Showing posts with label death metal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death metal. Show all posts

2/19/14

Music as Politics

The connections between music and politics are making waves. In a time of much turmoil in the world, there are those in the music world that demand musicians take political stances. There are also those that believe music stands apart, as a message of peace, love, and hope, and should not enter specifically into politics.

Recently, this has come to the fore with the conflicts in Venezuela. A concert was given by the Youth Orchestra of Lara on February 12th, the same day that violent protests erupted. Gustavo Dudamel conducted the ensemble, and his decision to do so has caused heavy discussions in musical circles. Dudamel has been asked in an open letter by Gabriela Montero to stand with the Venezuelan people against the current regime. Dudamel responded that the concert was about "peace, love, and unity," and that the commemoration of February 12th as the beginning of the National Network of Youth and Children's Orchestras was not about supporting a regime, but about supporting those ideas.

I leave the debate on the political implications to those with a finer knowledge of political science than myself. There are those that would say not protesting means tacit agreement, that silence is the same as agreeing. I have a feeling certain artists, including those that have lived through major persecution, would disagree. My thoughts turn to Shostakovich and Prokofiev, who lived in a time when Stalin threatened their very lives if they wrote pieces deemed improper. In Alex Ross' The Rest is Noise, Ross spends an entire chapter on discussing the difficulties in creating music behind the iron curtain, and discusses how Prokofiev had friends in the theater and music world disappearing around him, and he feared for his very life. And yet Gabriel Prokofiev, in his incredibly skewed look at contemporary music, seemed to ignore those constraints placed upon his grandfather, and focused on all the beautiful, "traditional" music that Sergei Prokofiev created. Gabriel also ignored the amount of innovation that Sergei attempted to put in his compositions while working under serious constraints. 

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 Many different examples of the coincidence of music and politics are available throughout history. Jennie Wood wrote a brief article outlining three different examples following the imprisonment of members of Pussy Riot--Verdi's Nabucco, the rise of punk music in politics in America and the creation of Rock the Vote, and the group Rage Against the Machine. These are just three examples, one from the Romantic period, and two from modern perspectives, of musicians using their art for political ends. Matthew Shaftel makes strong arguments throughout his paper on Stephen Foster, showing the changes Foster made over time as he became more aware of the horrors of slavery. His style changed from one of Irish/Anglo influenced songs performed in black-face, to more traditional minstrelsy songs, to more culturally aware music, and finally to the later period of anti-slavery songs. Another great American folk musician, sadly recently deceased, Pete Seeger, wrote many political songs, starting with his involvement with the Young Communist League, to anti-WWII songs, Vietnam protest songs, and continued activism through his entire life.

As art music musicians, there's sometimes a Romantic ideal that we should hold ourselves aloof from these conflicts, that somehow our music serves a higher purpose above such base political leanings. However, this ignores important aspects of who we are as humans. All our actions are defined by our experiences, past, present, and future. Our experiences are in part dictated by the society and environment in which we are a direct part. For me to claim my music has nothing to do with society is to say that I have nothing to do with society. At Opera Veritatis, Joseph Jones talks about the effects of musical snobbery. He points to the usual suspects, including conventions like concert halls, clapping, talking, etc. To me these arguments are base, nothing more than symptoms of Jones' first statements--classical musicians holding themselves aloof from society. Jones goes on to defend some ideas of snobbery, and shows the double edged sword that is the attack on the establishment--ideas I agree with. The concert hall isn't the problem. Neither is the idea of quiet during the music. The problem is instead linked to a perception, a preconception about classical music. It's an idea, held generally by society, that classical musician are not a part of society, but held above it. Some classical musicians believe this. Some believe that this is caused directly by the music, specifically by difficult, complex, atonal works. I could not disagree more. It's about this poisonous perception held by society, and perpetuated by the fear mongers. "Classical music is dying!" is the rallying cry for changing the music, but not the perception.

We are all linked to society, which is linked to political ideas and our environment. When Valery Gergiev and Anna Netrebko spoke on being Putin supporters, connections were made to specific policies of Putin's regime. Writer's asked Netrebko and co. to publicly state their ideas on those various policies, in particular Putin's deplorable positions on homosexuality. Gidon Kremer, Daniel Barenboim, and Martha Agerich performed a concert in protest of Putin, and those that showed support for him. There was a call to boycott the Metropolitan Opera's production of Eugene Onegin because of the participation of Gergiev and Netrebko. There was an online petition to dedicate the opening to the LGBT community. The Met of course stated that because their ideals are artistic, they wouldn't make political statements. Never mind the connections between the plot of Eugene Onegin and Tchaikovsky's own life, especially his homosexuality and all the possible dire repercussions his personal life could have had on his public life. Tatyana, a young woman, meets Eugene Onegin and falls madly in love. She writes a letter to him, and he comes to her and tells her he's a man that cannot easily love, he can only offer brotherly affection in return, and that Tatyana should not be so open about her feelings. Is Tchaikovsky Tatyana, wanting to scream his love only to be admonished? Or is he Onegin, pressing his male lovers that they cannot be together because of societal constraints?

So never mind that, when the opera is taken in context of the composer and the time it was written, that it has political ideals attached to it. Never mind that Tchaikovsky was a homosexual and could not even begin to have even fulfilling private relationships for fear of the repercussions. By keeping to this Romantic ideal, holding classical music aloof, we lose possible interpretations of a work that can add depth.

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My own music is marked by the influence of society and my views of the world around me. Whether or not I am seeking to make a direct political statement, which I often do, or whether I am writing a piece of "absolute music," from a completely formalist approach, my experiences influence the work. Every piece of music I hear, every article, scholarly journal, book, or blog I read, and every movie, tv show, cartoon, or live stream influences me, and therefore my music.

