Courage: Part 1-2

Keira lay on her bed attempting the culmination to a story she no longer felt was worth the effort.  Writer’s block was more than a wall that hindered her progress; it was a war she quietly fought within herself.  She was too distracted with the complications of life to finish what she now considered a frivolous story.  If she could only get a little respite from the stifling world she lived in then perhaps her passion could be awakened again. 

The year was 1512 and England was beautiful.  Rolling hills, immense forests and a jutting coast line where the wind wrapped around everything in its place with the mischief of a ten year old boy.  Nights brought dense fog and a chill so cold it went straight to the bones.  The quiet hours of the dawn brought dew that stuck to the meadows and brought the magic of nymphs to the otherwise cold dark reality that plagues the world of humans. 

The constant threat of war was no stranger to these parts.  It was beating on the preverbal door and Keira knew her role in preventing one with the French would not be small.  It was not uncommon for daughters to be the alliance builders, as marriage was a way to make people believe that family was stronger than the political pressures of the world.  She also knew, marriage to any one of the potential suitors would mean nothing without producing a male heir, there by strengthening the alliance through blood.  But all Keira wanted was a quite life with her parchment in the solitude of the arms of the love she knew was out there…somewhere.  But, as her parents were quick to point out, it was improper for a young lady to write stories, she should be learning the role of painting, and reading, being able to entertain a king.  It was not looked highly upon for a woman to hold any ideas of her own.    

Yet, Keira, did not want to marry a king.  It was her simple wish to live a simple life with a God fearing man who would love her for who she was, not who he wanted her to be.  Someone like the quite knight who liked to polish his saddle and brush his horse in solitude, always in what seemed quite prayer, would be perfect for her.  But he was not one of the many suitors who continually pursued her hand.  Keira was beautiful; there was no doubt about that.  Her long dark hair would flow behind her swirling in the wind of the moors where she liked to take walks.  Her dark blue eyes and pale skin were contrasts to the mane she wore that drew even the most closed of hearts.  She had her father’s kind hearted wisdom and her mother’s beauty; the heart of every Englishman except Sir Charles. 

The future was stifling.  Keira walked to the window to get a breath of fresh air.  The cool breeze was welcome relief as it hit her face and incorporated itself into her very being.  She breathed deeply.  She could see the castle stables from her second story window.  From here they looked like peaceful churches full of penitent patrons and solemn monks.   Within those sturdy walls she knew all the knights from every district would be busily brushing horses, polishing suits of armor, or working on fighting stances just beyond the stable doors.  There would be commotion so grand it would pulsate through the walls.  The innocent bystander would walk away with an unfamiliar ringing in their ears.  Every knight prepared to fight for the ultimate prize – Keira’s hand and ultimately the kingdom. 

Keira’s eyes began to burn with tears as she realized she would never be happy with any of the knights in that stable.  Their masculine views of a woman’s role shaped by society since childhood; she stood no chance of being herself if she married one of them.  They would demand a docile creature, quite, speaking only when spoken to.  Her passion for life would be squelched with every day of the weary political decision making being consulted only for signature here or there never for what she really thought.  She was a bead at a bizarre being bid and bargained for.  She was not a human with a soul, but a piece of meat sold to the highest bidder.  Anger shot through her like a lightening bolt.  How could they expect her to resign herself to this?  The monotony itself would be death. 

Then, as if an answer to her prayer, she saw him - the solitude, penitent knight who always seemed so distant to her.  She remembered walking by the stables as a child hoping to catch his eyes, and then always asking him to saddle her horse for rides as she got older.  He never complained and always held her in high regard, but always limited their interactions to the bare minimum. 

Sir Charles, tired and sweaty from the days work, slowly walked his black stallion, Magnificent, toward the stables.  His copper hair reflected the sunlight as it stuck to his face from sweat.  As though he could hear her silent calls to him, he looked up to see her tear stained face in the window.  She quickly turned away.  She could not let him see her in this weak state.  This ugly state – red eyes and blotched skin. What she did not realize, and what Sir Charles did in that one moment of seeing her weakness, was that he loved her.  He loved her with every fiber of his being.

He, too, remembered those days when he taught her about horses.  He remembered her childish innocence and willingness to learn.  Always wanting to accomplish things on her own, but always being self aware of her weakness.  He remembered as she grew in grace and confidence when she would demand the respect of all in her presence by simply entering the room.  He knew he had always loved her, now if only he could show her how much. 

A young stable boy had the stealth of a knight running up the many corridors of the castle and ducking into the dark shadows of the towers as he secretly delivered an unexpected note.  He was a young boy Keira had only seen once helping Sir Alex (her unspoken betrothed) fix the saddle on his horse.  She felt so bad for the boy to have to work for that atrocious knight, her heart cried out for him.  Alas.  When she saw the young boys face of innocence, her heart sunk that night, praying the letter he delivered was not meant for her, was not from Sir Alex.  She considered having Lady Petunia turn the boy way.  But the kind heartedness of Lady Petunia stayed her heart and she let the boy approach. 

“My Lady, a note from Sir Charles,” the young boy breathlessly blurted.  His brow was wet with sweat, his chest heaved from his ordeal. 

Sir Charles?!  Keira could not believe her ears.  She was so certain Sir Charles did not even recognize her existence.  Surely she had heard wrong.  She held her breath as she reached for the letter.  Heart stalled, she broke the seal and began to read. 

“My Dearest and Truest Love,

‘Had he really said love?’ Surely she was imagining her wildest dream come true.

