tag:theconversation.com,2011:/us/topics/ethnomusicology-8648/articlesEthnomusicology – The Conversation2023-06-13T12:31:02Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2063732023-06-13T12:31:02Z2023-06-13T12:31:02ZAfter ‘Rapper’s Delight,’ hip-hop went global – its impact has been massive; so too efforts to keep it real<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531462/original/file-20230612-260763-85vkdt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=56%2C78%2C4689%2C3053&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">MC Solaar, a pioneer of French rap</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/solaar-en-concert-lors-des-francofolies-de-la-rochelle-en-news-photo/1199615351?adppopup=true">Photo by Eric Catarina/Gamma-Rapho via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Soon after the fall 1979 release of “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcCK99wHrk0">Rapper’s Delight</a>,” versions of the first commercially successful rap recording began cropping up around the world. </p>
<p>Two Portuguese-language versions, “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=byP2Ex4swlg">Bons Tempos</a>” and “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1e5dg4gvEjQ">Melô Do Tagarela</a>,” were put out in Brazil. One version from Jamaica provided a relatively faithful <a href="https://youtu.be/wMp6bSEgk4c">recreation of the Sugarhill Gang original</a>, while “<a href="https://youtu.be/V4GMOL-t7YM">Hotter Reggae Music</a>” slowed down the track, transforming it into reggae. Other local language versions came from the Netherlands with “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RjdqUQnfB7k">Hallo, Hallo, Hallo</a>,” Venezuela with “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U9YyqFF_m0Q">La Cotorra Criolla</a>” and Germany with “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6pQ5Xqv6bQk">Rapper’s Deutsch</a>.”</p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531409/original/file-20230612-167932-xm0gc1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531409/original/file-20230612-167932-xm0gc1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=588&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531409/original/file-20230612-167932-xm0gc1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=588&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531409/original/file-20230612-167932-xm0gc1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=588&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531409/original/file-20230612-167932-xm0gc1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=739&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531409/original/file-20230612-167932-xm0gc1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=739&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531409/original/file-20230612-167932-xm0gc1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=739&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">‘Rapper’s Delight’ spreads to Germany in 1980.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.discogs.com/release/1517110-GLS-United-Rappers-Deutsch/image/SW1hZ2U6Mjc5NzkyNTU=">Metronome Musik GmbH/Discogs</a></span>
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<p>Within a few years, one could hear the song’s DNA being altered in disparate parts of the world, as in Japanese artists Yellow Magic Orchestra’s 1981 “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MHZ1GWEoiP0">Rap Phenomena</a>,” Nigerian Dizzy K. Falola’s 1982 “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrMwSSt1Hd8">Saturday Night Raps</a>” and the French duo Chagrin d’amour’s 1982 “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZLiyZdkkEJU">Chacun fait (c’qui lui plait)</a>.” Even Soviet Russia got into the act with Chas Pik’s “Rap” in 1984.</p>
<h2>… and on and on</h2>
<p>The rapid spread of “Rapper’s Delight” is an important milestone in <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/topics/hip-hop-50-135779">hip-hop’s first 50 years</a>. It marked the beginning of the globalization of rap music and the broader hip-hop culture in which it is embedded, which includes deejaying, break-dancing and graffiti-tagging. </p>
<p>More milestones in hip-hop’s global spread soon followed. In 1984 in France, “<a href="https://youtu.be/9nctOWroU1g">H.I.P.H.O.P.” hosted by DJ Sidney</a> became the first nationally televised weekly show devoted to rap, preceding “Yo! MTV Raps” in the U.S. by some four years. In the early 1990s, a vibrant French rap scene produced the first internationally touring, platinum-selling rap star outside the U.S.: <a href="https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1994-06-08-ca-1865-story.html">MC Solaar</a>. France became – and remains – the second-biggest market for rap in the world. </p>
<p>Indeed, by 2000 the term “global hip-hop” had entered <a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/405511-Various-Speaking-In-Tongues-Diverse-Dialects-From-The-Global-Hip-Hop-Nation">commercial</a> <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=Gg8UiSodjz8C&lpg=PA5&vq=global&pg=PA5#v=onepage&q=%22global%20hip%20hop%22&f=false">and scholarly</a> discourse. Soon, new styles partially informed by hip-hop emerged, like grime in London, <a href="https://youtu.be/yEH6IU7pDOg?t=596">which cultivated its own unique identity</a>.</p>
<h2>The catch</h2>
<p>But the global expansion of hip-hop rides on a paradox. The Black American urban culture that birthed rap and hip-hop makes up its very fabric. But so does the core idea of representing one’s own experience and place. When hip-hop and rap travel abroad, does one or the other have to give? </p>
<p>To an <a href="https://www.wesleyan.edu/academics/faculty/echarry/profile.html">ethnomusicologist</a> like myself, this paradox goes right to the heart of identity and authenticity. How do people use, shape and transform cultural elements from elsewhere to make it speak to their own experience? And in the process, how do markers of authenticity become redefined?</p>
<h2>Multitracking global hip-hop</h2>
<p>With hip-hop, I believe it is helpful to imagine a wide spectrum of possible markers of authenticity – that is, what it means to stay “true” to the art form.</p>
<p>At one end lies the integration of Black American performance styles and fashion. Some efforts may border <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1yKD_-e8neo">appropriation</a> or <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yVR9JykPC-0">mimicry</a>.</p>
<iframe style="border-radius:12px" src="https://open.spotify.com/embed/playlist/4KfQJTnuUojupdOZ3yeH0O?utm_source=generator" width="100%" height="380" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="" allow="autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; fullscreen; picture-in-picture" loading="lazy"></iframe>
<p>At the other end lies hip-hop’s potential to inspire global rappers to dig deep into the well of local performance traditions. This could mean sampling music from their own countries or exploring the <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/20174422">quirks and intricacies of their own languages</a> and dialects. </p>
<p>Pioneering hip-hop scholar <a href="https://www.hosumare.com/about">Halifu Osumare</a> explored authenticity in her concept of “<a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/j.1537-4726.2001.2401_171.x">connective marginalities</a>,” which established the blueprint for theorizing about global hip-hop. This key concept concerns “social resonances between Black expressive culture” on the one hand and similar dynamics in other nations and cultures on the other hand.</p>
<p>These connections or resonances can be tied to a shared culture among different parts of the African diaspora or through social class, historical oppression or the marginalization of youth.</p>
<p>Expanding this framework a bit, almost anyone feeling marginalized can draw on a hip-hop ethos. This could include Ukraine’s Alyonna Alyonna, <a href="https://uatv.ua/en/rapper-singer-fight-cyber-bullying-music">who was bullied for the way she looked</a>, and even <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/lions-of-the-north-9780190212605?cc=us&lang=en&">Nordic white supremacists</a>.</p>
<p>Hip-hop scholar and political activist <a href="https://aalbc.com/authors/author.php?author_name=Yvonne+Bynoe">Yvonne Bynoe</a> presented an alternative view on the genre’s worldwide spread. Writing in 2002, <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/43133478">she noted</a>: “While rap music has been globalized, hip-hop culture has not been and cannot be.” To Bynoe, it is irrational to expect that a cultural expression that is centered around Black American experiences and vernacular can speak for all. </p>