Yesterday, Independence Square in Kyiv was attacked by police and pro-government forces. There had been a long standing protest in the square, led by Euromnaida, formed by the minority coalition of the government. The original conflict was between a pro-EU stance vs. a pro-Russia stance, an economic fight over which trade union to join. However, as time went on, it became more apparent that the fight had become about general rights, freedom, and a group of people feeling their voices and views were not being heard. What started as peaceful protests grew in size. The Ukrainian government's ties to Russia were strengthened, and the actions of the government and police are undoubtedly being, at the very least, influenced by Putin's ideas, if not Putin's regime. Police cracked down on the protests, leading to violence from the protesters (though there is, of course, debate on who started the violence). All this exploded yesterday as the protesters refused to leave the square, military forces began throwing incendiaries into the tents, lighting many on fire, and police and pro-government thugs moved into the square. There have been multiple deaths, mainly in the protesters, and also major targeting of journalists, even those outside the direct conflict. Security operations have begun cracking down all over the Ukraine (in Ukrainian, so you'll have to translate). I watched the live feed as the crackdown happened, horrified by what I saw. Just before the crackdown began, Ukrainian clergy sung a chant of peace. There are various songs written for, adapted, and used by the Euromaidan movement.

Sir Peter Maxwell Davies stated
A composer’s job is to bear witness...their contact with music has made them react, think, and development them with a potential which is something much much greater than becoming a mere consumer. In this respect serious music of all kinds is dangerous. It persuades people to not be a mere consumer. And therefore under present circumstances, it must be castrated, it if isn’t already tending that way.-- LINK
This is a view I hold to as well. Music, as all art, exists not in isolation, but as a series of mirrors. The quote adapted from Shakespeare is that "Art holds a mirror to nature." The real quote is from Hamlet, spoken by Hamlet to the troupe about to perform the play in front of his step-father. The purpose of the play was to get his uncle/step-father to react, to prove that he had, in fact, killed his father and usurped the throne:
Suit the action to the word, the word to the action, with this
special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature:
for any thing so o'erdone is from the purpose of playing, whose
end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold as 'twere the
mirror up to nature: to show virtue her feature, scorn her own
image, and the very age and body of the time his form and
pressure.--Hamlet 
Joseph Campbell expounds on the quote in his book The Power of Myth:
Shakespeare said that art is a mirror held up to nature. And that’s what it is. The nature is your nature, and all of these wonderful poetic images of mythology are referring to something in you. When your mind is trapped by the image out there so that you never make the reference to yourself, you have misread the image.

The inner world is the world of your requirements and your energies and your structure and your possibilities that meets the outer world. And the outer world is the field of your incarnation. That’s where you are. You’ve got to keep both going. As Novalis said, 'The seat of the soul is there where the inner and outer worlds meet.--Power of Myth, pg. 68
And that  is the truth of the matter. Art exists as not a single mirror to nature, but as a series of mirrors, reflecting the creator, society, the observer, the observers view of society, and on and on through various repetitions, recursions, refraction, and rarefaction.

Sir Peter Maxwell Davies stated in the above linked talk that his Third String Quartet (in the Naxos Series) directly shows his rage toward the invasion of Iraq in 2003. He himself was in the forefront of protests in London, leading the march. A political stance by a sometimes controversial composer, a man who anecdotes say was eating a swan when the messengers from the Queen came to tell him he had been placed as The Queen's Composer (eating swan is illegal in England, as they are owned by the crown).

Are these political and social actions those of a man sitting in an Ivory Tower, working on music that is apart from society? Or is the music just what Davies proposes at the end of his talk: dangerous. Dangerous to the established commercial enterprises, dangerous because difficult music requires thought, and thought is exactly what some people do not want from the masses.

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In Seth Godin's manifesto on education in America, Stop Stealing Dreams, he breaks down the history of the American school system well, dating from Horace Mann going to Prussia and adapting the system, and the idea that commercial enterprises were all for the common school because it taught (teaches) students to listen and respond to orders. The same can be said in the hierarchical structures of the large performing bodies--orchestras, bands, and choirs essentially must work together and under a unified artistic vision, normally the conductor's, to create a piece. As such musicians are taught to follow orders in those situations. At the same time, musicians are constantly asked to flex their muscles, make creative interpretations, and pursue their own artistic merits. This manifests itself particularly in chamber and solo performance. Music all at once serves the grand purpose--teaching students to follow orders--and fights against it, giving autonomy and creativity to the students. Because instrumental music is not as straight-forward as a pop song in its interpretation, it also does the same for the audience--following directions in the formal aspects of the experience in the concert hall, but stimulating the brain to make its own cognitive and artistic leaps, sometimes with guidance provided by a talk or program notes, sometimes without it.

Therefore, the very creation of classical music is, in some fashion, political. It functions outside commercial norms, and can be seen as dangerous to some schools of thought on the purpose of education, and the freedom of society. It also functions within the framework, particularly in the 6th-12th grade setting in America where the majority of music education is in large groups led by a single conductor. Students learn to work together and function as a societal subgroup, but ownership of the interpretation is normally reserved for the conductor--thus a struggle between an idealized socialistic interpretation (workers joining together for a common goal) vs. the capitalistic ideal of ownership (only one person can "own" the interpretation for the group--the "workers," in this case the musicians, do not define the interpretation). Even in solo and chamber interpretations, young students can fall into the habit of copying a recording, taking someone else's interpretation of the music rather than their own. How many young trombonists grow up thinking the proper interpretation of the Grondahl Concerto is the one performed by Christian Lindberg? Fights erupt over the definitive recording of Beethoven's Piano Sonatas--is it Schnabel, Barenboim, or Brendel?

Or, is the best interpretation your own?

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Popular music and politics can be traced through so many avenues. Some have been mentioned above--minstrelsy and folk movements in Stephen Foster and Pete Seeger; the punk movement; and Pussy Riot. The metal genres of Scandinavia also have a rich political history, most famously coming to the fore in the black metal scene in Norway. There are numerous documentaries of the groups involved--specifically Burzum and Mayhem. This documentary on Burzum is one of my favourites as it shows how the music itself, which was grounded basically in a youth culture, lashing out against societal norms by using the most shocking lyrics and imagery possible, got turned into a mass media frenzy on Satanism and destruction. It also documents the influence of one person, Varge Vikernes, and how he was able to influence fans, and even cause a string of copy-cat church burnings by people that were not truly Satanists, and only fans of Burzum because of the anti-establishment stances.