I have loved you since you were a child and took walks by the stable and now as you have grown and ride those horses by the sea with such grace.  I liken you, my darling, to a mare harnessed to one of the chariots of the King, your father.  Your cheeks are beautiful with earrings, your neck with strings of jewels.  How beautiful you are, my darling!  Oh, how beautiful.  Your eyes are doves.  Like a Lilly among thorns is my darling among the maidens and ladies of the court. 

How can I give you up to Sir Alex?  How can I hand you over to him?  My heart is changed within me, all my compassion is aroused.  But I will go to battle for your heart, my Love.  I will fight for you with the heart of a lion, as God fought for Israel. 

My dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places on the mountainside, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face lovely.  Come to me, my dove, tonight by the stables.  I must see your face. 

                                                                                    In love for you always,                                                                                                                     Sir Charles”

As the mere shock of receiving such a note faded, she looked to Lady Petunia imploringly.  What was she to do?  How would she be able to get out of the castle at such a late hour?  As always, Lady Petunia had the answer.  She would throw on Lady Petunia’s cloak, keep her head down, and walk as though she were finishing her nightly duties with the Princess tonight.  For all intensive purposes, tonight she could be invisible to all. 

Keira threw the barrowed tattered cloak on and as slowly as she could she rushed to the stables.  She had grown with excitement as she journeyed to the stables, and there was a great hollowing in her heart as she realized she was alone.  Certainly she had not been mistaken.  Perhaps the last hour had just been the dream she had always imagined.  Perhaps, she was destined to be alone or with the one who could never love her for her.  After all, it was no secret Sir Alex expected her to carry on tradition, to put down the pen, and to let him govern.  She was destined to a life of deep sorrow and bitter pain.  As her heart began to harden against the mere idea of love, Keira began to cry. 

There was a noise at the stable doors.  Keira hid behind a pile of hay, her tears stuck to her face, but she dared not make a sound.   Trying to hold her heaving breath and still the increasing beat of her heart, she thought of all the terribly possible situations that may occur tonight.  No one, aside from Lady Petunia, knew where she was, and dressed as she was she would gain no respect.  Her heart beat with fear within her as the shadow moved closer to her.  Each step echoed menacingly in the empty room. 

Then she saw the familiar shadow.  Here heart could not take the suspense any longer and she ran toward him.  Sir Charles had come.  She had not been dreaming.  Her heart leapt with an inexpressible joy.  She could write a thousand love poems based on the past couple hours alone.  How could she have doubted him?  How could she have hardened her heart so quickly? 

He gathered her in his arms, having known it was her from the moment he saw her shadow.  It was as though he knew her more than she knew herself.  Every curve of her face, every graceful movement he had memorized years ago. 

“Why are you shaking?”  He looked into her eyes as though they were the only two people in the world.  “Beloved, you have been crying?  What troubles you so that I might see such a tear stained face?”

“Darling, I am shaking from cold and a touch of fear my hopes and desires would never come true.  I am crying because I thought you would never come.”

Sir Charles took off his cloak and wrapped it around her warming her more with his presence than the wool that clung to her.  She would never doubt him again.  The power of love would always win out in the end. 

“My beloved, I know what I offer is forbidden.  I know you are betrothed to Sir Alex, but might I offer to fight for your hand?  Surely, there is more than just staying a war.  I will lead the battle should one come, but I must have you as my own.  I cannot bare the thought of watching another treat you like an object instead of the graceful dove you are.”

“My lover is mine and I am his.  I slept, but my heart has been awakened by you for these many years.  May what you have said come to pass.  But, alas, it is getting late and Lady Petunia will begin to worry.”

Unwilling to let her go with just words of love, Sir Charles had to take the risk.  He caught her face in his hands and looked longing at her as the moon light shone upon it through a crack in the wall.  She was more beautiful than he deserved.  Gently taking her chin in his hand he raised her face towards his and gently, but passionately kissed her.  He kissed her as though he would never see her again, as though she was the only one in the world, a treasure to a pirate.  Her heart swelled inside her bosom as though it would explode at the gentle touch of his hand.  As his lips collided with her in tender compassion and love, her body stilled.  The moment was theirs and theirs alone.  She was so utterly quite.  It only took a moment for her to be loved a lifetime.

As their moment ceased and she was drawn back to dark reality, she slowly began her walk back to the castle.  She looked back once, unable to believe this was truly happening to her.  But as their eyes connected again in the silence of the stables with the sheep and cattle their only witness, she knew this was the beginning of a wild adventure.  

Some French History: Part 2 of the requested Article

Institutions play a large role in the development of culture and nations.  Institutions as small as the social interpretation of a wink (Geertz, 1973) to as large as the education system all influence how a society is formed and how it understands itself (Reed, 1993, Buruma, 2004).  Institutions have been studied thoroughly in social science research; however, the institutions of music education (the Conservatoire) and dissemination (the Opéra) vis-à-vis nation construction have received little attention.  The state uses these institutions to filter music in hopes of creating a unified citizenry under one banner.  Therefore, just as much as the military, school education and bureaucracy are studied to see their effects on the populace of a nation, national musical systems need to be investigated.  Because of the state’s hands on approach towards music as a tool of nation formation, France’s musical institutions serve as an excellent case study to begin understanding music’s relationship with nationalism.  This section begins this analysis. 

Keitner argues that the French Revolution was only a stepping stone on the ladder that created the French nation as it is known today (Keitner, 2007).  The Revolution and the Reign of Terror had left the people of France divided and fearful.  When the Jacobins gained control of the government, they began using institutions – the military, education, the Opéra (Fulcher, 2001), and museums – to begin the unification of the French people and restore faith in the government.    The Jacobins, continuing through the Third Republic, saw music as an essential tool to aid in the process of nation building because of its ability to cross boundaries (Larroument, 1895; Johnson, 2000).  It was this belief that began the tradition of a top-down approach to cultural creation through direct control of the Conservatoire de Paris and the indirect control of the Opéra. 

