Yesterday I walked past my vibraphone set up and realized I haven’t made music for myself in about a month. This made me sigh. I’m hoping I can find some time and mental space to create this weekend.
What about you, dear reader? Do you find yourself with time and energy to create anything these days, be it musical, visual, physical, culinary, or otherwise?
Back. Only one week this time. That seems more respectable. For now I’m approaching this as somewhat of a public journal. I’ll throw my thoughts out into the void and see what sticks. I’m still terrified of the internet, where nothing ever really dies and to be fat and a woman is a mortal sin, but I’m feeling brave at the moment so here goes?
So.
I’ve had ideas and instead of letting those ideas sit in my head and dissipate or be squashed by fear of doing the “wrong” thing, I actually played them, wrote them down (electronically of course), and even shared them with a few people. This is huge for me.
For the longest time I’ve been a musician, and I’ve always considered myself to be a person who is “crafty,” a problem solver with a vivid imagination, but I’ve been incredibly resistant to referring to myself as creative, and I’m STILL hesitant to call myself a composer. I may have four degrees, but none of them are in composition after all. But lately, and by lately I mean a journey that has been taking place over the last few years, I’ve been convincing myself that composing doesn’t. have. to. mean. notated. music.
I know. Wild, right?
And also…not at all.
As a music educator, I’ve held this stance for about 5 years, but applying it to myself and my own artistic output….that is a lesson that hasn’t really stuck. I’m trying to break down that conditioning within myself though. I may have years and years of training as a technician of other people’s music, but that is not all that I am. I may have finally found my footing as an educator in the place I now call home, but that is not all that I am. Composing = creating I can create. I can compose. I’m a…composer?
That doesn’t quite fit right just yet.
I’ll keep trying it on for size every once in a while, but for now I think I’ll try and focus on the actual creating and growing in comfort with that.
More on teaching and repertoire next time..unless my brain dictates otherwise. In the meantime, feel free to checkout an excerpt of the piece I wrote “Unsure” with my duo partner and friend, Chelsea! Follow us on the socials @consumingarts
Tia
Are blogs still a thing? The internet says “yes, but…” and to be honest, I’m not sure I have the mental capacity to go down the rabbit hole of that “but..” Needless to say, I find myself on this website I created, 4 years later, the same and a very changed person. I’ve since completed that DMA I was embarking on, as well as a 2nd masters, and now have a full time job (where I previously worked hourly/freelance) as Program Manager, Social Media Coordinator, and Lead Percussion Teacher for the social change through music program, Accent Pontiac (AP).
The fog of grad school has mostly lifted, but there’s still a lot of habits I formed to make it through that persist. I can’t seem to shake that imposter syndrome, the pushing to constantly be productive (also part of capitalism) is real strong, and ya know that little global pandemic we’re still living through is making’ the old noggin a tad on the messy side.
I’m not sure what’s coming for me. I do not know if my next entry will be in 4 days, or another 4 years. I’m trying my hand right now at finding a balance between Dr. Tia, as the amazing young musicians at AP call me, and Tia just me. I feel like somewhere over the last couple of years I’ve lost who I am as an individual person and artist. I’m looking to find that again. I’ve written some music over the past year. I’ve even shared with a few people. I’m hoping to get more comfortable doing that, and more comfortable being vulnerable.
I think of myself as a fighter, often. Fighting racism, fighting the patriarchy, fighting the dishes that so quickly can pile up, and I think so deeply on things. I get lost in those thoughts. I get overwhelmed at how large the issues facing our society loom. I’ve got so much schooling and even experience under my belt, and I still just feel helpless in the face of it all sometimes…more than sometimes…most times…if I’m being honest. My reaction to feeling helpless for so, so long has been to work harder, to dig deeper, to get up earlier, that if I were just more “on top of it” I could have solved that last problem. If I anticipated better, I could have given the kids a better experience. If I exercised more and were thinner, more people would make music with me. Oop…there’s that messy noggin again. Maybe I’ll make space to get in to some real things here…instead of just fight them. Maybe I’ll find it within myself to be open. Or maybe I’ll run and hide because the internet is a terrifying place for a fat woman…for any woman?
