The Black American Sound
In March 2021, I presented my paper titled “The Black American Sound: Examining the Influence of 1930’s Chicago on Classical Music At Large” at the Midwest Music Research Collective conference. (Click on the YouTube tab to watch the presentation!) Upon receiving feedback and reviewing this research, I’m left with perhaps more questions than I started with. How can we remedy the issue of canon? What can we learn from the popular canon? I’m sure as I continue to ponder this topic, the inquiries will continue to grow. For this brief reflection, I will focus on two lingering questions in particular: 1.) What would a Black canon look like? 2.) How will this research influence my work going forward?
To the first question, I am encouraged and energized by the idea of an all Black canon. The issue of who would be responsible for the gatekeeping is tricky: Black scholars may feel obligated to contribute to such a task, whereas non Black scholars may perpetuate the problems of the already established canon. One of the easiest ways the field of music theory can make good on its supposed newfound devotion to diversity, equity and inclusion is to introduce other musics in the theory classroom and curriculum; requiring students to take a course centered around Black music and Black theories would demonstrate to students that the inclusion of composers of color is a priority. Likewise, making history and theory courses centered around the white Western canon optional instead of required would work in tandem to amplify other musics in the classroom. This does indeed mean that there would be less time for Mozart, Beethoven and Bach, which might strike some as blasphemous. Ultimately, we as educators, scholars, and performers must expand, shift, and even abolish our current understanding of “music literacy,” in order to make room for different types of music experience, expertise and “genius.”
I continue to be fascinated by the idea of applying the theories of non-musicians to classical music; to allow anti-racist and feminist rhetoric into our field, why wouldn’t we consult the Black feminist literature of Kimberlé Crenshaw or bell hooks? I look forward to exploring their philosophies further during my time at the University of Michigan. However, even with a canon centered around Black voices, the core problem still remains: a canon implies a standard. Which Black composers are included, and which composers don’t make the cut? Who in the Black community gets to be the authority on Black music?
To the second question, as excited as I am to continue to develop these questions and ideas, there is also a deep-seated dread that I take with me into my next degree. Are people watching me? If I say something too radical, will I put a target on my back (if there isn’t already one)? Is there a space for me in the academy at all? How will my experiences of marginalization in music performance repeat themselves in music research? In what insidious ways will the discrimination contort itself so that it fits into academia? Where will protection and accountability come from? I’m comforted only by the hope that I will continue my own personal process of liberation through formal study, music and otherwise. I want to take advantage of the access I have to scholars and resources that make me a fuller, more aware and generous person, as well as a fuller, more aware and generous musician. Music has liberated me, and liberated people can liberate others.