By 1792 the pre-revolutionary maitressies (local musical schools) were disassembled by the state, resulting in the complete disappearance of French public music schools.   To fill this void, and keep the Germans from gaining complete domination of the musical world, the Conservatoire was founded becoming the only place to train musicians.  The Conservatoire’s foremost purpose was to be at the disposal of the government for celebrations and events with the training of musicians considered secondary (Fulcher, 1987:48-53; J.B., 1890:393).  Because it was used at the disposal of the government, the composers were strictly regulated in what they could compose, what the pieces could sound like, and the type of music allowed to be presented to the public (Lockspaiser, 1962). 

On January 3, 1784, a national convention comprised of the constitutional and legislative deliberative assembly (which sat from September 20, 1792 - October 26, 1795) sat to consider the funding, purpose, and organization of the Conservatoire.  Sarette - a military band leader and advocate for the school – in conjunction with Chénier – a poet – drew on French national pride to address the delegates and citizens present:

“The artists of the band of the Paris National Guard, which, as a body, presents an aggregate of talent unique in Europe, come to beg of your love for all that can contribute to the glory of the Republic, the establishment of a National Institute of Music.  The public interest, tied to that of the arts, should make you feel all the utility of their request.  It is a justice due to their citizenship as much as to their humanity.  The artists, for six months past, have devoted their energies and talents to the instruction of youths taken from among the poorest citizens of each section” (emphasis added, J.B., 1890:393).

 These nationalist pleas accentuated the need to educate musicians throughout France by showing the unique talent of the French musicians compared to that of other nations.  This harkens back to Anderson’s idea of a horizontal comradeship showing that nationality is more important than class (Anderson, 2006).  This “comradeship” was seen in the slogan of the French Revolution: “Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité.”  Many of the Jacobin leaders were constrained by this slogan with which had won the revolution.  This slogan was now, at the outset of the nation, a key aspect of why and how decisions were made.  The result of these nationalist pleas was the issuing of the following decree which demonstrates the government’s hope to training a musical force:

“From April 1 next will be provided for the establishment (of the Opéra) a school supplied with able masters of music, the clavecin, declamation, the French language, &c., charged to teach music, composition, and, in general, all that can train the various talents…, as well as all that will be more amply set forth in the regulations to be made determining the choice, functions, and emoluments of the various masters, the number of pupils, and the qualifications for admission, their treatment, and, lastly, the interior management of the said school” (J.B., 1890:393).

This decreed allowed the government to organize the Conservatoire to promote the state’s interests (for as Anderson states, a nation is constructed by the state according to the interests of the sate).  The institution allowed the government the ability to cease “importing” musicians from Germany and Italy (Pasler, 2009:147).  Additionally, the state gained a monopoly on music education. The state was able to use musicians of the Conservatoire at public events to make the government look strong, even at times of weakness, while allowing a platform for the government to use music to cross all dialects and languages (a dilemma faced by all French governments until 1914) (Weber, 1976).  Moreover, through the use of competitions at festivals, the government hoped to create a French national music and create a French pride amongst its people (Pasler, 2009).

When considering the Conservatoire, musicologists investigate the teaching of music – especially solfège – and the role competitions played in the development of composers.  The Prix de Rome (the highest award granted to a pupil of the Conservatoire) is just one of the many examples of the value of music in France.  The award required a two-year stay at the Villa Medici in Rome, optionally followed by a year or two of travel elsewhere, generally to Germany and Italy, and a total of four years of state support.  The state hoped the prize would broaden the horizons of the recipients (Clevenger, 2001:11). This may seem contrary to the elitism found in French music.  However, the French were only beginning to create a sound of their own and realized some of the best operatic music to date was composed by the Germans and Italians.  Although France belittled those nations, the French did see where they could learn from them.  This is similar to math and science today in America.  Many international students come to America to study because America has (arguably) the best programs in the field, and then go back to their home nations to contribute what they learned and make their nation better. 

Musicologists show there was clear desire of the French state to form the musical world (Pasler, 2009; Fulcher, 1987, 2001; Ross, 2008, Kelly, 2008).  The state’s use of the Conservatoire through education and the Prix de Rome Competition as a way to have the composer dependent on the state have shown that music is an essential element in the understanding of the construction of a French national identity.  Additionally, regulation showed the government’s involvement in nation building because it played a limiting role in the development of music – the composer’s pieces had to conform to the desires of the French government. 

Additionally, musicologists’ investigation into the lives of composers while at the Conservatoire has shown the strict building of the hatred of the other – the Germans or Italians - and how the state perpetuated a French musical ideal by keeping other influences from succeeding within the system.  When such outside influences began to take root (such as exoticism), the state would crack down to prevent such growth from occurring.  For example, at the turn of the nineteenth century, Berlioz was denied the harmony class he needed for a conductors position at the Paris Opéra because, although virtually all considered Berlioz the best technically, he created work with exotic influences and failed to support French composers of lesser quality in his reviews (Bloom, 2000:137).  This trend continued well into the turn of the twentieth century when Claude Debussy sat at the piano to mimic the sound of buses (strictly a fun experiment in composition).  One of his peers, M. Emmanuell stated that the sounds he heard at the piano were like sounds he had never heard before:

“groups of consecutive fifths and octaves; seventh which instead of being resolved in the proper way actually led to the note above or weren’t resolved at all; ‘shameful false relations’; chords of the ninth on all degrees of scale; chords of the eleventh and thirteenth; all the notes of the diatonic scale heard at once in fantastic arrangements…All this Claude called ‘le regal de l’ouie’ (a feast for the ear).  Delibese’s class shook with amazement and fear” (Lockspaiser, 1962:30, emphasis added).

