April 7-10, 2005

University of Pittsburgh
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

Bell Yung & Andrew Weintraub

    While the field of human rights was created to promote and protect individual rights,the field of cultural rights embraces group rights as well. In the latter sense, cultural rights may be understood to “include a group's ability to preserve its culture, to raise its children in the ways of its forebears, to continue its language, and not to be deprived of its economic base by the nation-state in which it is located.” ¹ To the last phrase one might add “by the trans-national and globalized environment within which it is located.

    In examining cultural rights, we recognize that individual rights exist within a group. There is the potential for not only individual creativity but also non-conformity and resistance. We also recognize the difficulty of defining who belongs to a “group” and who does not. Culturalist claims (sometimes referred to as ethno-nationalism or strategic essentialism) can be made by any group, including reactionary ones as well as progressive ones. The discourse about cultural rights can be used to constitute communities or cultures as people adopt a kind of language and forms of representation even though those are alien to their own self-understanding. They can essentialize their culture for a political goal, even though that cultural understanding does not even exist. Who owns culture and who can claim cultural rights, be it an individual or a group, are not trivial questions and have immense political and economic ramifications. Dealing with cultural rights, with its abuse and its protection, and with how “group” rights are to be reconciled with “individual” rights, have no simple and straghtforward answers.

    Music-making is an individual and a communal activity, and music is both an artistic expression of an individual and the spiritual and emotional nourishment that sustains a group’s sense of identity and pride. Much attention has been paid to individual creativity and the rights that pertain to it; for example, scholars and advocates have been doing important work on intellectual property rights and copyright law as legal instruments for determining and enforcing individual ownership and control to access. However, little attention has been paid to a group’s right to receive, share, develop, enjoy and be inspired by music, which is as fundamental to humanity as are other human rights. Music provides an important means for the transmission of knowledge and ideas across regions and generations. The loss of access to music can mean the loss of a group’s sense of shared identity and, ultimately, their sense of self.

    The concept of musical change is central to cultural rights. Music evolves and adapts to changing social conditions that are shaped by political upheavals, economic developments, and ideological shifts. In recent decades, the rapid development of new media technologies and the global spread of a market economy have become major factors in the transformation of music. These factors and the resultant changes in music, however, have the potential to come into conflict with the cultural rights of individuals and groups.

    The issue of musical change within the discourse of cultural rights is certainly not a trivial issue. Musical activities may be considered by some as simply individual choices made to fulfill creative impulses; to others they may be inseparable from daily social life. Musical activities do not exist in a vacuum but are intimately tied to historical, cultural, and social processes. It goes without saying that musical traditions never remain static but constantly change in relation to political, economic, and ideological conditions. Pressure for change is exerted by government, commercial, community, and individual agents. Globalization – the rapid movement of ideas, images, capital, technology, as well as music and musicians across national and ethnic boundaries – has introduced new factors into the playing field of musical change. Globalization has generated new musical styles, new musical technologies, and new hybrid genres. It has created new possibilities for musicians to earn a living from their art, but at the same time it has redefined local identities and practices. In many cases, the globalization of music has resulted in the homogenization of styles, the corruption of aesthetic criteria, and the commodification of music targeted mainly to the affluent urban markets of the world.

    These issues arising from the globalization of music may be articulated by examining any number of newly developed genres and styles. For example, the recently popularized category of “world music” signifies a commodity of sounds, genres, and forms that participates in rapid global processes of cultural production, distribution, and consumption. “World music” feeds on the great variety of traditional musical genres and styles from around the world, but necessarily transforms them according to market demands.

    In this global environment, the players involved in the production, distribution, and consumption of music are different from those in the past. Local musical industries have become important to local economies in many parts of the world (for example, reggae in Jamaica; mbaqanga in South Africa; zouk in the West Indies; dangdut in Indonesia). Many locally based genres have also taken root in the global imagination through an increasingly globalized economy of music. In the case of “world music,” the targeted audience tends to be members of affluent communities who are likely to be unfamiliar with the original musical styles that inspired “world music.” Thus, the most prominent players to affect musical change are often not rooted in or knowledgeable about local traditions. Back home, the local and national governments that formulate and enforce cultural policies have their own ideological, political, and economic interests at stake; their policies are often enmeshed in transnational economic and political concerns. Musicians negotiate within this web of forces as they strive for artistic and financial self-interest, often with mixed results.

