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FRIDAY, 30 OCTOBER, 1998 8:00 pm, Park Plaza Hotel Panelists Juan José Carreras (Universidad de Zaragoza) Walter Aaron Clark (University of Kansas) Malena Kuss (University of North Texas) Cristina Magaldi (Towson
University) •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
A Working Paper "Musicological Nationalism
or How to Market Spanish Olive Oil."
When a year ago I was asked by William Summers to propose a topic for discussion and to coordinate the Special Study Session in Boston, I was working on an article about some aspects of the historiography of Spanish cathedral music.(1) My work made me realize that, in Spain, some current conceptions about Spanish sacred music could be traced back to the nationalist tendencies of earlier generations of musicologists and had little to do with the music itself. Today certain nationalistic "tics," consciously or unconsciously, seem to be partly a result of the traditionally defensive (or victimist) attitude of Hispanic musicology in its effort to place our musical heritage in a prestigious position with respect to that of other Western nations. Even within Spain one finds the rivalry among the autonomous communities (Andalusia, Basque Country, Castile, Catalonia, Valencia, etc.) reflected in musicological writings. At the core of this defensive attitude we find the pressure (a) to present our composers as "the first ones" at having done something important, or at least as being at the forefront of musical developments, (b) to affirm at any cost the typical "Spanishness", "Catalaness", etc. of the music, avoiding any kind of criticism, (c) to deny or ignore a "good" quality to the music of other nations, so that we can attribute it to "us" exclusively, and (d) to proclaim the "independence" of our national music from any outside influence. Often this defensive attitude has been accompanied by the reluctance to see scholars from "other nations" work with "our" sources. The enormous development of Hispanic musicology during the last hundred years cannot be denied–and especially during the last two decades–but, since there is still a sense among Hispanicisits that the contribution to music history of Spain and Latin America is not sufficiently present in music history textbooks in English, I wonder whether this defensive, nationalist attitude may have been partly responsible for this present situation. Perhaps a different course of action would help correct this problem during the 21st century. This is the reason that I thought a Study Session could serve to analyze, from different perspectives, the current impact of nationalism on Spanish and Latin American musicology. The following discussion of certain issues in the historiography of Spanish music may serve to illustrate a few problems, and I imagine that similar ones may occur to a certain extent in the historiography of Latin American music. Given the poor opinion that other European nations had of Spain in the nineteenth century, this defensive attitude at that time is understandable. The negative picture presented in the 1852 "Rapport... sur l'état de la musique en Espagne" by François Auguste Gevaert to the Belgian government is representative of that situation.(2) Thus, Mariano Soriano Fuertes–considered the first Spanish music historian–felt compelled to state in 1855 regarding 16th-century polyphony: "We owe nothing to the Flemish musicians who came to Spain, but the ruin of our old musical schools... if, as Teixidor says, the Flemish could compete with us, that does not mean they were our teachers, when in fact they were our disciples."(3) Of course, this kind of unfounded statement did not help the Spanish cause much and could only worsen the image projected outside of the country. As Edmond Vander Straeten said later: "M. Mariano Soriano Fuertes consacre quelques lignes à la musique néerlandese en Espagne. Et quelles lignes!"(4) The founders of Spanish musicology intended to correct the kind of chauvinistic statements of la Soriano Fuertes by undertaking more serious research. In an 1888 letter from Francisco Asenjo Barbieri to Felip Pedrell, Barbieri wrote: "I have said it and proved it: the history of Spanish music lies under the dust of cathedrals' and convents' archives and until we find enough feather dusters and brooms, the world will keep thinking that in matters of art we are like kaffir people or zulues."(5) [my translation] I believe that that admonition became a sort of leitmotiv of Spanish and Latin American musicology in the 20th century. If Barbieri and Pedrell could be with us now, they would see with great satisfaction how much dust we have cleaned from cathedral archives in the last hundred years. It is evident that research in archives was and continues to be necessary, but the defensive mentality in the second part of Barbieri's admonition–when he says "...the world will keep thinking that in matters of art we are like kaffir people or zulues"–also permeated our historiography, i.e., the preoccupation with "demonstrating" to the world that we had a music history, typically "Spanish" (in this case) and one as important as that of other European countries.