Kethoser (Aniu) Kevichusa
Ren Merry’s recent article, ‘The State of Music in Nagaland’, was interesting. Having known him as a person, teacher, and brother in Christ, I have a great deal of respect and affection for Ren (I will use his first name since we know each other fairly well). I also have the utmost respect for his credentials as a classical musician and an authority in music. His views on music must be respected and taken seriously. Indeed, it is because I take his views very seriously that I am venturing to voice some of my disagreements with his article, even if I do not consider myself a ‘musician’ – all in the hope that this will lead to a healthy discussion. Although there are a number of points where I agree with Ren, since it would be superfluous to rehearse the points of agreement, let me simply get to the points where I find Ren’s views and suggestions problematic.
In his article, Ren talks about what American leaders and music educators have done in America for American students and tries to draw direct implications for the Nagas. But it is, as any serious researcher should know, fallacious and perilous to take a certain theory or model from a certain context, and then simply transpose or apply it to a completely different context. Theories and models are context specific. What the Americans thought they needed to do, and what they are doing for music education in America, arose from their context: American needs, American limitations, American strengths, American resources, American traditions, American goals, etc. No one is begrudging that. Indeed, we are full of admiration for what Americans are doing for their young citizens. But we must be careful that we do not simply and uncritically draw ‘implications’ or ‘insights’ from America (or, for that matter, from anywhere else) for Nagas, and then apply them directly in Nagaland. Naga problems, Naga needs, Naga resources, Naga abilities, Naga strengths, and Naga limitations are radically different from America’s. What works in America will often not work in Nagaland, and vice versa.
Perhaps the best way of illustrating my point is by considering some of Ren’s suggestions. Ren’s first implication for Nagaland is this: ‘A systematic and serious study of art music should be a part of the school curriculum.’ I completely agree with the idea. It really sounds wonderful. Writing the course might also not be very difficult. But the only problem is this: there are more than 2,000 schools in Nagaland. How does one go about implementing the policy in all these schools all over Nagaland? To implement that, we will need at least 2,000 qualified teachers. We need more than policies; we need personnel: ‘Whom shall I send and who will go for us?’How many Naga schoolteachers are competent to teach a ‘systematic and serious’ music course? Perhaps Ren’s suggestion is more modest; perhaps he is saying that the music course should be studied only in a few special schools. To that I say, ‘Amen!’
Ren also says that the music program at Patkai Christian College can ‘serve as a model for excellence’ for those deliberating on music education in Nagaland. As an alumnus of Patkai, I have the greatest respect and affection for Patkai – and so, what I say next I say with great hesitation, wary of offending a beloved. I have no doubt that Patkai is a model for excellence in many aspects of education. But when it comes to music education, I’m afraid it is not the best model. In a limited context like Nagaland, one can easily be misled into taking an institution like Patkai as the best model for music education, simply because it is the only available model (or at least has been for a while). If Music is taught in Patkai as one of the many elective-subjects (like Economics, Political Science, etc.), then fine; but that hardly makes Patkai a ‘model for excellence’ in music education. If, on the other hand, music – both theory and performance – is being taught at a very serious level, then my fundamental misgiving about such a music program is this: it is too late to start serious training in music, especially classical music, at the PU or college level. It is a waste of the music teachers’ energies and a misplacement of the music students’ hopes.
I am aware that there are already-proficient music students who come to Patkai to study music further; and perhaps they gain the most out of the Patkai program (or maybe the elementary program bores them to death, who knows). However, most music students in Patkai are not necessarily proficient or accomplished in music. And the danger, it seems to me, with such students is that, after undergoing the music program, they can end up neither here nor there. What is worse, some of these students who graduate from the institution can go on, I’m afraid to say, to be become pseudo-classical musicians and half-baked music teachers. Saying this must not be taken as undermining the faculty members’ musical qualifications or as insulting the students’ musical talents. It is merely pointing out a sad fact: starting professional music training at college level is too little, too late. The sooner we realise it, the more will we be saved from wasted energies, false hopes, and broken dreams.
Ren also warns against the commercialisation of music in Nagaland, saying that commercialisation sacrifices quality. He says bluntly, ‘Commercialisation does not work with music.’ I think I get the drift of what he is trying to say here. Perhaps he is trying to say that when music (or anything else, especially the finer things of life and culture) is ‘commodified’, it can run the danger of losing its raison dêtre. A thing of beauty must be treasured for its own sake, and not for its financial yields. Some of the best things in life cost nothing and yield nothing – financially, that is. On that I agree. Or perhaps he is trying to say that when music gets over-commercialised, musicians and their market-gurus become too engrossed in attention-grabbing razzmatazz, which can take the form of producing music with blatant sexual overtones (for nothing sells like sex, after all!), trying too hard to be ‘original’ and avant-garde, being shockingly scandalous and deliberately controversial, and the like. I do appreciate and share Ren’s concern.
But Ren must realise that he speaks from the over-commercialised context and industry of America. What we have in Nagaland is an under-commercialised context and industry. So, again, what applies in America does not apply in Nagaland. In any case, I do not think that commercialisation necessarily leads to a sacrifice of quality. Commercialisation of products often leads to improvement in quality. One only needs to imagine the quality of computers, cameras, or cars we would still be using had these commodities never been commercialised. In the last few years, Nagas have seen a marked improvement in the quality, packaging, and showmanship of their music and musicians. It could be said that this is a result of the beginnings of commercialisation of music in Nagaland. And I think it is very good. It sounds very nice to say that music is not a commodity and should not be for sale. But that is idealism, not realism. Musicians too need to make a living and feed their families. And unless musicians know that they can live by their music, it will be very difficult to produce seriously good musicians. To say that Naga musicians –that set of people who desperately love what they do, many of who do not know anything else to do, but all of who are continually short-changed financially – should not commercialise their music is perhaps a little insensitive.