When I pitched by Fulbright, I went in knowing these facts, but I had a major question--was it really the influence of just a couple people that changed the history of metal in Norway? Sweden didn't have the same outbreak of violence. Remember, first, that this happened before the internet information age--bands became well known in their small scene through the trading of demo tapes, fanzines, and local music stores and clubs. Burzum was known in Sweden, but not embraced the same way, while Swedish groups such as At The Gates, In Flames, and Meshuggah were formed in the late 80s and early 90s, and had more popularity in Sweden. Norwegian and Swedish groups could trace common ancestry, to the English group Venom, the Swedish group Bathory, and of course to early metal group such as Black Sabbath. The lyric characteristics are similar, focusing on occult and Satanic imagery, death, pestilence, and metaphors for what the groups saw as corrupt groups (often Christianity, the government, and commercial society).

Yet Sweden kept it all in their music. My interview with Anders Björler was particularly enlightening. As a member of At The Gates, an early Swedish Death Metal group, he had been a part of the scene from the beginning. He spoke with some disdain about Varge Vikernes, and viewed the outward show of violence toward society as deplorable. As I've gone to shows, and met more death metal musicians here in Stockholm, I see the same ideas. There's an angst, an anti-establishment feeling, and yet the shows are full of happiness, head banging, and some of the best mosh-pit etiquette I've ever seen. There's a respect for each other, a communal experience of an obvious niche crowd, somewhat alienated from society, that warms my heart. The concerts remind me so much of classical concerts, with their specific traditions, rules, behaviors, and even dress. Metal musicians are also snobs, able to rattle off band after band, since songs from local groups I've never encountered, and even give the oddly dressed fellow a bit of a sideways glance--I don't own the standard accoutrement of metal, the leather jacket with band patches, the chains, or the the tight pants, so I go to concerts in my standard dress of jeans, a tshirt, and a plain hoody. I do, however, have the obligatory long hair and beard.

And yet, after just a couple concerts, I started having conversations with audience members. They're a welcoming group, understanding that if you've wandered into the club, and you're obviously paying attention to the music, drinking, and enjoying yourself, than you are one of them. There is, after all, nothing wrong with a bit of elitism. When I ask questions about metal, they assume I know the history, that if they reference Bathory, I will know the reference. Or when various audience members in the know start calling for covers of obscure songs by bands I've never heard of, that I'll accept that cover as readily as I'd accept a new song. The traditions can be a barrier, but only to those that are afraid of different traditions, refuse traditions, refuse change, and generally refuse to be met on any ground but their own.

The music is politically charged, the musicians have their own opinions, spouting what commercial companies and Sir Peter Maxwell Davies would both term as "dangerous" music; music that doesn't fit within the societal norms. Even if the lyrics weren't anti-establishment, it'd be inherently political by standing musically apart from what is deemed acceptable by society. Even through inaction, a group is political, just by creating music that is individualistic.

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By now, I hope all of you reading this post have seen my viewpoint on music and politics as being linked, in the same way that all people are included in society, even if that inclusion is by exclusion. A stance is a stance; for, against, abstaining, redirecting, true, or false.

And, perhaps one of the biggest problems we're having in classical music today is that we try, try ever so hard, to not have a stance, to remain aloof, to take this Romantic ideal that we are somehow above society. This is not reflected in the music. It is only somewhat reflected in the traditions--I do not hold to beliefs that a raised stage is a physical symbol of a separation between performers and audience. It is a practical matter of sight lines. I do not believe that the idea of having a traditional garb to go to the symphony is the issue, though the social contexts of that garb being of the upper class is a problem. I do take issue with the perception that one must dress a certain way to attend any event--I've been to the NY Phil in a tux, and to the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra in a t-shirt. I still don't own a band t-shirt nor a leather jacket, yet still go to metal shows.

Are we going to let common (mis)conceptions rule our decisions to change tradition? Or, perhaps, we could instead fight against the (mis)conception? Or is it just easier to change ourselves to what society thinks it wants, than to provide society what we believe it needs?

I asked the same question in regards to post-secondary education. The troubles I see in academia--bloating of administration; loss of full-time positions; the push for low-paid, part-time, unprotected workers (adjuncts) to take over teaching--as symptoms of a fundamental switch in the philosophy of post-secondary education. The students are now consumers, which means they dictate what is being provided. A student survey can get an adjunct fired, even if the student lied on the survey. University sanctioned social events demand more money the expanding classrooms. Larger classes are ok, as long as there is more study space for students to socialize.

What is the purpose, then, of post-secondary education?

And do the consumers know what they're buying?

Curators serve a valuable purpose in examining not just what the target group may want, but also providing what the curator believes needs to be included. Professors and administrators are curators in academia--but, to my mind, only one of those two groups is actively curating; the other is pandering, hoping to stay relevant with the new, hip generation, by giving them what they want. It's a symptom of another deep issue; the commercialization of education. When education becomes not about the mission, but about money, the where does the mission fall?

So, two questions: what is the mission?; and how does the mission related to the current commercialized environment?

These two questions are also important in classical musical establishments.

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Those two questions are inherently political. As soon as we delve into the domain of human values, we move directly into politics. Political parties are manifestations of the ideals of various groups. In a democracy, these groups vie for power based on popular opinion. In the American two party system, we see groups moving back and forth, pandering to different bases, changing their views, and telling people what they want to here. In Kansas, a recent bill was pushed that would have enabled discrimination of public and private services to homosexual couples by people who held a religious belief against homosexuality. The bill, of course, stalled and was thrown out. It was not written by anyone in Kansas, but by a think-tank group that is proposing similar bills all over the US. Even if the bill would have been enacted, it never would have stood against an appeal, as similar cases have lost throughout the US. But, by proposing the vote, certain politicians from conservative areas have solidified their standing with their conservative constituents. They fought the good fight, and lost. This is the essence of pandering--the officials didn't know what was in it before sending it off, they didn't really care, all they cared about was the fact that they knew it would please a base group, which would lead to re-election, and continuing to have their place of power.

