That would certainly be the case, hence my reservations about the Ortega at the Riot concert, which certainly conveys its anger and a general thrill of horror to any audience I should think, but as far as it being a wider Music for Political Change or even Awareness (other than in Chile) I am sceptical.
There was another piece that commemorated the Stonewall Riots, but that shifted between evocation of the event and generalised humanitarian emoting ('Let me breathe. Let me sing') accompanied by vibraphone (IIRC) which felt all very worthy but hardly a rousing anthem of liberation.
I must say (again) that I'm not sure how well music and politics ever mix, beyond using fairly crude song as a form of sloganising or banner, which is effective as far as it goes but leaves me uneasy; surely politics should be swayed by argument not an appeal to the Power of Melody (which either side can use)?
Is political music about directly inspiring action or political consciousness in the listeners? Cardew would have said so, exclusively; hence no music not easily understood by the 'pop-conscious audience' can be political. He even roundly rejects Rzewski's Coming Together for being too subjective (i.e. composerly) in its treatment of the material, and developing the 'hypnotic or hysterical' aspects of pop music rather than the 'positive' aspects. (Cardew Reader, p.188, from Stockhausen Serves Imperialism). We may not agree with Cardew, but his narrow definition of properly political music, when abstracted from the specifics of his communism, begs some difficult questions about what a political musical work is/can be, and what music is actually doing there?
I'd really like to hear both Richard and Ian elucidate some paradigms for politically-engaged music. The more I think about it the more I wonder what 'political' means. Is Beethoven 9 political? Where do politics stop and philosophy begins?
James, I'll try and post some more detailed thoughts on this issue if you want me to, but wanted to ask if you knew Adorno's essay 'Committment' (one of his very best, I think, along with 'The Ageing of the New Music'). It's in both the volume
Aesthetics and Politics, and in volume 2 of
Notes on Literature. That essay is about literature rather than music, mostly taken up with a critique of both Sartre and Brecht's 'politically engaged' work. Adorno's basic argument (I'm of course simplifying a great deal here) is that under late capitalism, there is less and less place for the expression of the individual subject; human beings are reduced to a merely functional role, becoming cogs in the capitalist machine. 'Political' art (which in this context refers to self-consciously leftist art), as Adorno sees it, apart from being for the most part ineffective in actual political terms, becomes part and parcel of this functionalisation and domination of subjective expression. Capitalist society can tolerate, even encourage, a certain amount of token 'dissenting' art, thereby becoming able to pat itself on the back for its pluralism and diversity, whilst in reality nothing changes. And in the process political artists become another cog in the machine, unwittingly lending sustenance to the very system they are supposed to be attacking. Adorno is even critical of Schoenberg's
A Survivor of Warsaw, saying it
'remains trapped in the aporia to which, autonomous figuration of heteronomy raised to the intensity of hell, it totally surrenders. There is something embarrassing in Schoenberg's composition - not what arouses anger in Germany, the fact that it prevents people from repressing from memory what they at all costs want to repress - but the way in which, by turning suffering into images, harsh and uncompromising though they are, it wounds the shame we feel in the presence of the victims. For these victims are used to create something, works of art, that are thrown to the consumption of a world which destroyed them. The so-called artistic representation of the sheer physical pain of people beaten to the ground by rifle-butts contains, however remotely, the power to elicit enjoyment out of it. The moral of this art, not to forget for a single instant, slithers into the abyss of its opposite. The aesthetic principle of stylization, and even the solemn prayer of the chorus, make an unthinkable fate appear to have had some meaning; it is transfigured, something of its horror is removed. This alone does an injustice to the victims; yet no art which tried to evade them could confront the claims of justice. Even the sound of despair pays its tribute to a hideous affirmation. Works of less than the highest rank are also willingly absorbed as contributions to clearing up the past. When genocide becomes part of the cultural heritage in the themes of ommitted literature, it becomes easier to continue to play along with the culture which gave birth to murder.' (
Aesthetics and Politics, p. 189)
Now, whilst there are issues where I take serious issue with Adorno, not least in his near-mystification of the Holocaust, placing it beyond the bounds of rational explanation, when rational explanation is precisely what is needed in order to attempt to prevent such a thing occurring again (an ontological view of the Holocaust is a mainstay of contemporary Zionist ideology, as well examined in Norman Finkelstein's
The Holocaust Industry - it is no coincidence that Adorno himself at least toyed with Zionism, supporting Israeli actions in both 1956 (writing a hideous letter to
Der Spiegel, together with Horkheimer, on this subject, describing Nasser as a type of Nazi in a way that would do Donald Rumsfeld proud) and 1967). But nonetheless, I think he does touch upon something very important, and my own critique of Nono's
Ricorda cosa ti hanno fatto in Auschwitz is based upon similar principles.
In general, 'Political' art with a capital 'P' is fraught with such problems, even if I would not go quite as far as Adorno. Cardew's late work, for which I have no time, does exemplify so much of what he is describing. But, on the other hand, music does exist in society and as such is inevitably a political phenomenon. Beethoven's Ninth is and was undoubtedly a political piece (there are at least three books looking at that subject). The real question is precisely
what are the ideologies sedimented therein (by no means the same thing as the conscious intentions of the composer). So instead of calling for 'political' art, we'd do better to recognise that art itself is political, whether we like it or not.
Yet most debates of this type evade direct questions of class, gender, race, and sexuality as might affect musical production and reception. The latter three of these (not the former) are mainstays of the New Musicology, though most of that work is total bunk. But the rather glaring fact that classical music per se (and especially new music) remain an extraordinarily white, male, middle class dominated field (in terms of gay men, there is plenty of representation, but much less so of gay women) cannot nor should not be avoided. Is that not a political question? And what are anyone's thoughts on this?