The Fifth International Symposium on Traditional Polyphony ...

The Fifth International Symposium on Traditional Polyphony ... The Fifth International Symposium on Traditional Polyphony ...

06.05.2013 Views

396 Jeremy Foutz “root tune” and a “root language”. Joseph Jordania has written extensively on the subject, drawing from a wide body of knowledge including biology, historiography, manuscript studies, linguistics, speech pathology, and history in a truly multifaceted, ethnomusicological fashion (Jordania, 2006). Evsevi Chokhonelidze also investigates polyphonic origins in the Georgian context. In his article from the First ong>Symposiumong>, he explores the intersection of pagan and Christian religious cultures in the fourth and fifth centuries and the subsequent rise of the individual – both in religious practice and liturgical vocal polyphony (Chokhonelidze, 2002: 107- 108): “ong>Theong> prominence given to this individual factor caused significant changes resulting in the appearance of different structural types of polyphony, stimulated polyphonic thinking development and the countermovement of parts” (Chokhonelidze, 2002: 107). As part of his presentation on the origins of Georgian vocal polyphony, Tamaz Gabisonia states that is it is “our duty, the duty of Georgian musicologists, to select the most solid and best-substantiated models of development of Georgian traditional polyphony out of existing hypotheses” (Gabisonia, 2004: 73). Similar attitudes regarding ancientness are found in interviews I conducted in 2009 in central Georgia and in Kakheti, as illustrated in the following quotation: “You know, for example, in the advertisements I know of the western sort, you always advertise this is new. Georgians [in advertisements] very often would say, it is old. ong>Theong> old vojovi, the old vine, the old – even coffee, etcetera, etcetera. So the direction of thinking is not future, but more past. It is again a kind of defense mechanism. ong>Theong> future is unpredictable. ong>Theong> past is wellknown, and we were powerful in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries” (Foutz, Interview subject B005, 2009). In addition to the temporal distance, there is also a description of an experiential distance in how modern Georgians perceive their past. As we discussed how singing was integral to the life of Georgians of the past, one Georgian ethnomusicologist used the illustration of naduri (work songs). Instead of people singing as they worked in the fields as they did in the past, the machines now do the singing. “Material and technical progress”, as he described with an ironic smile. When I point out his smile, he elaborates: “It was not progress, but regress. It was the people’s choice. People like to more comfortable, to have cars – it was [a] big mistake in my opinion” (Foutz, Interview subject B007, 2009). He goes on to note that in many villages, these experiences are still present and are preserved, and that people try to reconnect to village life even in urban areas. I referenced the folk song, Tshkenosnuri, which is about riding on horseback, and knowingly asked a somewhat irreverent question. Why not sing or write songs about riding – waiting – on the marshutka (a small bus)? After laughing, he countered with the assertion that in the past, people sang as a community, and who could claim the riders of a marshutka are a community? ong>Theong>y are strangers to each other (Foutz, Interview subject B007, 2009). One interview subject’s experiential view of Georgian history, via translator, was stated this way. History will never be objective, and though we all like to idealize the past, such as the time of David the Builder, we don’t know the problems of that time. It would be a regression. Of course, one cannot live without the past, without your ancestors, or without culture – you must find balance between past and future with an orientation towards to the future (Foutz, Interview subject B004, 2009). Description of traditionality and examples in the data In the context of this paper, traditionality refers to a flexible concept of what constitutes a musical tradition. In developing this concept, I refer to Jocelyne Guilbault’s use of the works of Alasdair MacIntyre and Raymond Williams in her discussion of tradition in her book, Governing Sound. In her interpretation of MacIntyre, tradition is “an historically extended, socially embodied argument” (Guilbault, 2007: 6). Without the acceptance and participation of musicians, scholars, and other audiences in the historical practice of a