I want to create. Music. I want to perform. I want to teach. I want to be a part of not actively making my corner of this planet a worse place to live.
I’m in an uncomfortable place right now, mentally. Maybe writing will help me through it.
Maybe it will help someone else too.
Tia
Hello everyone!
Sorry for the recent radio silence on my page here. I’ve been busy!! For those of you who don’t know, I’ve got this really neat project going on that I’m trying to get of the ground, M.I. Concerts. It’s a contemporary chamber music series with a mission is to create and nourish new music through events that are Michigan-centric from the composers and performers to the venues and inspiration. M.I. Concerts brings music to the people by curating events in places like breweries, art galleries, and coffee shops. Please, please PLEASE like the M.I. Concerts page, and share it with your friends! Let’s get some love generated for New Music in Michigan!
The very first (of hopefully many) M.I. Concerts event is next month at the Lansing Brewing Company on Thursday, 11/17/2016 at 7:30pm. Admission is free! Please come out to support the Arts in Michigan, get yourself a wonderfully crafted beer, and enjoy some music created by your fellow Michiganders!
I hope to see you there,
Tia
In a previous blog entry, Gender Implications and the Marimba-Part 1, I briefly introduced a paper I had recently written. I would now like to explore two of the items I mentioned. One, the connection of the marimba to a lineage of other instruments that have been culturally gendered female, and two, to understand how performances by women may be framed in sexual terms.
SO. I believe that it is pretty safe to say that the marimba is similar to other instruments associated with women, particularly the keyboard. After all, they’ve both got two manuals (naturals and accidentals). All aspects of sound creation occurs out side of the body (we play these instruments with our hands).
In America, women have been directed towards keyboard percussion since the early 20thc as male teachers and critics were concerned that women lacked the physical strength required to play the instruments. I referenced this in the earlier entry by calling back to the 1923 quotation from percussionist George Lawrence Stone who, in an attempt not to be entirely dismissive of women, wrote that their weakness “should not discourage them by any means from the profession of drumming, for there are many other engagements open which are a good deal easier from a physical standpoint.” He went on to say that marimba performance was on the more appropriate open engagements for women in percussion.
According to Heather Hadlock in her essay about the glass harmonica, another highly gendered instrument in our lineage, this notion of the woman needing to remain attractive at all times is a very old one. Indeed one can go all the way back to the ancient Greek goddess Athena who, upon creating a wind instrument, the aulos, tossed it away “when she realized how playing it would distort her face and compromise her dignity.” The similarities regarding women between the armonica and the marimba at the time of its entrance into popular American culture are illuminative. Although by the time the marimba had become popular in America in the late 1920s, the armonica had long been out of style, the approach to women at the instruments in Western societies were remarkably similar.
For the armonica, part of the appeal of the instrument was the seeming ease with which a young woman could learn to play it. Hadlock writes,
“The armonica also promised instant proficiency for any young lady, offering a shortcut through the awkward early stages of musical training. While other instruments, even such “feminine” favorites as the harp and harpsichord, required a certain strength and dexterity, merely resting one’s hands on this instrument would make music.”
And then there’s the advertisement I mentioned in the earlier post as well from1931 for Deagan, one of the first marimba manufacturers:
“This impressive stage setting featuring thirteen Deagan Xylophones is the finale of ‘Tune Types.’ Critics pronounced it one of the most striking and entertaining finales of the year. Thousands of Chicago theater-goers were thrilled by the spectacular tonal effect of a 13-piece Xylophone band—yet these twelve Abbott girls spent only five and a half hours in practice. Could any proof be more convincing that the Xylophone is the easiest of all musical instruments to play?”
Such discourse associated the instruments with both women and a kind of “professional amateurism,” where the instrument seems to play itself. Which begs us to consider, when we applaud such performances are we really just applauding the disciplining of women? Just a thought.
I was planning on saving this for a later entry, but it seems now is the time..
That pesky “all-girl” aspect of the marimba’s presence in American culture early on is something that really must be discussed.