<p>“While ‘rap’ as a creative tool is portable and adaptable, it belittles hip-hop culture to continue to insist that as a cultural entity it can be disassociated from its roots,” she wrote.</p>
<h2>Manufacturing authenticity</h2>
<p>A 2007 documentary about hip-hop in Kenya, with the on-point title “<a href="https://www.hiphopcolony.com/">Hip Hop Colony</a>,” addresses the issue from a different standpoint: “Today, Kenya tackles a new breed of colonization,” the narrator notes, “Its chameleon-like quality has allowed it to integrate with cultures around the world. … It is hip-hop [and] in the vein of colonialism it’s dictating the choice of attire, language and lifestyle in general. Unlike the colonists, its presence is welcomed and widely embraced by the majority.” </p>
<p>In a clever twist, the <a href="https://www.michaelwanguhu.com/">filmmaker, Michael Wanguhu,</a> sets up an initial neo-colonial framework and then dismantles it by showing how Kenyans have made hip-hop their own. </p>
<p>Moreover, hip-hop has been seen as a catalyst for cultural self-reflection and revival wherever it lands. </p>
<p>“The first time we heard Grandmaster Flash rapping on a hip-hop track,” Senegalese rapper Faada Freddy of the group Daara J <a href="https://www.npr.org/2005/05/20/4660446/daara-j-senegalese-hip-hop">said in 2006</a>, “everybody was like, ‘OK we know this, because this is taasu,’” referring to a <a href="https://youtu.be/c_yImWVc5QE">Senegalese verbal art form accompanied by drumming</a>.</p>
<p>“We’ve been rhyming like that for a long time,” he added. </p>
<p>Australian aboriginal rapper Wire MC similarly sees a connection between traditional Indigenous gatherings known as “corroboree” – which involve singing, dancing and telling stories – <a href="http://www.jstor.org/stable/24046901">and hip-hop, which he says</a> “is just a modern corroboree.”</p>
<p>“Hip-hop is a part of aboriginal culture; I think it always has been,” he added.</p>
<p>Native American rapper Frank Waln, of the Sicangu Lakota tribe, also <a href="https://vimeo.com/355341843">notes a resonance between hip-hop and Indigenous culture</a>. </p>
<p>“I definitely think there’s a connection between traditional storytelling and hip-hop,” he said. “My people have been storytellers for thousands of years, and this is just a new way to tell our stories.” </p>
<h2>Digging into the well</h2>
<p>Almost anywhere rap and hip-hop have traveled, people have pointed to its resonance with homegrown traditions. Some have employed those traditions to transform hip-hop into something with deep local roots. In this way, Japanese rapper Hime has <a href="https://read.dukeupress.edu/books/book/1072/Hip-Hop-JapanRap-and-the-Paths-of-Cultural">used the ancient poetic form tanka</a> for the chorus of her song “Tateba Shakuyaku.” In the song, she raps about the Japanese concept of “kotodama,” or “the spirit of the language” embedded in the 5-7-5-7-7 syllable count in that chorus. </p>
<p>Similarly, Ghanaian rapper Obrafour has <a href="https://iupress.org/9780253005755/hip-hop-africa/">drawn on esoteric proverbs in his native Twi language</a>, and Somali Canadian rapper K’Naan has <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/337005283_Hip_Hop_as_dusty_foot_philosophy_Engaging_locality">drawn on and paid tribute to Somali oral poetry</a>.</p>
<p>Historical connections between modern-day French rappers and French song <a href="https://journals.openedition.org/volume/1946">have also been fruitfully explored</a>. This should be no surprise, given the dual identities of the children of African immigrants in France, like rapper <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2012/08/25/world/europe/rapper-abd-al-malik-pushes-for-new-french-identity.html">Abd al Malik</a>. </p>
<p>The indelible link between hip-hop and Black American culture remains a constant theme in how to understand its transformations around the world. Take one of <a href="http://www.szdaily.com/content/2018-08/22/content_21066727.htm">China’s most well-known rappers, Vava</a>. </p>
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<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/aknkofx2bHg?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">VAVA - My New Swag.</span></figcaption>
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<p>In a 2018 interview in Esquire Singapore, she said that hip-hop “helps us to express our innermost emotions and thoughts about how we understand the world we’re living in.” When asked, “American hip-hop has grown out of the African American struggle. So where does Chinese hip-hop come from?” she replied, “Chinese hip-hop comes from rebellion in young people’s lives. … The generation before us were rockers, but today, we use rap to express ourselves.”</p>
<h2>Rap as universal art form</h2>
<p>The “global spread of authenticity,” as linguist <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/15348450701341246">Alastair Pennycook called it in 2007</a>, has been a concern in the genre ever since “Rapper’s Delight” sparked its travel across the world.</p>
<p>In 1982, pioneering deejay <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=WzNEAQAAIAAJ&focus=searchwithinvolume&q=%22rap+in+your+own+language%22">Afrika Bambaataa advised French rappers</a> to “Rap in your own language and speak from your own social awareness.”</p>
<p>Jay-Z addressed the issue in the conclusion of his <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2010/11/23/books/23book.html">2010 memoir, “Decoded</a>.” Implicitly noting the distinction between the culture hip-hop and the art form rap, he wrote: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Rap … is at heart an art form that gave voice to a specific experience, but, like every art, is ultimately about the most common human experiences. … The story of the larger culture is a story of a million MCs all over the world … and inside of them the words are coming, too, the words they need to make sense of the world they see around them. … And when we decode that torrent of words — by which I mean really listen to them with our minds and hearts open — we can understand their world better. And ours, too. It’s the same world.”</p>
</blockquote><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/206373/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Eric Charry does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Hip-hop traveled far after being birthed by Black Americans in US cities. The journey hasn’t always been smooth.Eric Charry, Professor of Music, Wesleyan UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1890922022-10-06T13:44:24Z2022-10-06T13:44:24ZUganda: an ancient circumcision ritual is key to imparting communal knowledge<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/482802/original/file-20220905-18-etse8a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Amirr (centre) parades though his village ahead of the imbalu circumcision ritual. Imbalu begins with dance and music, as initiates visit relatives and friends to receive gifts.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Luke Drey/Getty Images</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Music, dance, drama and poetry are important elements of ritual in African societies. Imbalu, the centuries-old circumcision ritual of Uganda’s <a href="https://www.insidemountelgonnationalpark.com/bagishu-bamasaba-people-culture.html">Bagisu people</a>, is no different. When Bagisu boys between the ages of 16 and 22 undergo this initiation into manhood, they learn the ancient meaning of the practice through music and dance.</p>
<p>Imbalu takes place every even year in August in the remote districts of eastern Uganda close to the border with Kenya. Imbalu ceremonies are not only staged in homes, but also in public spaces. Here, a broader audience witnesses the special dance and music performances.</p>
<p>In <a href="http://www.101lasttribes.com/tribes/Bagisu.pdf">previous</a> <a href="https://books.google.co.za/books?hl=en&lr=&id=MZJMlaisYmwC&oi=fnd&pg=PA71&dq=Dominic+Makwa&ots=optoAgyHI6&sig=XPwA4-uosT3jegD6CRqAhA3xFTc&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q=Dominic%20Makwa&f=false">studies</a>, I have examined these performances. Music and dance are integral from the moment a boy declares he is ready to be initiated until he performs inemba, a final dance marking his return to society.</p>
<p>My most recent <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/yearbook-for-traditional-music/article/abs/musicking-and-dancing-imbalu-at-namasho-enacting-indigenous-education-among-the-bagisu-uganda/47BBFBE5A253EC18B97BA2EA0113B864">study</a> looks at how imbalu music and dance performances act as platforms where boys are tutored about their society’s gender ideology, history and ritual practise. The public performance of these rituals at a sacred place called the Namasho Cultural Site is like a communal classroom where community members attending also share what they know of their history, identity and values.</p>