    In the process, musicians may become confused about whom they are supposed to serve; others seize economic opportunities to cater to the wishes of an affluent market. Advised, persuaded, or coerced by producers who are familiar with the market taste, musicians transform their art into new sounds, sounds that fit into what the producers expect the market will buy.

    Often such products flow back to the home community in which the music originated, being hailed by some as progress, but condemned by others as corruption. Because of the asymmetrical power relations that exist between “world music” producers and musicians, the battleground is not a level playing field. Furthermore, the new style, which has been shaped by the tastes of consumers often an ocean away, may influence the cultural practices of the people who originated that style. The new style often becomes the only style to represent a cultural community to the unsuspecting world audience. As a result, other forms of music are devalued and excluded from representation. In short, the musical identity of a community may be altered by forces beyond the control of the community. This common scenario raises crucial questions: Who owns music? Who has the right to transform music? What constitutes a cultural rights violation? What are the artistic, political, and economic reasons for these transformations? What are their implications? What role, if any, should regulatory agencies have with regard to monitoring cultural rights?

    For musicians, the globalization of music has meant opportunities for some and hardship for others. Do musicians also have a level of artistic responsibility for the fusions that they create and for the potentially radical artistic changes that arise out of these fusions? How do concert curators achieve a balance between the dual responsibilities of answering to the marketplace and representing musicians fairly and honestly? How do cultural officials and policy makers become more deeply involved in the activities of music-makers, educators, and producers to ensure that their policies protect cultural rights on the one hand, and promote the music to a global audience on the other? What responsibility do music industry producers have in terms of the production, packaging, and distribution of recordings? What measures can be taken by academics to ensure a more active, enduring, and more engaged role in the lives of the people they study?

    This conference aims to bring into focus the relationship between music and cultural ownership, cultural rights violations, cultural rights abuses, and cultural protection; to examine the relationship between individual and group rights; and to propose methods for the institutional recognition and protection of traditional forms of knowledge and expressions of culture. Our goal is to create a dialogue among people from different sectors of music including musicians, concert curators, cultural officials, policy makers, music industry executives, foundation directors, legal experts, and academics. Participants will jointly address the intersection between the globalization of music, cultural rights, and individual and institutional responsibility, and we will explore policies in response.

    The conference will bring together 25 presenters to address the following themes: (1) individual and community entitlement; (2) globalization; (3) music and cultural rights violations; (4) promoting awareness of music and cultural rights issues; (5) safe-guarding music as a cultural right; and (6) alliances and partnerships.

    The focus of the conference will be on musical genres from different parts of the world that are rooted in local histories and traditions, and the ways in which they are being transformed by processes of globalization. The conference aims to develop a multi-dimensional understanding of this rapidly changing world by examining the ways in which scholars, artists, policy makers, and activists negotiate, accommodate, and counteract these changes.

Appendix: Case Studies of Tibet and Colombia

    One example of rapidly changing music is that of Tibet, an example that illustrates multiple political and economic forces at play on a global level. The main players in this case are non-Tibetan consumers, transnational producers and promoters, the musicians, and the exiled Tibetan government. The Tibetan case is particularly interesting because it involves Tibetans living inside China in what is currently called the Tibetan Autonomous Region and in Qinghai, Gansu, Sichuan, and Yunnan provinces; as well as Tibetans living outside of China, mainly in Dharamsala.

    The non-Tibetan consumer, first and foremost, fuels the movement for Tibetan musical change. Once relatively isolated, Tibetan music in its recent incarnation has become a part of the Free Tibet movement in the West, and has drawn great attention from music lovers concerned with Human Rights. The promotion of the music also capitalizes on the West’s romantic notion of Tibet as a lost paradise. With genuine admiration of an imaginary and idealized culture, and concern for what is perceived as an oppressed people, the consumer feels an altruistic attraction to a good cause.

    The producers and promoters know that, in its “raw” form, the music is not conducive to the development of a mass market. They strive to accommodate and satisfy the needs of a large market by transforming the music into something they consider to be more palatable by adopting musical expressions that are more familiar to the targeted audience. Furthermore, they enhance the market for the music by linking music with the politics of Tibet.

    The transformation of this music is not possible without the participation of Tibetan musicians for both artistic and political reasons. Some musicians, including Yungchen Lhamo, may see this as an opportunity to reach out and share their songs with a larger audience to fulfill artistic, political, and economic goals. Others, however, are excluded from participating in the representation of Tibet because their music does not fit a predetermined aesthetic ideal.