So Clair Omar Musser and his marimba bands…
Musser was arguably the “single most influential marimbist, marimba composer, and marimba designer in the history of the instrument.” That fact is not something I wish to dispute. Musser did a tremendous amount for the marimba regarding innovations for the instrument, popularizing it in America, technique advancements, and composing some of the first original pieces for the instrument. However, I do not feel that those things should protect him and his work from critical review. His extensive use of female ensembles in the 1920s and 30s, I believe, played a significant role in marginalizing the marimba as a “woman’s instrument.”
In 1929 he formed one of the first “All Girl” marimba ensembles. Musser produced the 25-member ensemble for a performance at the Oriental Theatre in Chicago. He also formed the 12 Abbot Girls, with Musser himself as the soloist. One of his most popular groups was a touring quartet of co-eds from Northwestern University where he taught. While all-girl ensembles of this kind might be considered ground-breaking, it has typically been framed more as novelty, thereby weakening its cultural prestige. Furthermore, such displays of women performing might invite appreciation more of their bodies than of their music. Considering that many of these ensembles, and the 4 Marimba Co-eds specifically, were created for entertainment on military tours where their audience was likely to be entirely male, those implications are even more relevant.
The physicality required to play the marimba puts the body on display in ways that are more “appropriate” culturally for women.
Laura Mulvey
To help us understand how women’s performances might be framed in sexual terms, I turn to film theorist Laura Mulvey, who coined the term “The Male Gaze” in her 1973 essay, “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.” Her discussion of film audiences is easily applicable to those for music performances. She describes the darkness of the audience in contrast with the light of the screen, as well as how the audience separated from the drama of the film, that occurs in a “sealed world which unwinds magically, indifferent to the presence of the audience.” This description is remarkably similar to the “4th wall” experience of performing live music. Most importantly, however, she describes how we’ve culturally constructed roles for men and women in performance scenarios: men look, while women are to be looked at.
“In a world ordered by sexual imbalance, pleasure in looking has been split between active/male and passive/female. The determining male gaze projects its fantasy on to the female figure, which is styled accordingly.”
I assert that Musser, and especially Reg Kehoe, shaped the stage and female performers to the style in which they, as men, would most like to view.
Perhaps more famous in the public sphere, but not hailed so unequivocally as Musser was “Reg Kehoe and his Marimba Queens.” Kehoe formed a variety show of sorts, combining live marimba performances alongside comedy skits, dancing and singing. Kehoe himself attributed the success of the ensemble to “smart, good-looking girls, who can play real good music and, at the same time, display good figures and bare legs.”
(How could I pass up using that amazing evidence again?)
In my next entry regarding the marimba and gender, I intend to consider Paul Creston’s 1940 Concertino for Marimba and Orchestra. It was the first piece of its kind (a concerto for marimba), and like many such canonical works, it has remained above scrutiny. Taking a closer look at this work, however, might illuminate the continued gendered makeup of the field, especially because its first performers were women. Its original performers may be the reason that this work was critically maligned at first.
I do belive that is enough food for thought for one day in the life of this bog.
Quickly, I want to say that I had the pleasure of presenting and discussing this research at the National Conference on Percussion Pedagogy in San Antonio, Tx last month. That experience was a hoot and a half. As my “entrance into academia,” (as I’ve come to think of the whole experience in my mind) it certainly lived up to, and surpassed my expectations of what presenting research could be. It was one of the, shall I saw most lively discussions I have had the opportunity to witness, which left me feeling that my work is valid. There were intense supporters, and a few loud naysayers, and on the whole the experience was amazing. I sparked a discussion. Which really, is my end game with all of this…it’s a never ending end game. I understand I can’t change every individual’s mind. However, if I can open the floor (in as many circumstances as possible) to discussion on gender related issues then I am doing a good job. 
Sources:
“Clair Omar Musser.” Percussive Notes 37 No. 2 (April 1999): 6-17.
Eyler, David P.. “Development of the Marimba Ensemble in North American During the 1930’s.” Percussive Notes 34, No.1 (February 1996): 66-71.
Hadlock, Heather. “Women and the Glass Harmonica.” Journal of the American Musicological Society 53, No.3 (Autumn 2000): 507-542.