(6) Barbieri's words seem justified in 1888, when the opinions of Gevaert or Vander Straeten–who thought, for instance, that there was no Spanish polyphony before the 16th century–were still current. Although Vander Straeten's work (with much help from Barbieri) was very important to document a relevant aspect of Spanish music, his idea that: "L'Italie a reçu et a donné. L'Espagne a reçu sans rendre" [Italy has received and has given. Spain has received without giving back] (7) could only irritate and provoke a defensive response. These early negative experiences regarding foreign scholars working on Spanish music may have been partly responsible for the traditional reluctance to see "others" write about "our" music and also for the long time it has taken to realize that as more "foreign" scholars write about –and play– "our" music, the less we will need to ‘blow our own horn’. August Wilhelm Ambros, in the third volume of his influential Geschichte der Musik (1862-68), devoted to the Renaissance, had included sections about musicians from Germany, England, France and Italy. It is hard to explain why he did not do the same for Spain, even though the Spanish repertoire in the Cancionero Musical de Palacio had not yet been discovered. Interestingly, he discussed some Spanish composers (including Guerrero, who never worked in Italy) as members of the Roman School. Ambros listed some characteristics of Spanish polyphony, including mysticism, but he did not think there was a "Spanish school" and also affirmed that Morales was, as a musician, "...durch und durch niederländish gebildet...."(8) Thus, it is not surprising that Pedrell–while preparing the first volume of Hispaniae Schola Musica Sacra, devoted to Morales–would write to Barbieri on 31 July 1893 : "Quiero arrebatar Morales a los neerlandeses; no puede ser que hayan influído en su manera de componer"(9) [I want to steal Morales from the Netherlanders; it cannot be that they influenced his manner of composing]. The discovery of the "Cancionero Musical de Palacio" and its subsequent publication by Barbieri in 1890–as well as the ten-volume collection of Spanish sacred music which had already been edited in 1869 by Hilarión Eslava–should have settled the matter of the existence of a rich tradition of Spanish polyphony before, during, and after the 16th century. Strangely enough, H. E. Wooldridge, in The Oxford History of Music of 1905, characterized the music in the Cancionero Musical de Palacio as Flemish (!). He described Morales as a "somewhat dry composer" and reluctantly admitted the Spaniards "among the schools," but he seems to have contradicted himself by including the discussion of Spanish music in Chapter III ("The Netherland School") under a section entitled "The Offshoots of the Flemish Stock."
Wooldridge, "as we should of course naturally expect," devoted the following Chapter IV to "The English School," concluding with Chapter V ("The Perfection of the Method") dedicated to Lassus, Wilbye, and Palestrina and his followers; there is no mention, for instance, of Victoria in this volume encompassing the years 1300 to 1600. It is obvious that European musicological writings have often reflected the interest of the historian to present his own national legacy in the best possible light, and that viewpoint–together with a lack of accessible information about Spanish music– affects the vision that "others" project of Spain's contribution to the European scene. However, it is not my intention here to point the finger at other nationalist attitudes outside the Hispanic world, but rather to show how our own nationalist attitude may be, paradoxically, our worst enemy. After all, in The New Oxford History of Music, for instance, the coverage of Spanish music was expanded considerably and the section on 16th-century polyphony in volume IV (1968) was assigned to none other than Higini Anglès. Henri Collet presented in 1913 a very peculiar vision of Spanish polyphony which had an enormous influence on Spanish historiography. In his Le Mysticisme Musical Espagnol au XVIe Siècle, he proposed that there were not one, but four Spanish schools of polyphony–Castilian, Andalusian, Valencian and Catalan–with decreasing degrees of mysticism as we move from the center of the Iberian Peninsula to the periphery. Collet begins his chapter about Catalan composers [Flecha, Vila and especially Joan Pau Pujol] stating that, as we move closer to Italy, the profound sentiment of the Spanish Christian faith seems to change and weakens itself until it becomes superficial; according to him, Catalans cannot get rid of a "secret paganism."(11) Collet's analysis of the Missa pro defuctis by Pujol provides an excuse to reiterate conclusions adopted a priori. A few years later, the history of Spanish music written by the Spanish musicologist and diplomat Rafael Mitjana for the Encyclopédie de la Musique (1920) followed Collet to the point of repeating his statements about the Catalans almost verbatim.(12) It is not surprising that Higini Anglès, a Catalan, in order to refute Collet and Mitjana, would devote his first publication in 1926 to the complete works of Joan Pau Pujol, and later would state that he had done so to "prove" that musical mysticism is equally present in all the Spanish schools of polyphony.