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The chapter analyzes folk music and performance practices in a contemporary Indian and South Asian context. It covers the meaning and deployment of the term ‘folk’, its wider implications relating to caste, class, and taste, as well as its status in existing practices and scholarship. Whereas colonialists saw folk song as part of the enterprise to understand indigenous minds to better control and administer them, nationalists viewed it as a great resource to reconstruct the nation. After India’s independence, the state along with its middle class tried to institutionalize and appropriate folk song to cater to their tastes, however, it remained largely outside of their control and continues to maintain local and communitarian connections. Adopting a decolonial perspective, this chapter also addresses local hierarchies based on caste and cultural dispossession. Finally, it views folk song and music both as part of everyday life as well as a critique of everyday life that opens up an emancipatory discourse for the future.
In this chapter, legendary artist Peggy Seeger draws together, in characteristically virtuosic fashion, the themes of this book as a whole through the trio of song, singer, and community. Communities, she argues, are the social soil upon which human cultures germinate. They breed and support singers who make, sing, and pass on songs, which in turn act as a group glue, thus creating new communities. She portrays herself as a ‘song-carrier’ and a storyteller, pointing out that folk songs provide us with great templates – opportunities for everyone to narrate their own story in their own way.
This chapter traces the role of folk music in the changing mediascape in North America from the 1940s to the 1960s. Beginning from Jürgen Habermas’s well-known notion of the ‘public sphere’, the essay locates the folk revival at the intersection of new spaces (Greenwich Village) and new media (the long-playing record). It shows how the technology of the LP made possible juxtapositions of songs from all over the world. With the Weavers, the Kingston Trio, and Peter, Paul and Mary, we see the emergence of folk music for a largely white college-educated public. This history shifts with the emergence of folk ‘stars’ Joan Baez and then Bob Dylan. At the same time the manipulation of the recording studio, in the work of Paul Simon and the Byrds, gives folk a new relationship to rock music. We then see how the comedy duo of the Smothers Brothers picks up on the political energy of folk music and blends it with the new medium of television at the end of the 1960s. These technological developments shape folk music as a force in the political culture of the era, from Martin Luther King to the Women’s Movement.
Around the turn of the twentieth century the mélodie claimed a new place in French musical life, recognised increasingly as a genre that could exploit the accomplished musicianship of professional and specialist performers, and compel serious critical attention. Evident even in the changing priorities of the quintessential salon mélodiste Reynaldo Hahn, the new status of song would be confirmed in the riotous reception of Ravel’s Histoires naturelles (1907). Ravel’s mélodies are at the core of this chapter, the composer’s preoccupation with the interplay of poetic and musical form, and with the rhythms and assonances of text, offering guiding threads across an immensely varied body of work. Setting Ravel’s mélodies alongside key works by Hahn, Charles Koechlin and Albert Roussel, together with Lili Boulanger’s transcendent 1914 cycle Clairières dans le ciel, the chapter traces some of the continuities of style, practice and influence that sustained French art song across forty years of seismic musical and cultural change.
This chapter explores the sociopolitical significance of folk instruments, positing them as vital embodiments of cultural identity and history. Through a series of case studies (primarily, the banjo and the Appalachian dulcimer), the chapter illuminates the dynamic interplay between tradition and innovation, revealing how folk instruments are not simply static objects but actively evolving symbols of resilience and cultural memory. Through a critique of traditional taxonomies that often marginalize these instruments, the chapter advocates for a more inclusive framework that recognizes and centres the agency of makers and users. Further, by applying a postcolonial lens, it highlights the importance of embodied aesthetics and the complexities of musical practices within folk traditions. Drawing on the work of Kofi Agawu, it explores both the manufacture of instruments as well as their varied use patterns over time and geographical space. Finally, it situates folk instruments in relation to archies and processes of canonization.
In a time of mass global e-waste production, a re-evaluation of re-purposing and recycling practices feels particularly relevant not only in life but also in art-making processes, especially in temporarily mounted installations, both sonic and visual. What is junk and what is useful material? Can the use of salvaged materials also encourage creativity and innovation? This paper, weaving in theoretical frameworks from sound studies, media archaeology and eco-sonic aesthetics, suggests that using mismatched ‘garbage’ loudspeakers and unconventional loudspeaker arrays can offer sound artists creative opportunities for the exploration of new aural spaces and spatial and timbral possibilities, through the formation of sounding sculptures. Examining Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council-funded sound and art installation Waste Whisperer (2023) as a case study, which involved a bespoke 40 loudspeaker set-up of salvaged ‘trash’, the article also explores the work of artists such as Benoit Maubrey, John Wynne and Nor Tijan Firdaus, who use discarded e-waste as their primary sculptural materials, as well as Paul Rogers’ research around the concept of ‘sonic junk’. In addition, the concepts of transparency and ‘realism’ in the audio medium are discussed, positing critical reflections on prevailing techno-utopian narratives in contemporary audio communities around ‘matching’ loudspeakers and spatialisation conventions.