Mulvey, Laura. “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.” In Visual and Other Pleasures, 14-26. Houndmills, Basingstoke,Hampshire: Macmillan, 1989.
Stone, George Lawrence. “For Ladies Only.” Jacobs Orchestra Monthly 8 (1923): 91-92.
Relatively recently, I wrote a paper exploring the potential gendered implications of the marimba. This paper was formally for a class I was taking, but informally something I had been wanting to look in to for quite a while. I’ll be posting about the marimba/percussion and gender in various installments. I believe the issue is too big, and too complex to discuss in one blog entry. Well, one entry that any person who isn’t me would actually read the whole way through.
A few years ago at the annual Percussive Arts Society International Conference (PASIC), I had the stark realization that I am a minority in my field. To many of you, this is probably obvious, but to me, I think I couldn’t see what I didn’t want to. Long story short, I am an avid promoter of new music. And so, like any overly zealous, naïve young percussionist, I thought it’d be a great idea to attend the New Music Research Committee meeting. I walked into the room with another female colleague and we doubled the amount of women in the room, not that that really did much for the ratio has a whole. Needless to say, this experience alongside many similar ones throughout my budding career led me to ponder why the percussion field still seemed so heavily male-dominated. Then I realized where all the women are. They’re playing marimba. This is of course hyperbole, but relevant nonetheless.
I’m still fine tuning aspects of the paper and my research, but I thought I’d put this idea out here now that I’ve had some time to sift through the available literature and my thoughts as well. In my paper, I focused on the issue of gender and the marimba through the critical reception of Paul Creston’s Concertino for Marimba and the social climate in America at the time. I feel the attitude surrounding the marimba was, and to an extent continuing today is, that it was/is a woman’s instrument. There are potentially many reasons for this. One being how closely related the marimba is to other historically feminine instruments. I also believe that the way in which the physicality required to play the marimba puts the body on display may have led to females being directed to this instrument to be viewed by the male gaze. I discuss the complicated issue of gender more thoroughly in the essay, but for now I think I’d like you to consider some of the following evidence regarding not necessarily the concertino, but gender and percussion playing in general in the early 20th century.
“. . . but this should not discourage them by any means from the profession of drumming, for there are many other engagements open which are a good deal easier from a physical standpoint.” –George Lawrence Stone, “For Ladies Only,” Jacobs Orchestra Monthly 8 (1923): 91.
There are numerous examples of the thought that the “tender” sex could not physically create the necessary sounds on drums. One such example is in the words above from percussionist George Lawrence Stone in an article from 1923. Stone went on to suggest that one of the open engagements appropriate for women was marimba performance. In the early 20th century, the thought of a woman playing an instrument that required so much physical exertion was presumed unattractive.[1]
In a 1931 ad for Deagan, one of the first marimba manufacturers:
“This impressive stage setting featuring thirteen Deagan Xylophones is the finale of ‘Tune Types.’ Critics pronounced it one of the most striking and entertaining finales of the year. Thousands of Chicago theater-goers were thrilled by the spectacular tonal effect of a 13-piece Xylophone band—yet these twelve Abbott girls spent only five and a half hours in practice. Could any proof be more convincing that the Xylophone is the easiest of all musical instruments to play?”[2]
Discovering the impression that the instrument requires little skill to make a desirable sound was an enlightening moment for me in my research. Although, I’m not entirely sure now. Non-percussionists walk up to my instruments all the time, pick up the closest sticks/mallets and start playing. I wonder what would happen if I went up to one of my wind or string-playing colleagues, picked up they’re flute/trumpet/violin/oboe/you get the point, and just started playing. On some level, I find the accessibility of percussion one of it’s most beautiful aspects, but it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that people find it “easy.”
Oh dear, I have digressed. Let me return to the subject at hand. It is interesting how these remarks on the simplicity of playing the instruments constrain the performer, who was often female. As will be seen in a later post, critical reviews of the concertino were generally complimentary. However, when said compliments are trapped under the guise of an instrument that “plays itself,” as one critic said, are they really compliments?