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Classical music, and its representative organizations, are inherently political. This is because the music is tied to society, affects specific individuals, who place the music within their own frame of context, influenced by their knowledge and past experiences, and then experience the music as a personal event based upon their own ideas, ideals, and morals. The same is true of groups--whether or not the Met dedicated their opening to the LGBT community or not, or even if they had refused to answer, their reaction would have been political in nature. Their answer as it stands, is political in nature--by saying you're not political, you're taking a political stance.

Saying you're outside society, does not mean that you are.

And, perhaps, that leads to some of the deepest issues some classical music groups are having. I've said often and repeatedly that I write music based in society. I've stated that my audience, the final critic of my piece, is me. That is 100% true. As I write music, I can only hope to show myself in my music, my place in society, and the ideas I wish to expound upon. By focusing on the Other, an outside personage, I can only hope to portray a partial picture--complete understanding of another person is something that is nearly impossible.

But even though my work is mediated always through myself, it does not mean that I somehow hold it outside society. My music is inherently a part of society because I am a part of society. My music is inherently political because I have specific ideals and morals that can enter my work either consciously or subconsciously. I am not the titular anti-protaganist in [Untitled] at the beginning, saying my music is about nothing. I'm the composer who, by the end, has realized that even by striving to be absolute, he is influenced by his environment, surroundings, and society. Just because I do not set out to write a piece of music that has a distinct story, does not mean the music will not tell a story.

Because, for each individual, the music will have a slightly different meaning, as understood through their experiences and knowledge.

That is my ultimate philosophy on music-there is no inherent story in instrumental music, but something constructed through experiences, some shared throughout societies (local and global), traditions, and personal ideals. All music can be political, all arts groups are political, and the greatest transgression we're making isn't in the music itself, but in the preconception that, somehow, the arts are outside society. It's not the concert that alienates people, it's our own minds.

 


12/6/13

An Interview with Anders Bjorler

An interview with Anders Björler

December 4th, 2013, I headed to Gothenberg, Sweden. I decided to take the train. It’s an easy form of travel in Sweden, relaxed, and easy to navigate. I woke up feeling a little under the weather,  and was a bit worried the travel wouldn’t do well for me. I’m a piss poor traveler. My weak immune system deals poorly with recycled air.  I slept most of the ride, read Game of Thrones the rest. My questions were already prepped, so it would be nothing more than brushing up once I got to the hotel.

The hotel is decidedly Swedish. The bed is small, with a mattress pad. The hotel is a bit off the main roads, tucked into apartment buildings. Still, it’s fairly nice, especially for the price. Worth the 500 meter walk from Central Station.

Before going to meet Anders, I brushed up on my metal. I listened to some At The Gates and The Haunted. I jotted down some specific lyrics I might be interested in asking about. Really, I already knew the gist—folk influences, social and political themes in the music, asking about the significance of the use of various calendars in his new album Antikythera.

It’s hard to distill nearly three hours of continuous conversation. I had decided to forgo recording the interview and had decided on a more narrative syle of write up instead of a transcript. Because, for me, this experience wasn’t about the exactitude of the answers, nor my memory.

We met at a Starbucks in Central Station. I was sipping an Americano to warm my hands. Sweden gets damn chilly when the sun sets, and it sets damnedly early.  Of course it was a Starbucks Americano, so it tasted terribly. I saw Anders through the door, he came in and we shook hands. Then the talking began.
He asked me about my project, what I do. I asked him about music he liked. The first music he mentioned was Prokofiev.  Then Shostacovich. Next Penderecki, specifically Symphony 3. Anders mentioned he loved the Russian aesthetic, so melancholy and dark. I talked about all the classical musicians that liked metal, admittedly for similar reasons, as well as the great playing.

Next Anders asked me if I was looking into folk music. I mentioned I was, and that I was interested in folk influences. As my guess and “preliminary research” showed, it is indeed an influence for some metal groups. The ones I thought of particularly (In Flames and At The Gates) it definitely was. Anders grandfather played violin and folk music was a part of his life. I’d heard as much in interviews, but it doesn’t mean it actually goes into the music.

But it’s definitely there. If you listen to his latest album you can hear it most clearly. The similar melodies, the melodic minor scales. You can also hear guys like Esbjorn Svensson, Prokofiev, and all his work in metal music. Anders told me that influences come from all over, from everything he hears, so he can’t pin down any while he’s working. There are major influences, like folk tunes and classical music that are apparent, and which he admits to listening to on a regular basis.

I asked about the title of his album, Antikythera and the relationship of the song titles. Most of the songs are based on different types of calendars; the Callipic Cycle, the Saros Cycle, and Lunar and Solar eclipse. There’s one titled “223” which is how many gears one device had. The connection to the music? It’s a title, nothing more. Anders told me he had watched a documentary on the Antikythera mechanism and thought it was really interesting. To keep all the songs tied together, he picked different names of calendars. The material itself wasn’t worked out with the title specifically in mind. It may be fun to see if there are some odd occurrences, moments when the amount of years in a cycle correspond to some musical moment. Is there something about the numbers 76, 18, and 54 subconsciously in the music? I highly doubt it, but some musical scholars will spend their time mapping it. I, for one, will take Anders at his word, and accept the music for what it is without dissecting subconscious compositional methods.

The music he worked out in a short time—the general form and ideas were put together in two weeks. I joked that before the Fulbright began, I never could have believed it possible to put together 40 minutes of music in a couple weeks, but when you have time. And time is what Anders has, devoting it to working on music, making documentaries, and having beers with a random American wanting to ask him questions.
We later talked about the general attitude toward folk music. Anders told me that most everyone hears the music at some point. It’s taught in schools, but then promptly forgotten. The general populous tends to like the latest pop from America…or slightly older than the latest. Folk is as niche in Sweden as most everyone else, but there’s at least a general awareness.