Ren also suggests that just like other governments support their students to study music in the US, the Nagaland government too should sponsor Naga music students abroad. This, again, sounds very good in theory; but only in theory. How much, really, can a government like the Nagaland government, whose total budget is too embarrassingly small to be mentioned in public, do to financially support Naga music students abroad? To ask private Naga individuals, families, or institutions to do something similar is even more out of the question. Of course, there are scholarships available in foreign universities and music schools. But the competitions for these scholarships are incredibly tough. Sure, the fact that we cannot sponsor everyone or everything does not mean that we should not sponsor anyone or anything. But, again, we need to be aware of our contextual realities and limitations.
Finally, the question of other forms of music, especially rock and pop music. Whether or not Ren likes these forms of music (which he obviously does not), to say that such music ‘tends to demolish and destroy foundations for sound judgment and moral sense’ is a claim too big, too far, too strong. Though I am not a specialist in this area, I am aware enough to know that research on the direct connection between rock music and delinquency is far from firmly established; the jury is still out on the question, and the debate is far from over. There is no denying that there are many pop and rock musicians and their listeners who are terribly immoral; but there is also no doubt that there are many classical and jazz musicians and their followers who are also equally immoral. Conversely, we can find very fine and moral people among rock musicians and their followers, just as we can find among classical musicians and their listeners.
One of the most underappreciated aspects of rock and pop music is the themes of their contents. These themes – if only we care to listen carefully – have to do especially with the problems that young people face, and the concerns that they have for the world they will inherit. Such songs are so numerous that one can list them almost randomly: songs that deal with environmental issues (‘Blackened’ by Metallica); the dangers of drugs (‘The Needle Lies’ by Queensryche); corruption (‘And Justice for All’ by Metallica); homelessness and poverty (‘Even Flow’ by Pearl Jam); disaster relief (‘We Are the World’); nuclear weapons (‘Two Minutes to Midnight’ by Iron Maiden); disparity in international relations (‘Crumbs from Your Table’ by U2); domestic violence (‘Janie’s Got a Gun’ by Aerosmith); hypocrisy in religion (‘Practise What You Preach’ by Testament); protest against war (‘When the Children Cry’ by White Lion); concern for children(‘God Bless the Child’ by Shania Twain); broken relationships (‘Torn’ by Natalie Imbruglia); and so on. There are many pop and rock ‘secular’ artistes, whose overarching themes are so full of social concerns, moral consciousness, political critiques, and prophetic indictments, that they would easily render any classical or ‘Christian’ artiste red-faced for their comparative apathy and escapism. Have we never heard of the likes of Bob Dylan and U2?In America itself, the music of the civil rights movement was anything but classical music; almost all songs commenting on war and protesting against it are pop and rock music; the Live Aid concert for the famine in Ethiopia in 1985 was not a choral concert. Closer to home in Nagaland, most of the socially and morally aware musical events – including the more recent concerts in aid of the tsunami in Japan or the floods in Bangkok – are pop and rock.
In citing all these, I am not saying that rock music is a higher form of music, or that classical music is a lower form of music. Indeed, I am very happy to grant that classical music is truly a ‘higher’ form of music – a form that is much more systematic and complicated, requiring much more discipline and rigor, and engaging much more than the basic senses. I am also more than willing to grant that there are many kinds of pop and rock music whose contents are in poor taste, if not outright offensive. But what I am doing is this: I am protesting against the claim that rock music, in and of itself, ‘demolishes sound judgment and moral sense’; I am protesting against the oft-bandied, uncritical correlation between rock music and bad behaviour, as if rock is of the devil and invariably leads to immoral behaviour. If we were to say that rock music as such is bad or evil because a certain person who appreciates a certain rock musician is behaving badly, then, by the same token, we could also say that classical music as such is bad and evil because Hitler greatly admired and appreciated Wagner’s classical music! In any case, criticising rock music in order to praise classical music is a bit like saying that someone’s wife is ugly in order to say that one’s wife is beautiful! Most of all, telling Naga musicians not to do pop/rock music but to do classical or jazz music is a bit unfair: most of our musicians are self-taught. It is not that they do not want to do classical music; it is that they have never been taught classical music. Ah! And that brings us to the nub of the problem.
What we lack most in Nagaland is this: Music Teachers – good, well-qualified music teachers. Yes, there are a number of trained piano teachers, and they are doing the best they can; perhaps one or two classical violinists, who are also doing their bit; and perhaps a couple of choral and theory teachers. But that is about all. The rest are just extraordinarily talented, self-taught or half-taught musicians who are teaching others what they know, warts and all. In Nagaland, we can frame all the music policies we want, stack all the bricks we want for our music conservatories, and pontificate on all the things that ought or ought not to be done. But we simply need more music teachers for our children. If the classical musicians say that our Naga children should do classical music, then, please, let these classical musicians teach our children classical music – hands-on!What if our young musicians simply do not know how to play classical music? What if they never had the opportunity and privilege to learn classical music? What if nobody taught them classical music? Can we really tell them that it is either classical and choral music or nothing? Naga musicians also, as much as anyone else in the rest of the world, want to glorify God with their music. And I suspect God’s question to them is not: ‘Is that an acoustic classical guitar with plastic strings or an electric guitar with distortion?’ I fancy His question is simply: ‘What is in your hand?’ And His command: ‘Let the rock cry out!’