Use of such terminology as “shameful” and “proper” illuminate the importance of what was considered French music.  The mere fact that Delibese’s (the composition teacher at the time) class shook with “amazement and fear” gives evidence of the demands of the school from the government who determined which works were French.  Students knew which rules to follow and that their compositions needed to have a French texture, feel and color. 

This incident gave Debussy a reputation as an eccentric and troublesome propagandist, which led to an investigation of him for years by the state registrar (Lockspaiser, 1962:30).  It was during this investigation that Émile Réty (the appointed Secretary General of France) asked Debussy “So you imagine that dissonant chords do not have to be resolved?  What rule do you follow?” This implies that there was a correct French way to compose that the state endorsed.  “‘Mon plaisir!’ Debussy replied…And Réty turned away pale with indignation” (Lockspaiser, 1962:30, emphasis added).  The Secretary General, angry that Debussy did not follow the French rules, kept him on the registrar for further investigation and observation.  Clearly, musicologists have shown the state had a vested and important role in the creation of French music - and therefore its nation.

The state was heavily involved in competition as well.  Musicologists have shown competition, especially the Prix de Rome, was essential to the development of a French musical identity.  An example is Berlioz’s and Debussy’s experience of competing for the Prix de Rome multiple times due to their less than French compositions.  Specifically, Debussy was denied the award the first two times because his works followed the Wagnerian formula too much, and therefore, were not French enough (Clevenger, 2001:44).    Debussy finally won the Prix de Rome on his third attempt in 1884 with L’Enfant prodigue.  His composition had been significantly changed to follow that of the French Massenet style.

Comparatively, this trend of controlling musical institutions was echoed by the following governments and became significant during the Third Republic.  The Republicans of the Third Republic continued to use the Conservatoire but expanded its influence to the entertainment of the populace.  The Republic used the Opéra Nationale, especially during the years of 1830-1860, to create a national pride and national musical culture.  Through the use of heavy censorship, subsidization, and free and cheap ticket prices for the masses, the government saw the Opéra as a way to connect politically with both the events of the day and those of the turbulent past (Fulcher, 1987, 2001). 

French Grand Opera (which became synonymous with the Opéra) is commonly defined as “French opera of the Romantic period, sung throughout, generally in five acts, grandiose in conception and impressively staged” which became current terminology in the nineteenth century (Oxford Music Dictionary).  Music built up the libretto (the script), the action, and the story (Pendle, 1971:537).  Large choruses were essential to the plot and the production, harkening back to the Greek tragedies in which the chorus was symbolic of the people of Athens. 

The Opéra was used as a form of aural story telling, as the passing down of myths – especially myths of the Revolution.  Much like the German Wagner’s desire to take ancient myths and see them on stage, French composers and librettists used myths and stories and experimented with subjects from popular literature (Fulcher, 1987:22).  Such examples include Debussy’s Pelleas, Meyerbeer’s Les Hugenots (a commentary on the French Revolution and the Jacobins seen through the parallel of religious conflict between the Catholics and the Protestants) and later Bruneau’s Messidor (Lockspaier, 1962; Ross, 2008; Anglin, 2009). The opera was a tool to propel these myths into the minds of the French citizen, to build a national community, much like the Babuki theatre did in Japan (Buruma, 2003).  Myths through opera also provided a way for the state to involve the masses and construct an imagined community.  Additionally, large choruses (Pasler, 2009), libretto written for a middle class audience (as opposed to the aristocracy) (Lockspaiser, 1962; Fulcher, 1987), and the use of myths combined with the free and cheap performances and the accessibility of the opera to the people led to an increasingly wider fan base (Pasler, 2009). The Opéra was no longer strictly an aristocratic pastime, the working and middle class began attending in masses.

These institutions played significant roles in French nation construction.  Musicologists look extensively at the construction, operation, and influence these institutions had in Paris.  The Opéra and the Conservatoire were both used to educate the people on what was considered French-ness.  Moreover, musicologists have done significant amounts of research into the organization, funding, and interpretation of performances by the Opéra.  Fulcher shows that the state heavily affected the “formation of the genre’s artistic traits, the audience’s construal of their significance, and concomitantly the gradual transformation they sustained in response” (Fulcher, 1987:2).  Pasler looks extensively into the use of censorship, subsidies, and state approaches to diversifying the audiences (Pasler, 2009).  Ross, Johnson, and Rosen all show how the institution was interpreted by the citizenry. 

During the restoration, the Opéra was purely in the hands of the social elite.  The purpose of the Opéra was to seduce and impress, if not directly, by “reaching a wide audience” (Fulcher, 1987:13).  Musicologists have done extensive research into the repertoire of the Opéra and its intended message to the people.  Moreover, they have looked at the physical construction of the Opéra (the removal of boxed seats for the aristocracy and the increase in seats) as well as money spent and the income from revenue.  The overall trend has shown that the Conservatoire and the Opéra were significant to the development of a national identity because of the state’s heavy hand in creating a French musical sound through competitions, education and the control of what the populace heard at the Opéra.  

Musicologists have shown that the state gave music “an honorable sanctuary and a political existence” while establishing a tradition of music upon which the Third Republic later built up with the Opéra (Sarette, speech for the opening of the Conservatoire, 1797).  The government played a large role in what was considered French music, going so far as to label those who did not follow it as propagandists, and to investigate them thoroughly.  Additionally, because composers were often reliant on the state for their livelihood, the state held an important role in the music that was developed.  The state saw both institutions as tools to promote national character in music, create a musical tradition based on revolutionary ideals, allow the state to stay in contact with the soul of the citizen, and to teach these foundations to future generations (Pasler, 2009:149). 

