A dear friend who I shall refer to as “Iconoclast” was kind enough to write these Atavistic Notes for the NAP. Let’s give him a warm welcome, shall we?
ATAVISTIC NOTES
The following are some thoughts about art, particularly music, and its relationship with community. I happen to live in a community rich with artists and musicianship, centering in Astoria, OR. It is also a community rich in tradition, and a strong sense of *place *as nurturer of the human spirit. Check out our all-volunteer organized and operated public radio station, *KMUN *at www.coastradio.org, the gathering place for culture in the area.
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As for me, I live, as most of my neighbors do, on some acreage, with a garden, fruit trees, berry patches and lots of grass and weeds. A river runs nearby, fed by the drenching, cool rains that fall most of the year. I have a dog, several cats and the neighbor manages my pastures for hay and for grazing his cows. There is no daily newspaper, but information travels fast by word of mouth. I have also spent a part of each year since 1977 at a small village in the Aleutian Islands.
Music and the arts have richly influenced my life, but I have lived mostly on the fringes of culture, as an observer. Popular culture has never much interested me: the bestowal of adulation on any one befuddles me; rock concerts I attended as a youth made me claustrophobic.
Like many of my neighbors I am an outlier and contrarian, choosing the contradictory influences of distance and intimacy as a way of centering myself. Not exactly a crank, I can spout off like a kettle when left unattended too long; not exactly a cynic, I can sour if left too long in the sun. My faith is that a critical eye is not necessarily a jaundiced one, and that an inquisitive eye is the tour de force of humanity. I don’t tout these tendencies and situations of life or recommend them, but they do inhabit my every perception and thought.
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It wasn’t all that long ago in relative time that we human beings were spending our evenings by a fire in caves and entertaining ourselves by rapping bones together and telling stories.
This is an image I consider from time to time, when watching the human business around me and when reflecting on my own behavior, as bungled as it often is. I reflect that, despite our gussied up veneer, we really are in a nascent state, not far removed from our tribal past. It seems important to remind myself of this, not as a limitation or as an excuse for the harsh and brutal, for the instinctive survivalists that we are; but as a context for my own dear struggle to understand existence and the choices I, and the society I live in, make in confronting each day’s unfolding experience.
To that extent our cave dwelling forbears were not merely entertaining themselves, but were expressing themselves, using sound and color and intonations of voice to declare their existence. One can imagine the thinness of this in a world not yet dominated by human beings—not much more than a territorial bark, but symbolic of existence nonetheless.
Years ago I made a tape of the birds singing around my house on an early morning in spring. I placed a mic on an upstairs windowsill and turned the tape on and let it go until it stopped—45 minutes. Later, listening attentively with my eyes closed on my couch, I was struck by the passion and urgency of these calls, the insistence of the Robins for instance, and the warblers, and finally was greatly moved by the beauty of it.
And what is beauty but a deep homage to the connectedness of all things.
The only other thing that can touch me like this is art: poetry, painting, music. Especially music.
It seems to me that the creative act harkens to the deepest impulses of our being. When we survey a painting or listen to a piece of music, what is it that connects us in the end? Is it the precision of the brush strokes or notes, or use of color and tonality? We can parse out a work on many different levels, but finally I think it is how a work connects with us in some aspect or other, and the fullness of this connection that ties us to a creative effort and to the creator, and this is not describable in words—it is ineffable.
The point of all this elucidation is to make an exclamation point that we are tribal, or communal, in nature; and that we lose sight of this fact at our peril.
It wasn’t until the 20^th century and the introduction of film and sound recording, along with the cheap availability of paper (not to mention a mass populace graced with spare change & time) that we see the emergence of the artist as celebrity and “star” and the amassing of fame and fortune by those thus anointed.
These days, as well, there is a blurring of real talent with the merely outlandish and ostentatious, a dissing of tradition in favor of the avante garde, and a diminution of the artist as a binder of community in favor of the personal quest of the individual for success. There has been in art the same cheapening of spirit that we see elsewhere in our culture, in our politics, in sports, in food production, in our work—a crude obeisance to economic self-interest no matter what the cost to self-esteem or to the general welfare of society as a whole.
Most disturbing of all is our self-absorption, obsession with gadgetry and self-imposed isolation from the natural world.
Apparently, there is some perversity in human nature that allows us to be manipulated this way, against our better judgment. Allowing for our natural inclination toward good looks and charisma in general, it is still astonishing how much energy we spend attaching ourselves to people we can never know, or, inversely, seek that reassuring power over others for ourselves.
What has changed over the last century is that we now pay for most of our entertainment rather than creating it for ourselves. And our art and literature is manufactured and peddled to a large degree by businessmen and huge corporate structures. Technology has made it possible to share in an ever-wider range of traditions and to exalt in the exceptional skill and fluency of those at the height of their art. But it has also dangerously conveyed to a few the power to define and market “taste” which has diluted diversity and diminished our bonds with community further.