<p>But imbalu, like other cultural performances among the Bagisu, has been affected by fewer and fewer boys undergoing initiation. Hospital circumcision has become more common, and Christianity, Islam and western education have negatively impacted uptake. Many Bagisu who have adopted western religious practices look at imbalu performances as something of a cult and consider these rituals to be “backward” and “primitive”. </p>
<p>As a result, there is a risk that the music and dance created, performed and transmitted through cultural sites like Namasho at ceremonies like those staged for imbalu will be lost to future generations. However, they are valuable to the community since they transmit social histories, help form identity and teach social values. They should be documented and archived without delay to preserve traditional knowledge for use by future generations.</p>
<h2>Imbalu at Namasho</h2>
<p>The initiate and his family and community members all take on different roles during imbalu performances at Namasho.</p>
<p>The site, in Bududa District, stretches from the local school to the confluence of the Manafwa and Uha rivers. It is known as a place where wars were fought, and where fetishes of medicine men and women were dumped during the precolonial period. (Fetishes, in the form of calabashes or gourds, are objects kept by diviners or traditional healers to give them supernatural power. When they didn’t have successors, such objects were disposed of.) These histories are part of what is taught in the rituals performed at this sacred site.</p>
<p>Different forms of music are played during imbalu. Khukhubulula is one form. The boy, surrounded by friends and relatives, sings songs praising himself, his family and his clan. These are usually composed by him some months earlier. Some songs will praise his girlfriends, as marriage is the phase that follows imbalu among traditional Bagisu.</p>
<p>Then there are bibiwoyo, coaxing songs usually led by men. They use titles like umwami (chief), umukoosi (the one with respect) or umusani (man) to encourage the boy to go through with the circumcision. The community demonstrates to the boy that he will become a “powerful” person in society if he gets circumcised.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/483203/original/file-20220907-12-ap277n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Four people against a backdrop of dark pink sheet. They are colourfully dressed in traditional attire, a man holding a guitar." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/483203/original/file-20220907-12-ap277n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/483203/original/file-20220907-12-ap277n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/483203/original/file-20220907-12-ap277n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/483203/original/file-20220907-12-ap277n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/483203/original/file-20220907-12-ap277n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/483203/original/file-20220907-12-ap277n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/483203/original/file-20220907-12-ap277n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Members of Yoyo Toto Wambale music group pose for a photo before performing at an imbalu ceremony.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Badru Katumba/AFP via Getty Images</span></span>
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</figure>
<p>Then there is kadodi music and dance. Accompanied by five drums, kadodi is performed to accompany initiates as they visit cultural sites and relatives. At Namasho, it entertains initiates and visitors besides also enabling some initiates to meet and interact with girls who may be future marriage partners. Kadodi is so popular at Namasho that bands come to play just to advertise themselves. Moreover, although the isonja dance is displayed earlier in the year, it is sometimes brought to this sacred site to give expert singers an opportunity to advertise themselves to future candidates who hire them to learn how to compose and sing songs. </p>
<p>Lastly, groups congregating at Namasho play prerecorded imbalu songs, produced in a studio or recorded live at the event in previous years. This is meant to entertain candidates but also remind circumcised men about the vows about manhood they made during their own ceremonies, including the need to defend and provide for themselves, their families and the broader community.</p>
<h2>Communal classroom</h2>
<p>Music and dance turn Namasho into a communal classroom for imparting indigenous knowledge and history. Some performances, for example, tell the story of <a href="https://thisisafrica.me/lifestyle/nabarwa-marking-200-years-circumcision-uganda/">Nabarwa and Masaaba</a>, the woman and man who are believed to have introduced imbalu among the Bagisu. Mythical narrative has it that Masaaba, who met Nabarwa and asked for her hand in marriage, was asked by her to be circumcised before they could marry since she came from a circumcising community. When the Bagisu refer to themselves as Bamasaaba, they explicitly mean that they are children of Masaaba. The relationship between Nabarwa and Masaaba is used as testimony that women and men in this community should play complementary roles.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-sacred-sites-act-as-living-archives-in-a-ugandan-community-140571">How sacred sites act as living archives in a Ugandan community</a>
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<p>Another song is about Lutseshe, a famous forefather. In singing this song, the community reminds the initiates about the need to produce children to fill Lutseshe’s land. As boys sing, some spectators will advise them to be assertive and objective if they are to manage their households well. </p>
<p>Through the interaction between women and men as they perform these rituals, their mutual roles in society are underscored. For example, as an initiate sings, his sisters and other female relatives are at the centre of responding to the songs, symbolising the need for women and men to work together on daily activities.</p>
<p>Acts like being smeared with clay from the sacred swamp are a reminder of the history of those who came before. </p>
<h2>Preserving cultural identity</h2>
<p>In the face of the threats to traditions like imbalu from social change, it is crucial that this knowledge be preserved for use by future generations. </p>
<p>Stakeholders like the Uganda Tourism Board, Bududa District local government and academic archives, like Makerere University’s <a href="http://musicarchive.mak.ac.ug">Klaus Wachsmann Audio-visual Archive</a>, need to work together to record and preserve these musical and dance materials. </p>
<p>Imbalu will then continue to offer its lessons to the Bagisu and help maintain their rich cultural identity.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/189092/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Dominic D.B. Makwa does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The ritual site becomes a communal classroom where songs and dances teach history, impart values and preserve cultural identity.Dominic D.B. Makwa, Lecturer, Makerere UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1816442022-04-21T09:36:07Z2022-04-21T09:36:07ZHow culture informs people’s emotional reaction to music – podcast<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/458868/original/file-20220420-24-kenh9n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=16%2C117%2C5582%2C3589&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">People in the Kalash valley in Pakistan during the Joshi festival. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/kalash-valley-chitral-pakistan-16-may-1968180742">thsulemani/Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><em><a href="https://theconversation.com/uk/topics/the-conversation-weekly-98901">The Conversation Weekly</a> podcast is taking a short break this week. In the meantime, we’re bringing you an extended version of one our favourite recent interviews.</em> </p>
<p>In this episode, we speak to a musicologist who’s been finding out how much a person’s cultural background influences their emotional reaction to music – and to certain harmonies. </p>
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<p>When George Athanasopoulos and his colleagues decided to investigate whether a person’s emotional response to music and harmony is innate or shaped by culture, they needed to go to a place with a bad internet connection. </p>
