In 1913, Densmore published Teton Sioux Music, a dauntingly large volume containing an analysis of Teton Sioux music and a look into their culture and customs. Unlike many of her other bulletins, articles, and books, this publication includes two personal narratives of tribe members. The stories of Red Fox and Eagle Shield tell of daily life within their communities and formative experiences for these individuals as they grew up. By publishing these stories, Densmore preserves the voices of the individuals she interacted with and gives her audiences a glance into these people’s lives. But these narratives pose more questions about Densmore and her methods than they answer. Why did Densmore include so few of these narratives in her writings? Why did she choose to publish these particular stories? Perhaps it is because both stories are related to songs that Densmore recorded and analyzed. Or, should we hold on to hope that these songs and their stories were included because of a particularly strong bond between Densmore and these two Native men? While we know Densmore must have had some sort of connection to those whom she interacted with as she studied Indigenous music, her publications do not give us a strong sense of these relationships and bonds. Instead, these books offer significant evidence of Densmore’s academic and intellectual strengths. This focus on the analysis and collection is likely a reflection of two of Densmore’s values in research and study. First, a racialized desire to capture as much knowledge about these ‘dying’ community’s music, culture, and customs; and second, a response to the misogyny she likely experienced as a women researcher and academic to publish and analyze as much as humanly possible. 

Densmore’s racialized perspective towards her own study is no secret and is clearly reflected in her methods for ethnomusicological study. Just a few examples of this include her notation of Indigenous music using western standards, her desire to take images of native peoples unbeknownst to them, and her choice to use incredibly racist terminology when talking about Native Americans, such as ‘primitive’. In addition, her positionality within academia as a woman also likely impacted the way she chose to engage in study and share her findings. In Travels with Frances Densmore, Michelle Wick Patterson writes about how Densmore towed the lines of the gender norms of her time. By working in music and in the humanities, Densmore continued to engage in ‘women’s work’. This foundation allowed her to give lectures, speeches, and publish academic works which all pushed the bounds of what was acceptable for women to do at this time. 

By examining Densmore’s motivations for research, we can begin to learn yet another lesson from the work of this challenging, ractist, and tenacious women. When anaylizing the work of any humanist researcher, it might be just as important to understand their own positionality with in their field along with the positionality of their subjects. For such understanding and knowledge can shed light on the researchers motivations for their own project, and for the reception of it. 

Densmore, Frances. Teton Sioux Music. New York, Da Capo Press, 1972. 

Patterson, Michelle Wick. “She Always Said, ‘I Heard an Indian Drum’”. Travels with Frances Densmore: Her Life, Work, and Legacy in Native American Studies. University of Nebraska Press, 2015, 29-64.

White, Bruce. “Familiar Faces: Densmore’s Minnesota Photographs”. Travels with Frances Densmore: Her Life, Work, and Legacy in Native American Studies. University of Nebraska Press, 2015, 316-350. 

As a part of my research for Early Jazz, I’ve been collecting data points on Sidney Bechet, a clarinetist and soprano saxophonist who pioneered early jazz playing on his instruments. Bechet bounced between hundreds of jobs and gigs during his time, one of them being a part of the pit orchestra for composer Eubie Blake’s La Revue Negre, a review show that performed in France, leading him to interact on several occasions with Blake. When searching for more information about Blake, an article turned up that fascinated me, titled “Colored Artist Doesn’t Seek Much”. In the article, the author -which is not listed and is attributed as anonymous- uses comments from Blake to justify minstrelsy. Blake’s comment that “If the white minstrel be a good actor, then he gives a characterization of the Negro we admire” is used to justify the practice of minstrelsy, and is contrasted with the idea that not accepting minstrelsy is “stirring up hornets” (1).

However, that’s not what Blake intended with his comment. The keyword is “good”, which is relative to the opinions of a specific individual. In using the word “good”, Blake likely means a minstrel performer who makes a good-faith attempt to portray blackness (or whatever that means in the context of minstrelsy). However, the author breezes over this discrepancy towards his own end. The author likely means someone who is purely entertaining; this statement then becomes less about Blake’s own opinion and more about the author using a token person of color to justify his own means.

This source, while infuriating on multiple levels, highlights how complicated and diluted our understanding of historical conversations surrounding the practice of minstrelsy is. While in this article it’s easy to discern how Blake’s words were misused, this is likely the exception and not the norm. There are likely other historical articles that discuss minstrelsy that manipulate and bend the words of people of color in ways that are nearly untraceable in the present day. With this in mind, we need to have a cautious and keen eye as we look towards the past to better understand our history and the discussions around racist practices.

“Colored Artist Doesn’t Seek Much.” Advocate (Kansas City, Kansas) XI, no. 25, February 6, 1925: [1]. Readex: African American Newspapers. https://infoweb.newsbank.com/apps/readex/doc?p=EANAAA&docref=image/v2%3A12AE42418574BA80%40EANAAA-12BF19AEA32ADE60%402424188-12BF19AEB3350DF8%400-12BF19AEE80B6F30%40Colored%2BArtist%2BDoesn%2527t%2BSeek%2BMuch.

Francis (Frank) Johnson (1792–1844)— an “originator of music for the new (American) Republic”—was an African American bandleader, composer, teacher and performer from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania who was central to the cultural and musical life of his locale.[1] Johnson was born within the post-Revolutionary context of a burgeoning community of African Americans in Philadelphia, known as Society Hill.[2] Frank Johnson’s skillset was broad, and besides developing virtuosity on the violin and cornet, he achieved great admiration by Philadelphian elite, whom he composed dances for and performed them with string and brass bands at social events.[3] Johnson lived at 536 Pine Street in Philadelphia for most of his life, a site which today has a commemorative marker honoring the legacy of the trailblazing musician.[4] See below.

Francis Johnson (1792-1844), (Historical Marker at 536 Pine St. Philadelphia PA – Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission 1992).

Johnson also composed music for regional militia gatherings, cultivating his capabilities in the wake of a “rush of patriotism” sweeping America after the War of 1812.[5] His brass band played marches and quicksteps (the latter is a type of march)—considered “today as the earliest form of distinctly pure American marches,” Johnson set a standard of influence for American martial music in the early 19^th century.[6] He would go on to compose over 200 pieces in a variety of genres.[7] By 1837, Johnson became a pioneering American musical figure in another groundbreaking way—his brass band prepared and embarked on a tour to Europe, performing in London, which was significantly “the first known performance by an American music ensemble in Europe.”[8]

Windsor Castle, Windsor, England – Johnson Performance 01-01-1838 (photograph 1854).

Frank Johnson toured in the United States, which expanded his reputation beyond Philadelphia. Notably, though, such regional tours to the Midwest and other Northeast cities were not always received well. Occupying an era predating blackface minstrelsy, Johnson nevertheless lived at a time when societal racism presented momentous challenges to even free Black communities in the North.[9] After one performance in Allegheny City, Pennsylvania, in 1843 (near Pittsburgh), newspapers reported of a “Riot near Pittsburgh- Frank Johnson’s Band robbed.” [10] Frank Johnson passed away in 1844. Though hindered by racism as an African American and largely overlooked today in American music history, Frank Johnson was an important musical figure of the Antebellum Era who can be understood as an originator of distinct American musical forms and American performance abroad.

Albany Evening Journal, Albany, New York, May 23, 1843, p. 2.

[1] Richard Griscom, “Francis Johnson: Philadelphia Bandmaster and Composer.” University of Pennsylvania Almanac, February 14, 2012; Charles Kelley Jones, Francis Johnson (1792-1844): chronicle of a Black musician in early nineteenth-century Philadelphia (United States: Lehigh University Press, 2006), 32.

[2] Jones, Francis Johnson (1792-1844, (United States: Lehigh University Press, 2006), 29.

[3] Griscom, “Francis Johnson,” University of Pennsylvania Almanac, February 14, 2012.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Jones, Francis Johnson, 46.

[6] Ibid.

[7] See quickstep in “Quickstep,” Grove Music Online, 2001, Accessed 29 Nov. 2022. https://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-9781561592630-e-0000022695; See marches in Earnest Lamb, “The Music of Francis Johnson and His Contemporaries: Early 19th-Century Black Composers. The Chestnut Brass Company and Friends, Tamara Brooks, Conductor. Music Masters 7029-2-C, 1990,” Journal of the Society for American Music 8, no. 2 (2014): 266–67. https://doi.org/10.1017/S1752196314000133.

[8] Griscom, “Francis Johnson,” 2012.

[9] Ibid.

[10] Albany Evening Journal, Albany, New York, May 23, 1843, p. 2.

Frances Densmore was an accomplished woman who took on the task, given by the United States government, to record a vast amount of songs from indigenous tribes across the nation. By peering into this task shallowly, one might argue that she made a great and positive feet for the indigenous tribes she encountered. She is inherently responsible for keeping many traditions and songs from these tribes alive through her use of publications, notation, and recording cylinders. However, the method in which she took to force her presence on some of the indigenous people was one that often caused critique from her peers and scholars today. 

The Papago people are located in the southwest region of the United states, specifically located in the valleys of the Santa Cruz River. Called by Densmore the “desert people”, the Papago lived and recorded with Densmore in the Papago Reservation in Sells, San Xavier, and Vomari in 1920. Through Densmore’s bulletin published on the Papago, we come to learn that they are an agricultural tribe, often dedicating much of their time and resources to farming maize, beans, wheat, barley, and cotton. Interestingly Densmore shares that the Papago are “by nature and industrious people and are now finding employment in various activities incidental to the coming of the white race. For instance, many are able to make a living by cutting mesquite wood in the desert and selling it in the neighboring towns.” I wonder how “natural” this quality was of Papago, or if it was the outcome to her and the government’s push for assimilation into American society. 