Ancientness and Traditionality in Georgian Traditional Vocal Music 397 behavior or action (such as Georgian vocal music), a tradition can not be a tradition. Guilbault connects this idea with Williams’ statements regarding “selective tradition” as “an intentionally selective version of a shaping past and pre-shaped present, which is then powerfully operative in the process of social and cultural definition and identification” (Guilbault, 2007: 6). In other words, the attitudes of Georgian ethnomusicologists surrounding their polyphonic vocal music illustrate the affective power of history on their perceptions of Georgian traditional vocal music. Traditionality, then, describes a flexible practice of belief that asserts a direct link to the past and to one’s ancestors. Where ancientness suggests a distance to an object, practice, or people, traditionality suggests a closeness or proximity. ong>Theong> application of traditionality to the Georgian case does not suggest a lack of authenticity. It is meant as an acknowledgement of potential influences and obstacles that people anywhere would experience as they practicing any tradition or ritual, musical or otherwise. ong>Theong> work of preservation of Georgian traditional music has been a difficult task. Established in 1860, the “Chant Reviving Committee” worked to preserve Georgian traditional vocal music for the younger generations through musical education and transcription of songs (Shughliashvili, 2002: 433). From 1880 to the 1910’s, researchers and composers such as Filimon Koridze, Polievktos and Vasili Karbelashvili, Razhden Khunadaze, and Ekvtime Kereselidze transcribed approximately five thousand Georgian traditional songs into Western notation (Shughliashvili, 2002: 432). Most likely, there were choices made about which songs and kilos to teach, transcribe, and record, and access to some musical practices were probably limited for a variety of reasons. Initially, it would seem a safe assumption to conclude that some of the original character of the collected songs has been lost due to standardization though the use of Western staff notation and deterioration of written documents and audio recordings. While specific points of Georgian scholars differ, as would be expected nearly anywhere, the surviving traditional vocal music is accepted by all Georgians I have encountered so far as authentic, with all the heavy baggage that accompanies that term. With that point in mind, there is the acknowledgment in Georgian ethnomusicological literature and in my interviews that some elements of their vocal music tradition has been lost or changed to be various degrees. One such example of this commonly encountered loss is the fact that remaining descriptions of the Svetitskhoveli school of sacred chant are few and tenuous (Shughliashvili, 2002: 432-433). This school of chant has a strong connection to Georgia’s historical identity. ong>Theong> eleventh century Svetitskhoveli Cathedral is located a former capital city of Mtskheta, one of the oldest cities in Georgia dating back to at least 1000 B.C. Mtskheta was the honored burial site of Georgian kings and the place associated with Georgia’s adoption of Christianity. To many Georgians, it is the center of Georgian Orthodoxy. As such, the mysteries around the Svetitskhoveli school of chant are particularly intriguing. Influences stemming from the Soviet period upon Georgian vocal music – such as the drastic increase in ensemble size, removal of improvisational harmony, adoption of Western tonal modes, changing of texts to better fit the Soviet ideology, moving the folk songs into the public performance context, and frequent suppression of sacred chants – most likely longer in some form, even as the recovery efforts continue. In discussing this influence and the rise of the “urban folksong”, Tamar Meskhi notes: “Despite the contemporary re-evaluation of the Soviet ‘modern folklore’ it is impossible to exaggerate its role in twentieth century cultural life… Side by side with the people’s traditional culture of ancient origin appeared a folklore of new formation, inspired by the ideology of the times. A circle of song samples with a new meaning and different musical language was established, visibly reflecting the pulsation of socialism, the world outlook changes of the important historical period, and the interests and principles cherishing it” (Meskhi, 2002: 499).

396<br />

Jeremy Foutz<br />

“root tune” and a “root language”. Joseph Jordania has written extensively <strong>on</strong> the subject, drawing from a<br />

wide body of knowledge including biology, historiography, manuscript studies, linguistics, speech pathology,<br />

and history in a truly multifaceted, ethnomusicological fashi<strong>on</strong> (Jordania, 2006). Evsevi Chokh<strong>on</strong>elidze also<br />

investigates polyph<strong>on</strong>ic origins in the Georgian c<strong>on</strong>text. In his article from the First <str<strong>on</strong>g>Symposium</str<strong>on</strong>g>, he explores<br />

the intersecti<strong>on</strong> of pagan and Christian religious cultures in the fourth and fifth centuries and the subsequent<br />

rise of the individual – both in religious practice and liturgical vocal polyph<strong>on</strong>y (Chokh<strong>on</strong>elidze, 2002: 107-<br />