(13) Since then, narratives of Spanish 16th-century polyphony either present the composers grouped by regional schools, according to their geographical origin, or insist on the uniformity of all Spanish music. At the core of the problem is a particular nationalist conception of the Spanish territory which fundamentally distorts music history. Indeed, the circulation of cathedral music and musicians, for instance, followed patterns that had nothing to do with the present distribution of the Spanish autonomous communities. (14) Nonetheless, in the last few years the official sponsorship of musicological publications by the autonomous governments again favors this kind of irrelevant geographic segmentation. It should be pointed out that Mitjana belonged chronologically to the group of Spanish writers and intellectuals (Unamuno, Baroja, Azorín, etc.) known as the generation of '98, a year that marks the loss of the last Spanish colonies. That generation sought a national renewal, in part through a search for the essence of the Spanish "national character" which, it was thought, had made possible the glories of a distant past. As José Luis Abellán has pointed out, this generation had an enormous impact on Spanish historiography, since from the myth of the role of Castile as the creator of the Spanish nation came a centralist interpretation of Spanish history which identified its most important values with those of Castile.(15) That distorted conception has conditioned the perception of Spain (inside and outside its frontiers), but with the arrival of democracy and the subsequent development of the autonomous communities, the picture has changed dramatically. According to Abellán, the alternation between periods of isolation and periods of communication has been constant in our history. The first seeks to preserve pure the national essences from outside contamination and correspond to periods of national "tibetanización," using Ortega y Gasset's denomination; the periods of communication, on the other hand, are characterized by innovation, exchange with other cultures, and historic acceleration We believe that
it is among the Spanish musicians of that glorious epoch–Morales,
Guerrero and Victoria–where we should look for the most pure expression
of the musical sentiment, Christian and Catholic. No matter how illustrious
the masters of the Roman school may have been, they were not always
able to escape from that paganism, permanent and occult, which can
be discovered at any moment in Italian paintings of the 16th century
and which was a natural consequence of the Renaissance. Spanish austerity
did not trust the tempting graces, and thus sacred music of the national
schools owes to that its sober and severe greatness, its magnificent
and majestic character. In this sense sacred music could be considered
as a sister to the architecture that created El Escorial.(16) [my
translation]
In this peculiar
manner, Spanish historiography seems to have "stolen" Morales and the
other Spanish composers from the clutches of the Netherlandish and Roman
schools of polyphony. The comparison of polyphonists with Spanish painters
such as Zurbarán, Ribera, Murillo, and even Velazquez–Mitjana
avoided El Greco, probably because he was not born in Spain–had very
little to do with artistic style and only served the purpose of reinforcing
the Spanishness and Christian piety of the music. As José Antonio
Maravall and Julio Caro Baroja said long ago, "national characters"
constitute a myth which has been manipulated in many different ways,
and perhaps we should ask ourselves to what extent this myth is still
present in musicological discourse.(17)
Andrés Araiz, in his 1942 Historia de la Música Religiosa en España, stated that the differences between the regional schools of polyphony did not justify making a distinction among them, since a strong artistic internationalism was present in all of them. However, in order to emphasize the expressivity of Spanish polyphony, Araiz affirmed that Franco-Flemish polyphony lacked "expression" owing to its contrapuntal artificiality, and that although Spaniards had learned from them contrapuntal technique, the Flemish had learned from Morales how to be "expressive." If we see in Victoria
a polyphonic school in its complete apogee of expression, of form
and vocal technique, it is thanks to Morales, who introduced in polyphony
the expression that was missing in the old Flemish school, characterized
by its contrapuntal artifices coldly calculated. The Deutsch belonging
to Josquin Desprez's school taught the Spanish masters a technique
of rigid rules, but once they acquired the use of counterpoint, the
Spaniards from the early 16th century, guided by Morales, followed
the road of expression which was still untraveled, and little by little
they influenced the next contrapuntal school, whose most representative
figures were Palestrina, Victoria and Orlando di Lasso.(18) [my translation]
With Morales as
"inventor" of expression in sacred polyphony, the nationalistic "tic"
is maintained alive. Twenty-seven years later, in 1969, Miguel Querol
would repeat the same ideas about the "coldness" of Franco-Flemish polyphony
and the role of Morales as "inventor" of an element unknown until then.