Yet, the musicologist understanding of the French nation is too simplistic, and therefore, not enough to fully understand the relationship between music institutions and nationalism for a number of reasons.  One of the largest problems posed by musicologists’ research and nationalism is that musicologists generalize what happens in Paris as what happens across the French state.  The average population of France 1850-1910 was 37.6 million, with Paris comprising only two million (approximately 5% of the French population) (Historical Atlas, 2009).  Therefore, although it is essential to consider the largest city in France in the construction of the nation, especially given the centralizing nature of the French state, five percent of the population limits the investigation of the nation as a unit.  In attempt to solve this problem they look at boulevard theatres, but even these are mostly located within Paris and did not hold the same prestige the Opéra held. 

Although, throughout France, Paris was considered the cultural center, this research does not show how such institutions were viewed by the citizens beyond the border of Paris in other departments (state-like geographic divisions of France).  This problem additionally limits musicologists’ claims that myths at the Opéra were disseminated among the populace of France.  Furthermore, this approach does not consider the education many composers (including but not limited to David, Berlioz, Debussy) received outside of the Conservatoire from family members or from travels abroad and how it played a role in their musical development at the Conservatoire and, ultimately, what they produced for the state.  Nor does this approach consider the accessibility of these institutions to those citizens living far from Paris.  During the period from the Revolution until approximately the turn of the nineteenth century travel was difficult, there was little infrastructure, weather conditions often made travel dangerous (Weber, 1976) and much of France was comprised of farmers and a work force who did not have the financial means to be able to send a pupil to learn in Paris. 

Additionally, musicologists’ research of these institutions, although considering quantitative features such as receipts of the Opéra and the amount spent in a year, do not consider how much this amounts to in per capita GDP nor how this money was being spent in other departments, which could alter the estimated impact of the institutions on the populace.  Research does not show how the government spent money for the arts, or comparable institutions outside of Paris.   Money is also not the only way to investigate music’s affect.  Research needs to look more extensively into how the people of France understood the arts, which composers the average citizen knew of, which music pieces they could “sing along with” or recognize outside of Paris combined with how the average citizen interpreted these pieces.  This could be accomplished through historic investigation into specific villages, such as Weber’s inquiry begins.  Such data can begin to be found in the op-ed pieces of newspapers, reviews, and the constituency of the papers.  Additionally, data may be found in the references in literature and art to the specific pieces of the day and at festivals and celebrations.  Though the dearth of this research may be very daunting, it still demands investigation. 

Moreover, musicologists do not consider the national conventions nor the ministry offices that were in charge of budgeting for the arts and education.  The standard operating procedures (SOPs) and the traditions of these institutions that affected the outcome of such important decisions, for which the political science research lends a helping hand, needs to be considered for a full comprehension of how the state viewed music and its role in nation building.  Social scientists have shown that institutions have deeply embedded structures that are hard to see without a historical approach and understanding of the meanings of SOPs and the transitions that lead to new SOP’s (Reed, 1993; Olsen and March, 1984).  These meanings can only be established and understood within a discussion of traditions (Hobsbawm, 2003), which is not considered by musicologists. The SOP’s of both the Conservatoire and the Opéra need further investigation in order to see how the artists, composers, and the administration of both saw (or did not see) their role in nation development.  Research should look at the qualifications of appointments to the leaders of the Conservatoire and the Opéra, where they were educated, and job descriptions to begin.  Additionally, a thorough investigation into the minutes of meetings would provide a platform to begin such analysis.

This section shows how a concentrated inquiry into the history and construction of a musical institution is necessary but not sufficient in understanding nationalism because it looks at how the state uses its tools as well as the resources of the people.  Musicologists have provided the starting point from which political scientists can now begin intense investigation.  It is now essential to expand beyond Paris and into the other departments to really begin to see how institutions affected the national construction throughout France.  Moreover, an investigation into the SOP’s of the national conventions as well as the institutions themselves needs further inquiry to best see the extent of state involvement and how the institutions were perceived to affect the citizenry’s understanding of their identity.  

Courage Part 1

Olivia lay on her bed trying to finish her story.  She had had writer’s block for a month and was having little help in breaking her wall.  She was too distracted with the complications of life to finish the story she knew was in her heart.  If she could only get a little respite from the stifling world she lived in. 

The year was 1512 and England was beautiful.  Though war threatened at every corner, she knew she would be key in preventing war landing at her door step.  Her parents would use her in any way they could to create alliances with possible enemies.  But all Olivia wanted was a quite life with her pens and papers in the solitude of the arms of the love she knew was out there somewhere.  But, as her parents were quick to point out, it was improper for a young lady to write stories, she should be learning the role of painting, and reading, being able to entertain a king one day. 

Yet, for Olivia, she did not want to marry a king, she had simple wishes.  All she wanted was the quite knight who liked to polish his saddle and brush his horse in solitude, always in what seemed quite prayer.  But he was not to be seen as one of the many suitors who continually pursued her for her hand.  Olivia was beautiful, there was no doubt about that.  Her long dark hair would flow behind her swirling in the wind of the moors where she liked to take walks.  Her dark blue eyes and pale skin were contrasts to the mane she wore that drew even the most closed of hearts to her.  She had every one’s heart, except Sir Charles. 

Her thoughts were stifling her.  She had to pull away from her paper.  Olivia walked to the window to get a breath of fresh air.  The cool breeze was welcome relief as it hit her face and incorporated itself into her very being.  She breathed deeply.  She could see the castle stables from her second story window.  From here they looked like peaceful churches, but she knew what was really happening within.  All the knights from every district was in there brushing their horses, polishing their suits of armor, or working on their fighting stances just beyond the stable doors.  There would be commotion through out the stables.  Every knight had only one thought on their mind – win the tournament and receive Olivia as the ultimate prize. 