We can choose to act differently and in favor of community: we can spend our hard-earned money locally, attend local shows, purchase local art works, books, CDs of local bands, get involved rather than going it alone. Honor local traditions in music and song. And, dare I say, we can choose to listen to music that enhances our feelings of peace and goodwill rather than dwelling with the angry and nihilistic stuff. If it can be said, “you are what you eat,” why not “you are what you listen to.” Most of all, we can make concert with friends and neighbors making music, dancing, singing…… and embrace the shy to join along.
But back to my tape of bird songs and a final word.
Once when I was in a dark place that seemed ready to engulf me I tried desperately to find some music that would retrieve me. Nothing worked, not the anthems of youth, not “Maple On The Hill” or Jimmy Rodgers, not even Mahler’s 9^th Symphony, perhaps because it was too dark itself. But then I happened on the tape of dawn breaking in early spring. I had never fully realized the extent of this musical activity, how completely the air was filled with birdsong and all of it saying, Life, life, life! It grounded me and more.
Awake, and sing!
I reckon I have lived long enough now and had the variety of experience to say that I deeply fear for the estrangement of humanity from the natural world. In America the vast majority of people know only streets and manicured lawns and manufactured goods. Yet nature ought to be part of community; not just wild nature but the nature of farms, empty lots, and roadsides—all the beings and forms we have shared the Earth with for millennia. Nature is the great muse of all. It is all.
-Iconoclast
Thanks dude!
I found this video called “Angry hands Make Angry Music”.
I was wondering what you thought about this video.
It’s some possibly happy guys playing “angry” music for their community. I think they may share some of your naturalist appreciation.
Once again thanks for guest writing. It was nice to have you.
And also this video from Gojira, which is a heavy environmentalist band out of France. It’s just just called death metal. No one really dies.
Well said, ic. Your town sounds a lot like mine. And your views match mine pretty well also. Except that, I’m not sure why, but for some reason, to me, it seems fairly natural the way humanity is heading.
And I think you may not have wanted to imply that nihilistic and angry music always went hand in hand, right? music can be one without the other?
Unspeakable, do you think Neurosis considers the Ozzfest audience to be their community? I’ve never been to ozzfest, so i dont really know. But from what i remember from stadium shows they didnt really gave me too much of a community feeling, not anymore than say an airport might (but then again, last stadium show i went to must have been at least 10 years ago).
Anaconda,
I think that Neurosis considers the Ozzfest audience to be a part of their community. What else could they be considered, when they have shown up to support their music? I can only guess what the audience takes home from a show of that size, and I can honestly only guess what Neurosis takes home from performing for that type of crowd. Aside from the example of them playing a stadium show, the band has been active in their hometown community since inception. They put a lot into their local arts scene. They have their own label and support artists within their community on the label. I used that video of them, because I think it was one of the videos available that showed them as the artists they are, and the sound and camera work didn’t suck.
I do like your question, and I wonder how small does a community have to be?
How small does a community have to be? Depends on what you want, I guess. But here is one way to think about it:
Dunbar’s number, aka The Monkeysphere
I am currently working in one of those subsistence villages mentioned in the first link. The number of year round residents on the island right now is 18. There are an additional 15 people here on top of that number as part of a transient work force. Are we a “community” just because of the size? Uh.. in some ways, yes. In other ways there are plenty of examples to show that we work harder at our destruction than for our preservation.
“So how many monkeys would you have to own before you couldn’t remember their names? At what point, in your mind, do your beloved pets become just a faceless sea of monkey? Even though each one is every bit the monkey Slappy was, there’s a certain point where you will no longer really care if one of them dies.”
There will be groups within communities that have more in common than others. Suggesting that not being too sad about a community member dying as being the definition of that community’s right to have common interests and goals and so be called a community… is not taking into consideration the human element. The studies and reasoning above are based on primates and grooming, and not the complicated relationships of man. More than 2300 people can be part of a community. Will everyone react to the loss of a certain member the same? Will everyone react to changes in the community the same? No. Are we not a world community? Or are we the world? Are we the children? Are we the ones to make a brighter day?
I think before we get too much further into this we would need to define “community”.
Here’s Merriam Websters def.
So it’s not a word everyone uses the same way.
The members of the Britney Spears fan club might qualify as a community under some definition, but I don’t think thats what we’re talking about right? or is it?
Hey this was nice Ms. Unspeakable.
Two years ago, Tricia and I traveled for a Summer month all over practically every inch of Oregon. We have six very good friends there and that number is soon to be up to nine. So we will undoubtedly find ourselves back in that fine State. Reading this reminded me of everything I loved about that Summer of travel.
I’ve always been a city boy – New York, Houston and now Chicago. So that means I’ve always held a little fantasy about moving to a farm with some chickens, goats and a corn patch or something. But my wife grew up in the country and she’ll have none of that.
She’s got a point – and there’s a hell of a lot of truth to the John Prine song. But anonymity only goes so far in the city too. Where I live, we call the word of mouth news “the Bridgeport News.” And it is delivered faster than CNN on meth.
It wasn’t until the 20^th century and the introduction of film and sound recording, along with the cheap availability of paper (not to mention a mass populace graced with spare change & time) that we see the emergence of the artist as celebrity and “star” and the amassing of fame and fortune by those thus anointed.