If we compare,
for instance, the Missa de Beata Virgine by Josquin Desprez
with that of Morales of the same title, we realize that Josquin's
Mass –even though he is the most expressive of the Franco-Flemish
school–has no warmth, but when we hear sing Morales's Mass, we feel
our soul enter a warmer climate, where the depth of religious sentiment
surpasses all other value....
The reasons for his [Morales] fame were his complete mastery of the technique, his powerful personality and above all the fact that he introduced in religious music an element unknown until then: le pathétique. (19) [my translation] The echo of these
ideas could still be heard in the intervention of a distinguished Spanish
musicologist during the Colloquia Europalia III celebrated in Brussels
in 1985. The theme of the Colloquium was the relationship between the
music of the Low Countries and Spain (ca. 1450-ca. 1650), and José
López-Calo, in his effort to distinguish Spanish from Flemish
polyphony, stated:
The second characteristic
appears also very clearly: a certain coldness that can be noticed
in Flemish compositions of this period, while the Spaniards leaned
more towards expressivity.(20) [my translation]
It is not known
what reception this idea had in Brussels, but if Edmond Vander Straeten
would have been there, he may have exclaimed once again, after one hundred
years, "Et quelles lignes!". There is no doubt about the important contributions
by Querol and López-Calo to Spanish musicology, but sometimes
their statements–as when they affirm that polychorality appeared first
in Spain– reveal a long tradition of musicological nationalism that
cannot be supported.(21) Moreover, the defensive nature of López-Calo's
historiographical perspective can only lead to musicological isolation.
But above all,
there is the music, perfectly uniform in all the most varied Spanish
regions, which constitutes an authentic national block. Thus, Spanish
music, in the 17th-century as well as in the other centuries, has
to be studied as a unity completely independent from everything outside
Spain; this unity is identical for the entire geographical extension
of the nation, including the provinces in the islands and –what is
most admirable– including those [countries] in Latin America.(22)
[my translation]
This statement may
reflect López-Calo's pioneering work cataloguing hundreds of
similar kinds of pieces found in cathedrals' archives all over the Iberian
Peninsula, but I don't think that his conception of Spanish music as
a "national block... to be studied independently from everything outside
Spain" should constitute the program of Hispanic musicology for the
21st century.
To question an isolationist model of "national block" does necessarily suggest a defense of a model of regional schools with international connections, especially if–as it is often the case–it is not supported with solid arguments. In the prologue of a study about musicians at Barcelona Cathedral during the 17th century–in which, although there are transcriptions, no musical works are discussed– Miguel Querol falls into this other kind of regional nationalist "tic". Our musicians
[Catalans] liberate themselves of impositions and–no matter whether
they use Latin or Castilian–they are able to keep the autochthonous
characteristics, and in their work always transpires the spirit and
original qualities of our culture while at the same time they immerse
themselves in the artistic European currents of the time. All this
makes possible that Barcelona and Catalonia are not marginalized of
the evolving musical process and thus occupy an important place in
the culture of the Baroque.(23) [my translation]
What autochthonous
Catalan characteristics can be discerned in these 17th-century works?
None. Has anyone described them? No. I was born in Barcelona and, as
a Catalan, I believe that this sort of gratuitous statement is even
harmful to any genuine kind of nationalist interest.