Bibliography

Densmore, F. (2006). Papago music. Kessinger Pub.

Buddy Bolden made a name for himself performing in Union Square. https://prcno.org/louis-sullivans-sophisticated-union-depot-welcomed-train-passengers-new-orleans-60-years/

Buddy Bolden’s childhood home. https://prcno.org/buddy-bolden-father-jazz/

One of the most informative sources I came across for my group’s project on the origins of jazz is an article published by historian James Karst on the Preservation Society of New Orleans’ website titled “Buddy Bolden, the father of jazz, left no known recorded music, but his home still stands in Central City”. Buddy Bolden, born as Charles Bolden, was a virtuosic jazz trumpet performer and one of the main contributors to the birth of the jazz genre. Bolden, likely influenced by brass bands on the streets of his Central City neighborhood in New Orleans, rose to fame for his cornet playing in Union Square (Marquis). Karst writes that “Sometime before the turn of the century, legend has it, he began to improvise passages in existing songs, perhaps because of his inability to play them as written or as others played them. The failure to play the music the way it was intended didn’t matter, of course. The people loved it. They supposedly would come from across the city to hear Bolden play.” This being said, I was surprised to have never even heard his name until we started our project. Bolden’s career ended abruptly with three arrests and his admittance into the State Insane Asylum in Jackson, Louisiana, which is probably the reason behind Bolden’s little physical records today.

Central City neighborhood where Bolden lived. https://thelensnola.org/2013/02/01/photo-essay-central-city-languishes-just-a-short-walk-from-the-glitzy-superdome/

Like the title of Karst’s article suggests, there is no recorded music by Buddy Bolden that can be listened to today. Furthermore, the article states that there is only a single known picture of the jazz star. It is not even known where Bolden is buried. Karst uses uncertain language in the article that signifies to readers that not much is known about Bolden’s childhood, either: “He undoubtedly witnessed brass bands parading through the streets from the time he was a child. He probably went to the Fisk School [not to be confused with Fisk University, where the Fisk Jubilee Singers originated], the same school Louis Armstrong later attended, and may have even graduated. At some point, he began taking music lessons on the cornet,” (Karst) [Italicizations added to draw attention to Karst’s unsure wording].

The only known picture of Buddy Bolden. He is pictured second from left in the top row. Buddy Bolden’s childhood home. https://prcno.org/buddy-bolden-father-jazz/

These gaps in knowledge about Buddy Bolden’s life were not aided by his three arrests and consequential institutionalization. Bolden’s first arrest in 1906 (and likely his others) was connected to his deteriorating mental state as a young adult: “He had been bedridden for several weeks, according to newspaper reports on the incident from the time, including one recently discovered by this writer. In a fit of psychosis, Bolden became convinced that he was being drugged or poisoned, and he attacked his caregiver, who was either his mother or his mother-in-law. He was booked on a charge of being insane, and alcohol abuse was cited as the reason for his insanity,” (Karst). Karst writes that Bolden was arrested twice more in the following year, which eventually landed Bolden in the aforementioned State Insane Asylum. Bolden quit music due to struggles with his band and spent the rest of his life in the asylum. The little known knowledge about Bolden is likely due to his short-lived music career. This being said, it is amazing to consider the impact that Bolden had on the origins of jazz in such a quick time period. I wonder how many other incredibly influential American music are little known because of factors such as illness, lack of resources, imprisonment, or other similar issues?

Sources:

Karst, James. “Buddy Bolden, the Father of Jazz, Left No Known Recorded Music, but His Home Still Stands in Central City.” Preservation Resource Center of New Orleans, 30 Apr. 2019, https://prcno.org/buddy-bolden-father-jazz/.

Marquis, Donald M. In Search of Buddy Bolden : First Man of Jazz. Revised edition., Louisiana State University Press, 2005.

The newspaper headline proudly reads “Evanti Wins Plaudits of Italians”, published in the Wyandotte Echo in Kansas City. At first glance, there is nothing particularly strange about this headline besides the fact that a Kansas City newspaper is paying mind at all to the opinions of Italians on, well, anything. But there’s so much more to it. It is true that Evanti had won the favor of many Italians, as well as plenty of others throughout Europe, but it is important to acknowledge that the reason she was really in Europe at all was for the sake that her talents were not being adequately appreciated in America. The fact that a newspaper in Kansas City would sing her praises years after she essentially gave up on a music career in America is ironic, but in a way also demonstrates the impact Lillian Evanti had and her importance to other members of the black musical community.

In her early years, Evanti performed mainly in DC, but it’s in her plea to the Crisis newspaper that we can really see how difficult that was. In her letter to W.E.B Du Bois that he ended up publishing in the newspaper, it is clear that segregation was taking its toll on her platform and audience. It was then that she decided to go to Europe (which mind you, was not known for being terribly anti-racist in the 1920s either) and proceeded to stun endless audiences with her voice. Why then, when America had all but shunned her, did the Wyandotte Echo decide to publish this piece? This newspaper, unlike the Crisis was not known for lifting up BIPOC voices, but perhaps we could attribute this all to the fact that the American obsession with fame is a very powerful thing.

Akin to the French obsession with jazz, it is likely that having an American singer become so renowned abroad was a huge deal for America. Before the 1920s, there were very limited defining factors in terms of American sound and a small number of renowned classical performers or composers. Evanti would have been extraordinary for this sake alone. Still, it is almost cruel that anyone should love her for her fame when she was so hated for her race. Nonetheless, there is something to be said for the fact that she had such a positive presence in a newspaper at all for this time period. It is possible that she opened doors for other black musicians by breaking down some of the barriers she had faced as a black woman in America by going to and finding fame in Europe. 

Sources 

• “Evanti Wins Plaudits of Italians.” Wyandotte Echo (Kansas City, Kansas) III, no. 11, June 6, 1930: PAGE [ONE]. Readex: African American Newspapers. https://infoweb.newsbank.com/apps/readex/doc?p=EANAAA&docref=image/v2%3A12ACD97C8656DCF8%40EANAAA-12C8BA26840196C8%402426134-12C8BA268E28EC78%400-12C8BA26BB913CB0%40Evanti%2BWins%2BPlaudits%2Bof%2BItalians.

Crisis (Firm). “Pages from The Crisis with editorial by Lillian Evanti, 1927.” W. E. B. Du Bois Papers (MS 312). Special Collections and University Archives, University of Massachusetts Amherst Libraries https://credo.library.umass.edu/view/pageturn/mums312-b175-i625/#page/1/mode/1up

What does a beach town with a nationally renowned aquarium and Chicagoan jazz legends like Thelonious Monk have in common? If you are a jazz musician today and don’t live under a rock, you might know the answer – the Monterey Jazz Festival, one of the biggest and most prestigious jazz festivals in the country. Founded in 1958, it is the longest continuously-running jazz festival in the world, and, today, only the best of the best of professional jazz musicians get invited to perform (1).

The Festival was co-founded by Ralph Gleason, a jazz critic for the San Francisco Chronicle, and Jimmy Lyons, a jazz disc jockey. It took them over two years to organize the first festival, but they worked on overdrive to book jazz musicians from all the major jazz epicenters, like New Orleans, Harlem, and Chicago (2). In the very first festival, the two pulled the likes of Louis Armstrong, Billie Holiday (whose particular performance became famous, especially since she died suddenly about nine months later), and Dave Brubeck, who coined and was the first supporter of the idea of the festival (1).

Seen in newspaper articles from the Chicago Defender, there was not only considerable effort made by the festival to recruit top talent in jazz, but also efforts made to uplift the communities that the musicians hailed from and where there were fans. Check out this article advertising the musicians in the 1961 festival (3) and 1963 festival, which included Thelonious Monk (4):

The jazz festival has been popular for years, and has drawn as many as 40,000 people over the three days per year. It has also implemented programs for outreach, including funding music scholarships at the Monterey Peninsula College and Berklee College of Music, a summer jazz camp for students, and honor ensembles, including a big band, a vocal jazz ensemble, and women-only combos. Another outreach program of the festival is its Next Generation Jazz Festival, in which big bands, combos, singers, and jazz choirs from schools and universities across the country compete to even make it into the prestigious three-day event (5). This festival is especially cool for me because I was lucky enough to get to perform at it in high school with my vocal jazz ensemble! (I’m pretty sure we got close to the bottom of the competition rankings, though: California has a pretty fantastic jazz scene, both in general and at high schools.)

Sources:

(1) “Monterey Jazz Festival.” Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, November 16, 2022. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monterey_Jazz_Festival.

(2) “The Monterey Jazz Festival Collection.” Spotlight at Stanford. Accessed November 20, 2022. https://exhibits.stanford.edu/mjf.

(3) Monterey jazz festival boasts allstar lineup(2). 1961. The Chicago Defender (National edition) (1921-1967), Aug 19, 1961. https://www.proquest.com/historical-newspapers/monterey-jazz-festival-boasts-allstar-lineup-2/docview/492970249/se-2 (accessed November 21, 2022).

(4) Line up jazz festival for monterey, calif. 1963. Chicago Daily Defender (Daily Edition) (1960-1973), Aug 26, 1963. https://www.proquest.com/historical-newspapers/line-up-jazz-festival-monterey-calif/docview/493965032/se-2 (accessed November 21, 2022).

