Way back in December 2003, in what was only my 9th post to this blog, I generated a small eddy of argument over this:
Made me reflect for a bit on the absence of a ‘traditional music scene’ in Wellington, and perhaps in wider New Zealand. Traditional/cultural music groups exist, of course, but they’re pretty hard to find – I certainly never stumbled across more than one or two. (Although, now I think of it, the Cuba Street Carnival always seemed to summon them out of their shadowy corners.)
In New Zealand we have little in the way of local traditional ‘folk’ music that is shared with the community. Certainly, we have cultural music traditions that are strong – I defy any New Zealander’s spine not to tingle when a waiata rings out – but they are bounded into particular spaces and contexts. The Pacific Island musical traditions are likewise heavily tied into their particular communities. New Zealand’s European-descended pakeha seem to be largely happy to let the musical traditions of their various forefathers fade to nothing. The Asian communities are still a long battle away from being accepted as ‘part of New Zealand’ and their music likewise.
There was much discussion and a follow-up post with even more discussion. Lots of people challenged me, basically.
Anyway, I was thinking about that again when I read an interview with Stephen Fox, one of the PhD candidates at my workplace. It was printed in the DomPost a couple weeks ago but hasn’t turned up online, so here’s the excerpt I most want to quote:
He says pakeha today don’t have an equivalent to Maori and Pacific Island cultural arts. Pakeha folk arts and rituals, including annual celebrations and rites of passage, were replaced about the time of the Enlightenment, he says, although some survive in small pockets such as folk music and dance. “But they don’t have that deep core of information. With Polynesian dance, you have these massive genealogies. You are getting this massive dose on information of who you are within this cultural context.”
And that, I think, sheds some light on the position I was arguing back in ’03, and still have some sympathy for today. It also points at the value of, say, putting Maori cultural practice into play with Maori prisoners – they get information from it that pakeha wouldn’t get if someone turned up to make them morris dance, or sing “Thank You Very Much For Your Kind Donation”. (I kid because I love.)
Anyway. I really wish you could read the whole article, but you can’t. I can link you to Stephen’s website though.
I wonder, does this have to do with the professionalisation of music production and performance? Or the commodification of cultural phenomena in a capitalist society?
Most people in Pakeha culture believe they cannot sing and that playing instruments is hard. These difficult activities are either for dedicated hobbyists or for hired professionals. For them music is something to be consumed, not an activity they participate in.
I mean, folk music is about the folk. Everyday songs sung by everyday people. Once everyday people stop singing, the songs stop too. This makes me sad, but I don’t see how in a culture where entertainment is a consumption good it can be any different.
Much the same argument can be made about rugby.
Hmm. That sounds like a plausible story. I mean, the second and third paragraphs are, I think, almost unquestionably true – but whether that’s cause or consequence (or, probably, a mix of both) is way beyond my knowledge horizon.
Relates to one of the hobbyhorses I get going on when I get enthusiastic about role-playing games – they provide a way to take stories and narrative back from being something you receive like communion wafers through film and TV, and make them participative again.
And that makes me think, since you have several feet in several varieties of “folk music” with several ethnic groups – are you comfortable with the “massive dose of information vs. little information” soundbite above? i know Stephen’s real views are more considered than that, but – Batucada? Klezmer rebs? Brazealand? How do they all fit in?
That phrase is certainly food for thought. I think a proper response would merit a blog post of its own, which I will make shortly 😀 In brief though I think that there are differences between picking up a tradition which yours but not part of ones daily life (klezmer), a tradition is live but not yours (samba etc), or a tradition which is live but everyone’s now (eg jazz). But I need to brood on this now you’ve asked.
What about a shiksa picking up klezmer? 😉
Yours in cultural confusion
I always find that one odd.
Growing up, my siblings and I learnt the Scottish folk songs that my mother learnt from her mother and father, who learnt them from their parents and grandparents. (‘Comin’ through the rye’ was my mother’s mother’s mother’s favourite song.) I also learnt stories about the more colourful of my ancestors. I learnt about the places my ancestors came from to get to New Zealand.
My friends seemed to learn the traditional songs and often dances of their families’ cultures, too. I remember kids who did regular Greek dancing, particularly, but there were many others.
It all seemed pretty normal to me that we’d continue this sort of thing.
I’ve often felt that one reason for the general belief that Pakeha New Zealanders have no ‘culture’ is that we’re not one homogenous group. My Roumanian-descended best friend and I didn’t share our family songs with each other much. It would be hard to identify common stuff from our ‘folk’ and family musical traditions. That didn’t mean we didn’t have the traditions, though.
One thing that distinguishes families like my paternal grandfathers is the erasure of all pre-New Zealand memory. My dad will lament at length the difficulty of getting any family information from my granddad which he believes was deliberate caginess, and not mere forgetfulness. Leaving all that stuff behind in England, whatever “that stuff” was, was evidently important. I suspect that is not uncommon and that rather than passing on the songs of the old country, in some families they were near-deliberately suppressed.