Sharon Bridgforth has, through years of artful experimentation, developed a method of facilitating called, Finding Voice. Within this creative genre she mentors writers encouraging them to use identity-culture-memory-family histories-dreams, to articulate and examine the socio-political realities of their lives, given shape through poetry, part oral history, part performance art; examining their creative process; to work in community as they use art as a vehicle for social justice.[1] The Voice Bridgforth has found within her embodied writing is the same voice that has been speaking to me through improvisation, gaining aptitude. Growing and gaining cognition and connections to the work I have done in the past, mulched and taking root in my current studies, blooming into a tree of shade and shelter for those I teach.
In order to ascertain the importance of my musical being I need to locate myself within my environment yet again; accomplished through addressing the cultural, social and political landscape in which I create music, and how I locate my practice in relation to this landscape. Let me first look deeper at the question posed.
Restated, to me it looks like this. How do I perceive the social, cultural and personal political surroundings in which I create my music and where do I situate my practice in relation to these settings? I will break down these three segments, relaying my personal and musical location within each.
Social Order: I am of a lower economic class American citizen, Christian in faith and solo by choice; white female parent with a genetic history of the Viking persuasion (Western European). Early exposure to music, in my parent’s home, was simply from the “radio-ed” pop culture of the 60’s and 70‘s.P When old enough to choose a genre of music for myself I followed Classical and Spiritual forms, with the most recent addition being Jazz.
Culture: As an adult, family traditions were connected to a spiritual life which included the exploration of Folk music of the ‘70’s and a milieu of Gospel sounds, structures and texts throughout the next 25 years. This music that had begun as African American Blues and Spirituals had, by the 80‘s, bled into an updated Folk music, made popular by upper-class white Christian (mostly) Americans. Similarly, I followed classically composed and orchestrated music typically written by white Europeans in the 1800 to 1900’s. I can attach my sense of simple melody and clear vocal ideas to my many years of choral singing; seeing these educative (cultural) and spiritual customs coming through by way of my choices in instrumentation (orchestral and acoustic) and vocals again consisting of solo voice, clean tone with little vibrato, oft times infused with jazzy or bluesy scales. Most recently, my music has been taking shape around experimental processes using new mediums; finding the use of electronics, enhanced language and spontaneous composing to be of all, most rewarding (this was precluded by the exposing of myself to new Spiritual paths and the removal of all dead wood). A pristine clearing has been set. All foraged fauna from this homie's farm will be of an open genre. Allowing for new artistic and personal freedom. Growth.
Personal Politics: What began as liberating and a joyful involvement musically, transversed into a Spiritual bludgeoning; becoming a loose noose around my neck. Once the chair had been kicked out from beneath my feet, I was...born again. My recent desire to express myself freely has brought forth a new era of experimentation; unearthly sounds that leave a listener with more questions than answers. The phenomenology of this most recent work embodies music that is opinionated and punctuated with uncooperative meanderings. It’s moody, joyous, erratic, trans-worldly, disturbing, confusing, supple, wailing, conversational and cacophonic. These are the places I live, thus my music envelops them. Once I craved order, answers and reliability; now I am exploring the possibility of pleasure outside of what is expected and considered theoretically correct. You do not find the typical Christian believer sitting amongst these aesthetics. As I struggle to locate my practice in relation to my current landscape I seem to have wiggled into the middle; a sitting on the fence with legs dangling off both sides. Swinging. I wonder if I’ll fall all the way over, to one side or the other. Or, heavy legged, will I be split in two, never to find the conjoining of selves that I’ve situated myself to do. Best yet. Perhaps a decision to go to the left or to the right isn’t even being asked of me. Perhaps, it’s the listening, appreciation and lessons to be learned from all, by all, that reign supreme. Perhaps, always straddling, but long legged now, feet touching both sides. Firmly planted.
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