(5) “JazzReach – Education – 65th Annual Monterey Jazz Festival.” Monterey Jazz Festival. Accessed November 21, 2022. https://montereyjazzfestival.org/education/program/jazzreach/.

What constitutes American Classical music? Perhaps we could define it by the Western sound of Copland, who delineated the open plains in a series of open fifths or Ellington who took Jazz, a distinctly American genre to the symphonic stage, or even Dvorak who wasn’t American at all but somehow managed to be one of the best at defining American classical music. 

For other nations, the distinction was easy. France holds impressionism, full of soft lilting melodies and making use of modal harmony when it had become somewhat obsolete. Germany was defined in Wagnerian extravagance, Italy laid claim to opera, and Russian music was re-interpreted again and again by Tchaikovsky, Stravinsky, Prokofiev, and Shostakovich in a series of controversial (and frequently politically controversial) harmonies. What did America have? I think it might be fair to say that American music is defined more by subject matter than it is by tonality or style. Charles Ives is perhaps one of the best examples of this.

The headline of the Chicago Defender reads “Chicago Symphony opens with Ives’ Decoration Day”. This is one of four pieces written by Ives called “Four New England Holidays” all based on his childhood on the east coast. Decoration day (or memorial day as we know it now) is full of “simultaneity” meaning that different instruments are playing entirely incongruent parts that line up in some vertical manner. He was much ahead of composers in Europe that would eventually try the same thing (Chicago Defender).

Ives was always very dedicated to depicting a scene. In Decoration Day, there are many elements that can lead the audience to know exactly what was in Ives’s head. The movement starts with rather disturbed and incongruent parts punctuated by church bells, made to signify the “fragmented memories and melodies” that his father shared with him about the Civil War (Coffill). Eventually the piece breaks out into a full military march, before returning to an even more haunting, bare bones version of the opening. Such clear depictions of an event can be seen in many of Ives’s other works such as “Central Park After Dark” where the instruments are supposed to emulate the sounds of central park including voices and car horns (Keller). Both of these settings are inherently American, but his styling is nowhere in relation to Copland, Price, or Ellington. However, all of these composers did write about the subject matter of America, and maybe that is where the true musical nationalism lies. 

Sources: 

“Chicago Symphony Opens with Ives’ ‘Decoration Day’.” Chicago Defender (Daily Edition) (1973-), Nov 19, 1974. https://www.proquest.com/historical-newspapers/chicago-symphony-opens-with-ives-decoration-day/docview/494084643/se-2.

Coffill, B. (2019). Charles Ives’s Decoration Day: A Conductor’s Guide. SAGE Open, 9(1). https://doi.org/10.1177/2158244018820353

Keller, James M. “Notes on the Program – New York Philharmonic.” NyPhil.org, NY Philharmonic, https://nyphil.org/~/media/pdfs/program-notes/1819/Ives-Central-Park-in-the-Dark.pdf.

When looking at maps in our class, we’ve observed that many conclusions can be drawn from a map regarding the author’s intentions: how they want to use the map, and to what end. Advertisements are no different, and it’s important to acknowledge what an ad is attempting to achieve and how it tries to reach its goal. This furthers our understanding of the author and the context for when it was made. A clear example of this can be found in the 5th Annual American Negro Music Festival Program, held on July 8th, 1944 (1). The program functioned as a flyer to promote the event to potential ticket buyers as well as show audience members what they were in for.

The front cover of the program.

The inside of the program

From our modern-day perspective, the opening cover seems to be disarming and doesn’t give us much information about the concert itself. It’s held at the White Sox Ball Park, a relatively-large venue. The title is specific enough so viewers understand that the festival will feature some aspect of African-American music, but vague enough for viewers not to know which one. Could it be folk? Classical? Jazz? Spirituals? The front cover intentionally gives us no answer.

The back of the program

Then we move to the inside of the pamphlet, and much more is revealed. All of the main acts listed are African Americans who perform inside the European concert tradition and individuals respected in academic circles, or at least the program frames it as such. Names such as Madam Lillian Evanti and Langston Hughes are mentioned. The program also wants to make clear its goals as a social-justice event and goes out of its way to articulate its intentions “to create a keener and more appreciative understanding between all racial groups” (2).

Finally, the last page includes a final call to get tickets and endorses itself with the names of well-known political figures and organizations. Notably, the public figures mentioned are all white. Looking at all of the observations we’ve gathered, we can conclude that this was undoubtedly targeted at white audiences. Every aspect of the planned event and this advertisement appeals to white sensibilities. All of the African American artists listed are noted as excelling at white traditions of opera, poetry, composition, and European music. It makes no mention of Spirituals, Jazz, Blues, or Folk music – all genres that were spreading at a rapid pace among African American musicians. The endorsements come from white authority figures, rather than Black intellectuals and leaders at the time. Langston Hughes was involved with this event and was a prominent Black cultural leader. Why not have him endorse it? The fear was that doing so would scare white audiences away.

While the seeking of white approval is disappointing from our present-day perspective, it doesn’t undercut the concert’s historical intentions of racial justice. At the time, putting together an event at this scale that featured Black musicians and artists was highly unusual, and likely a huge risk for all financially invested parties. However, this does not permit filtering black art through a white lens, especially not in the present day. If we seek to dismantle implicit racism that events like these perpetuated, we must acknowledge the impact it had (good and bad) to avoid making the same mistakes.

(1) Evans-Tibbs collection, Anacostia Community Museum Archives, Smithsonian Institution, gift of the Estate of Thurlow E. Tibbs, Jr.

(2) Evans-Tibbs collection, Anacostia Community Museum Archives, Smithsonian Institution, gift of the Estate of Thurlow E. Tibbs, Jr.

A self made millionaire, Robert Sengstacke Abbott trained as a lawyer and turned to newspaper publishing after two years of practicing law in Indiana and Kansas. Despite Abbott’s shift in career direction, his work remained rooted in social justice and an unwavering commitment to making life better for the many African Americans leaving the south and heading north during what is known as The Great Migration. While none of the nine original goals of his newspaper, The Chicago Defender, speak to the proliferation of African American musicians, composers and conductors, the existence of his newspaper provided exposure for thousands of African American musicians who would otherwise have been forgotten. Abbott’s efforts were recognized nationally and included in the Encyclopedia of Chicago website noting, “The Chicago Defender promoted black fine arts and publicized the works of artists and the institutions that supported and nurtured their creativity.” Even though Abbott’s newspaper was not established to nurture blossoming African American musicians at the time, it inadvertently was the singular catalyst for popularizing many of the black musicians we know and love today. This includes greats like Margaret Bonds, King Oliver, Louis Armstrong and Josephine Baker. Sarah A. Waits in her theses and dissertation, “‘Listen to The Wild Discord’: Jazz in the Chicago Defender and the Louisiana Weekly, 1925-1929,” confirms the subtle promotion for African American musicians when she writes, “By highlighting the gigs and engagements of New Orleans-born musicians, and of orchestras that played New Orleans-style jazz, musicians in New Orleans were aware of the economic and popular successes of former residents” (Waits, 17). 

Abbott termed the nine original goals of his newspaper the Bible, and tied his entrepreneurship to the health, safety, civil rights and expansion of African Americans and their cultural roots. This publication contributed to The Great Migration with Abbott heroically using his skill, knowledge and desire to help African Amercians dream of a life outside the Jim Crow South. In establishing, publishing and distributing information about African American representation, careers and artistic cultural events, Abbott shared a vision of what awaited them in the north and introduced them to those African Americans who were living out their dream of composing and performing in the arts and redefining the field for all.

In 1975, newspaper journalist Earl Calloway, widely known as the Fine Arts Editor and a columnist for The Chicago Daily Defender, wrote a short column regarding The Chicgao Defender newspaper putting specific emphasis on African American culture. The title of the article does not do justice to Mr. Calloway’s writing because of the emphasis on black entertainers and musicians in the text. Mr. Calloway begins the article by referencing earlier editions of The Chicago Defender highlighting African American musicians and composers such as the infamous James P. Johnson, a revolutionary pianist who was a major part of the transition from ragtime to jazz music, his pupils, as well as other young talented black artists at the time. Mr. Calloway recognizes Mr. Abbott and his contributions as well as how his “personal involvement and support continued throughout his life by attending and emphasizing artistic activity and development” in African American individuals (Calloway). Calloway further expands on the fact that there are little to no black musicians who haven’t been touched and carry the support from The Chicago Defender. Mr. Abbott’s newspaper was not only a wide success for the African American community in its fight for civil rights, it was also a newspaper that featured and amplified black excellence, something many newspaper companies and publishers are still mastering to this day. Calloway concludes his article with the names and pictures of ten talented and noteworthy African American musicians, including the famous African American lyric tenor and composer, Roland Hayes. Mr. Calloway’s final words from his article fill the reader with hope and a sense of certainty that The Chicago Defender will always recognize and uplift black musicians in their continued fight for equal opportunity around performing, access to venues, and the right to earn a living and even profit from their creative talents.  Thankfully, Abbott was educated as a lawyer but gave up practicing law to establish a newspaper that uplifted and created a platform to achieve greater justice for all African Americans.

Works Cited

Calloway, Earl. “Chicago Defender emphasizes African-American cultural.” Chicago Defender (Daily Edition) (1973-), May 05, 1975, pp. 69. ProQuest, https://www.proquest.com/historical-newspapers/chicago-defender-emphasizes-african-american/docview/494124522/se-2. 

Chicago Black Renaissance, http://www.encyclopedia.chicagohistory.org/pages/240.html. 