    Finally, the exiled Tibetan government has been involved in a political struggle with the Chinese government for decades. Its power lies in its ability to generate international attention, particularly from the West. The performing arts offer the most effective way to reach out to sympathetic audiences for support. It is quite understandable that the Dharamsala government should be concerned equally with artistic integrity and with political efficacy.

    Tibetan music has rapidly evolved in this arena where artistic, political, and economic interests interact. A recent case study tracking the commercial recordings by singer Yungchen Lhamo dramatically illustrates the process of transformation. These recordings are adorned with the kind of “light and easy” musical sound favored by the Western consumer of popular culture, often with electronic enhancement. The recording has superb recording techniques, stunning visuals in the accompanying booklet, and flashy design and packaging. When these products are reintroduced into the home community, one of the poorer regions of China, their reincarnation is likely to fascinate and enthrall. The glamour attached to the promotion, distribution, and consumption of the discs in the West is likely to give the impression that the simple and unadorned original versions are simplistic, crude, and backward.

    The case of Tibetan music is merely one of many examples that demonstrate how local musicians and audiences often find the rapid political and economic changes on a global scope difficult to deal with. As a result, the cultural rights of the people are being compromised, with consequences that may not be as obvious as prison walls or famished children but may be equally destructive to the well-being of a community.

    A second example of musical change that causes concern is from South America. The people of Colombia have suffered more than six decades of violence from a variety of causes, including political insurgency and drug trafficking. The eastern plains of Colombia, watered by the Orinoco River and its tributaries, are home to a rich cattle-herding culture and unique musical heritage, música llanera ‘plains music’.

    Historically shared with the neighboring region of Venezuela, the culture of the llanos ‘plains’ defines one of several major regions of Colombia. Música llanera consists of a rich store of sung poetry, head-to-head poetry competitions, song repertoire, and instrumental improvisation. The fast-paced joropo music for singing and dancing embraces two musical genres--golpe and pasaje—each with its range of repertoire. Distinctive regional instruments include the arpa (diatonic harp), cuatro (small guitar), and bandola (four-stringed melody guitar). Llaneros are proud of their region’s natural beauty, lifestyle centering on cattleherding and horsemanship, and joropo music and dance traditions. However, while the llaneros have persevered in practicing their music, the challenges presented by their society under stress impede their freedom to participate in their musical life to the fullest extent and limit their ability to reap the material benefits of their musical assets.

    Violence and the associated economic depression have caused tens of thousands of llaneros to migrate to the capital city of Bogotá in the central Andes or to leave the country entirely in search of a better life. Colombia in general has the highest rate of displaced population in the Western Hemisphere. ² In the plains, the lack of security, violent crime, and dampened freedom of travel inhibit the free practice of music in community cultural occasions. Tourism is nil, depriving the local people of significant revenues from people attending musical events. Government support for the practice and learning of música llanera exists, but it is not enough.

    In the urban capital, displaced llaneros struggle to maintain a positive sense of self, and separation from family, community, and regional cultural life cuts them off from the sources of their music. Música llanera has gained a niche in the marketplace, but its commercial success is limited in most part to the mere accompaniment of solo vocalists exploiting the “star system” favored by the music industry that prefers to market single stage personalities rather than entire traditions. And, in keeping with the demands of such a system, the vocalists and producers in turn discourage musical creativity and adventurousness on the part of the musicians who back them up. Ironically, the aesthetic hierarchy accompanying música llanera’s commercial success requires that the music’s quintessential spontaneity and improvisatory nature be abandoned.

    The tyranny of violence, lawlessness, social displacement, and commercial interests inhibits people of the eastern Colombian plains from freely participating in their cultural life, including music performance and appreciation. It furthermore prevents llaneros from exploiting their cultural assets for material benefit. A vivid recent example of this is the current attempt of a nonprofit organization to present a program of horsemanship and music from the region in the United States. Travel restrictions in the area discourage the organizers from visiting the area to identify the artists they would invite and consequently deprive the llaneros from income and public exposure which would benefit them. Finally, the commercial music industry offers some recompense for llanero musicians, but at the price of relinquishing their musical essence. In sum, these oppressive conditions constitute a violation of llaneros’ human, cultural, and musical rights.