berlin Phonogram-Archive. Her articles
have appeared in journals like Ethnomusicology, Journal of American Folklore, Centro Journal,
e-misférica, Folklore Forum, and Popular Music, and she is currently working on a book on the
performance of gender in merengue típico. In her spare time, she yodels and plays accordion, although usually not at the same time.
Margaret Kartomi received her Dr Phil in Musicology from the Humboldt University in Berlin in
1968 and is currently Professor of Music at the School of Music- Conservatorium, Monash University, Melbourne. She has carried out ieldwork in many parts of Indonesia in the past 40 years. Author of the books On Concepts and Classiications of Musical Instruments (University of Chicago
Press 1990) and The Gamelan Digul and the Prison Camp Musician Who Built it: An Australian
Link with the Indonesian Revolution (University of Rochester Press, 2002), her most recent book,
Musical Journeys in Sumatra, is in press with the University of Illinois Press.
728 • the world of music—Readings in Ethnomusicology
Dr Laura Leante is Lecturer in Ethnomusicology in the Music Department of Durham University, UK. She studied ethnomusicology at the University of Rome “La Sapienza,” where she was
awarded both her irst degree (1999) and her PhD (2003). Her doctoral research focussed on the issues of meaning and cross-cultural reception of music in British Asian repertories. Her research interests range over Indian classical and folk music, music of the South Asian diaspora, performance
analysis, music and globalization, popular music, and music semiotics. Since 2005 she has been
involved in a number of projects, investigating processes of meaning construction in music through
the analysis of performance and its reception, with particular focus on Hindustani classical music.
Karl Neuenfeldt was trained in Anthropology in Canada and Cultural Studies in Australia. He is
active as a music producer, researcher and performer and is currently an Associate Professor at Central Queensland University, at the Bundaberg Campus, Australia. He is co-editor of Perfect Beat
(The Paciic Journal of Research into Contemporary Music and Popular Culture).
Tiago de Oliveira Pinto, Head of the chair “Transcultural Music Studies” at the Institute of Musicology of the Franz Liszt School of Music Weimar and the Friedrich-Schiller-University Jena, and
Professor of the Post Graduate Program in Social Anthropology at the University of São Paulo,
Brazil. - Anthropological and musicological ieldwork in Brazil, Portugal and in African countries;
numerous scientiic publications concerning methodical issues, the transatlantic musical relations
between Africa and America, World Music, intangible cultural heritage etc. Teaching assignments
and temporary professorships at Universities in Berlin, Hamburg and Göttingen in Germany, and at
Kent Ohio, USA. Curator of Exhibitions in Europe and Latin America. Afiliated to the Brazilian
Ministry of Foreign Affairs for cultural diplomacy and activities as a music producer. Former President of the Brazilian Association for Ethnomusicology—ABET (2005–2007) and jury member for
the German Music Record Critic’s Award.
Chan E. Park received her PhD from University of Hawaii, and is currently associate professor of
Korean language, literature, and performance studies at The Ohio State University. Her specialization includes ethnography of Korean oral narrative and lyrical traditions including p’ansori, Korean
story-singing, and their place in the shaping of modern Korean literature, music, and theater. She
has published extensively on the theory and practice of oral narratology and poetics and its interdisciplinary connection with arts and humanities as a whole. Park has given numerous lectures, workshops and performances of p’ansori locally, nationally, and internationally. Her major publications
include: Voices from the Straw Mat: Toward an Ethnography of Korean Story Singing (University
of Hawaii Press, 2003), and Songs of Thorns and Flowers: Bilingual Performance and Discourse
of Modern Korean Poetry Series (Foreign Language Publications, 2010).
Svanibor Pettan is professor and chair of ethnomusicology program at University of Ljubljana,
Slovenia. Educated in former Yugoslavia (BA in Croatia, MA in Slovenia) and USA (PhD, Univ.
of Maryland), he gained ieldwork experiences in Africa (Egypt, Tanzania), Asia (Sri Lanka, Thailand), Australia, Europe (central and south-eastern, Norway), and North America (USA). Principal
themes of his studies are: music, conlict, and resolution; music of minorities; ethnomusicology of
central and south-eastern Europe; and applied ethnomusicology. His professional experiences include visiting professorships (Illinois, Maribor, Oslo, Pula, Washington, Zagreb) and scholarships
(Brown, Wesleyan), invited lectures and workshops at universities world-wide, and membership in
several international editorial boards. His most recent publications are: Applied Ethnomusicology:
Historical and Contemporary Approaches (co-ed, 2010), Kosovo through the Eyes of Local Romani
(Gypsy) Musicians (SEM, forthc.), Etnomuzikologija na razpotju (forthc.) and The Oxford Handbook of Applied Ethnomusicology (co-ed., forthc.). He currently serves as Secretary General of the
International Council for Traditional Music.