Tamblyn, contributed by: George. “Robert Sengstacke Abbott (1870-1940) •.” •, 15 Nov. 2020, https://www.blackpast.org/african-american-history/abbott-robert-sengstacke-1870-1940/. 

Waits, Sarah  A. ‘Listen to The Wild Discord’: Jazz in the Chicago Defender and the Louisiana Weekly, 1925-1929, https://scholarworks.uno.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=2669&context=td. 

While perusing Chicago Defender, I came across an article from September of 2011 that announced plans to construct the National Museum of African American Music in Nashville, Tennessee. The article states that the museum “will focus on the way African Americans have influenced almost every genre of American music – from rock ‘n’ roll, to country, to rhythm and blues and gospel”. I was pleasantly surprised that The Associated Press recognized genres such as rock ‘n’ roll and country that are not stereotypically associated with African American music but are very influenced by contributions from African American musicians and traditions.

This draws parallels to Rhiannon Gidden’s “Community and Connection,” Keynote Speech at 2017 International Bluegrass Music Association Conference, which the class watched and read earlier in the semester. In her speech, Giddens identifies the roots of bluegrass as a mixture of a variety of traditions besides the commonly believed Scottish-Irish origins, such as African American and Native American sources hundreds of years in the making. The use of the banjo in bluegrass music especially derives from African American musicking, according to Giddens, and has helped to launch the genre to international recognition and success.

Banjo https://www.thomannmusic.com/harley_benton_bj_65pro_6_string_banjo.htm

Now that over a decade has passed since the Chicago Defender article was written, the National Museum of African American Music has transitioned from an idea into a fully-built establishment that thrives in the heart of Nashville. While the Chicago Defender article predicted the museum would open in 2013, it never actually opened until January 2021. That is an eight year difference! Although the COVID-19 pandemic almost certainly played a part in the delay of opening the museum, there must have been other factors that postponed the opening or construction of the museum before the pandemic began. I wonder if this could have something to do with the research and exhibit-making process taking longer than expected?

National Museum of African American Music https://nashvilledowntown.com/go/national-museum-of-african-american-music

Interestingly, the “Galleries” page of the official website for the National Museum of African American Music states that it is “the only museum dedicated to educating, preserving and celebrating more than 50 music genres and styles that were created, influenced, and/or inspired by African Americans, including spirituals, blues, jazz, gospel, R&B, and hip-hop.” This is an interesting dichotomy in regards to the Chicago Defender article in that the museum’s website specifically names and focuses on stereotypically African American genres of music. The two exhibits in the museum that are currently active (outside of the main Rivers of Rhythm experience that is the central focus of the museum) focus on spirituals and the blues. This leads me to believe that although the museum is probably a great educational resource for learning about stereotypically African American musical traditions, it may not shed light on the other genres of music (such as bluegrass) that African Americans also have contributed to and influenced.

Sources:

rtmadmincd. “Nashville Museum on African American Music Planned.” Chicago Defender, Real Times Media, 11 Sept. 2011, https://chicagodefender.com/nashville-museum-on-african-american-music-planned/.

“Galleries.” National Museum of African American Music, Tennessee Arts Commission, https://www.nmaam.org/galleries.

Povelones, Robert. “Rhiannon Giddens Keynote Address – IBMA Business Conference 2017.” IBMA, 26 Apr. 2021, https://ibma.org/rhiannon-giddens-keynote-address-2017/.

Florence Price

In 1933, Florence Price became the first ever African American woman to make her symphony debut with a US orchestra, specifically the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. Florence Price was born in 1887 in Little Rock, Arkansas, to a family that surrounded her with music, especially her mother, Florence Smith, who was a singer and pianist. Surrounded by hate and discrimination, just after Jim Crow laws passed, Price established a foundation of musical literacy through the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston, Massachusetts. First starting her career through education, Florence soon changed paths after her troubling and abusive divorce. She traveled with her daughters to the heart of the Harlem Renaissance in Chicago, where she met influential musicians like Marian Anderson and William Dawson. Her compositional journey began with spirituals and then transformed into large-scale orchestral works. These works, like Symphony in E Minor, made her an extraordinarily influential and prominent black composer. Reflecting on the debate held in class based on readings such as Samuel Floyd, Rae Brown, or Jean Snyder, I believe the contributions that Florence Price makes to the African American community and the western classical realm are significant. Through these primary sources provided, I will explore this debate even further.

Correspondence from Price to Wallace Magill

This primary source shown above is a correspondence from Florence Price to Wallace Magill, the director of Bell Telephone Hour, which “showcased the best in classical and Broadway music, reaching eight to nine million listeners each week.” This letter included Price’s gratitude towards the director in response to his acceptance of her spiritual “My Soul’s Been Anchored in the Lord” to be performed by her long-time friend Marian Anderson in the program on September 14, 1942. This letter gives excellent insight into how prominent and accepted Price had done her work in society as this popular classical radio show played her pieces alongside composers such as Beethoven, Kreisler, Brams, and many other great operatic stars. Consequently, I included a second primary source located in the music library entitled Art Songs and Spirituals by African American Women Composers. This source contains the exact sheet music of the song played on Bell Telephone Hour and lists it alongside other prominent spirituals.

My Soul’s Been Anchored in the Lord

It is abundantly clear that Price went through extreme trials and tribulations during her time as a composer and black woman, especially as one looks at the critiques from various musicians in the industry. However, it is evident through the abundance of performances and awards that Price achieved that she indeed influenced the entirety of not only the black musical spear but also the classical music realm. Her compositions and hold on the music industry lead us in one direction of the heavily discussed debate brought up early; classical music can lead to a whitewashing of black musical culture. Although, composers such as Florence Price prove that you can utilize classical music to both spread your name through white audiences and equally spread black culture in popular spaces such as she used Bell Telephone Hour to do. One question I might pose is, would Florence Price be as influential as she is if she hadn’t been as invested in orchestral works as she was?

Citations

Knight, E. (2020, October 28). Florence Price: The story of america’s forgotten musical genius. Music | Al Jazeera. Retrieved November 15, 2022, from https://www.aljazeera.com/features/2020/10/28/florence-price-americas-lost-musical-genius

Magill, W. (1945). Bell telelphone hour – OTR : Free download, Borrow, and streaming. Internet Archive. Retrieved November 15, 2022, from https://archive.org/details/Bell_Telephone_Hour

Price, F. (1942). Florence Price Letter to Wallace Magill, September 3, 1942, regarding Marian Anderson’s Performance of a Work by Price. CONTENTDM. Retrieved November 14, 2022, from https://digitalcollections.uark.edu/digital/collection/p17212coll3/id/10/

Taylor, V., King, B. J., Moore, U. S. (1995). Art songs and spirituals by African-American women composers. Hildegard Publ.

Aaron Copland, as most of us know, is one of the famed American composers of the late 18th-early 19th century. He is one of the big names in the American music canon.

In all honesty, I don’t know very much about Copland’s life or his collaborations. One of the pieces I knew a little bit about was Appalachian Spring, a ballet he composed the score for in collaboration with a friend of his, Martha Graham. Martha Graham was a famous American dancer whose choreography had a significant impact on the modern dance world. She is pictured below.

Copland and Graham began writing back and forth when she commissioned him to write a ballet with “an American theme.” They toyed with several ideas and until she suggested the name, Copland referred to this work as “Ballet for Martha”. I was looking for letters about this piece when I came across this one. There is no date for the letter, but it talks of hiring a choreographer, so one could assume its from during the beginning/middle stages of working on the ballet.

One thing I was not expecting to find in this letter at all was a summary of the Scarlet Letter.

I wasn’t sure why she included it at first, but then I read the beginning of the letter again and maybe it was a preliminary bouncing off point for a possible storyline of the ballet. I think they scrapped this idea because I tried to find a source that confirmed that this was the subject matter of the ballet but had no luck. The thought that something like the Scarlet Letter was even talked about as potential inspiration for Appalachian Spring is incredibly surprising to me. We usually don’t think to tie music, dance, and literature together because of the fact that these art forms are so different.

The Scarlet Letter came out in 1850 and this ballet premiered in 1944. Both of these pieces of work carry huge significance in the cannons of which they are a part. When thinking of quintessential American literature, the Scarlet Letter usually comes to mind. When thinking of iconic American classical music, Appalachian Spring usually comes to mind. This potential piece of information brings to mind more questions – why was this idea scrapped? How much of it remains in the way the ballet is performed today? Why does no one bring this up when talking about this piece?

It’s so interesting, too, to see how the potential usage of the Scarlet Letter as subject matter for this iconic American composition is leaning into such a white narrative and seemingly rejecting other cultural influences. Copland in his catalog has taken influences from other cultures to further his compositions, but I think the desire to stick with “American traditions” and the title of piece being what it is and it not being very reflective of what Appalachia looked like during the time period the piece was set in is very interesting.

Regardless of why this idea didn’t go any further, the ballet was worked on and there were more drafts – all the while Aaron and Martha kept in touch. Here is a letter she wrote him from right before the ballet premiered:

It is clear how much this work meant to the both of them, and other people were even able to pick up on it.

Collaboration is the bread and butter of the music and performing art world – without it, we wouldn’t have works of art like this. People might not want to go looking for how the sausage gets made (so to speak), but if you do, you might find a clue you never thought to factor in.

Works Cited:

Cassidy, Claudia. On the Aisle Martha Graham and Aaron Copland Good Companions in Superb “Appalachian Spring”. Chicago Tribune, Chicago, 1946. Pdf. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, <www.loc.gov/item/ihas.200153644/>.