Olivia’s eyes began to burn with tears as she realized she would never be happy with any of the knights in that stable.  She realized she was just a bead at a bizarre being bid and bargained for.  She was not a human with a soul, but a piece of meat to go to the highest bidder.  Anger shot through her like a lightening bolt.  How could they expect her to resign herself to this? 

Then, as if an answer to her prayer, she saw the one being she could never seem to reach, no matter how she used her many charms.  Sir Charles, tired and sweaty from practicing his sword play, slowly walked his black stallion, Magnificent, toward the stables.  His copper hair reflected the sunlight as it stuck to his face from sweat.  She could see he was talking to someone, but could not hear the words.  Maybe he was talking to the horse, after all, she had seen other knights try to pump up their animals before tournaments before.   As though he could hear her silent calls to him, he looked up to see her tear stained face in the window.  She quickly turned away.  She could not let him see her in this weak state.  This ugly state.  He did not even like her, she could not give him more ammunition to strike at her heart.  He was the only knight who refused her advances, who refused to look her in the eye.  But he always did as she asked, always respected her, always looked out for her.  What she did not realize, and what Sir Charles did in that one moment of seeing her weakness, was that he loved her.  He loved her with every fiber of his being.

Cheers to a New Year

Every New Year brings new resolutions.  The sad part is very few of us actually fulfill those promises to ourselves. The traditional promises never seem to work out; promises like, “I will loose the weight this year,” or “I will be a better parent/spouse/daughter.”  The problem is not the intent to do better, it is the lack of reflection, goal setting and planning. 

A few weeks into January I think it is time to reflect on those resolutions we made just a few weeks ago.  A friend of mine made a resolution to not eat breads or drink tea…by lunch on Friday she was doing both.  Another friend of mine renewed a commitment to work out three to four nights a week…and thanks to that, I have a new accountability partner in one of my resolutions, being more healthy.  But there are still 50 weeks left in the year, and a lot can happen, but success only comes to those who do.

Doing is a concept I think we have slowly forgotten hear in America.  We stopped doing and now are waiting to be given.  Much like a New Year’s Resolution we expect the result without the work.  But success and, I would venture to say, happiness comes when one does something with their life.  A few years ago one of my dear friends introduced me to a new resolution that carries over every year – to try one thing new every month.  You would be surprised at how hard that can be!  Well, in that one resolution I learned two things: without reflection I cannot know what I have done and without planning I cannot hope to succeed. 

Sounds sort of like what teachers and parents and mentors have been telling us for years, right?  One must set goals with a plan.  A plan for school, a plan for a career, a plan to have kids.  No one ever mentions, that sometimes those goals and plans have to change.  No one ever mentions the fear that comes with pursuing those goals. 

What is it about New Year’s that seems to sap the joy of life?  Why is looking forward so dependent on looking back?  Why is it that sometimes it just doesn’t seem to work, making resolutions seem more like wasted prayers and broken magic than something to pursue? 

I am beginning to think the answer to all those questions is the same.  Perspective.  When one chooses to see the New Year as a fresh start they tend to be more excited about the possibilities.  A lot can happen in a year, new friends, new job, new home, loss of loved ones, loss of job; but it is the perspective that makes the memories.  Perhaps we all need a touch more of Pollyanna in our lives and a little less Economist Today.  With a change in perspective we have new light, new insight, and a new chance at the beginning of something great.

Cheers to the New Year!

   

What Happens After “Happily Ever After?”

What Happens After “Happily Ever After?”

Once upon a time there was a youth group in a small beach town in the O.C.  They were your typical youth group, came to church at least once a week, if not twice, were ready to lend a hand where necessary, and loved to worship and learn about God.  Like most youth groups, they left every week refueled and ready to live the life God planned for them.  And most would say they lived happily ever after…unless you met them on a Monday or a Thursday morning.  When they were no longer with the group, decisions got hard, sometimes they made mistakes.  Much like Gideon.

I have a friend who serves in the Navy.  He has traveled the world, seen man at his best and his worst, and has learned about different cultures in a way most people only dream about.  The last time I talked with him he commented on American girls’ Disney Princess Complex.  American girls grow up focusing on the knight in shinning armor and getting married.  Having attended and planned over 100 weddings, I can tell you first hand most girls care about the wedding more than the marriage. 

We grow up on fairy tales of true love, the battle to find it and keep it.  But the stories always end at the wedding.  No one talks about what happens to Snow White and Prince Charming after the apple?  Or what about Sleeping Beauty and Prince Philip?  The blending of two kingdoms is seldom an easy matter, much less knowing that the girl you picked spent most of her life in a forest talking to animals.  But that is our culture.  We like the happy endings; we like knowing our heroes are heroes.  We glorify them and place then on pedestals, people from Obama to Tee Bo, we don’t care what happens after the wedding or big game.  Much like what we learn in Sunday School about Gideon. 

Where we left off, Gideon was on a high having just defeated the Midianites with only 300 men.  Great Sunday School lesson – Gideon’s not the hero, the hero is God.  But the story doesn’t end…Gideon has more to teach us.  We forget that because of the next 35 verses, we call Gideon the Flawed Judge. 

So what happens?  Turn with me to Judges 8:1.

“Now the Ephramites asked Gideon, “Why have you treated us like this?  Why didn’t you call us when you went to fight Midian?”  And they criticized him sharply.”

(The Ephramites wanted in on the pillaged goods from the battle, according to most commentaries). 

But he answered them, “What have I accomplished compared to you?  Aren’t the gleanings of Ephraim’s grapes better than the full grape harvest of Abiezer?  God gave Oreb and Zeeb, the Midianite leaders, into your hands.  What was I able to do compared to you?  At this, their resentment against him subsided.”