The “all girl ensemble” aspect of this ad will be discussed in a later entry, as that is a problematic notion all to itself. I can’t resist providing the following quote and video for you to ponder though…
“smart, good-looking girls, who can play real good music and, at the same time, display good figures and bare legs.”[3]
Musser was not the only person promoting all female marimba ensembles. Perhaps more famous in the public sphere, but not hailed so unequivocally as Musser was “Reg Kehoe and his Marimba Queens.” The importance of appearance in this ensemble can be understood through the above quotation from Kehoe himself regarding the success of the ensemble. And now, for your viewing pleasure (interpret THAT however you please), a video of the Marimba Queens:
I’ll just…I’ll just let that sit there…
Once I have this essay cleaned up, and in a place in which I’m comfortable putting it out into the world, I’ll be sure to post it on here. In the meantime, I’d love get some sort of dialogue going on the issue. Do you see this occurrence in your own studios/musical atmospheres? Do you feel you may have been steered towards towards a certain instrument in percussion, or ANY kind of musical performance? Or maybe, do you think this is a non-issue that I should just drop? Let me know your thoughts, regardless of the gender by which you identify yourself.
-Tia
[1] D. Antoinette Handy, Black Women in American Bands and Orchestras (Lanham MD: Scarecrow Press, 1998), 204.
[2] “Clair Omar Musser,” Percussive Notes, 37, No. 2 (April 1999): 14.
[3] Eyler, David P.. “Development of the Marimba Ensemble in North American During the 1930’s.” Percussive Notes 34, No.1 (February 1996): 66-71.
This blog has been stagnant for too long. I’m just getting in from sharing some food, beverages, and discussion with my friend and colleague, Philip Rice, and he reminded that I have meaningful thoughts, and am doing exciting things. In all honesty, I’ve been apprehensive about the implications of keeping a blog. All of the “What happens once my words are ‘out there’?” and “What if I change my mind in 10 years?” nonsense. Of course I’ll change my mind on interpretations, and maybe in 10 years I’ll be doing something entirely different with my life. Who knows? But does that mean I shouldn’t write about things in the here and now? So. Here it is. My vow to the interwebs to write more.
So on that note, here’s a quick update of what I’ve been up to the last year.
Last Spring I finished my Master’s degree in Music Performance!
I then spent my summer hanging around Michigan and getting to know this good ‘ole town of Lansing, went to my brother’s wedding (Congrats Tom!), worked in a restaurant to make some extra cash, facilitated many drum circles, didn’t practice as much as I should have, contemplated the extent to which I want musicology to be a part of my life/career, and began planning a trio recital for the fall.
Enter: Fall 2014. I began working at the MSU Writing Center (I love this job), realized the desire to focus more on musicology within myself, and put together a recital that I can confidently say is the best recital I’ve ever given. I asked Philip, and another Michigan composer, Jay C. Batzner to compose percussion trios specifically for the event. I called it “The Making of Lines and Letters: A Percussion Recital.” A friend of mine, Matt Roberts and fellow MSU Percussionist, Alice Pan were gracious enough to play this recital with me. We put together a mini-tour of sorts going to some local schools, an art gallery, and finishing it off at MSU. Here are some highlights from the show:
So that about brings us up to where we are now. It’s January in Michigan, and I’m doing ALL THE THINGS. Next week I get to do some run out performances with the MSU Percussion Studio before our trip to play at the McCormick Marimba Festival down in Tampa, FL…can you say SUNSHINE? It’ll be a great, albeit bust week. We’re recording everything Sunday, then it’s the last week of this set of repertoire before I get to start working on Part II of David Lang’s “The So Called Laws of Nature.” In solo-land, I’m working on Lanky’s “Three Moves for Marimba” and wrapping my mind/speaking around Globokar’s “Toucher,” but more on all that later.
I have a lot of ideas to discuss on here; political influences on “Toucher,” gender and the marimba, heck gender/sexuality/race/why do we keep this silly canon intact?…and MUSIC, culture, commissioning, coffee, learning French, various plot developments in Doctor Who and Buffy, my cat Elliott.Ya know, the real deep, intellectual stuff. Anyway, stay posted for more in the future. Thanks for reading.
Dr. Tia Harvey 