Rainer Polak (Cologne University of Music and Dance). Studies in Ethnology, African Linguistics, African History, and Graduate Studies at Bayreuth University. Participatory ieldwork among
About the Authors • 729
jembe players in Mali throughout the 1990s. Dissertation thesis on the context of urbanization,
commercialization and musical form in vernacular celebration drumming in Bamako. Dr. phil.
2002 (summa cum laude); best dissertation award German Association for African Studies (2003–
04). Post-doc project on the timing of jembe rhythms (German Research Council, 2006–07). Lecturing Africanist ethnomusicology, musical tuition and theory for professional jembe teachers, CD
editions, radio features, and concert/workshop tours with Malian artists at various universities,
conservatories, state broadcasts and schools of jembe music in Germany, Austria, Switzerland, and
the Netherlands (2008–2011). Present position: research fellow, Cologne University of Music and
Dance. Present project: empirical, cross-cultural study of swing feels in West African drum ensemble musics (German Research Council, 2011–14).
Regula Burckhardt Qureshi, FRSC, is Professor of Music and Director of the Canadian Centre
for Ethnomusicology at the University of Alberta. Anthropologist by training, she is also a cellist
and sarangi player who explores the role of music as expressive culture and social action. She has
published widely on Indian Music, Muslim culture, and diasporic musical practices. Her books
include Sui Music in India and Pakistan: Sound, Context and Meaning in Qawwali, the co-edited
Muslim Society in North America and Muslim Families in North America, Music and Marx: Ideas,
Practice, Politics, Master Musicians of India: Hindustani Sarangi Players Speak. At the University of Alberta, she built an Ethnomusicology Archive around her ield recordings of 5 decades,
then published South Asian Music in Canada: Heritage Adaptation, Transformation (www.fwalive.
ualberta.ca/SAMC/). Her concern with women musicians extends from the co-edited Voices of
Women: Essays in Honor of Violet Archer to her current book projects Female Agency and Patrilineal Constraints: Situating Courtesans in 20th Century India, and an edited volume Women Performers as Agent of Change: Perspectives from India.
Owe Ronström is professor in ethnology at Gotland University, Sweden. As an ethnologist he has
written many publications on music, dance, ethnicity, multiculture, age, and heritage, and has also
produced a ilm on Calus, a dance and music ritual in Rumania. He produced several hundreds of
radio broadcasts for the Swedish Broadcasting Corporation on Music From Around the World. He
is also active as a musician in the bands Orientexpressen, Gunnfjauns Kapell, and as director of
Gotlands Balalajkaorkester.
Toru Seyama was born in 1950 in Shimane-ken, Japan. He irst majored in history at Hokkaido
University but switched to studying musicology. He graduated from Osaka University of Arts. His
chief specialization is the ield of Japanese music, in particular, studies of shakuhachi and its music.
He has also been interested in computer-aided research since its inception. Subject areas of his ongoing research are transculturation in music, interaction between the East and West, and traditional
musical instruments in modernizing societies. He is teaching as lecturer in the Musicology Department of Osaka University of Arts.
Sonjah Stanley Niaah was an inaugural Rhodes Trust Rex Nettleford Fellow in Cultural Studies (2005) and a Senior Lecturer in Cultural Studies at the University of the West Indies (UWI)
at Mona. Sonjah Stanley Niaah has been teaching and researching Black Atlantic performance
geographies, ritual, dance, popular culture and the sacred, cultural studies theory and Caribbean
cultural studies for many years. She is the author of Dancehall: From Slave Ship to Ghetto (2010,
University of Ottawa Press), and editor of “I’m Broader than Broadway:” Caribbean Perspectives
on Producing Celebrity (Wadabagei, Vol. 12: 2, 2009). Stanley Niaah is a leading author on Jamaican popular culture, and Caribbean Cultural Studies more broadly, having published over twenty
articles and book chapters in numerous journals and edited collections locally, regionally and internationally. Dr Stanley Niaah currently serves as Vice Chair of the international Association for
Cultural Studies for which she coordinated the irst conference held in the Southern Hemisphere at
the UWI in 2008. A Jamaican nationalist and Caribbean regionalist at heart, she is involved in ef-
730 • the world of music—Readings in Ethnomusicology
forts to promote national and regional development through her work as Assistant Chief Examiner
for the Caribbean Examination Council Advanced Proiciency Examination in Caribbean Studies,
and her service on the board of the Museums Division of the Institute of Jamaica. She is the Editor
of Proudlesh: Journal of Afrikan Politics and Culture, Associate Editor of Wadabagei: A Journal
of the Caribbean and its Diasporas, and serves on the editorial boards of serveral others.