(So bullet dodged.  He was able to appease the Ephramites and give the glory to God…sound like a Flawed Judge to you?  Nope.  Let’s continue.)

“Gideon and his 300 men, exhausted yet keeping up the pursuit, came to Jordan and crossed it.  He said to the men of Succoth, “Give my troops some bread; they are worn out, and I am still pusuing Zebah and Zalmunna, the kings of Midian.”

(Notice the change from God is pursuing to I am pursuing.)

“But the officials of Succoth said, “Do you already have the hands of Zebahg and Zalmunna in your possession?  Why should we give bread to your troops?”

(Pretty much, you guys are not as powerful as you think you are, and we are not going to help because you don’t threaten us.)

“Then Gideon replied, “Just for that, when the Lord has given Zebah and Zalmunna into my hand I will tear your flesh with desert thorns and briers.”

“From there he went to Peniel and made the same request of then, but they answered as the men of Succoth had.  So he said to the men of Peniel, “When I return in triumph, I will tear down this tower.”

(He then goes and captures the two kings.)

13 “Gideon son of Joash then returned from the battle by the Pass of Heres.  He caught a young man of Succoth and questioned him, and the young man wrote down for him the names of the seventy seven officials of Succoth, the elders of the town.  Then Gideon came and said to the men of Succoth, “Here are Zebah and Zulmanna, about whom you taunted me by saying, ‘Do you already have the hands of Zebah and Zulmanna in your possession?  Why should we give bread to your exhausted men?’”  He took the elders of the town and taught the men of Succoth a lesson by punishing them with desert thorns and briers.  He also pulled down the tower of Peniel and killed the men of the town.” 

Here we see Gideon relying on himself to capture the men, but more importantly, we see him angry and vengeful toward the peoples of Succoth and Peniel.  He tortures the people of Succoth with desert thorns and briers…ouch. Ever see a tumble weed?  You know they collect small animals?  Ever touch one?  I don’t know how you could torture with them, but I am not one who wants to find out, either. 

He tore down the tower of Peniel.  That doesn’t sound too bad.  But when you think about it, the tower probably held a symbolic meaning to the people, much like the Statue of Liberty, the Eifel Tower, the Pyramids, or the Great Wall of China all hold special places in the hearts of the their respective people.  Could you imagine if someone pulled down the Statue of Liberty because we were not gracious hosts to their ambassadors?  Or maybe Buckingham Palace is torn down because the King of Denmark was not invited to the Kate and William’s wedding. 

So, we can begin to see that there is a change in Gideon.  He is become more self reliant and less God reliant.  He is working through his own power more and less letting God work through his own power.  Let’s continue in verse 22:

“The ISrealites said to Gideon, ‘Rule over us – you, your son and your grandson – because you have saved us out of the hand of Midian.”

“But Gideon told them, “I will not rule over you, nor will my son rule over you.  The Lord will rule over you.” 

(So Gideon shows he has good theology, that he believes God to be the ultimate authority…does this sound like a flawed judge?)

Continuing, “And he said, “I do have one request, that each of you give me an earring from your share of the plunder” (It was the custom of the Ishmailites to wear gold earrings.)

“They answered, ‘We’ll be glad to give them.” So they spread out a garment, and each man threw a weight of the gold rings onto it.  The weight of the gold came to seventeen hundred shekels, not counting the ornaments, the pendants and the purple garments worn by the kings of Midian or the chains that were on their camels’ neck. 

“Gideon made the gold into an ephod, which he placed in Orphah, his town.  All Isreal prostituted themselves by worshiping it there, and it became a snare to Gideon and his family.” 

The people prostituted themselves in worship.  Wow!  Harsh words.  What were they worshiping?  What is an ephod?  I had no idea, so I looked it up. Turns out it is an apron used by the priest to reminded them God is always before them.  1700 sheckles weighs about 43 - 50 pounds.  I wear aprons when I cook, and there is no way I am putting one on that weights 50 pounds!  Some commentaries say that due to the weight, Gideon probably created a statue he clothed in an ephod.  Well, I was still a little confused as to what the point of the ephod was, so I called my mom the pastor and found out there really isn’t a modern equivalent to the ephod.  But that it was garment for the priest.  I Peter 2:5 and 9 says,

“You also are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ…For you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.”

For those who believe we are all a kind of priest, the closest thing would be a WWJD bracelet or cross necklace we wear to remind ourselves we are always before God.  Sounds, at first glance, that maybe Gideon was on the right track, right?  That is until, you read that ALL Israel prostituted themselves in worship of this ephod. 

This does not sound like the happily ever after I had anticipated from chapter 7.  Gideon has become arrogant (going after the two kings because he wanted to, not because God told him to, at least according to most commentaries); he has become vengeful ( torturing the peoples of Succoth and Peniel), and worst of all he brought back the very thing he set out not to…idol worship.  Surely, he is a flawed judge. 

But this cautionary tale teaches us to constantly be aware of our weakness in sinful nature: it is when we forget we are flawed beings that we think we have the authority and power to bring judgment on people.  Much like Gideon did when he broght vengeance on Succoth and Peniel.  When we forget that we are sinful, we also open ourselves up to letting sin creep in and take control of our actions.

We learn good theology is not what makes us good Christians.  Gideon had good theology, which we see when he declines kingship, reminding the Isrealites that God will always rule.  But his actions of creating the ephod, and living like a king (he had many wives as a symbol of status, and 77 sons), lead the people back into idol worship.  His actions spoke louder than his words. 

