|
Richard Jernigan -> RE: Any fans of Nuevo Flamenco? (Jun. 7 2018 1:33:41)
|
quote:
ORIGINAL: Mark2
This I do know-selling music is a business. A rather difficult one if you happen to be a musician.
After traveling to Bali a few times I got to be friends with my regular taxi driver. He was a young man (not so young any more) from Bangli, one of the seven princely capitals before the Dutch finally took over in the 1920s. I showed up with a guitar one time. Nyoman asked me to play for him. "You are a musician!" he exclaimed. "You must come with me to gamelan practice day after tomorrow."
There are hardly any professional musicians in Bali, but there is a tremendous amount of very high quality music. Every town of any size has its orchestra, or maybe more than one. A princely town like Bangli has a very important gamelan, with a centuries-long tradition. You don't get paid to be in the city's orchestra. You pay dues to be a member. And you don't get to be a member without being an excellent musician.
At the rehearsal the guru (the only paid person) was teaching the piece he had composed for the annual contest at Denpasar. The piece was about fifteen minutes long, and comparable in complexity to an early Mozart symphony. The guru sat with a small marimba-like instrument. He pointed to the players of one of the many different kinds of instruments. "You play this," he demonstrated. The players responded by playing the passage. Pointing to another group, he repeated the exercise with their different part. Every musician played his part note perfect, having heard it only once. When all the different parts had been taught, they all played together. The guru made a few adjustments of dynamics and accentuation, but there were no wrong notes. This went on for half an hour, then there was a break for a smoke and a cup of coffee. Another half hour rounded out the teaching part. Then they played everything that had been taught up to that point, about seven minutes worth.
When the band went to Denpasar for the annual contest, a big group of fans from Bangli traveled along to support them. They cheered long and loud after their group played. They placed second in the island wide competition. The city turned out to receive them as conquering heroes when they returned home.
Sometime later my friend Nyoman asked me about music in the USA. I talked about classical music and jazz, comparing it in some degree to what he and his friends did. Then I tried to explain a little about the commercial music business.
Nyoman had a hard time figuring out what I was talking about. Finally he said, "But Richard, you are saying they are trying to sell you a song like it was a shirt or a piece of chewing gum."
"Yes."
Nyoman was quiet for a fairly long time. Finally he decided he knew me well enough to say what he thought.
"That is sad.....that is wrong. People are starting to sell songs here too, on the radio. They want to make the young people think a song is a fashion. They want the kids with money to buy a song like they have to buy Levis to be like the others, to be cool. But I think it is wrong. Music is not something to sell. Music is for the people, for the gods. It's an honor to be able to make music. You farm rice, you drive a taxi, you work in a hotel, then if you can make music, you take time to do it. You don't ask for money."
I once asked, "Nyoman, how did you learn to make music?"
"My father taught me. Some people it is their uncle, their cousin, their grandfather. When I began to be able to do it, he took me to the guru, and paid him to teach me. My father, my grandfather, we have been in the gamelan of Bangli for 12 generations, 10 of them for the Raja."
"Did the Raja pay your ancestors?"
"He made sure they had enough rice, but he didn't support them. They farmed rice. It was an honor to be able to make music."
A Balinese taxi driver's opinion--a member of one of the most musical and artistic cultures on the planet.
RNJ
|
|
|
|