That’s not exactly true – Mark Twain, for instance, was a true star in his day. But to some degree I’m with your friend’s writing…except that at this point in the game, technology has led to introspection on a much greater level. Everybody’s a star. Everybody gets fifteen minutes and the idea of the star (arena rock style) is degrading. I think in a good way.
I don’t whole heartedly buy the localism angle though. Not in America, where we have no local culture to speak of. But I do essentially agree. You have to make you and space around you worthwhile before you can worry about anywhere else. And friends around a table playing music? Hell f*ing yeah.
Alright Ms. Unspeakable – you can pass your friend my email address. If he wants he can get in touch. Might be through his neck of the woods and we might have to do a little picking.
Thanks for contributing. New voices are something we need more of around here. It takes some of the heat off me for a change.
I have an entire community living in my apartment on some weekends.
And I’m pretty sure we aren’t talking about Britney Spears fan club, though to be certain, we could just as well. This sounds more like a communal residential model of sorts. Me, I am probably your worst nightmare when it comes to how deeply I have disconnected both with nature and with community. I am intensely unplugged from those around me. Better still, when I spend too much around other people I begin to feel almost nauseous. How’s that for scary? The whole idea of a human community working together to better the group is fairly bizarre and insect like to me.
There. That ought to seal my coffin for a while more.
Thanks again for posting.
I guess a follow-up to my comments is in order. Unfortunately, my internet conn is by phone and slow and so viewing videos and such is difficult.
Thanks for the comments. It’s always good to get a dialog going to provoke our thinking.
That said, I want to clarify a few points.
First, anger has a place in art and music, of course. But, it seems to me that there is a lot of it these days and often it strikes me as mere sensationalism, designed to hype people up. A comparison might be made to the hate radio talk shows and the tabloid journalism we see so prevalent these days. It operates on the psychology of people–anger is a simple cheap emotion you can exploit. An example would be a lot of the rap stuff you hear. But in a more general sense I’m talking about where our emotions go when listening to music and I have to say, the reaction I have to a lot of the rock & heavy metal ouvre is that I feel hyped up, ready to fight, if you know what I mean, and I find this a cheap attractant. Why not focus on art that appeals to our nurturing side? Not the cheaply sentimental (lots of country music) or stuff that gets our blood lust up, or even just lust for that matter, and focus on music and art that has nuance and depth.
Let me be a bit more specific about what I mean about community. As one of you pointed out it can mean a lot of things. I guess I would say I mean community with a small “c”, that is, a localized, readily available group that is associated with “place” rather than, say, the community of folk musicians, which could be worldwide.
The reason this is important is for the same reason we need to shop locally and buy food at farmers markets, and center our lives in a place that is real to us, has real live people we meet face to face and deal with every day.
A point I tried to make is that we are essentially tribal and communal in nature–that is our evolutionary comfort zone. It is detrimental to our very survival to suppose that we can be self-sufficient and independent to the degree that we Americans believe. It’s a myth. Yet, our economic system and virtually everything our culture tells us is that we can operate in this way. As an example, Americans move, on average, once every five years. Basically “place” is unimportant and individual desire supreme (economic necessity plays a role as well). But the end result is that we lose the knowledge and intimacy with a landscape, with tradition, with a group of people that care about us, and the longterm investment in a community, whether it be a neighborhood or town. I’m convinced, as well, that we do better in life when there is stability, just as children, dogs and cats, or any being. Instability, to my mind, causes stress. But, hey, it’s a relative thing where balance is the key.
The bottom line is that individual “freedom” these days is very much at the expense of responsibility to others; responsibility to the larger community.
Wow, speaking of anger, my daughter just deleted my entire comment. This tops off my son overflowing his poop-filled toilet load on to the bathroom floor and rug because he felt he needed an entire roll of toilet paper to finish the job. And this preceeded my daughter spilling an entire cup of coffee onto the floor, my CDs, my DVDs, my books, my shoes, my rug, and herself (she’s fine). The mere thought of listening to music that touches on my “nurturing” side at times like this puts me near rage. I am listening to metal as we speak and feeling much beter for it. And I’m talking loud, bashing, violent sounding metal. And it is making me feel much better.
So there’s more to it than your oversimplified view is painting onto this discussion. If you meant to say that there is a lot of stupid music made by people who would like little more than to incite acts of violence through said stupid music, I guess I would get it, but I wonder ultimately how far off you are to blaming Judas Priest for some lost teen putting a shotgun to his head because “the music told me to”?
There is – thank god – more than one way to skin a cat.
As for our evolutionary “comfort zone,” within that parameter is all sorts of dubious behavior like bashing women over the head and dragging them back to our caves, but we don’t do much of that anymore. If living communally was so imperative for our survival, wouldn’t we be doing more of it instead of fantasizing about it? Didn’t the 60s teach us that communal living was a flop, and that it could only sustain itself more or less for the short term?
“As for our evolutionary “comfort zone,” within that parameter is all sorts of dubious behavior like bashing women over the head and dragging them back to our caves, but we don’t do much of that anymore.”
You don’t.