In soundscape composition, environmental sounds form a ‘language’ that highlights the voices of the environment for everyone’s contemplation. Ideally, they create an atmosphere and space of listening that allow us to grapple with and perceive more deeply the ecological imbalances, social inequalities, cultural gaps, and political issues in which we find ourselves. With the help of compositional examples, the author traces ways in which soundscape compositions can be a forum for ‘speaking back’ in protest, making oppositional voices heard while simultaneously exploring artistic-poetic expressions for a deeper listening engagement with the sonic complexity of environmental sounds and the meanings they carry within them. Furthermore, the author considers whether and how a soundscape composition can be a relationship-builder between environment and listener: can it be an agent for listening to the land, to the natural world, in ways that make urgent and necessary changes of human behaviour possible?
From an eco-spectatorial perspective, every live theatrical event is an ecosystem – a fusion of production, reception, society, and the environment. In Timothy Morton’s phrase from Being Ecological (2018), live theatre is ‘an experiential space’. When theatre (whatever its subject matter) is recognized as ecological, flows of energy, matter, and ideas come into view, as the combined life force driving the whole. In 2016, Carl Lavery asked, of the relationship between performance and the environmental crisis, ‘What Can Theatre Do?’ As a keen reader of nature writing, with a long-standing interest in eco-spectatorship, I see parallels between theatre and nature writing. Yet, a nature/culture divide separates the two fields. In this article, I experimentally conjoin them, in the hope of seeing more clearly what theatre might do. My opening paragraphs set the ecocritical scene. A shift in style brings in nature writing as a practical experiment in spectatorship. I explore several recent examples of live theatre, as a spectator: the RSC/Good Chance 2024 production of Kyoto; the 2024 revival of Complicité’s 1999 devised production Mnemonic; Kae Tempest’s 2021 play Paradise (National Theatre); and the RSC’s 2023 Theatre Green Book production of Shakespeare’s The Tempest.
Festival de Almada – which was established in the city of Almada, on the south bank of the River Tagus, in 1984 – is Portugal’s pre-eminent international theatre festival. Led by its founding director, the acclaimed theatre-maker Joaquim Benite, until his death in 2012, the showcase has been taken forward successfully by his successor Rodrigo Francisco. Famous for its friendly and welcoming atmosphere, its democratic ethos and its ambitious programming, the festival has attracted many of the greatest companies, directors, and actors in world theatre. In 2020, Festival de Almada was the first summer festival to proceed – under assiduously applied public health protocols – in the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic. In this article Mark Brown (who has attended most editions of the festival since 2008) provides a historical overview of the Almada showcase, highlighting particularly significant aspects of its ethos and programming, and offering critical insights into some notable productions.
Theatre reviews have long shaped artistic discourse, but their role in capturing the cultural depth of global majority theatre is seldom addressed. HOME X, a collaboration between East Asian artists in London and Hong Kong, highlights the rich interactions between theatre, diasporic identity, and Chinese literary traditions. However, its British theatre reviews largely ignored these cultural references, prioritizing the production’s technological aspect over HOME X’s deep-rooted engagement with Chinese literature including mythology, fable, poetry, and the novel. This article foregrounds the cultural and literary depth of HOME X, and contrasts it with the limited lens of existing British theatre reviews, further drawing on such theories as Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak’s concept of ‘epistemic violence’ and Ric Knowles’s ‘new interculturalism’ to address the controversies surrounding such reviews. It thus argues for a more inclusive and culturally aware approach to reviewing East and South East Asian (ESEA) performances in an era when global majority theatre practices and audience are visibly increasing.
This article reflects on performing A Taste of Millefeuille, a visual theatre piece by Éric de Sarria that develops the aesthetic and pedagogical legacy of Compagnie Philippe Genty. Focusing on the 2024 production at Theatre YOUNG (Shanghai), it examines how physical manipulation, gendered presence, and material interaction were adapted to linguistic, cultural, and performative contexts. Using a practice-based and auto-ethnographic lens, it explores how memory, rhythm, and performer–object relations were negotiated in rehearsal and performance. These reflections are placed within wider debates on intercultural theatre-making and visual dramaturgy, showing how meaning can emerge across cultures through non-verbal performance.
Drawing on the framework of intermediality, this article investigates Martin McDonagh’s decision to embed Robert Flaherty’s documentary Man of Aran within The Cripple of Inishmaan. Such an intertextual layering produces a dialogic encounter between theatre and cinema that dismantles Flaherty’s idealized vision of a harsh, primitive island existence in 1930s Ireland, substituting instead a sardonic, anti-romantic critique. McDonagh highlights the fractured familial relations, the peculiarities of the island community, and the absence of any natural harmony to construct a counter-perspective. This dramaturgical device of the ‘film-within-a-play’ operates ‘ekphrastically’, allowing the inserted text to breach the dramatic frame and open onto a liminal space – at once intermediary and unstable – between reality and representation. The article argues that this intermedial practice prompts spectators to interrogate both cinematic myth-making and theatrical narration, generating a hybrid aesthetic zone where stage and screen unsettle traditional dramatic forms and broaden the field of interpretation.