We learn that happily ever after only happens when we return to God…we are not immune to the weakness of man.  And with that, the youth walked out of their Sunday lesson, a little smarter, a little more aware, and ready to live happily ever after…for now.  The end. 

Art is a Revolt

Here is a touch of my thesis on culture in France.  If you like it, comment on it, and I will post more of it.  Some have been asking about what I studied; so I thought this might be a good introduction for you.  Enjoy.  

"All art is a revolt against man's fate."

-André Malraux

I.                   Music and Nationalism: An Introduction

Born into wealth, plunged into the Hell of a Nazi prison camp, and raised victoriously to become the Minister of Cultural Affairs for an evolving Post-WWII France, Andre Malraux echoes the very soul of France and its inextricable relationship to the artistic culture around it.  In those few words, Malraux captures the muse-infused angst of the individual that, when left to its fullest artistic fruition, manifests itself into the intricate fabric of French nationalism.  Though widely unsung as a political change agent, the muse of music is an essential element of defining one’s culture, and specifically, the French national identity.  The following pages will undertake an analysis and critic into understanding the role of music in the development of the French national identity. 

 When examined through the polarized and myopic lenses of political scientists or musicologists it is not surprising that both disciplines conclude their separate influences are the dominant key to explaining the development of French nationalism.  Political science concludes that the citizenry is crafted by the affairs of state.  By contrast, the musicologist concludes that the fate of the nation lies in the logos of its citizenry catalyzed by the ethos of art and emotion, without which there would be no state.  The militarist highlights a country’s triumph with scarce note of the military band keeping time and morale.  All the while, the band leader trumpets the military’s inability to so much as march without the deep reverberation of the military drum.

Musicologist and the political scientist have illuminated different aspects of nation construction.  However, both have limited themselves by not discussing their findings with the other.  Without a clear understanding of the role played by music the political scientists cannot fully comprehend the role of the people in expressing themselves or the role of propaganda used by the state.  Moreover, without a strong comprehension of institutions and the political structure of the state the musicologist cannot understand how the people are constricted by the mechanisms of the state.  It is this gap in scholarship that will be addressed here.

The Second section of this paper analyzes the nationalism literature to understand why music, as a clearly important component of culture, has received very little attention.  Section III investigates the institutional role of music on the population and the state’s influential role in nation construction.  It examines the role of the state in creating a national identity through music, by evaluating the state’s role in the Conservatoire de Paris and the Opéra.  Section IV examines the role of the military in nation building through an evaluation of the band and the state’s use of the military in times of peace and war.  It examines the limitations of solely defining the development of French nationalism through the confines of military action without the supporting role of the nation’s musical underpinnings. 

Lastly, Section V analyzes the role of the people and their use of popular music as a way of nation construction.   It examines the role of popular music in the development of the French national identity. This later examination will be conducted by reviewing the developmental impact of café-concerts and “pop” French music, otherwise known as chanson populaires.  The three dominate sections (Sections III-V) of this paper will show that neither discipline holds the key to explaining French nationalism; rather, when aptly applied, a blending of the two disciplines creates a more balanced model to explain the nuances of French identity. 

In conclusion, this comparative analysis will illuminate both the unsung role of music in constructing the French national psyche while also highlighting the value of a multi-disciplined analysis to better explain the developmental aspects of the national identity and, specifically, the French identity.          

A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes

Dreams.  Such a small word that can mean so much.  To some a dream is only the unconscious firing neurons, to others it is a message to be deciphered, others still it is the haunting word that measures how successful they are in adulthood.  Whatever connotation you give the word dreams, they have this impact on our lives like water has on rocks, even the smallest dream changes our shape a little.   

When we were children we dreamed of conquering the world, being famous, becoming a life saving doctor, and some of us have been able to realize those dreams.  But somewhere along the way to adulthood we learned that dreams are for the lucky and the strong.  That is until the month of December hits and we are faced with another year over, but a new one just about to begin.  We challenge ourselves with resolutions – to get fit, to spend more time with the family, to get a better job.  We think Santa will bring one of these in a nicely wrapped red and green box and solve all our problems.  The problem is, that is not how dreams work.

Dreams are for the lucky and the strong because they are willing to fight for them.  Those that realize their dreams are those that were specific in them and more importantly, took the first step in action.  For me, in my dreams of life I have worked hard to take action at every turn and believe that someday soon my dreams will be realized.  But, sometimes I need an extra push. 

Sometimes our subconscious pushes us to get the courage we need to take the next step.  For me, it was a nightmare, really, of the past in the present.  Things that had once happened appeared in the present and in the dream I fainted.  Now, in my very little research of dreams fainting seems to mean two things.  First, you are about to get sick and second, you need to face a problem in your life.  For me, I think it meant both. 

I actually did get sick after the dream, sick enough to seek medical advice.  But in thinking upon the adventures of the past month, I realized there was something I was avoiding.  The dream alerted me to a problem with a friend of mine and gave me the courage to address it.  Well, either that or the sickness took over and I went crazy!  (For my sake, let’s stick to the former). 

Although this dream was subconscious, I think it acts the same as our conscious dreams.  The thought of a dream means nothing unless you are willing to go for it, take action, and make change.  Sometimes those dreams are nightmares that just encourage you on to better things.  Dreams are not meant to be stored up and never realized.  They are meant to be impactful, just like every one of you. 

This Christmas remember that Santa may not bring your dream to you wrapped up in buttons and bows, but there is someone who will help you realize the desires of your heart and show you how amazing you truly are, that your dreams really can come true.  I encourage you all to enjoy the true meaning of Christmas – the birth of the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  If you have forgotten Him, that’s ok, a great place to get reconnected is telling Him your dreams and then remembering that He gave up everything so you could live an incredible life.  Merry Christmas friends!