108): “<str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g> prominence given to this individual factor caused significant changes resulting in the appearance<br />

of different structural types of polyph<strong>on</strong>y, stimulated polyph<strong>on</strong>ic thinking development and the countermovement<br />

of parts” (Chokh<strong>on</strong>elidze, 2002: 107).<br />

As part of his presentati<strong>on</strong> <strong>on</strong> the origins of Georgian vocal polyph<strong>on</strong>y, Tamaz Gabis<strong>on</strong>ia states that is<br />

it is “our duty, the duty of Georgian musicologists, to select the most solid and best-substantiated models of<br />

development of Georgian traditi<strong>on</strong>al polyph<strong>on</strong>y out of existing hypotheses” (Gabis<strong>on</strong>ia, 2004: 73).<br />

Similar attitudes regarding ancientness are found in interviews I c<strong>on</strong>ducted in 2009 in central Georgia and<br />

in Kakheti, as illustrated in the following quotati<strong>on</strong>: “You know, for example, in the advertisements I know<br />

of the western sort, you always advertise this is new. Georgians [in advertisements] very often would say, it<br />

is old. <str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g> old vojovi, the old vine, the old – even coffee, etcetera, etcetera. So the directi<strong>on</strong> of thinking is not<br />

future, but more past. It is again a kind of defense mechanism. <str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g> future is unpredictable. <str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g> past is wellknown,<br />

and we were powerful in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries” (Foutz, Interview subject B005, 2009).<br />

In additi<strong>on</strong> to the temporal distance, there is also a descripti<strong>on</strong> of an experiential distance in how modern<br />

Georgians perceive their past. As we discussed how singing was integral to the life of Georgians of the past,<br />

<strong>on</strong>e Georgian ethnomusicologist used the illustrati<strong>on</strong> of naduri (work s<strong>on</strong>gs). Instead of people singing as they<br />

worked in the fields as they did in the past, the machines now do the singing. “Material and technical progress”,<br />

as he described with an ir<strong>on</strong>ic smile. When I point out his smile, he elaborates: “It was not progress, but<br />

regress. It was the people’s choice. People like to more comfortable, to have cars – it was [a] big mistake in my<br />

opini<strong>on</strong>” (Foutz, Interview subject B007, 2009). He goes <strong>on</strong> to note that in many villages, these experiences are<br />

still present and are preserved, and that people try to rec<strong>on</strong>nect to village life even in urban areas. I referenced<br />

the folk s<strong>on</strong>g, Tshkenosnuri, which is about riding <strong>on</strong> horseback, and knowingly asked a somewhat irreverent<br />

questi<strong>on</strong>. Why not sing or write s<strong>on</strong>gs about riding – waiting – <strong>on</strong> the marshutka (a small bus)? After laughing,<br />

he countered with the asserti<strong>on</strong> that in the past, people sang as a community, and who could claim the riders<br />

of a marshutka are a community? <str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g>y are strangers to each other (Foutz, Interview subject B007, 2009).<br />

One interview subject’s experiential view of Georgian history, via translator, was stated this way. History<br />

will never be objective, and though we all like to idealize the past, such as the time of David the Builder, we<br />

d<strong>on</strong>’t know the problems of that time. It would be a regressi<strong>on</strong>. Of course, <strong>on</strong>e cannot live without the past,<br />

without your ancestors, or without culture – you must find balance between past and future with an orientati<strong>on</strong><br />

towards to the future (Foutz, Interview subject B004, 2009).<br />

Descripti<strong>on</strong> of traditi<strong>on</strong>ality and examples in the data<br />

In the c<strong>on</strong>text of this paper, traditi<strong>on</strong>ality refers to a flexible c<strong>on</strong>cept of what c<strong>on</strong>stitutes a musical<br />

traditi<strong>on</strong>. In developing this c<strong>on</strong>cept, I refer to Jocelyne Guilbault’s use of the works of Alasdair MacIntyre<br />

and Raym<strong>on</strong>d Williams in her discussi<strong>on</strong> of traditi<strong>on</strong> in her book, Governing Sound. In her interpretati<strong>on</strong> of<br />

MacIntyre, traditi<strong>on</strong> is “an historically extended, socially embodied argument” (Guilbault, 2007: 6). Without<br />

the acceptance and participati<strong>on</strong> of musicians, scholars, and other audiences in the historical practice of a

Hooray! Your file is uploaded and ready to be published.

Saved successfully!

Ooh no, something went wrong!