<p>“We wanted to see whether the western concepts of music, which are specifically related to a major chord having a happy connotation and a minor chord having a sad connotation, hold any sort of truth outside a western cultural environment,” says Athanasopoulos, a COFUND/Marie Curie junior research fellow at Durham University in the UK. </p>
<p>To do this, Athanasopoulos needed to find people who hadn’t already been overwhelmingly exposed to western music. But he says this is hard in a world where anyone with an internet connection can “download the latest hits by Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande” via music streaming platforms. </p>
<p>So the researchers decided to go to a remote area of northwest Pakistan to spend time with the Kalash and Kho people who live there. “There’s an unstable electricity grid, which means to an effect that there is no stable internet connection unless one is prepared to travel two hours away to the closest town,” explains Athanasopoulos. </p>
<p>The <a href="https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0244964">research</a> Athanasopoulos and his colleagues published as a result of their time with the Kalash and Kho people is revealing how music considered “happy” to western listeners isn’t necessarily perceived that way by others. In fact, it can be quite the opposite. </p>
<p>Listen to the full episode to hear more about Athanasopoulos’s findings. You can also <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-your-culture-informs-the-emotions-you-feel-when-listening-to-music-171248">read an article</a> he wrote about the research with his colleague Imre Lahdelma. </p>
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<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-your-culture-informs-the-emotions-you-feel-when-listening-to-music-171248">How your culture informs the emotions you feel when listening to music</a>
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<p><em>Vocal recordings in this story are from databases by <a href="https://arxiv.org/pdf/1812.10411.pdf">Latif S et al</a> and <a href="https://citeseerx.ist.psu.edu/viewdoc/download?doi=10.1.1.130.8506&rep=rep1&type=pdf">Burkhardt F et al</a>. Melodies harmonised in a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2vSJFXPOl8&t=5s">wholetone style</a>, and in the style of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aO7NgXq7_9s">a JS Bach chorale</a>, by George Athanasopoulos. Overture to Rossini’s The Barber of Seville, <a href="https://orangefreesounds.com/the-barber-of-seville/">Davis High School Symphony Orchestra</a>.</em></p>
<p>This episode of The Conversation Weekly features an extended version of an interview <a href="https://theconversation.com/south-african-scientists-on-the-inside-story-of-discovering-omicron-and-what-their-experience-offers-the-world-about-future-variants-podcast-176269">first published on February 3</a>. It was produced by Mend Mariwany and Gemma Ware, with sound design by Eloise Stevens. Our theme music is by Neeta Sarl. You can find us on Twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/TC_Audio">@TC_Audio</a>, on Instagram at <a href="https://www.instagram.com/theconversationdotcom/?hl=en">theconversationdotcom</a> or <a href="mailto:podcast@theconversation.com">via email</a>. You can also sign up to The Conversation’s <a href="https://theconversation.com/newsletter?utm_campaign=PodcastTCWeekly&utm_content=newsletter&utm_source=podcast">free daily email here</a>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/181644/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>George Athanasopoulos is also affiliated with the Humboldt University of Berlin. The research field trip to Pakistan was funded by a scholarship in his name by COFUND/Marie Curie Foundation.</span></em></p>From the archive: researchers visited the remote Kalash valleys to investigate how the concept of ‘happy’ and ‘sad’ music differs across cultures. Listen to The Conversation Weekly podcast.Daniel Merino, Assistant Science Editor & Co-Host of The Conversation Weekly Podcast, The ConversationLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1763272022-02-04T16:14:04Z2022-02-04T16:14:04ZSouth African scientists on discovering omicron, plus how culture informs people’s emotional reaction to music – The Conversation Weekly podcast transcript<p><em>This is a transcript of The Conversation Weekly podcast episode: <a href="https://theconversation.com/south-african-scientists-on-the-inside-story-of-discovering-omicron-and-what-their-experience-can-teach-the-world-about-future-variants-podcast-176269">South African scientists on the inside story of discovering omicron – and what their experience can offer the world about future variants</a>, published on February 3, 2022.</em></p>
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<p><em>NOTE: Transcripts may contain errors. Please check the corresponding audio before quoting in print.</em></p>
<p>Dan Merino: Hello, and welcome to The Conversation Weekly. </p>
<p>Gemma Ware: This week, two South African scientists tell us the story of omicron’s discovery – and what lessons their experience can give the rest of the world about future COVID-19 variants.</p>
<p>Shabir Madhi: We found that over the course of four waves, that you cannot prevent the dissemination of a variant by restricting travel to and from a handful of countries, it doesn’t work. </p>
<p>Jinal Bhiman: Hopefully countries going forward will not stigmatise other countries that are identifying variants of concern. </p>
<p>Dan: And, is the human emotional response to music and harmony innate or shaped by culture? I speak to a researcher who travelled to northwestern Pakistan to help answer that very question.</p>
<p>George Athanasopoulos: The idea that we have in the west that major chords convey happiness, is not necessarily true outside the western cultural sphere. </p>
<p>Gemma: I’m Gemma Ware in London.</p>
<p>Dan: And I’m Dan Merino in San Francisco. You’re listening to The Conversation Weekly: the world explained by experts.</p>
<p>Gemma: We’re joined this week by Ozayr Patel, digital editor for The Conversation in South Africa. Hey Oz!</p>
<p>Dan: Hey, how’s it going, Oz?</p>
<p>Dan: Hey Gemma, hey Dan.</p>
<p>Gemma: Oz, you’re in Johannesburg. Tell us, what’s the COVID situation like where you are right now? </p>
<p>Oz: OK, South Africa is on alert level one. This means most restrictions are eased. There are gatherings allowed; no more than 1,000 people indoors and no more than 2,000 people outdoors. Curfews have been lifted, but people are still required to wear masks in public places and to sanitise frequently. </p>
<p>Dan: And how many daily cases are there?</p>
<p>Oz: So, we’re well over the peak. The end of January had numbers in the two and three thousands and about one in ten tests came back positive. </p>
<p>Dan: And what did case numbers and test positivity look like a few weeks ago during the Omicron surge? </p>
<p>Oz: In the peak around December it reached around 37,000 cases, which is about one in every third person who was testing. And around that time daily cases were regularly in the 20,000s. The numbers are much more manageable now and hospitals aren’t overburdened.</p>
<p>Dan: So it was South African scientists who first alerted the world to omicron, and in this episode you and Gemma have been talking to a couple of them about what those first few weeks were like, and I think about some of the really important lessons their experience can provide the rest of the world. </p>
<p>Oz: Yeah that’s right. So, the first person we talked to was Jinal Bhiman. She’s a Medical Scientist at South Africa’s National Institute for Communicable Diseases, which is the national public health institute. </p>
<p>Gemma: When did you first hear about a new variant of coronavirus?</p>
<p>Jinal Bhiman: So, in the first or second week of November, right? Lancet Laboratories, which is a private testing laboratory here in South Africa contacted the NICD. And they said, listen, guys, we’re seeing something strange. And what they were seeing was this S gene target failure.</p>
<p>So, an S gene target failure is basically where you have the S gene for coronavirus not being detected and usually, when you have a PCR test being done, there are three genes that are tested, right? This gene would be one of them. And we usually see all three genes coming up positive. The exception was with the alpha variant – it was also characterised by this S gene target failure – and in South Africa, we didn’t really see high numbers or high frequencies of the alpha variant circulating. </p>