Kraft, Victor. Aaron Copland by candlelight, studio in the Berkshires, September. Photograph. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, <www.loc.gov/item/copland.phot0017/>.

Letter from Martha Graham to Aaron Copland, n.d. Manuscript/Mixed Material. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, <www.loc.gov/item/ihas.200154125/>.

Letter from Martha Graham to Aaron Copland, May 1. Manuscript/Mixed Material. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, <www.loc.gov/item/ihas.200154119/>.

Charles Ives is a difficult pill to swallow. As a student studying music composition, I have been confronted with Ives and the larger body of atonal music he contributed to on several occasions; its merits as a stylistic choice, its place in academic circles, and whether to incorporate it into my own music. Each time I look at his work and read his thoughts on the arts, his philosophy towards music, and his demeanor in discussing it, his rhetoric perpetuates my disdain towards him.

Composer Charles Ives staring stoically off into the distance…

The Selected Correspondence of Charles Ives includes an exchange of letters between Ives and Henry H. Bellamann, a music critic who in April of 1921 receives a copy of Ives’ second piano sonata (1). He conveys in a letter his enjoyment of the piece, his plans to include it in his lectures, and requests for more information on Ive’s first piano sonata to relay it to audiences.

In Ives’ response to his letter, he gives Bellamann advice on possible ways to include Concord Sonata in his lecture and conveys his curiosity about how audiences react. He says “The first movements I find are severe tests for the listener as well as the player” (2). This statement could not possibly be more descriptive of the 17-minute-long first movement of his second piano Sonata, titled “Emerson” (3). His word choice, describing his music as a “test”, irks me in every wrong way imaginable. With this, he implies that listening to the movement is a rite of passage that denotes a listener or musician’s value.

Ives also appears to have the temperament or insecurity of a child (probably both). Ives receives a letter from colleague Percy Goetschius. While Goetschius makes clear his interest in Ives’ work, he does not withhold his criticism. As Goetschius states that “to my mind, these classic methods are correct ones [Ives adds between the lines ‘for soft eared cissies and aural cowards…” (4). While this does display a lack of impulse control and reveals deep insecurities about himself, this also suggests that Ives views his music as impervious to criticism, so much so he would rather write this intrusive thought down than keep it to himself.

We have talked a lot in class about the identity of American music. There is no denying the fact that Ives’ music is American. He was a composer who lived and worked in the United States, attempting to pioneer his own brand of music, so debating this is irrelevant. The question that remains is whether Ive’s music – and his contributions to atonal music – is something we want to perpetuate in the present day. If we answer this question from the perspective of the general public the answer is laid bare. The general public likely has no interest in performing his music, as seen with trends in popular music.

However, academic circles appear to be interested in continuing to engage with Ive’s music, as seen in courses that equip students to analyze post-tonal music, and new composers building upon Ive’s harmonic language in chamber and orchestral settings. If academic institutions choose to identify Ive’s work as a vital contribution to American western-classical music and worthwhile building upon, they must acknowledge that doing so deepens (both consciously and subconsciously) notions of self-deserving elitism, and encourages others to be recalcitrant to criticism of their work.

(1) Owens, Tom C, and Tom C Owens. 2007. Selected Correspondence of Charles Ives. 1st ed. Berkeley: University of California Press. https://doi.org/10.1525/j.ctt1ppr8v.

(2) Pg 84. Owens, Tom C, and Tom C Owens. 2007. Selected Correspondence of Charles Ives. 1st ed. Berkeley: University of California Press. https://doi.org/10.1525/j.ctt1ppr8v.

(3) Ives, Charles. n.d. “IVES: Piano Sonata No. 2 ‘Concord, Mass’ (Henck)”. Hong Kong: Naxos Digital Services US Inc.

(4) pg 67. Ives, Charles. n.d. “IVES: Piano Sonata No. 2 ‘Concord, Mass’ (Henck)”. Hong Kong: Naxos Digital Services US Inc.

When thinking about the style of American music, one composer may come to mind more than any other. With such a distinctive voice and beloved presence, Aaron Copland was an influential figure in American music, helping define a new era of what American music means. Copland believed in popular American and traditional music and brought a contemporary feel, a comfortable feel.

One exciting thing about Copland, which I learned in class last year with Louis Epstein, is that Copland studied with French teacher Nadia Boulanger from 1921-1924. The challenging aspect of this relationship is that as a labeled American composer, he was taught by a French musician, a very influential genre of music in the 1920s. French music in the 1920s was largely influenced by Les Six, members such as Poulenc and Milhaud.¹

²

He was different in that he incorporated known forms of American music such as folk and jazz into his pieces while also having a slight French influence, unlike other composers of the time. Above is the first draft of Appalachian Spring which would later become one of his most well-known compositions.

Copland had countless correspondence with countless people, yet I would like to focus on the correspondence between him and Nadia Boulanger. Nadia and Aaron had many years’ worth of contact. This specific correspondence below is from April 19th, 1929, and is Copland writing to Boulanger. He writes of advertisement propositions and asks Boulanger to play for him.

³

Based on this relationship, I still think that his music can be classified as very American. Copland, however much he was influenced by the French, was also influenced by numerous cultures and countries. That is what American music is. Cultivation of different music and ideas in one. Aaron Copland brought great artistry to American music and changed the way American music was defined.

1 Hitchcock, H. Wiley. “Aaron Copland and American Music.” Perspectives of New Music 19, no. 1/2 (1980): 31–33. https://doi.org/10.2307/832568.

2 Copland, Aaron. Appalachian Spring First Rough Sketches. Notated Music. https://www.loc.gov/item/copland.sket0024/.

3 Copland, Aaron. Letter from Aaron Copland to Nadia Boulanger, April 19.  Manuscript/Mixed Material. https://www.loc.gov/item/copland.corr0121/

As one of the most recognized and respected American classical composers of the twentieth century, Aaron Copland’s music reached deeply into the heart and soul of many aspiring, young American composers. Uniquely, Copland incorporated folk songs and jazz into his compositions, showcasing these popular American musical forms and creating inspiring and innovative music. Though still firmly entrenched in the rich history that accompanies jazz and folk songs (from America as well as other countries), Copland pushed the boundaries of modern day music of the late 1920s. Boundaries were also tested through his quest to repopularize European classical music and simultaneously showcase young American talent. It was this effort that led Copland to team up with another significant twentieth century American composer, Roger Sessions. 

Though both men were born in Brooklyn, New York, their first meeting was in Paris in 1924 at the apartment of famous pedagogue Nadia Boulanger. This initial encounter sparked a long correspondence of letters between the two men where they wrote about many topics  including their mutual admiration for one another and their opposing views on what constitutes American music. I find this amusing, given this echoes the overarching goal of this course, reexamining and redefining American music. This was the area of concentration in their letters during the late 1920s and early 1930s. It was during this period of correspondence that Copland and Sessions began their work on an extremely important concert series, the Copland-Sessions Concerts. The concert was put together in an effort to share the works of younger generation American composers, filled with differential musical personalities, to showcase American excellence and experimentation. This is affirmed in the first concert program which concluded with the statement  “Our only wish is to stimulate composers to more prolific activity and to develop a stronger sense of solidarity among the creators of a growing American music” (Oja, 212). 

An examination of these letters demonstrates that this concert series was made possible through their correspondence, revealing not only what was said in the letters but by the style the two composers used when writing to one another. One such letter from Copland to Sessions  dated March 18th, 1927, indicates the very warm and friendly relationship the two men enjoyed. Here Copland freely expresses his thoughts and feelings on certain subject matters, while also acknowledging the lapse of time in responding to his counterpart, “And how delightfully silly of you to have imagined that there was any shadow of a misunderstanding between us when my not writing to you is quite simply explained by the Concerto, that is finishing it and playing it.” Copland’s words to Sessions indicate a level of care and promise on his part, addressing the idea that Sessions may have thought things were up in the air between the two. Copland reassures Sessions that he was not ignoring him, and their relationship remains strong. This is an important correspondence because it speaks to the heartfelt relationship they had formed and Copland’s explicitly stated interest in Sessions’ Symphony telling him, “As far as I know Koussie expects to do it in April — he even told me he might do an All-American program, though he didn’t say whether or not he thought of doing the symphony then.” This letter was a catalyst for Sessions launching his first critical performance and subsequently a career which highlighted his specific ideas about American music. From then on through an exchange of letters, Copland carefully outlines the idea of a concert where young American and European composers present their original works in New York. The actual series went on for 4 years, ending in 1932.

Copland and Sessions were each prominent figures in this new generation of American composers, so despite some differences, it was not considered unusual for them to orchestrate and lead this concert series, “Yet they represented different orientations, possessing viewpoints that significantly colored their attitudes toward the focus of such endeavors. Sessions, although sympathetic to the plight of the young composer, spurned all chauvinistic tendencies, was not apt to support a composer on the basis of his national origin, and espoused more international philosophy; while Copland, as was already evident in his work, was conscious of the development of a national identity and proudly championed the cause of composers in his native country” (Oja, 214). It is the qualities and beliefs of the two men outlined by Oja above that  really make me curious about their relationship, their collaborative efforts and their unique ideas about American music. Specifically, how did they truly work together on such a massive project while they were at odds about American music ideals pertaining to identity? It is hard for me to imagine something more fundamental to an artist or a composer than their identity. A deeper dive into the letters between Copland and Sessions may provide the answers I am seeking, but for right now, the two men rose above their differences and accomplished their goal to introduce avant-garde pieces in the best way imaginable, The Copland-Sessions Concerts of Contemporary Music in New York.

