Busking Geography

 

NPR journalist A Martinez interviewed Cary Baker on today's Morning Edition about his recent book Down on the Corner. Beginning with Baker's first childhood encounter with street-corner performers, they discuss his exploration of the street performance as a vital node in the history and geography of music. 

Among other things, they discuss a fascinating sub-genre of busking that has been gaining wide exposure online: situations in which a famous artist crashes a performance of their work by a busker. In the example cited, it has been an 18-million-view boost to both Levi Mitchell and the more famous musician he was emulating. 

The interview ends with the author's thoughts on how to interact with public musicians. My family and I often pause in the way he recomends, and we've had a lot of nice experiences as a result.

Why Music?

When I saw this on social media today, I immediately reposted it with the caption, "And of course, music is also geography."

Geography is sometimes called the Science of Where, and the geographers in my department often use three questions as our guide: 

• Where is it?
• Why is it there?
• So what?

We use these to apply geographic thinking to all manner of things. As we see throughout this blog and the class it accompanies, music is a perfect example. Music always comes from somewhere, and it tells us something about that place. And most music goes somewhere, telling us about the connections among places. As our connections increase, music is part of a rich tapestry of change. 

When I posted the infographic, a former geography student replied right away, referring to her adult son:

I can’t tell you how pleased I am that my son took up band in fifth grade and has stuck with it into college. I am not a musical person. I can’t read music at all. Whenever I see him play with the marching band or orchestra, my heart is full. It’s all those things in the image. It enriches his life and mine.

As I write this, Massachusetts voters are considering an end to the requirement that all high school students pass a particular, very narrow exam in order to graduate. I have been teaching here over the entire life of that requirement, and I have seen the damage that has resulted from the narrowing of the curriculum. 

I hope we are on the verge of a return to a more diverse and inclusive pedagogy that has as much music, art, drama, sewing, cooking, metal shop, and photography as my own education did. And let's start with music!

¡Con Salsa!

 When I arrived in Bridgewater in 1997, I worked late into the night quite often. I had a new job with mostly new classes to prepare, I was a new father with a tiny baby to help care for, and my doctoral dissertation committee at the University of Arizona thought it would be fun to make me re-write an entire book they had initially approved.
My companion on those late nights was sometimes National Public Radio, especially on Saturday night when the local (but globally important) affiliate WBUR played Latin American music ALL NIGHT. 

Specifically, the program Con Salsa aired from midnight to 5 a.m. In those days, listeners could call in to request or dedicate songs, and I remember that more than a few of those requests were from my new home town of Bridgewater.
The show continues to be on the air, as it has been for almost 49 years, though now it runs 10pm Saturday to 3am Sunday. It is still five full hours, curated by José Massó III, a true scholar of the music of Latin America, particularly that of the Caribbean. He describes the show as five chapters of music and commentary, often tied together by a particular theme or by homage being paid to a particular artist. 

One thing I love is that the show begins almost without notice -- whatever is happening at 9:59 ends and then this song plays for seven minutes before Massó says anything at all. 

This is very unusual for public radio, which usually has a lot of chatter at the top of the hour. I have gotten used to this soft opening over the years, and only learned the back story when Massó explained it during the episode of October 5-6, 2024. 

Listen to the story of Con Salsa during a during his appearance on The Common.
The title of the song is simply "Puerto Rico" but the inspiration for the song was a particularly poignant moment in the history of the island. That moment was at the very end of 1972, when the musician Eddie Palmieri was among many Puerto Ricans who were desperately combing the beaches of the island, in search of some sign of life from the Pittsburg Pirates baseball star Roberto Clemente. 

It turns out that he perished in a plane that he had chartered for a humanitarian mission to Nicaragua.

Sergio, Play Yo Piano

Credit to Will.I.Am. for the title of this post. Read on ... 

In the summer of 2006, I was walking through music/book store with my mother when I noticed a whole rack of CDs (this was 2006, after all) entitled Timeless, by a band I had not heard of: Black Eyed Peas. 

I stopped in my tracks and then tried to explain to my mother why this was so exciting. The face on the CD was that of a young Sergio Mendes. Sergio Mendes! 

As I later wrote in a 2013 post on my main blog, this is an artist who perhaps more than any other brought samba to audiences in the United States. He visited New York shortly before I was born, and shortly afterward exiled himself there, eventually moving to Los Angeles, where he died on September 5, 2024.