<p>So when Lancet started seeing that it was really quite a rapid increase in the frequency of this S gene target failure, within two weeks, they were quite concerned. So, Lancet Laboratories, in addition to doing PCR testing, they can also do sequencing. So Lancet agreed to select a couple of these S gene target failures, just eight of them, that were from all different districts within one of our provinces, within the Gauteng province, where we first saw this S gene target failure. They were from different age groups, different areas – geographic areas – within this province. And then they sent the raw results basically to us for analysis. </p>
<p>And so at nine o'clock on Friday the 19th of November, in the evening, our Lancet colleague Raquel, she sent us these raw reads. Nine o'clock in the evening.</p>
<p>Gemma: And what was it like when you first saw those raw results?</p>
<p>Jinal: There’s four of us on this team who kind of routinely look at our sequence data. It’s myself, Catherine, Daniel and Josie. So those results came back and literally every single one of these eight specimens had these crazy number of mutations. And so we hadn’t seen this many mutations, so out first thought was “there’s something wrong, we need to redo the analysis”. It’s kind of like an inherent scientific trait, you always criticise anything you see.</p>
<p>So, Friday night, we reran the analysis overnight. Saturday morning, the analysis came out and it had failed. No result. Already, we were like “ah, there’s something weird, there’s something funky.” So that was Josie, she ran the analysis on Friday night, then Daniel said, no, no, no, let him do it, he’s going to rerun the analysis on Saturday. Sunday morning, the analysis came out, it had failed again.</p>
<p>So, Daniel decided, OK, let’s do, let’s try a completely different pipeline. So on Monday morning we got the result on a different pipeline and this time it had worked. It had worked and it was exactly what we had seen that Friday night. All these mutations were confirmed to be real, and yeah. </p>
<p>Gemma: What did you then do, the four of you, then?</p>
<p>Jinal: So, once we confirmed everything, we wanted to just get a couple more samples, and make sure that it was real. We also wanted to get a couple of more sequences, like, from our own kind of surveillance and diagnostic where we’d seen S gene target failures.</p>
<p>We also then got into contact with the rest of our consortium within the network for genomics surveillance in South Africa. We told them about these mutations. They also, you know, tried to reach out to all the various testing labs that make our consortium work. Then we just tried to bulk up the numbers, just tried to get more and more samples so that we could confirm this was real and this was happening. And obviously the diagnostic labs then got involved and they started analysing their data and started seeing across the board that there was this rapid increase in the S gene target failures. So we took about a week to confirm everything and made sure that, you know, we weren’t kind of jumping to conclusions or anything.</p>
<p>Gemma: And what did you do with the data next? </p>
<p>Jinal: The following week was when we shared the data with our government. We uploaded it to GISAID, the public repository for SARS-CoV-2 genomes.</p>
<p>So basically one of the checks that we do when we see something unusual is we check GISAID. Has anybody else seen this, you know? We were checking every single day. We were not seeing anything. We uploaded our sequences on Monday morning, so literally we submitted our presentation to our minister and said there’s no other sequences on GISAID, these are the only ones. And then a couple hours later when we checked again, you know, there were the sequences from both Botswana and Hong Kong.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-hunt-for-coronavirus-variants-how-the-new-one-was-found-and-what-we-know-so-far-172692">The hunt for coronavirus variants: how the new one was found and what we know so far</a>
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<p>Gemma: What happened next?</p>
<p>Jinal: Our government made a formal announcement that Thursday after we informed them. And yes, things exploded from that week on, in terms of travel bans, in terms of scientists trying to do as much as quickly as possible.</p>
<p>So by the second week we had sequenced over 200 samples from across South Africa, all different provinces. I think at that point we had confirmed it in four of our nine provinces. But what was most striking was the diagnostic lab results. So even though we didn’t have sequencing results from every single province, the diagnostic labs were reporting this increase in S gene target failure in every province, and it was rapid and it was drastic. What we also started seeing was that there was an increase in the reinfection risk, regardless of whether the person was vaccinated or not.</p>
<p>And so I think we had an emergency WHO viral evolution working group meeting, I think it was on the Friday after our government announced the variant. And that was when it was declared a variant of concern. And I think rightly so.</p>
<p>Gemma: Tell me personally what it’s been like for you as one of the scientists involved in that first kind of discovery of omicron. There were the travel bans and it was quite a difficult moment for South Africa. What’s happened to you and how have you felt about it?</p>
<p>Jinal: So when we first, you know, obviously found this thing and confirmed it, I felt proud, to be fair. You know, I felt proud that we are doing our job and we’re doing it well and we’re getting this news out. In the very immediate days after our government made this announcement, quite a few of us on the consortium received death threats. And that was really scary. That was really scary because I have a little kid who stays at home alone with a nanny every day. And they basically, you know, they singled some of us out by name and it was, it was scary. Like, that made me question, should I be even doing this kind of thing? But it also made me really upset when all the international travel bans were imposed, because they were irrational, you know? And I think now if you actually go and look at the retrospective data, omicron was across the world.</p>
<p>Gemma: So it must’ve been really scary. Why were people targeting scientists like you? And what’s happened since, has it calmed down?</p>
<p>Jinal: Yeah, thankfully it has calmed down. People were targeting scientists because of the travel bans. You know, South Africa is already in such a precarious economic situation, since the start of this pandemic, it’s impacted our country quite drastically. And so people were angry because there’s now even further economic losses, you know?</p>
<p>And basically they felt that scientists shouldn’t be raising the alarm. Like, this is not benefiting us in any way. And in any case, there’s nothing we can do so why are you telling the whole world about this? That was the reason people were so upset and so angry and I feel them and I completely understand it. It’s just not fun being on the receiving side of that.</p>
<p>Gemma: As omicron cases were reported in more and more countries, labs in South Africa and Sweden were quickly trying to find out how all its mutations would affect our body’s immune response – what’s called neutralisation resistance. They wanted to know how well antibodies induced by the vaccine, or by a prior COVID infection, would protect people against getting infected with omicron.</p>
<p>There were other questions too, about whether the variant was more transmissible. And about how T-cells would respond to an infection. Now, T-cells are a core part of our body’s immune system. They work alongside – but in a different way – to B-cells, which create antibodies. As a little aside here, Jinal told us a really good analogy about how to understand all this.</p>
<p>Jinal: So the B-cell arm, if you think about a war, is kind of like the archers standing on the brink of the castle and they’re shooting down the invaders before they have a chance to get in. And then the T-cell arm, they actually perform the job of killing the invaders once they’re inside the castle. They’re cells, T-cells, that actually go and kill other cells that are infected with virus.</p>
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<a href="https://theconversation.com/t-cells-the-superheroes-in-the-battle-against-omicron-174448">T-cells: the superheroes in the battle against omicron</a>
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<p>Gemma: So while the antibodies help prevent infection, it’s the T-cells which help prevent severe disease and hospitalisation.</p>
<p>Another scientist in South Africa looking closely at the data on all this was Shabir Madhi. He’s a professor of vaccinology at the University of Witwatersrand and a dean of the faculty of health sciences there. He’s been working on vaccine research for nearly three decades, and also led two of the COVID-19 vaccine trials conducted in South Africa.</p>
