A Musing on Purpose

November 12, 2009 by Rafiq

This has been my most extended absence from the Blog yet, but I assure you that I’ve been productive since my last post. Much of my time has been spent juggling my research in the field of neuroeconomics with trying to learn as much about music and the world as I can (while I’m still in this chrysalis), but I’ve also been giving a lot of thought to what I should do when I get out of here.

That I will make music is a given—I can’t help it. But by what means? As many musicians young and old are quick to note, the opportunities to perform appear to be growing scarcer by the year, and mentor-figures like Art Blakey, Miles Davis, and Betty Carter have no replacements in modern times (though many artists are doing their best). The most significant obstacle in making this decision for me has always been the question of purpose. I’ve always found it difficult to consider a career in music when reminded that I could just as easily use the advantages of my upbringing and education—privileged, thanks to the hard work of my parents, who came to this country with next to nothing—to more directly benefit the lives of others. I expect to graduate in May with a degree in economics and cognitive science (and, much more importantly, a perspective born out of exposure to a liberal arts education). Why not use this knowledge to work in economic development, for example?

Part of this difficulty undoubtedly comes from my perspective as a first-generation American, raised by immigrants. I’ve found a lot to identify with and look up to in the examples of two of the pioneering South Asian American voices in creative music, Vijay Iyer and Rudresh Mahanthappa, and their article, “Sangha: Collaborative Improvisations on Community”, is no exception. As Iyer notes:

…I came to realize that there was something quintessentially western, and even American, about this myth of self-actualization — the idea that you would find your true calling, and it would be what you love to do, and what you’re great at doing, and that would be where you belong in the world. That sort of picture really presupposes a lot of social freedom and mobility that people in the culture of our ancestors didn’t generally have. Their lives were bound by familial obligations and duties, and social stratification that went hand-in-hand with what your career choice was… I think that self-actualization bug was something we all got bitten by, having grown up here. But it was so alien to my parents, really, the idea that you would actually do what you want. Who cares what you want? It’s not about you!

Of course, my experience has been distinct from that articulated by Iyer and Mahanthappa. To state the obvious, we are different people, and I am approximately half their age—they are a part of an earlier generation, and have been fighting trivialization and ignorance since before I was born. But I also have a different history. The last two generations of my family were born into the Indian diasporic community in East Africa, which has its roots in the importation of South Asians as manual laborers by European settlers to build the region’s infrastructure during the late nineteenth century. They had to improvise their way through that environment, but did so quite successfully by building their own institutions of business and community. Following the East African revolutions, however, conditions became hostile for South Asians in the region—most notably, Idi Amin expelled an estimated 75,000 Asian Ugandans in 1972. When the British left, they took with them the experience from positions previously denied to colored people in the region, and the quality of education suffered immensely. While still in high school, my father snuck out of his home country of Tanzania in pursuit of a better life.

While my ancestry shares the community-centered viewpoint described by Iyer above, there is a difference—the idea of “hoping to make some difference in the world” mentioned by Mahanthappa is a fundamental ethic, but (I believe) in a different sense than he meant it. By “difference in the world”, I mean the belief that it is one’s responsibility to take full advantage of every opportunity one is granted, and to use the resulting benefits in the service of others. This is born of a longstanding tradition of civil service as voluntary and professional work alike. But where does this idea extend to the clearly related one expressed by Mahanthappa above? I believe that the same values that compel us to work towards providing the less fortunate with economic and educational empowerment also suggest joining the ranks of social and community activists, journalists, and artists. I see a clear path to Strange Fruit, A Change Is Gonna Come, People In Sorrow, Mississippi Goddamn, Machine Gun, and In What Language?—indeed, calls-to-action from artists have inspired some of the most powerful social movements of the last century.

In any case, it is clear to me that one area in which creative musicians can take action is in the service of the music itself. For readers who are not aware of the debate I mentioned in my previous post (yes, it was a long time ago), it is elaborated upon here.

In June, the National Endowment for the Arts released its latest Survey of Public Participation in the Arts, which was conducted in collaboration with the U.S. Census Bureau. In early August, the Wall Street Journal’s drama critic Terry Teachout penned Can Jazz Be Saved?, a controversial article intended to sound alarms about the implications of the NEA report for jazz audiences. Teachout observed that the number of adult Americans who had been to at least one jazz concert in the past year fell 3% from 2004, that attendance among middle-aged Americans has dropped 30% since 2002, and, most worrisome, that the median age of adult jazz concert-goers has increased from 29 in 1982 to 46 in 2008. In short, the numbers suggest that the audience is growing older, and that the older audience is growing less interested. Teachout asserted that this trend could be attributed to a shift in public perception of jazz as a “high art”.

Yet more scrutiny reveals that perhaps Teachout’s conclusions were at least partially misguided. As mentioned previously, his article was very controversial and received numerous responses from within the jazz community. As I mentioned in my last entry, Teachout was asked to debate Vijay Iyer on WNYC’s Soundcheck. Iyer pointed to an alternative hypothesis—rather than the accessibility of jazz being the issue, these numbers may suggest that the issue is access to jazz concerts. He noted that the NEA study presumes that the number of jazz concerts in America has stayed constant, leading to the false conclusion that interest in the music has declined. As one of creative music’s most in-demand performers, Iyer hypothesized instead that it is the number of opportunities to see live jazz in America that has declined precipitously.

Besides the fact that we are in the midst of a recession and that the numbers point to an overall decline in participation in the arts in general (with jazz being no exception), Iyer also called attention to the critical fact that the median age of Americans was 30 in 1980, but has subsequently risen to 38, which partially explains the rise in the median age of the live jazz audience. Moreover, Iyer illuminated another likely catalyst: arts education. Music education was historically defunded under Regan, but more recently, Bush’s No Child Left Behind act worked to disincentivize arts education, as teachers were incentivized to “teach to the test”, which only covers reading and math. In a study by the Council on Education Policy just six months after the bill was enacted, 71% of school principals surveyed attested to the fact that they were forced to take focus away from at least one subject, and 22% had already witnessed a direct decline in art or music instruction .

Perhaps I’m biased by my own experiences. I’ve repeatedly noticed friends and acquaintances growing interested in the music through exposure to my music collection, and virtually all of them have been thankful for the introduction. Through my steady work at The Feve, an Oberlin mainstay that is kind enough to pay us to present whatever kind of music we want twice a month, the growing and loyal audience—composed of students and faculty from the College and Conservatory and residents of the town of Oberlin alike—is a testament to the enduring relevance of this music. These trends are not unique to Oberlin, however; I’ve have seen the same results in venues throughout the east coast and in the mid-west during the two tours I completed last spring, and have encountered it in abundance before arriving here through performances in North Carolina and New York.

Regardless of how we interpret these numbers, an obvious conclusion is that, as young musicians, we should be working to broaden the exposure of the music, even when the conditions aren’t ideal. One avenue is clearly the public education system, but there are undoubtedly others. We need to find a way to leverage the existing infrastructure for creative music in parallel with that for social outreach to create opportunities when there are none—a tradition that has been fundamental to the African American experience and to creative improvised music (just look at the AACM). After all, in a time where there aren’t many other opportunities for growth through performance, the answer may be to develop ensembles while developing the future audiences for them.

posted November 12, 2009 by Rafiq