José Climent, another member of the older generation of Spanish musicologists, also has his own nationalistic agenda, although his interests lie in Valencia. In the 1997 book Villancico Barroco Valenciano, published by the autonomous government of Valencia, Climent states: "I don't have any doubts that Valencia is an independent kingdom, isolated, with its own forms...," etc. And, of course, the myth of the "inventor" is also present in this book: "...Comes is also the creator of a new musical form that, although it continues to be called villancico,... it will end up being the kind of composition that can be compared with the German cantatas." Among the most questionable things in the book is the title of a chapter devoted to two 17th-century chapel masters who were not born in Valencia; their period of activity is characterized as "Un retroceso estructural" [A structural retreat].(24) The nationalist (centralist and regional) perspective has produced a dysfunctional gap between the vision of Spanish music history from inside Spain and from outside, and that gap can only be bridged by adopting new attitudes and strategies which would seek to emphasize with solid scholarship the musical connections of the Iberian Peninsula with the rest of Europe and Latin America. Generations of younger musicologists trained in universities are starting to produce fine work, and hopefully chauvinistic statements will be kept under control. As I mentioned before, Hispanic musicology has developed enormously in the last few years, but still there is much to be done in terms of the dissemination of serious scholarship in anglo-saxon speaking countries and in the adoption of new models and methodologies. To show the kind of road that needs to be traveled, I would like to comment briefly on the revised edition of Oliver Strunk's Source Readings in Music History, which has just been published in 1998 with Leo Treitler as General Editor.(25) In the introduction to the texts selected for "The Baroque Era", the editor Margaret Murata states: "I apologize to Hispanicisits for the continued absence of historical sources from Spain and its far-flung colonies".(26) Indeed, of the 41 selections for the Baroque there is not a single excerpt by a Spanish or Latin American author. Of a total of 214 excerpts in the entire book, only five are by Spaniards (none by Latin American authors): 2 appear in the Middle Ages section (Isidore of Seville and Aegidius of Zamora); and 3 in the Renaissance (Bartolomé Ramos de Pareja, Fray Toribio de Benavente [Motolinia], Bartolomé de Segovia). The last two deal with the music in the New World. As Treitler states in the "Foreword": There is need
to develop further these once-marginal strands in the representation
of Western music history, and to draw in still others, perhaps in
some future version of this series, and elsewhere–the musical cultures
of Latin America for one example, whose absence is lamented by Murata...
(27)
Any Hispanicisist may find frustrating this absence precisely in 1998, but he/she should ask about the possible reasons that explain it and ultimately strive to find solutions to reverse this situation. Were the editors unable to find relevant readings? Did they even consider the possibility of including sources from these regions? Independently of whether past nationalist historiography has anything to do with this omission or not, at least Murata's apology recognizes that these source readings are incomplete without the contribution of the Hispanic world. We now need to do our share to complete the task. Rather than wasting time blaming the "others" or re-entrenching ourselves in nationalist isolation, we should offer an immediate, positive response. I suggest that a bilingual project, "Source Readings in the Music History of Spain and Latin America," be launched in order to fill this significant gap and to provide access to the abundant material available on this subject, some of which could well be incorporated in future editions of Strunk's landmark publication. The marketing of Spanish olive oil mentioned in the title of this essay may serve as a useful, albeit unusual, metaphor to end these comments. As you may know, Spain is the world's first producer of olive oil, whose good qualities I don't think I need to extol to the reader. Last summer, Spain negotiated in Brussels with the European community the subsidies that the producers will receive per ton of olives, and the result was very disappointing. Of an expected Spanish crop of over a million tons, only ca. 670,000 tons will be subsidized, while the production of other European countries will be subsidized in full, and it has been said that their production figures often do not correspond with the reality. As a result Italians are very happy about the deal and Spanish growers, furious; besides, Italians will keep buying Spanish olive oil in bulk to commercialize it as their own in nice bottles. Why did this happen? There are many issues involved, but it has been suggested that the way Spaniards negotiated was flawed, especially since the Secretary of Agriculture, rather than seeking support in other European capitals, often was at the front of street demonstrations against the European Commissioner in charge of the matter. That is certainly not the way to negotiate with Brussels. How does this story apply to musicology? In many ways. Our musical patrimony is enormous and very valuable, but we should know how to fight for it more efficiently and how to present it in better ways to others. If, instead of beating our own Hispanic drum at home, we would seek more often to communicate our musicological findings and points of view to a larger audience outside our national and linguistic boundaries (I know many of you do!), perhaps we would see more often those findings and points of view reflected in the international musicological literature. I sincerely believe that the scholarly community is eager to receive our production, if it is presented properly and without nationalist bias. An excellent recent example is the Plenary Session that took place during the Congress of the International Association of Music Libraries (IAML) in San Sebastián (Spain) last summer. Representatives from Argentina, Colombia, Cuba, México and Venezuela spoke about their respective patrimonies of 19th century music and the work being done in some of their Centers of Music Research and Documentation. That session made an excellent impression upon librarians from all over the world. I hope that our Session
in Boston–in which there will be ample time for discussion–will be equally
successful and help us to understand more fully the impact of nationalism
in Spanish and Latin American historiography.
NOTES (1) The article,
"Historiografía de la Música en las Catedrales Españolas:
Nacionalismo y Positivismo en la Investigación Musicológica,"
appears in the first issue of a new journal, CODEXXI, 1 (1998),
published in Barcelona under the auspices of the Universitat Pompeu
Fabra. I refer to this article for a more detailed discussion and bibliography.
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