We talked a bit about folk music in America. How there’s folk music from later immigrants, music from Ireland, Sweden, Italy, and Poland. And how there are distinctly American folk, like spirituals, American hymns (I thought of shape note hymns and American prayer books), and even loosely jazz. But I told him how so much of that isn’t attached to the everyday culture of the “majority” of Americans, the white middle and upper class. That when they hear folk, it’s Woody Guthrie and Bob Dylan, the newer folk music. Even older collectors, like Charles Seeger or Alan Lomax aren’t as well known. It’s not that these people aren’t completely unknown, but compared to Sweden where if I bring up the Epistles of Fredman, songs by Carl Michael Bellman from the late 18th century, it’s at least known. Of course it may help that there’s a Bellman beer which prints the epistles on the back. The beer itself isn't all that good, but the mass produced beers of Sweden aren't all that good...

And, of course, lyrics had to come up. With groups like Coven, with Jinx Dawson saying that she was a Satanist and meant the words. Then Black Sabbath and later the new wave of British metal and groups like Slayer where the lyrics were more about obliquely about social norms, fighting against perceived ills, and rebellion. There was a punk aspect to the lyrics. It was less about the paganism of Norway, though the imagery was always there.

Same with the Swedish metal scene. They wanted to speak, be heard, and protest…something. I asked about what they protested, and Anders talked about a combination of having the freedom to choose and being socialist. They didn’t want to system of ownership inherent in Capitalism, something which was spreading in Sweden at the time. And yet, they wanted the ability to choose their own path, something that the social system in Sweden somewhat prevents. Everyone should be equal in Sweden, share the wealth and opportunities. Some people, especially younger generations, seem to rail against this. They want the freedom, the opportunity. Metal music expresses this, in its abstract way. There’s often talk of fighting imperialism, being forced into horrible situations, and general melancholy and unhappiness. The longer I’m in Sweden, the more I understand…It’s not just the winters that can cause this issue (though they are cold and dark).

Of course, I contrasted this with life in America. What so many young Swedes see as opportunity in America is a false conception. We talked about the level of capitalism, quipped about how the current conservative Swedish government is still more left than the farthest left group in America.

What about all the “devil talk.” It’s just that, talk, symbolism for other things. Anders told me about how secular Sweden is. He group in a secular household, and didn’t care one way or another about religion. If there was a message regarding that in the lyrics, it was a message of “look at all the world is learning! Open your eyes and accept all that’s happening.” Less a condemnation, and more a “C’mon guys, the world is a big place.” He contrasted this to Norway, which seemed to be a more religious country. There was more open rebellion against Christendom then, but they were more driven by Paganism—as Varg Vikernes put it, “They (the Christians) desecrated our graves, our burial mounds, so its revenge.” It’s a long time to hold a grudge, but, for some, that can happen.

Metal has a link then with personal rebellion and expression. It’s a very personal form of expression, as most music is. It reminded me of punk music, but instead of straight forward speeches there is complicated symbolism. Instead of raucous cacophony there is intense virtuosity. The message can get more obscured, with the vocal styles and the poetry, but it is there…at least in The Haunted and At The Gates, and with some of the groups Anders is more familiar with.

The concert environments themselves seemed different though. I recounted for Anders my experience in a metal club in Stockholm with a trash band. Everyone was so happy. The people in the mosh pit were smiling. Crowd surfing was happening with laughing. After an encore, the bass play dove into the audience and was carried all the way to the merch table by the two largest men in the club. They dropped the bass play, everyone full of laughter and smiles. I compared this to  in America, when I’d go to a pop metal group, like Bullet for My Valentine, and see a mosh pit where people came out bloody. When going to OzzFest (which Anders played in 2005 with The Haunted) and seeing the outfield destroyed at then Deer Creek Music Center. He told me he saw the same thing happen when he went on tour with The Haunted. I asked about if he saw a difference in the scenes between American, Sweden, and Norway. He said it seemed more laid back in Sweden.

And, of course, it came to the Norwegian Black Metal guys…or rather, guy. Anders described the whole thing as more of a fluke, a few guys that took things way too far. Of course everything was really tied to one band, Mayhem, and really around one iconic figure, Varg Vikernes. Is it so much of the negative hype really tied to this one group? Of course there are tales of Ozzy Osbourn and the bat, the displays put on by GWAR, and other extreme metal bands, but it seems the death metal scene in Sweden wasn’t into that. Instead, they let their music do the talking, with political lyrics.

We went back to talking about folk music. Since I started drafting this, Anders has been so kind as to send me links to tons of Swedish folk music, both traditional and new takes. I’ve listened to a few as I type, but I’ll have to give it a more concerted listening. I can hear the influence of the melodies, the sad melancholic tunes that Anders described. The simple melodies, the layering of voices; now that I’m becoming aware of the music, the sounds are becoming more identifiable. It’s interesting how this heritage can become part of the culture.

This was a meeting of two musicians, both passionate about what they do. We connected over beer (I had one too many), spoke of many things, and I learned more about Swedish culture and the connections to death metal in three hours than I had from watching and reading all the interviews online, and going to the concerts. And what I learned that was most important?

That metal, like all music, is a deeply personal way of communication. Even composers who are modernists, use stochastics, chance, or improvisation, or ignore all “programmatic” ideas of their pieces are still trying to communicate something they find deep about their existence. This may be the Duvel talking, but I found it invigorating. You never know what will happen when you meet a stranger for beer. This time I walked away a wiser and better man.

Thank you Anders Björler for taking the time to meet with me.

Also, a special thanks to Johan Lundgren. He sent out the email to Anders and got this rolling. Also, his pickups are more than a little amazing and famous. If you’ve heard Meshuggah, you’ve heard his pickups. http://www.lundgren.se/

And a special thanks to Björn Juhl, who put me in contact with Johan. His pedals are also well known, under the moniker of BJFe designs. Check out some here http://www.bearfootfx.com/

And these aren’t ads, they really are thank yous! Moving across the Atlantic, setting myself up in Stockholm, and getting things rolling has been a crazy enterprise! Without Björn Juhl and Johan Lundgren, this wouldn’t have happened.





11/16/13

Metal or Classical Music concert?

***Note--everything below is from limited anecdotal evidence from my time in Sweden so far.

I'm still learning a lot about the local metal scene here in Stockholm, but I'm finding trends very quickly. Last night I went to a different club, Rocks, to catch Obscyria, Nominon, and Protector. Three bands, three different starting decades, three bands that had a lot in common...

with classical music.