<p>The Conversation has been talking to him a lot during the pandemic to help explain what’s been happening. And Oz and I called him up again to talk about omicron. Now Shabir is based at a hospital in Soweto, a busy township in the south of Johannesburg, and apologies, but you may hear a bit of traffic noise in the background.</p>
<p>Gemma: What was your first reaction when those scientists called you at the end of November and you saw the sequencing?</p>
<p>Shabir Madhi: Well, I was fairly optimistic still. I was much more optimistic than the guys that were doing the sequencing as to what this meant. They feared that this variant was also going to be able to evade T-cell immunity, and I was sceptical about that. Just leveraging on the experience that I ahead almost a year before with the AstraZeneca vaccine, where the beta variant pretty much evaded antibody induced by the AstraZeneca vaccine, but subsequently the same vaccine was shown to protect against severe disease, due to the beta variant.</p>
<p>So, despite the scientists sounding a more pessimistic note, I was still fairly comfortable that we were not going to experience what we had experienced during the course of the delta variant wave in relation to a large number of severe disease cases and death, and that we would be much better off this time round despite the antibody evasiveness.</p>
<p>Gemma: And what were the next few weeks for you like? You know, what were you doing in November, December in those early stages when omicron was spreading?</p>
<p>Shabir: So we obviously have been involved in a number of studies throughout this period of time, and then in addition to that it was really about engaging with the public and with the scientific community in terms of understanding exactly what is it that we’re facing, and what can we expect moving forward. </p>
<p>And just keeping an eye on the data that was starting to flow in very quickly from a number of places which clearly demonstrated that this variant was far more transmissible than anything that we experienced in the past. But already two to three weeks into this wave, we started to then already post on social media and start engaging with the media saying that there’s something very different, where we are seeing the decoupling of infections relative to hospitalisation and death; the death rate was subdued. </p>
<p>So I started to call physicians in the public sector as well as the private sector, asking them “what are you experiencing?” Because there’s this world sort panic around omicron. Everyone is shutting the borders to South Africa, which was another issue that we needed to tackle in terms of calling countries to account for why they were embarking on a strategy which largely would be futile.</p>
<p>But I think the interaction with the physicians on the ground was very informative in that they were telling me clearly that our ICUs are empty. In fact, the majority of infections that are occurring in the hospitals at the time of the peak of the omicron wave were not people being admitted for COVID-19, but rather incidental infections. Because the practice in the public as well as the private hospitals in South Africa is every individual that was being admitted to hospital is tested irrespective of symptomatology. And at the hospital where my research unit is based – in fact the majority of cases that were being identified – were pregnant women that were delivering babies. There’s about 60 women that were delivering babies per day of whom 30-40% of them with testing positive for the virus.</p>
<p>Gemma: This isn’t the first time South African scientists identified a variant of concern. </p>
<p>In December 2020, the WHO labelled a new variant, first discovered in South Africa, as a variant of concern that later became known as beta. At that time, the first COVID-19 vaccines were only just getting approval worldwide, and in South Africa there was limited immunity from the first wave of infection. As cases rose and pressure on hospitalis mounted, restrictions were tightened. </p>
<p>But when the omicron wave arrived, the South African government’s reaction was different. A curfew – in place in various forms since March 2020 – remained, but no new restrictions were introduced. And then in the last days of 2021, the curfew was lifted.</p>
<p>Oz: How do you think the South African government has dealt with omicron? What do you think it got right, what do you think it got wrong?</p>
<p>Shabir: What they got right this time round was not to reflexively go to a higher level of restrictions as soon as they saw a surge in the number of cases and as soon as scientists sounded the warning of a new variant. They had a much more nuanced approach in that they were planning on focusing on hospitalisation and death. So, that is something that really worked in our favour because we sort of avoided doing further harm to the economy, to the livelihoods of people, just to the mental wellbeing of people. And that much more nuanced approach worked extremely well in South Africa. </p>
<p>What did we get wrong? Unfortunately, government didn’t take some advice with regard to ensuring that we got adequate immunisation vaccine coverage, particularly of the high-risk group, we could have done much better rather than just trying to chase off the numbers of people that were vaccinated. And even up until now, the government still hasn’t got this right, is that it needs to focus on getting 90% of people above the age of 50 vaccinated, rather than going for some arbitrary target of 70% of the population. The other thing they completely miscalculated is delaying the booster dose of vaccine to those people above the age of 50 that had already received one or two doses of vaccine. They created a whole lot of hurdles requiring people to come with a doctor certificate before they would be eligible for a booster dose.</p>
<p>Oz: What’s the situation in South Africa now?</p>
<p>Shabir Madhi: So we’re very much at the tail end of the omicron wave. It does differ across the provinces; in Gauteng province the positivity rate, which is a good metric as to the amount of virus likely circulating, is less than 5%. Nationally that has come down to 8%. At the time of the peak of the omicron wave, our positivity rate was roundabout 39% so we can start making some definitive conclusions, and more so for Gauteng province. And what we experienced in Gauteng is that when we look at all of the number of people that have died of COVID-19 since the start of the pandemic, the omicron wave contributes to less than 5% of all COVID-19 deaths since since the start of the pandemic. The delta variant wave contributed to 50%.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/south-africa-has-changed-tack-on-tackling-covid-why-it-makes-sense-174243">South Africa has changed tack on tackling COVID: why it makes sense</a>
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<p>So we’ve seen a complete decoupling. And again, the same thing goes for hospitalisation. The hospitalisation rate for people that are testing positive, and this includes incidental infections, for the omicron wave is about one third compared to the hospitalisation rate for the delta variant wave. So we’ve just seen a dramatic decoupling of infections, hospitalisation, and death. Deaths have occurred, unfortunately, but we’re sort of going into a period of this pandemic which I term as the convalescent period. And to some extent, my estimate is that the number of people that would have died during the course of the omicron wave is going to be less than the number of people that typically would have died during the course of a season of influenza in South Africa, which was around about 10 to 11,000 before COVID.</p>
<p>Oz: So do you think omicron has made it easier for the world to live with the virus?.</p>
<p>Shabir: Well, I think after the waves have subsided in the countries, countries will reflect with regard to the experience, and I think many countries will start re-calibrating at long last. The UK, pretty much, has now decided that COVID-19 is something they’re going to live with. And I believe many other countries, after this wave has passed, will start coming to the same sort of conclusion. That it’s no longer about preventing infections. Yes, there is consequences to infections, including long COVID, but unfortunately the consequences of the type of restrictions we’ve imposed in society, the economic consequences, the impact of livelihoods, the impact on children in terms of their education, the mental wellbeing of citizens, doesn’t lend itself to a prolongation of the type of restrictions that we’ve indulged in over the past two years. </p>