Citations:

“Aaron Copland, 1900-1990.” The Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/ihas.200182578. 

Copland, Aaron. Letter from Aaron Copland to Roger Sessions. Manuscript/Mixed Material. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, <www.loc.gov/item/copland.corr0088/>.

Oja, Carol. “The Copland-Sessions Concerts and Their Reception in the Contemporary Press.” The Musical Quarterly, LXV, no. 2, 1979, pp. 212–229., https://doi.org/10.1093/mq/lxv.2.212. 

Olmstead, Andrea. “The Copland–Sessions Letters.” Tempo, no. 175, 1990, pp. 2–5., https://doi.org/10.1017/s0040298200012547. 

Antonín Dvorak https://www.classicfm.com/composers/dvorak/

Antonín Dvorak is one of the most famous musical composers of all time. His New World Symphony pushed the boundaries of what was considered classical music both during and after his lifetime (1841-1904). Dvorak’s borrowing and incorporation of traditional Native American and African American tunes into his Ninth Symphony sparked quite the controversy across the United States around the time that he moved to Spillville, Iowa in 1893. A large and public debate sparked across the country of the validity of incorporating African American spirituals and traditional Native American songs and influences into Western classical music.

Henry Krehbiel https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Edward_Krehbiel

With this controversy came an equal distribution of critics and fans of Dvorak’s music. Notably, famous music critic and reviewer Henry Krehbiel sent Dvorak a number of written correspondences which are very important because “they prove that Krehbiel’s article on the [ninth] symphony, which appeared on 15 December 1893 in the New York Tribune, was based on a lengthy interview with the composer,” (Beckerman).

The letters read as follows:

Interestingly, although we have not read the Krehbiel interview on Dvorak’s Ninth Symphony from the New York Tribune for class, we have read another one of his writings for class on October 6, 2022: an excerpt from his book “Afro-American Folksongs; A Study in Racial and National Music”. In this chapter, Krehbiel used racist and problematic language such as “savage” and “primitive” to refer to African Americans and their music on pages 11 and 13 (Krehbiel).

This is quite interesting in contrast to Krehbiel’s letters to Dvorak which praise Dvorak’s Ninth Symphony and call it “beautiful”, which is based on the very music that Krehbiel marked as “primitive” and “savage” twenty-one years later in 1914. I wonder if Krehbiel was hiding his true feelings about Black American music to Dvorak because Krehbiel was a fan of his Ninth Symphony and wanted to appeal to him as a friend and colleague? Or did Krehbiel like Dvorak’s quotations of Black American music despite the fact that he thought Black American music was “primitive” and “savage”?

The above correspondence from Krehbiel insinuates that Krehbiel has a passion for collecting scores and parts of African American songs, and furthermore studying them. The fact that Krehbiel relays to Dvorak that this music is even worthy of such deep study and collection raises some further questions in relation to the language Krehbiel uses in his book and his true intentions to network with Dvorak.

Krehbiel seems to have an interesting relationship to the music of Black Americans. He collects and studies it, but through a lens of white supremacy and racial othering. It also seems as though Krehbiel may have flexed his opinions on African American music to appeal more to Dvorak since Dvorak was so popular. Krehbiel likely found a useful connection in Dvorak, especially for the opportunity for Dvorak appear at his seminars (such as the one at the Women’s University Club) to make him seem established and well-connected. All of this being said, Krehbiel was an early advocate and promoter of Black American music, which cannot be said for everyone at the time.

Sources:

Dvorák and His World, edited by Michael Beckerman, Princeton University Press, 1993. ProQuest Ebook Central, https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/stolaf-ebooks/detail.action?docID=3030296.

Krehbiel, Henry Edward. “Chapter 1: Folksongs in General.” Afro-American Folk Songs: A Study in Racial and National Music, Kessinger Publishing, Whitefish, MT, 2010, pp. v-28.

Blackface and minstrelsy feel as outdated as just about anything from the early 20th century but while the overwhelming idea of blackface is a strictly negative one, some black and brown artists are reclaiming the painting of their bodies for empowerment. Baseera Khan is a Muslim American contemporary visual artist working out of Brooklyn, NY who has been creating exhibits around the country for the last 8 years. 

Baseera Khan’s Braidrage reclaims her identity in the representation and expression of her own physical body using oil, hair, architecture, and art. The dark paint on her body is especially important as a commentary on her race. Our conversation about minstrelsy in class assumes the negative use of black face paint related to minstrelsy, and we look at its use from a strictly historical viewpoint. However, the use of blackface has found a recent resurgence as a form on self-expression and power, taking back from racist traditions of the past and creating empowering and powerful artistic expression.

There is a long history of blackface in art leading up to exhibits like Khan’s, with varying degrees of controversy. While some of them turn a critical eye to the past, other artists misunderstand how their artwork can reinforce stereotypes and can further the disconnection between groups of people. Vanessa Beecroft is another artist who uses blackface in her artwork, who couples race with gender in her expressions.

[ iframe src=”https://www.brooklynmuseum.org/exhibitions/baseera_khan” width=”640″ height=”480″ ]

[ iframe src=”https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blackface_in_contemporary_art” width=”640″ height=”480″ ]

During her lifetime, the work of Florence Price, a Black woman composer, was often not performed on account of both her gender and race. She struggled to find conductors and musicians who would perform her work and recognize its merits. For instance, beginning in 1935 Price wrote a handful of letters to Serge Koussevitzky, conductor of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, urging him to examine some of her scores with the hopes of having them performed. Clearly aware of her positionality within the classical music sphere as a woman of color, Price implores Koussevitzky to judge her musical works on “merit alone” (Brown, xxxv). While Koussevitzky never replied to Price’s letters, others in the industry did identify Price’s musical excellence. In 1932, Price’s Symphony in E minor won first prize in the Wanamaker Music Contest. The Chicago Symphony Orchestra, under conductor Frederick Stock, performed the Symphony in E minor 1933. Price’s work thus became the first symphony composed by a Black woman to be performed by a major American orchestra. By examining the attitudes and motivations that were behind Frederick Stock and Serge Kousevitzky’s differing responses toward Price and her music, audiences and artists of today can recognize the how the reimagination of the canon is an ever-evolving process that has been occurring for many years. 

It is clear from Koussevitzky’s lack of action and Stock’s decision to program and perform Price’s piece that these two leaders in the classical music world had differing ideas and opinions regarding what music should shape the musical world of the time. We know that Stock had a great interest in performing ‘American’ music, and he likely saw Price’s work as an example of such repertoire. His interest in Price’s work can even be seen in Price’s own diary entries, as he asks her what she is working on and even helps her to premiere a piano concerto with him and his orchestra. Koussevitzky’s lack of action towards Price makes it challenging to understand his motivations or musical values, but we do know that he was interested in the creation and performance of new works through his founding of the Koussevitzky Foundation.

Using Florence Price’s unfortunate experience as a case study, we can recognize how difficult it is for composers, especially historically underrepresented composers, to break into the classical music sphere. It is even more challenging for their work to become a part of the canon, or to see themselves in the canon which major performing arts organizations uphold today. But Price’s story offers musicians and composers a great deal of hope. As disheartening as this history is, it shows that there is a desire to open up the classical music world to new works and ideas from those who have historically been pushed to the border of this genre. The work of reimagining the canon continues, and this process of rediscovery leads towards a musical environment which prioritizes representation and equity. 

Bibliography:

Britannica, The Editors of Encyclopaedia. “Serge Koussevitzky”. Encyclopedia Britannica, 22 Jul. 2022, https://www.britannica.com/biography/Serge-Koussevitzky. Accessed 14 November 2022.

Brown, Rae Linda. “Black Satin Clothes at the Fair.” The Heart of a Woman: The Life and Music of Florence Price, edited by Guthrie P. Ramsey Jr, University of Illinois Press, 2020, pp. 108-117.

Brown, Rae Linda. “The Women’s Symphony Orchestra of Chicago and Florence B. Price’s Piano Concerto in One Movement.” American Music, vol. 11, no. 2, 1993, https://www.jstor.org/stable/3052554?seq=1#metadata_info_tab_contents. Accessed 14 November 2022. 

Epstein, Dena J. “Frederick Stock and American Music.” American Music, vol. 10, no. 1, 1992, https://www.jstor.org/stable/3052142?sid=primo#metadata_info_tab_contents. Accessed 14 November 2022. 

Price, Florence et al. “Lifting the Veil: The Symphonies of Florence B. Price.” Symphonies Nos. 1 and 3. Middleton, WI, A-R Editions, Inc. 2008. 

Ros, Alex. “The Rediscovery of Florence Price.” The New Yorker, 29 January 2018, https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2018/02/05/the-rediscovery-of-florence-price. Accessed 14 November 2022. 

Frank Gerratana, Charles Edward Ives, 1947, http://loc.gov/pictures/resource/cph.3b10888/

Charles Ives, the early twentieth century,American composer pictured pensively above, is situated at an interesting boundary between historical debates of what constitutes “American music” that we’ve discussed in class. While Virgil Tomson’s ideas considered American music “derived from the British Isles” to be authentic—using North America’s Anglophone predominance as explanation for a continued lineage of English culture and music over all else—other critics and musicologists have proposed that American music’s essence derives from diverse folk traditions.[1] Charles Ives was descended from pilgrims and grew up with Anglo-American melodies in New England—however, his shift to avant-garde styles, combined with influence from folk traditions considered part of an “American school” of composition, demonstrates the futility of trying to narrowly define “American music.”[2] Ives’ development problematizes the work of early twentieth century music critics like Tomson and Olin Downes, who—possessing prominent influence over public perception of American classical music—used Ives to promote contradictory, limited arguments over American musical authenticity.