I wonder how many scoffed when I said that? There have been studies done showing links in mentality. There are discussions on internet forums with people tossing out theories as to why there's a link. There are programs jumping up in metal studies, a conference dedicated to metal music, and some nice journalism with interviews comparing backgrounds of musicians from both walks of life.

But this isn't new information. I came to Stockholm looking for these influences, as well as folk, myths, and political statements.

What I'm finding is different, but equally fascinating.

When I showed up for my first show at Püssy A Go Go, I wasn't sure what to expect. Fellow-Fulbrighter Tom Ward is an avid metal fan, and having already been in town the year new the scene knew where to go. Can't even begin to thank Tom enough for pointing me to the right clubs. We met for that first concert, and he gave me some info: expect everyone to be pretty respectful; the moshpit is up front, but it's more fun than insane; for how hardcore the music is, it's laid back.

I wasn't sure what to expect. You hear stories like this from nearby Norwegian bands, or think about the first Ozzfest when it came to Indy, and how the entire center section of the GA grass section turning into a vortex of death, followed by the majority of sod being pulled up and thrown around. These are the experiences we hear about on the news, or see in person--yes, I was at that Ozzfest, got hit by sod, ran in the vortex, flipped off a camera, and a Coal Chamber shirt that had "Don't Fuck With Me!" printed on the back. Said shirt later got me in trouble...and sadly, I have no idea where it went.

But, as I'm finding out, it's not really how the Stockholm scene is dealing with these metal bands. Instead, I see correlations to classical music concerts.

1) Attire. Classical music has it's "specific formal wear." Onstage with an orchestra, it's a tux. And, boy, are there people who hate tuxes. So then we get the newer chamber groups, with flashy modern dress garb. You end up with two groups--concert black, which now means an all black clothing, something a little nice, but no suits; or black with flair, some sort of bright accented colour. No matter what people try to do with classical music, we still end up conforming to our little groups. And that's not always a bad thing.

Go to a metal concert with three bands, what do you see? Everyone on stage is probably wearing a band shirt--and not necessarily for their band. In fact, it's often NOT for their band. In the audience? Band shirts, leather jackets, leather vests with patches from a hundred bands. Surprisingly uniform. Sadly, I left my couple band tees in the US, and I tend to leave my hoody on, so I stand out like a sore thumb. If it wasn't for my long hair and bushy beard, I probably wouldn't fit in at all. Though, that's more a stereotype and not something I see that often.

I'm seeing this less as a class issue--there is of course issues of class attached to types of clothing. I always chaffed at wearing tuxes because I am most definitely not of a class of people who would normally wear a tux. And I have a thick neck.

I'm seeing it as a form of bonding, creating a unique experience, and adding to the "ritual" of the occasion. Shared dress, shared mannerisms, a community made manifest in the physical world.

2) Respect. It's interesting, there's always a fight about not knowing when to clap, and people feeling awkward at a classical concert because they don't understand the conventions. And then there are interruptions via cell-phone, no flash photography, and other rules. As a classical musician, I never cared if people clapped between movements, even though it can ruin the flow...and I think part of that falls on performers on how they choreograph the movement changes. People regard orchestra concerts as stuck up and stiff. During many new music concerts, the paradigm has shifted to a more relaxed attitude. But, one should still be respectful (don't yell in the middle of the song)

Flash to a metal concert in Stockholm. Crazy concerts, intense bands, screaming, headbanging, photography...Well...kind of.

There's definitely headbanging. The majority is up front. Wanna headbang? Join the group doing it up front! Want to do it where you are? Also fine, but keep to your own area.

Screaming! Haven't heard it at all. Not even a lot of talking during songs--there's a little, usually in the next room (where the bar is). But if you're in the live room, you're there for the music. There's no need for a convention saying "Don't talk," because the people there aren't talking--they're attending to the music. There's some singing along, but not often (Well, except when someone is pulled on stage).

Mosh pit! What's a metal show without a mosh pit?!?

I've been in moshpits in the US. They're grungy, nasty things--elbows and fists fly. I take the glasses off when I go in because they will come flying off...and then someone will step on them, then punch me in the face.

Ok, hyperbole...a bit. But even for tame "pop-metal" groups like Bullet for My Valentine, the mosh pits can be dangerous places.

A most pit in Stockholm? Well, there's a lot of head banging. Then someone will start pinballing, hitting shoulders. Arms are tucked. Fists and elbows are not flying. There's shoving...and laughing. Lots of laughing. in fact, I've never been to concerts with so many happy people.

When someone crowd surfs, it's amazing. The group comes together and holds the person up. There's no jerk trying to pull him down. There's no "inappropriate" touching. When someone stage dives, they are caught and carried, laughing, the length of the club...to be carefully set down with everyone involved almost falling over in pure mirth.

I actually almost have a tear in my eye because, to me, that scene was beautiful.

It was pure respect and fun. Here are these guys, screaming about death, murder, Satan, dark pacts, etc...and they're all smiling ear to ear and laughing. Even when the bar got so packed I couldn't move, and there was some light shoving to get to the bar...it was always light, with a nod and a smile.

Respect, pure and simple. The people have come to hear this music, with all its thrash and doom. And that's what they want to do. If you're at the bar, talk away. If you're screaming in the club, you get a few looks--no shooshes or someone yelling "STFU," but a look of "Hey, aren't you here for the concert?"

Oh, there is flash photography, but no one seems to mind. But then, for all those groups, playing their music is second nature--you'd have to rip the guitar from their hands to have them miss a note. With a new music group with three or four rehearsals to put together the latest "new complexity" piece, it takes every ounce of concentration. So, I'll defend the "please, as few distractions as possible."

3) Small groups, made up of other musicians and a few hardcore followers.

I went to a new club last night. I saw a ton of the same people. Some have even started smiling at me in recognition (Soon, I'll be in the group!). And, as I'm finding out, many are in their own bands, or were in bands. Then there are the followers--obvious family members, or significant others. Then, there are the people like me, who will go to just about every concert. All in all, for the concert last night which was packed, probably 150 people. Considering how "big" Nominon and Protector are (in the niche), it'd seem like there'd be more...