<p>And also with a high percentage of the population being infected with omicron. I do believe that is going to serve as a boost to immunity that is already arisen from infections, as well as a boost to immunity that has arisen through vaccines. So there’s generally a preservation of the T-cell responses that’s induced by vaccines as well as the natural infection, even when you’ve got variants such as omicron which has got extensive mutations that makes the variant antibody evasive. So I do believe that with omicron being so transmissible, that people will be even more protected against severe disease and possibly even against infections in the next few months.</p>
<p>Gemma: Omicron will not be the last coronavirus variant. Others have emerged since causing flashes of alarm, but so far none of them have been labelled a variant of concern by the WHO. But how much do we know about the way new variants like omicron emerge? Oz put this question to Jinal Bhiman.</p>
<p>Oz: What do we we know, what don’t we know, about where omicron came from?</p>
<p>Jinal: So there are three hypotheses for where this virus came from, and there is not good enough evidence to support any one. </p>
<p>So the first theory, which I think was propagated quite a lot initially, was that because there are so many mutations in omicron, it could have arisen in somebody who had prolonged infection. And because this person has more than two weeks infection with the virus, you have a situation – it’s a closed environment, basically – where you have a cat and mouse between that person’s antibody response and the virus, and that is what drives the selection of more and more mutations. And because it was South Africa, a lot of people were saying this arose in somebody who was HIV positive who had prolonged infection. Because we do know that quite a number of HIV positive people have these prolonged infections because their immune systems are not optimal, obviously.</p>
<p>The second theory is that this virus did a loop and went back into some kind of animal species and has been replicating and being transmitted within this animal species and mutating over time and then swirled back into humans. That’s the second one. And then the third theory is that it’s been mutating, slowly. I mean, this virus has been with us for over two years now and it’s been mutating in the background and because we don’t sequence every single person that’s infected, we don’t even know of every single person that’s infected because there’s so many asymptomatic infections, that this has been mutating in the background and we just haven’t picked it up because it hasn’t infected a large number of people. And maybe it hasn’t been transmissible until it acquired one or two mutations that allowed it to explode.</p>
<p>Oz: How important is it to understand the origins of variants to understand the future trajectory of COVID-19?</p>
<p>Jinal: If we identify the origin of a variant, whether we can practically, you know, find solutions to prevent this from happening, I don’t know that that’s reasonable to even think about. But I think, for example, if we conclusively say that HIV-infected individuals who are immunocompromised are causing for selection of these kinds of variants, then it certainly provides stronger evidence and stronger motivation for us to get back to our HIV programmes, to make sure that we’re trying to get as many people onto ARVs, and virologically suppressed as possible, and return the focus to kind of pre-pandemic issues that are still prevailing.</p>
<p>Gemma: Another variant could spring up anywhere in the world at any time. But which scientists detect it – and where – will ultimately depend on a country’s sequencing and testing capacity.</p>
<p>Oz: What do you think the lessons South Africa’s experience with omicron can provide for the rest of the world and the discovery of other variants in the future?</p>
<p>Shabir: So I think there was a huge amount of scepticism as late as two to three weeks ago with regard to the South African experience and what we were showcasing, where we saying there was this huge decoupling of infection, severe disease and death. And much of that was coming from the north, because they felt that well, the northern hemisphere countries are very different from South Africa in terms of the demographic, which is true. But at the same time, that seems to be oblivious to the reality and to the data. South Africa does not have this phenomenally healthy population. In fact, we’ve got an unhealthier population, despite the younger population than many high income countries. And we have been disproportionately affected during the course of the first three waves. </p>
<p>So there seemed to be a reluctance to accept that the data that we’re showing and optimism that we were expressing was something that was real, until they started to all of a sudden report it from the US and Anthony Fauci indicated we’re seeing the decoupling and you should focus on hospitalisation and death. And then the UK came out and said, well, we’ve also seen this decoupling. And all of a sudden this became the mantra that there is this decoupling. Well, we did say it about a month ago, and we need to ask why was that information … and I do believe it was scientists, high-income country governments were very dismissive and didn’t really apply their minds in terms of the experience that was coming out from South Africa.</p>
<p>Oz: So recently in an interview with BBC, you expressed that you thought western scepticism of the analysis coming out of South Africa was racist. Can you tell us why, what led you to say this? </p>
<p>Shabir: Yeah, so I need to correct it. I didn’t say that it was racist. In fact, I was asked by the person that was interviewing me whether it’s racism. And I said it might be, but I don’t think it’s racism. I think, especially as a South African, we’re extremely sensitive to the use of the term racism. What I do believe it is, is cultural imperialism, which is different. And cultural imperialism has got an element of superiority. Superiority of thought and superiority that “we know best”.</p>
<p>But again, when people express concern that your experience is going to be different in our country, that has got 90% vaccine coverage, for me that is difficult to comprehend because it undermines the case for vaccination. And especially when we think the primary goal of vaccines is to protect against severe disease and death. And then all of a sudden to make a U-turn and say, well, we can’t really say whether these vaccines are going to protect against severe disease and deaths due to omicron, knowing that vaccines induce a substantial amount of other responses than just antibody responses, which are less effected by the mutations that have occurred. And the models are already predicted that the T-cell immunity that was going to be induced by vaccines and by past infection, were going to be relatively conserved, despite the mutations that occurred in omicron. I mean, I think those scientists and governments need to explain themselves. But I do believe it’s a manifestation of cultural imperialism where we will not believe anyone else unless we show the same first.</p>
<p>Gemma: How can other countries prepare themselves if they discover a variant in their geography in the future, learning from South Africa’s experience? What should they be focusing on?</p>
<p>Shabir: Well to avoid the type of reaction that was inflicted on South Africa, just don’t share your data, that’s the safest thing to do! And obviously that’s the most reckless thing to do and the most unscientific thing to do. And I think the global community needs to make a stance that when countries start reporting data, they’re not going to be penalised for it.</p>
<p>Which is pretty much what happened to South Africa. South Africa were penalised for being forthcoming with the data. And that’s an incorrect approach. And we’ve now learned over the course of four waves that you can not prevent the dissemination of a variant by restricting travel to and from a handful of countries, it doesn’t work. So I think we need to, as a global community, have some sort of agreement, which countries need to abide to, that if they were one thing to prevent importation of the variant into the countries, they will shut the borders to the rest of the world, without any exception. On the other hand, if they are wanting to be part of the global community, then they need to accept that you take on some risk and that risk needs to be shared. </p>