The debate over American Music’s standards and authenticity, especially when considering the influences of white male composers, was a means of determining what whiteness was in an early twentieth-century cultural context. Tomson saw an evolving American idiom—though in some ways diverging from European music—nevertheless marked by similarities indicating “the products of a common tradition.”[3] Tomson believed Charles Ives’ music fit the characteristics closely linking European/Anglophone lineage to American music. However, in a 1937 New York Times article by music critic Olin Downes, a contemporary of Ives, the critic glances at “native scores” and lauds the many folk music traditions informing the development of modern American composers.[4] Downes believed that not all American symphonic repertoire had been “mere imitators of European models of composition.”[5] Instead of pointing out examples of American music deriving new forms from only a foundation of European music (as Tomson did), Downes emphasized the wealth of folk music that American composers could draw from, “either grown from the soil or transplanted there from outside sources.”[6] Still, he links and celebrates the connection of this distinctly American folk music to songs like “Dixie” which immortalized the ideals of slavery and the Old South. This fact demonstrates a racialized context which—well into the twentieth century—still held mainstream influence in legitimizing problematic forms of white American culture. Nonetheless, as Tomson, who drew from racist, controversial scholarly ideas like those of George Pullen Jackson, saw American history as too short to legitimize its composers, Downes declared that the young, white male composers of the era, including Aaron Copland, Virgil Thomson, and Charles Ives, were too little performed.[7]

In conclusion, debates over what Ives represented showed incongruent definitions of musical authenticity, since one composer—Charles Ives—fit into both “camps.” It’s perhaps more important to consider how analyzing debates over American music through Ives and the perspectives of critics like Tomson and Downes problematizes their arguments. While they musically diverge, the convergence around attempts to define the raw materials worth lauding in American music as a reflection of whiteness (and thus white American culture) provides a glimpse into the mainstream, overtly racialized ways in which music critics influenced society and worked to further an exclusive conception of American music.

[1] Virgil Thomson, American Music Since 1910, Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1971, 16.

[2] Harold C. Schonberg,. “Natural American, Natural Rebel, Natural Avant-Gardist: Charles Ives had no use for Mozart, Haydn, Mendelssohn,Tchaikovsky and Wagner- Charles Ives Ives at the Keyboard,” New York Times (1923-), Apr 21, 1974. https://www.proquest.com/historical-newspapers/natural-american-rebel-avant-gardist/docview/119909304/se-2; Olin Downes, “A Glance at Native Scores,” New York Times (1923-), Jul 25, 1937. https://www.proquest.com/historical-newspapers/glance-at-native-scores/docview/102135938/se-2.

[3] Thomson, American Music Since 1910, 20.

[4] Downes, A Glance at Native Scores,” https://www.proquest.com/historical-newspapers/glance-at-native-scores/docview/102135938/se-2.

[5] Ibid.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ibid.

The word “Tanglewood” still leaves the tingle of excitement in my chest it did when I was 15. It brings to mind dreams I once had of spending a summer with the Boston Symphony in a place to which admittance would truly mean I had made it. Little did I know that Tanglewood had been this pinnacle for quite some time, and Aaron Copland had played a great part in its notoriety. In this picture, Aaron Copland- the quintessentially American classical composer- sits with Darius Milhaud, a french composer of great notoriety who immigrated to America during WWII, in the place of a summer music festival that still has great musical notoriety today (Appold, photo). I would argue that this image is in many ways an accurate representation of American classical music because the figures in the image had so much influence from different musics in the Americas, and their relationship exemplified a similar musical relationship between their two respective countries.

Copland was asked to work at “Berkshire Music Center at Tanglewood” for its first year in 1940 and “[continued] until 1965” (timeline). During that time, he composed many notable works such as the Tender Land Suites, Appalachian Spring, and Symphony No. 3 and won several awards to include the Pulitzer Prize, and an Academy Award (timeline). Copland’s dedication to Tanglewood is perhaps only comparable to Tanglewood’s dedication to his honor. From copious amounts of tribute programming, to the sculpture commissioned and installed in 2010, to the fact that his ashes were spread on the lawn of the Tappan House, one thing is made abundantly clear: America’s adamant patriotism made no exceptions for classical music (Shea).  

Perhaps the only people more infatuated with American classical music, or American music in general, than Americans, were the French. In this image, Darius Milhaud sits during one of his summers teaching at Tanglewood. Copland idealized the man, and wrote only the highest of praise saying “if France, like England, had a composer laureate, the post would rightfully be his” (Copland). Milhaud, much like Copland, was infatuated with music of South America (primarily Brazil) and their shared appropriation of such melodies could be described as inherently American. To suggest that American music has only positive defining factors would simply be false. Milhaud also used jazz and other forms of popular music very frequently in his compositions, and though he became renowned as a French composer, one could argue that his music is American because of all of the influences that he used and because much of it was in fact written here (Library of Congress). If Dvorak’s New World Symphony can be considered a work of American music, there is no reason that Milhaud’s couldn’t be on the same principle. Of course, it would be wrong to say that the music of these two composers could be accurately defined as American without acknowledging the shared trait of appropriating black and latinx ideas into something that became popularized by white composers. Unfortunately, this pattern could also be described as a shameful defining factor in American music. 

Sources

Appold, Juliette. “Darius Milhaud and the Americas.” Darius Milhaud and the Americas | NLS Music Notes. Library of Congress, August 6, 2020. https://blogs.loc.gov/nls-music-notes/2020/08/darius-milhaud-and-the-americas/.

Boriskin, Michael. “Aaron Copland: Timeline of a Musical Life.” Aaron Copland / Timeline // Copland House …where America’s musical past and future meet. Copland House. Accessed November 7, 2022. http://www.coplandhouse.org/aaron-copland/timeline/.

Britannica, T. Editors of Encyclopaedia. “Darius Milhaud.” Encyclopedia Britannica, August 31, 2022. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Darius-Milhaud.

Copland, Aaron. “Music Out of Everywhere.” The New York Times. The New York Times, February 22, 1953. https://archive.nytimes.com/www.nytimes.com/books/99/03/14/specials/copland-milhaud.html.

Kraft, Victor. Aaron Copland with Darius Milhaud, Tanglewood. , . Photograph. https://www.loc.gov/item/copland.phot0004/.

Rothwell, Jessie. “The Dreams of Jacob (Darius Milhaud).” LA Phil. LA Phil. Accessed November 7, 2022. https://www.laphil.com/musicdb/pieces/729/the-dreams-of-jacob.

Shea, Andrea. “Aaron Copland Sculpture Makes Its Home at Tanglewood.” WBUR News. WBUR, June 30, 2011. https://www.wbur.org/news/2011/06/30/copland-sculpture.

The resume of the prolific ethnographer and musicologist Frances Densmore is significant. As someone who has carried around many of her bulletins across campus on a daily basis, I can tell you that the weight of her work is heavy in more ways than one. As one of the founding researchers who developed and fostered the field of musicology in the early twentieth century, there is certainly a lot we have to thank Densmore for. However, we are not strangers to her wrongdoings either. From her white savior perspective towards many Indigenous peoples to her view that Native musics were not as evolved as the music of the white race, Densmore is anything but blameless. While we frequently discuss the recordings that Densmore produced, we might not be so aware of Densmore’s collection of Native American musical instruments and artifacts. This collection raises serious questions related to cultural and musical ownership and the benefits of ethnographic study. These collected artifacts serve as yet another Densmorian lesson to modern musicologists about the potential harm that ethnographic study can have on those from whom we wish to learn. 

After working with the American Bureau of Ethnography at the Smithsonian, Densmore was then added to the staff at the National Mueseum at Washington D.C. where she oversaw the a collection of musical instruments. She also composed a catalog of these instruments that includes everything from drums, stringed instruments, flutes, and horns. But Densmore did more than just maintain museums and collections, she did some of the collecting herself in the field. In 1917, she sold a collection of Lakota artifacts to the Museum of the American Indian in New York. In 1930, she collected functional materials used by the Ojibwes in Grand Portage, Minnesota for the Minnesota Historical Society (MHS). She ended up sending eight crates filled with artifacts to St. Paul, and sold these crates to MHS for two hundred and sixty dollars. Further, Densmore learned to play some of the instruments which she collected, and would played them at her lectures. By 1980, when MHS created an exhibit for Densmore’s collected artifacts, Native Americans had already began protesting the loss of their cultural items to white museums and institutions. Additionally, some indigenous people had begun to question the practice of collecting for research.

Thanks in part to her collection of indigenous mundane objects and musical instruments, 

Densmore remains the primary tutor for modern musicologists as they consider the ethics of ethnographic study. Similar to many musical expressions of her time, Densmore’s work is best understood as an expression of whiteness in academic research and transmission and not as an ernest attempt to understand the cultural values and practices of another. By identifying the shortcomings in the research of those who came before, modern musicologists can develop new research methods which seek to benefit both those who are being studied as well as those who will learn form the work produced. In order to truly and deeply learn from one another, the subjects of musicological study and their cultural values and priorities ought to be placed at the forefront. Otherwise, future generations will continue to discuss how ethnographic study says more about the researcher than the subject of interest. 

Bibliography:

Densmore, Frances. Handbook of the Collection of Musical Instruments in the United States National Museum. Washington, United States Government Printing Office, 1927. 