Jonathan P. J. Stock is currently on secondment as associate dean for research at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music, University of Sydney, Australia. More permanently, he works as professor
of ethnomusicology at the University of Shefield. His books include World Sound Matters: An Anthology of Music from Around the World (London, 1996), Musical Creativity in Twentieth-Century
China: Abing, His Music, and Its Changing Meanings (Rochester, NY, 1996) and Huju: Traditional
Opera in Modern Shanghai (Oxford, 2003), which has recently been reissued in Chinese translation. He has a volume forthcoming on music as part of everyday life in aboriginal Taiwan and a
further volume in progress on keywords in ethnomusicology. He is a former editor of the world of
music (2008–2009).
Jeff Todd Titon is a professor of music at Brown University, where he directed the doctoral program in ethnomusicology for 25 years. He was the irst ethnomusicologist to make the ethnographic
study of American vernacular music his research area, and among his publications are documentary ilms and recordings, hypertext-multimedia representations and simulacra, essays, and books
(including Early Downhome Blues, Powerhouse for God, Give Me This Mountain, and Worlds of
Music). From 1990-1995 he was editor of Ethnomusicology, the journal of the Society for Ethnomusicology. His deinition of ethnomusicology as “the study of people making music” is widely
accepted today; and he is known for his pioneering work in theorizing musical cultures as ecosystems, in reconciling scientiic and humanistic approaches to the study of music, and for theorizing
ieldwork as “visiting” and for advocating friendship and participatory action research in applied
ethnomusicology. He is currently writing a book on music and sustainability.
Thomas Turino is Professor of Music and Anthropology at the University of Illinois at UrbanaChampaign. He is author of the books Moving Away From Silence: The Music of the Peruvian Altiplano and the Experience of Urban Migration (University of Chicago Press, 1993); Nationalists,
Cosmopolitans and Popular Music in Zimbabwe (University of Chicago Press, 2000); Music as
Social Life: The Politics of Participation (University of Chicago Press, 2008); Music in the Andes
(Oxford University Press, 2008); and with James Lea co-edited the book Identity and the Arts in
Diaspora Communities (Harmonie Park Press, 2004). He is currently working on a book with Tony
Perman regarding the semiotic and phenomenological theories of C. S. Peirce as they pertain to
music.
Christian Utz was born in Munich, Germany, and studied composition, piano, music theory and
musicology in Vienna and Karlsruhe. Since 2003 he has been professor for music theory and music
analysis at the University of Music and Dramatic Arts in Graz/Austria. In 2007/2008, he was visiting professor at the National Chiao-Tung University (Xinzhu/Taiwan), and for musicology at the
University of Tokyo. In 2000, Utz received a PhD degree at the Institute for Musicology of Vienna
University with a thesis on New Music and Interculturality. From John Cage to Tan Dun (published
in 2002 by Franz Steiner Verlag Stuttgart/Germany). He has been guest editor of “Traditional Music and Composition”, an issue of the journal the world of music (Vol. 45/2, 2003), co-editor of the
Lexikon der Systematischen Musikwissenschaft (Laaber-Verlag 2010), and editor of the book series
musik.theorien der gegenwart [contemporary music theories]. His research ields include theory,
analysis and history of 18th- to 21st-century music, timbre-pitch-relationships in 20th-century music, music perception, intercultural history of composition, and new music in East Asia. Utz’ compositions have been performed by leading ensembles and musicians worldwide. Two CDs with his
About the Authors • 731
music for Asian and Western instruments and voices have been released in 2002 (Site, Composers’
Art Label) and 2008 (transformed, Spektral-Records).
Bonnie C. Wade is Professor of Music at the University of California, Berkeley, an ethnomusicologist specializing in East Asia, primarily Japan, and South Asia, primarily India. She is the author of
several books including Music of India: The Classical Traditions (Prentice-Hall, 1979), reprints by
Riverdale/Simon Schuster (USA, 1987) and Manohar (India, 1996), Khyāl: Creativity Within North
India’s Classical Musical Tradition (Cambridge University Press, 1984), reprint by Munshiram
Manoharlal (India, 1997), and Imaging Sound: An Ethnomusicological Study of Music, Art, and
Culture in Mughal India (University of Chicago Press, 1998). She twice has served as Chairman
of the Department of Music at Berkeley (1983-88; 2005–2009), Dean of Undergraduates (1992–
1998), and Dean of the College of Letters and Science (1994–1998). She was President of the
Society for Ethnomusicology (1999–2001), Vice President of the American Musicological Society
(1991–1993), and on the Directorium of the International Musicological Society (1987–1997). She
has been honored as holder of the Chambers Chair of Music and the Richard and Rhoda Goldman
Distinguished Chair in Interdisciplinary Studies.