Back to that 2006 recording. The TimelessI project is one of many of his collaborations, in this case giving Black Eyed Peas a major role in many of the songs that he had made famous decades before. Among the most popular of these is "Mas Que Nada" and it is in this track that rapper Will.I.Am. encourages his friend's instrumental solo with those words. 

So popular had he become in the United States -- and particularly in New York City -- that a 1993 Seinfeld episode has the character Kramer indignantly ranting about his importance, and erroneously assuming he was well-known in Brazil.  

Notable tracks and stories I'll be sharing in class:

Fanfarra Cabua Le Le (1992)

Mas Que Nada 2006

Mas Que Nada 1966 video (see Wikipedia for much more about this song)

Sergio Mendes obituary on NPR (audio)

Sergio Mendes highlights on NPR (including obituary text)

Sergio Mendes, 83, Dies; Brought Brazilian Rhythms to the Pop Charts (NY Times)

Sergio Mendes - Magalenha (Video Original)

Mendes had a cameo in an otherwise very unremarkable movie Be Cool

Nostalgia Blinders

I noticed this statement recently on the page of a relatively recent BSU student who is involved in music.

It brought to mind a sentiment I see far too often in posts by people my own age (those who are Baby Boomers or close to it). That is the notion that no good music is made any more. Citing great musicians of their (our) own era, they will claim that nothing being performed today is as good. Or in fact, any good. 

Today more music is available than ever before, since the music of previous generations is still mostly available in some form, and new music is added daily. Entire new kinds of music are added as well, as are collaborations between generations.

There is no need for cynicism, but it helps to understand how it arises. Music is associated with many of our memories -- especially with good memories of time spent with friends and lovers, especially in our youth. 

There is nothing wrong with these good feelings, but we do ourselves -- and people of different ages around us -- a disservice if we allow ourselves to think that our particular generation has a monopoly on good music.

Student Participation 

In the comments below, I invite students (or others visiting this blog) to share examples of the kind of comment I am referencing above. A day after this post, I saw a typical one, with a bit of a clever twist. 

This appeared on the Facebook page of author Tom Bernstein and had been shared over 1,500 times in the first five days. I bravely clicked on the comments section, and found three interesting kinds of comments. Some objected to the premise, arguing that there is plenty of good music today that the writer was missing. Others expressed agreement -- "you got that right" and so on. And still others simply referenced some of that earlier music, such as that of CSNY. 

Current students are also invited to provide links to evidence for (or against) the claim I make above, regarding the psychological importance of the music we enjoy in our youth.

A Letter To The Earth

What could be more fitting for a class on world music than an album with the title A Letter to the Earth? It is a recent production of Dominican-American jazz drummer and composer Ivanna Cuesta, who is a featured performer at this weekend's Mission Hill Arts Festival.

Yesterday's edition of the GBH program The Culture Show begins with an interview about the festival and her role in it, along with her in-studio performance of the title track. The program itself is wide-ranging, so after learning about the festival and the music, you can learn about the wacky story of the marathon at the 1904 Olympics and about ice cream in Massachusetts today. 

Enjoy!

Shared Centennial

VERSION: August 2, 2024

I am initiating this post is on the centennial of the birth of James Baldwin (August 2, 1924). It will be updated between now and the centennial of Amílcar Cabral's birth (September 12, 1924).

I recently noticed that the two men were born in the same summer. Neither is thought of as a musician, but both were poets, and their contributions are relevant to the way this course approaches world music.

A good starting point for learning about Baldwin is "On the centennial of his birth, James Baldwin remains relevant today" -- a short conversation from today's NPR's Morning Edition. I also recommend his interview with Terry Gross, which she rebroadcast on Fresh Air for the occasion of this centennial. 

Regarding Cabral, to begin I sharing Cabral ka Mori (Cabral is Not Dead), a song that was produced by my friend and BSU colleague Angelo Barbosa to honor this centennial. Many more songs are forthcoming in this project. We will have much more to share about this project. The title itself is a reminder that something that is very poetic in one language might appear less elegant in translation.

I also recommend the Wikipedia article about each of them -- James Baldwin and Amílcar Cabral for some basic facts about them and their work.  

We will have much more to say about why Cape Verde (Cabo Verde) is so important to our region of Southeastern Massachusetts. The Tale of Two Capes museum exhibit by 2023 BSU graduate Carolyn King tells part of the story.

I will be adding resources about both men to this particular post, and will invite students in The Planet Sings to draw their own comparisons. Please check the version date at the top of this post when you return.

Lagniappe 

An example -- Regresso by Amilcar Cabral in English and Portuguese