But it's important to remember, even in the land of metal, it's still niche. I still got made fun of by a  prick in a rugby shirt coming out of a club--"Have a good time? Rock on! " "Hej hej! Thanks, the concert was awesome. Have a pleasant evening " Pretty sure he was more confused by my reaction than I was surprised by his. It's a niche that's demonized (though not as much in Sweden), and misunderstood (everywhere).

This sounds so much like what we hear in the "Crisis of Classical Music" conversation. The audience is getting older. We're playing mostly to ourselves. Any slight deviation from the norm will scare the audience, and we'll lose them. Find alternate venues and ways to put your music on!

It's interesting, because metal takes the opposite approach in some ways. They've stuck to their traditional attitudes--death metal from the late 80s sounds a lot like death metal being written now. They still play tiny, hole in the wall clubs...when, honestly, the concert last night would have done well someplace a bit larger. Definitely someplace where more than 75 people can be in the live room. 


The audience is the same, and yet, the metal audience doesn't shrink, it stays about the same size. Why? Two bands I've seen were pretty young, Obscyria and Insane (Sweden, not Italy). New music, traditional modes, younger audience following the younger bands. Why are younger generations still interested?

No answers, just questions to ponder.

4) Traditionalism. You won't find two groups more based in the traditional.

When Opeth came out with "Heritage" it was automatically decreed as not being death metal, not even really being metal. Maybe prog metal or melodic metal, but definitely not death metal. This upset some of their base. It also brought in the audience for more prog metal styles. Yes, they are different audiences, though there is overlap (just like the audience for Brahms may not be the audience for Mozart).

As musicians grow, change, and evolve, there's push-back from the traditional crowd. There's a reason bands from the late 80s like Protector still tour actively--the traditional group loves them. They have the attire, lyrics, amazing instrumentals, screaming. If there's a derivation, it's something else.

Orchestra vs. new music. Death metal vs. prog metal. Cassettes vs CDs. Live concerts vs. streaming. It's the question of traditional vs. progressive. The fight over attire can be seen in this light. The evolution of the music itself can be seen this way.

There will always been audience for the traditional. There will always been an audience for progressive. There will, invariable, always be an audience for any given style or genre of music. It may not be a large audience, audiences will overlap, and people's tastes are fickle, but there will be an audience. And there will always been an audience for concerts that like to mix everything up.

And, yes, I still see cassettes being sold at concerts.

********************

These are just a few points where I'm seeing nice correlation. There's also a very good chance these ideas could be spread to broader generalizations of how people interact with music in general. In fact, there are at least three or four general theories above that I've encountered in my studies. But, sometimes, more specific (thought still broad) examples can help see that we're not alone.

That is perhaps the biggest issue I'm having in the "musician of the 21st century" talk--too often the conversations seem to have blinders on; we think the challenge is unique to classical music; that it's the first time in history; that we have to reinvent the wheel.

But what's happening is not isolated to classical music. Trends, ideas, and experiences are much more widely spread than we are taking into account. We do need to prepare classical musicians for modern trends in music--we're already far too late. And we should be looking to other groups to see how they've kept their scene together, melding traditional and progressive. All this without reinventing the art-form itself.

9/18/13

Make your own schedule

I arrived in Sweden just shy of 4 weeks ago. The first week was, more or less, a wash. I was a little ill when I arrived, probably some bad food while traveling. Then it took me a while to get used to the time change.

But things are finally rolling. I've got all the access stuff now, spent some time in the studio at KMH, and a little time at EMS. Have to make a call today to setup a time for my first interview. And I've been doing all sorts of writing, composing, and listening.

One of the hardest things in this situation is to come up with your own schedule. I've been released into the wild, provided a stipend, and told "do your project however you'd like." There's no school, no specific job, not even the standard freelancer setup, which creates its own (sort of) routine of applying for jobs and living off Ramen, with spurts of extreme activity.

No, I'm just sitting here, now, with no set agenda for the day, just need to call someone back. And the only reason I have to do that is because we arranged this last week, when I called at an arbitrary time.

So, what HAVE I been doing then? How do I get anything done? For those that know me, you probably know I like some semblance of structure and regularity, with enough variances to make life "interesting." When left to my own devices (like over the summer with nothing pressing, just "waiting till I left") I'll play read, play video games, watch videos, TV, or the occasional movie, and use as little energy as possible. When faced with a few months, that can be alright...especially after incredibly hectic schedules before Freelancers and teachers, you know what I'm talking about. Work 9 months at a grueling pace, you need that month or two off to just recharge.

When faced with a year, and a nebulous project and far off deadlines, I had to change my "normal living." It was time to make a schedule.

People have asked me what I do day to day. So, here it is, in all its "glory."

Morning- Read, write, and listen. I often start with blogs and news; mostly music and arts related, with the occasional political bit. I'll write a blog post, or work on the libretto to my opera, or write music...sometimes I flit between them, working for an hour or two on one activity then switching. Other times, one activity encompasses my entire morning/early afternoon. I also do my food shopping in the morning, to avoid crowds.

Afternoon- Lunch, catch up on life stuff, make phone calls/contacts, and switch activities. This is when I usually do laundry, clean up my room, or if I have an errand in the city, head out.  Most of my contacts for my project expressed more availability in the mid-afternoons, so that's when I focus on that stuff. On days when I don't need to do any of that, I switch activities. If I spent the morning reading arts news and blogs, I'll switch to writing music. Or if I wrote on my libretto all morning in silence, I'll pull up my ever increasing list of pieces to study, and listen away, jotting notes. Whatever it is, I try to keep a solid focus on working till at least 5 or 6 every day. Blog posts also usually go live in the afternoon--I usually write them in the morning, save them, and come back and read them before posting.

Evening- No working. Seriously. I'll allow things into early evening--I worked until about 7pm yesterday--but I try to just cut it off. I usually practice my Swedish in the evening using Rosetta Stone. I'll pull out a more leisurely reading material, or something light that "could" be research, but probably not. Right now I'm devouring various folk and fairy tales from around the world, as well as reading Formalize Music by Xennakis and The Soundscape by R. Murray Shafer. The last two aren't really about my "research" and I enjoy them too much to be considered "work." I'll also watch videos/TV, or play video games. If I've been active all day, I'm usually dead by 11pm.