De Vale, Sue Carole. “Densmore and the Smithsonian’s Instrument Collection.” Ethnomusicology. Vol. 25, No. 3, 1981, 500-502. 

Harris and Ewing. Miss Frances Densmore, expert in Indian music, who has been added to the staff of the Nat’l Museum at Wash., she was formerly connected with the Amer. Bureau of Ethnology, the Smithsonian. She is now in charge of the unique collection of musical instruments gathered from all lands and located in the Museum. Here shows with 2 of the oldest musical instruments of the Indians, an old violin and a horn made from elephant tusk. 1924, Library of Congress, Washington D. C. https://www.loc.gov/item/2016893319/

Jensen, Joan M. Patterson, Michelle Wick. “Collection with a Mission: Frances Densmore’s Chippewa Artifacts.” Travels with Frances Densmore: Her Life, Work, and Legacy in Native American Studies. University of Nebraska, 2015, 518-599.  

Using the search term “Burleigh” in the Library of Congress’s National Jukebox archive, what was initially meant to yield results pertaining to H.T. Burleigh presented a search result far more interesting to me: a recording of a piece titled “Indian Snake Dance” by Cecil Burleigh. The recording captured Toscha Seide on Violin and Francesco Longo on Piano (1). The record is shown in the picture below (2).

Almost immediately after finding this recording, the question of authenticity and cultural representation came to mind. As a student in this class with prior musicology experience, this piece screams cultural appropriation and misrepresentation. The piano accompaniment for the main theme is a misguided attempt to imitate the sound of the drum in Native American pow-wow music. The violin attempts to mimic voices, dancing around the beat, similar to how a western trained ear might perceive Native American singing. However, rhythmic subdivisions in the violin are too clean. This in combination with the low 5ths in the left hand creates a caricature that mocks its original source. Beyond its initial theme, it abandons its facade of representing Native American culture and adheres to its western classical musical heritage for the rest of the piece.

What’s ultimately disappointing about this recording and database entry is the lack of context surrounding it. Not everyone listening to this will have attended higher education institutions, let alone studied musicology. Those who don’t have the same background knowledge have to rely on the information provided on the page. The hyperlinks included in the entry are simply labels that pull up more loosely related content, and if you click on the composer’s name, you’ll find that “Indian Snake Dance” is his only recording in the database. There are no liner notes, no information about the piece. It was only through my own independent research that it became abundantly clear that Cecil Burleigh has no apparent cultural ties to Native Americans. He was immersed in western classical music, studying at Klindworth-Scharwenka Conservatory in Berlin, the Chicago Musical College, and playing violin professionally (3).

If these materials like “Indian Snake Dance” -from relatively unknown authors- are made easily accessible to the general public, one would hope there could be more context surrounding these recordings. Those unlike myself, unwilling to do independent research, will lack the understanding required to explore the questions of authenticity beneath the surface level of this piece.

(1) Burleigh, Cecil, Toscha Seidel, and Francesco Longo. Indian Snake Dance. 1923. Audio. https://www.loc.gov/item/jukebox-670039/.

(2) Burleigh, Cecil, Toscha Seidel, and Francesco Longo. Indian Snake Dance. 1923. Audio. https://www.loc.gov/item/jukebox-670039/.

(3) Lowens, Margery Morgan. “Burleigh, Cecil.” Grove Music Online. 23 Feb. 2011; Accessed 8 Nov. 2022. https://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-9781561592630-e-1002092891.

There are some who love the idea of jazz borrowing from classical and there are some who hate it. I’m not sure which camp I personally fall into, but I love to see what arrangers and other instrumentalists do with older ideas that seem taboo to touch.

On this record titled Desecration Rag (A Classic Nightmare), Felix Ardnt takes us through several rags that use themes from western classical canon composers like Dvorak, Chopin, and Liszt. The record is a 10-inch vinyl pressing so it doesn’t have that many tracks, but the ones that are there are intriguing. The above listening selection is one of the tracks from the record and unfortunately the source doesn’t say which one it is. My best guess as a listener is that this track is the Dvorak track.

Recently, topics of discussion in class have revolved around how certain kinds of music grow and change to stay with the times and the benefits and drawbacks that has. With our recent discussions of what makes up the American Music Canon, I think this is a great artifact with which to tango.

This record raises some questions – is this music truly American or is it an Americanized interpretation? Is the music being transformed here truly European or were there some American elements in it? In the case of Dvorak specifically, that was the case.

Ragtime was one of the early stepping stones of jazz and to bring composers who didn’t write jazz into that realm of music through sampling their melodies likely raised some eyebrows in the audience that heard this record. At the time, there might have been a few that were familiar with the names of Dvorak and Liszt, but for those at the time who were purist of musical forms, they probably didn’t think very high of the sampling that was done on this record. Be that as it might have been, I think transforming music like this can make certain pieces that might seem stuffy to some more accessible and enjoyable – not everyone who likes jazz likes classical music and vice versa. This record could’ve been a cool way to bridge that gap and start conversations that might not have been had previously.

This recording from YouTube is a more recent recording that I thought would be cool to put beside the record. You can hear much more of Dvorak’s original sample in the YouTube recording, but the question remains the same: is this “American Music?” I think in the case of Dvorak in particular, it’s hard to not call his music American (at least what he wrote while in the country) because he was taking themes from local music that he heard and used it for his compositions. I think there are arguments for both sides, but with this being a ragtime jazz interpretation of a theme Dvorak wrote, I’m more inclined to call it American music than to try and call it something else.

Work Cited:

Arndt, Felix, and Felix Arndt. Desecration rag A classic nightmare. 1914. Audio. https://www.loc.gov/item/jukebox-134701/

Blackface minstrelsy, a nineteenth-century theatrical practice where white men would blacken their faces, dress up in racist exaggerated clothing and perform comic skits, variety acts, dancing and musical performances to their white counterparts. If the racially stereotyped mimicking of enslaved Africans working on Southern plantations wasn’t enough, we might be shocked to discover these performances were recorded and preserved in history for anyone to listen to. Should these recordings exist and be heard today? I would argue they should, for the simple reason that all must listen, view and comprehend this awful tradition and understand the impact it had on whites and their development of white identity, African Americans, and all people of color in the United States. 

One part of these musical threaticies is “coon songs,” an aspect of ragtime music built on racial stereotypes of African Americans. These songs were often heard and observed as the centerpiece of Minstrel shows, and designed for the continuous humiliation and degradation of people of color. As you may have guessed, these best-selling hits could not exist without the performances of some of the world’s most talented and famous musicians at the time. A familiar name in the realm of Minstrel shows and “coon songs” stars was Silas Leachman, a Chicago-based politician and vocalist who specialized in the art of “coon songs.” These ragtime songs, wreaking of horribly racist African American dialects and stereotypes, were how Mr. Leachman made a living, and something all too common at the time. Mr. Leachman rose to popularity making his first recordings for the Chicago Talking Machine Company during the early 1890s. Later that same decade, he also started recording for Columbia Records. What I want you to listen to and further examine, however, is Mr. Leachman’s 1902 recording of “Whoa Dar Mule” by Victor Monarch Records.

Aside from the racist text, it is difficult to listen to this recording and somehow conjure up a scholarly opinion of the music, if any at all. A syncopated ragtime, rhythmic style is common in a number of these “coon songs” so it is challenging to elaborate on their originality based on the individual song. A recording from the Library of Congress’ National Jukebox may help your ears understand what I’m trying to describe:

Link to song here: https://www.loc.gov/item/jukebox-5667/

Regardless of the obviously stereotypical lyrics, we should be more concerned with the racist dialect that is used in concert with the exquisite African American tradition of ragtime music. The contribution of the art forms of African American musicians from genres such as: spirituals, jazz, ragtime, blues, rock ‘n’ roll, soul, pop and rap, deserve respect and acknowledgement. These contributions should be embraced and amplified, never diminished. This likely was not a part of Mr. Leachman’s mindset when he committed to becoming, and being compensated, as a major vocalist for Minstrel shows and their “coon songs.” Nonetheless, as Eric Lott declared in Love and Theft: Blackface Minstrelsy and the American Working Class, “Every time you hear an expansive white man drop into his version of black English, you are in the presence of Blackface’s unconscious return.” This is a warning to stay vigilant when you are inclined to turn away and ignore mockery and other aspects of marginalization that may not directly impact you. 

When you degrade one you degrade us all. Sadly, elements of this behavior are ever present in society today. Irrespective of your lived experience and racial identification, this music is a reminder of how far from we were then, and how far we remain, from living up to the American ideal of equality for all men and women. Because it also offends all moral and religious teachings of compassion and love for our fellow people, we are compelled to watch, listen and dialog about the impact of these works as we raise children in a society that is based on a belief in the superiority of the white race. This exploitation of African Americans, while maybe not done in mainstream circles today, must be addressed by all of us to prevent giving unconscious approval to the white supremacy in our midst. 

Works Cited

“Blackface: The Birth of an American Stereotype.” National Museum of African American History and Culture, 22 Nov. 2017, https://nmaahc.si.edu/explore/stories/blackface-birth-american-stereotype. 

Leachman, Silas F. Whoa Dar Mule. 1901. Audio. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, <www.loc.gov/item/jukebox-5667/>. 

Lott, Eric. Love and Theft: Blackface Minstrelsy and the American Working Class. Oxford University Press, 2013.

“What Were Coon Songs? – May 2005.” Ferris State University, https://www.ferris.edu/HTMLS/news/jimcrow/question/2005/may.htm.