Also, sometimes, I do get sudden spurts to work in the evenings. If they come, I don't fight them, unless it's right after dinner. My mind really does need regular breaks. Most of the work I do when I "power through" something is utter rubbish and I just have to redo it in the morning.

That being said, I have had all sorts of little projects to go with my big project. It's hard to see a goal that's either checked once a year (dissertation) or twice a year (Fulbright). But I've got a commission I need to finish ASAP, just finished mastering a forthcoming jazz album, and, of course, job searching and apps. Yes, jobs are already being posted for next fall.

So, my schedule isn't that formally structured. It's not "MWF from 7-9 read arts news and blogs. 9-10 blog. 11-1 compose. 1 lunch..." and so on. I leave it somewhat loose. But I do force myself to work, listen, and study in the mornings, switch it up in the afternoons, then relax in the evening.

And, if something gets off, like this morning and working, then things get shoved around. I'll work this afternoon for longer. But today was an odd exception--woke up at 5am and couldn't get back to sleep. The level of groggy at 5am after 5 hours of sleep was...insurmountable. I actually laid in bed TRYING to sleep until almost 8. Seriously. I'd lay for 20 minutes, grab my phone and read a blog, try to go back to sleep for 30 minutes, read a political article...ugh.

Also, a few people I've been talking to asked what I've been "studying" during my study time. So, below, in all it's glory, is a list of all the pieces/albums I've been studying, as well as some articles and books. The reading list, btw, doesn't include all the blogs, news, etc that I read. Just the more "academic." And there's a bunch missing, because I'm waiting to reveal my first interview to the entire public...though I'm guessing a fair number of you have heard already.

So, what have I learned? I definitely need this structure, as do many people. But the situation just doesn't warrant complete formal structure. I can't "force" myself to write when I really don't want to...I just get distracted, write half a page, watch a youtube video, read what I wrote and realize it sucks, blah blah blah. But, if I get myself working on something, reading and listening being easier than composing or writing, I can usually get my mind into doing the more creative aspects. When in this situation, it really does behoove you to get into some sort of routine, even if it's flexible and modular (MODULARITY FTW!)

Alan Hovhaness
Symphony 60
Naxos
Orchestral
Aaron Jay Kernis
Symphony of Waves
Naxos
Orchestral
Poul Ruders
Gong
Naxos
Orchestral
Poul Ruders
Zenith
Naxos
Orchestral
Allen Shaw
Piano Sonata 1
DRAM
Piano
Anders Nilsson
Horst
Naxos
Chamber
Anders Nilsson
Ariel
Naxos
String, Oboe, Elec
William Bolcom
Symphony 4
DRAM
Orhcestral
Donald Erb
Rainbow Snake
DRAM
Trombone, Perc
Allan Schindler
Eternal Winter
DRAM
Trombone, Elec
Michael Davis
Mission Red (BAD BAD BAD!!!!)
DRAM
Trombone, Elec
Vinko Globokar
Engel der Gerschichte (The Angel of History): I. Zerfall
Naxos
Orchestral
Donad Erb
and then toward the end
DRAM
Trombone, Elec
Nick Omiccioli
Push/pull
Soundcloud
Chamber
Per Norgard
Symphony 7
Naxos
Orchestral
Per Norgard
Symphony 3
Naxos
Orchestral
Luigi Nono
Lontananza nostalgica utopica future
Naxos
Violin, Elec
Shulamit Ran
Hyperbole
DRAM
Piano
Alvin Lucier
Panorama
DRAM
Trombone, Piano
Alvin Lucier
Wind Shadows
DRAM
Trombone, Oscillator
Donald H. White
Sonata for Trombone and Piano
DRAM
Trombone, Piano
Walter Ross
Concerto for Trombone
DRAM
Trombone, Orchestra
Robert Erickson
Auroras
DRAM
Orchestral
Ellen Taafe Zwilich
Symphony No. 1
DRAM
Orchestral
Anders Nordentoft
On This Planet
Naxos Video
Opera
Joan Tower
Tres Lent
DRAM
Cello, Piano
Ellen Taafe Zwilich
Symphony No. 2
Naxos
Orchestral
Joan Tower
DNA
Naxos
Percussion
Gunther Schuller
Fantasia (or Fantasy)
DRAM
Cello
Opeth
Heritage (full album)
Owned
Metal
Sergei Prokofiev
Symphony 3
Naxos
Orchestral
John Adams
On the Transmigration of Soulds
Naxos
Choral
James Tenney
Spectrum 1
Naxos
Chamber
Lejaren Hiller
String Quartet No. 6
DRAM
String Quartet
Lejaren Hiller
Computer Cantata
DRAM
Chamber, Voice, Electronics
Lejaren Hiller
Portfolio for Diverse Performers
DRAM
Chamber, Voice, Electronics
Iannis Xenakis
Tracees
Naxos
Orchestral
Iannis Xenakis
Noomena
Naxos
Orchestral
Krux
Krux II
Youtube
Doom Metal
Children of Bodom
Something Wild (full album)
Youtube
Doom Metal
George Walker
Foil for Orchestra
DRAM
Orchestral
George Walker
Variations for Orchestra
DRAM
Orchestral
Jim Mobberley
Arena
DRAM
Orchestral
In Flames
Various
Youtube
Metal
Candalmass
Various
Youtube
Metal
Entombed
Left Hand Path
Owned
Metal

Tony Kushner
Angels in America Pt. 2: Perestroika
Owned
Play
David Ryan and Helmutt Lachenmann
Composer in Interview: Helmutt Lachenmann
JStor
Article, Interview
R. Murray Schafer
The Soundscape: Our Sonic Environment and the Tuning of the World
Owned
Book
Iannis Xenakis
Formalized Music
EMS
Book
Fred Lerdahl
Interview on composerconversations.com
Composerconversations.com
Podcast