<p>So again South Africa has done a marvellous job in terms of sequencing. They’ve got a very structured program that’s been very aggressive when experiencing resurgence. To investigate the genesis of that resurgence – the beta variant as well as the omicron variant were largely a consequence of responding to a peak in cases in one part of the country or another. So I would certainly believe that countries need to continue, but at the same time, I think it’s important as scientists for us to be measured in a manner in which we communicate the information. </p>
<p>And much of the fallout from omicron was because of the manner in which we communicated the potential consequences of these mutations without really sitting back and saying, “well, there is a different dimension to this.” So we need to continue keeping our eye on emergence of new variants, but we need to be careful in terms of using the computer modelling about the potential effects of the mutations and extrapolating that this is what will happen from a clinical perspective.</p>
<p>Gemma: South African scientists are still working hard to understand omicron and what it does to our bodies. We asked Jinal Bhiman what questions she and her colleagues are currently trying to answer.</p>
<p>Jinal: Currently, omicron has been sub-categorised into three different lineages, and then a further sublineage within one of those. And what’s interesting is that initially one of those lineages has been responsible for global cases. And now we’re seeing the second one of those sublineages is actually starting to increase in frequency.</p>
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<a href="https://theconversation.com/ba-2-is-like-omicrons-sister-heres-what-we-know-about-it-so-far-176137">BA.2 is like Omicron's sister. Here's what we know about it so far</a>
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<p>So, what we want to know is what’s the difference? Does the second sublineage have some kind of immune difference? Is it more resistant? Is it less resistant? Can it produce more virulence more effectively in our cells than the first version? Trying to understand those differences because the second sublineage, it’s dominating in India, it’s dominating in Denmark. We’re seeing increases here in South Africa as well.</p>
<p>We’re also trying to look at what happens after breakthrough infection. Because what we’ve seen is that now with omicron, most people are not getting severely ill, right? So what is happening in terms of their antibody response?</p>
<p>Gemma: It could be one boosts the other. You’ve had the vaccine and then the infection boosts the response of the vaccine?</p>
<p>Jinal: Yeah, it definitely does. But we want to understand – because we’re scientists and we just like going into detail – is it just because there’s more antibody, like, irrespective of the quality of the response, there’s just more of it? Or is it because the antibody is maturing and it’s changing and getting better when you have this boost by infection?</p>
<p>Gemma: Wow, fascinating. One final question. What advice would you give scientists elsewhere in the world who might be the first to discover a variant of concern in the future, given your own experience and what’s happened to you in those early days and then what’s happened since?</p>
<p>Jinal: I would go for transparency. Be open, be honest. And I think the WHO has now made a lot of recommendations that travel bans are not useful, they’re not rational. And so hopefully countries going forward will not stigmatise other countries that are identifying variants of concern or new variants. I mean, I understand as well it’s, you know, acting out of caution and when you don’t know, you want to be as cautious as possible. But, we need to think more globally and we need to think of how these things impact everyone, not just your own country.</p>
<p>Gemma: Well thank you, Jinal, for all the work you and your team are doing and the breakthroughs you’re making, and just your contribution to all our safety. We appreciate it, from all over the world.</p>
<p>Jinal: Thank you, thanks.</p>
<p>Gemma: Oz, before you go, let’s give a shout out to your podcast, Pasha. </p>
<p>Dan: Can you tell the listeners what your podcast is about, Oz?</p>
<p>Oz: Sure, so Pasha is The Conversation Africa’s podcast. In it we try to give you some of the best and brightest research on the African continent. </p>
<p>Gemma: And people can find it by searching for Pasha wherever you get your podcasts. Do subscribe everybody. Thanks for coming on Oz, it’s been great having you on the show.</p>
<p>Oz: Thanks for having me.</p>
<p>Dan: Thank you!</p>
<p>Gemma: Now, for our next story, we’re going to hear about some new science in the field of cross-cultural musicology: the way different cultures perceive music. </p>
<p>Dan: In particular, the open question this research asked was whether cultures perceive the emotional meaning of harmonies differently. Basically, can happy chords to western ears sound sad to someone from a different culture? Or is that feeling somehow innate to all humans? To find out, I called up George Athanasopoulos from Durham University in the UK. </p>
<p>George Athanasopoulos: I am an ethnomusicologist and I work together with music psychologists trying to resolve the mysteries of music and emotion in a cross-cultural perspective. So the focus of the research that I did whilst I was working at the music and science lab of Durham University together with my colleagues, was <a href="https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0244964">how we perceive elements of music and specific musical harmony in a cross-cultural setting.</a></p>
<p>So, what we wanted to see was first, whether all people regardless of their cultural background have the potential to distinguish emotions which are found in music in the sense of perception, not emotional feeling, because these are two very different things. </p>
<p>Dan: Can you explain the difference in what you mean between feeling an emotion from music versus perceiving an emotion from music?</p>
<p>George: For example, if someone listens to a very happy tune and as in, for example, Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles, they may be able to be certain that this is a happy tune, or at least the band is trying to convey happiness through the song, however, this doesn’t necessarily mean that I am feeling happy right now when I listen to the song.</p>
<p>Dan: So how is happiness conveyed in western music through harmony? </p>
<p>George: OK, so the concept of harmony at least in the west, it’s how we create music that sounds “together”. So imagine as voices being built upon each other. This element, where music sounds together or voicing sounds together is called a chord, when it is built on layer upon layer of people trying to sing together and then instruments playing together. Other cultures do not necessarily think like this, when they are creating their music, when they’re trying to build their fundamental building blocks. For example, a melodic line in some cultures may be more important than the court progressions that we’ve got in the west.</p>
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<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-your-culture-informs-the-emotions-you-feel-when-listening-to-music-171248">How your culture informs the emotions you feel when listening to music</a>
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<p>Dan: Can you give an example of a song that includes what we consider a sad sounding chord or harmony in the west?</p>
<p>George: So, a very sad song from The Beatles, for example, would be And I Love Her. Yeah, that’s very sad song in the minor chord. </p>
<p>Dan: So what you’re saying is someone might listen to The Beatles And I Love Her and interpret that totally different from an emotional perspective, depending on the culture they’re influenced by?</p>
<p>George: Yep, that was the first part of our research. So basically, sit down and see how the emotional perception of music is influenced – if it is influence-able – by our listeners’ cultures. </p>
<p>The second objective that we wanted to see was whether the western concepts of music, which are specifically related to, let’s say, a major chord having a happy connotation and a minor chord having a sad connotation, hold any sort of truth outside a western cultural environment.</p>
<p>Then the next block that we needed to see and assess is how much has the culture that we intended to work with been influenced by western culture. Ever since the internet has arrived, everyone the moment that they connect to the internet, they will try to go to music-sharing platforms to listen to and download the latest hits by Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande. So then, our job is very, very difficult. </p>
<p>In our case, the cultures that we chose to work with were in remote northwest Pakistan, close to the borders with Afghanistan. The reason why we chose to work there was, first of all, because there is an unstable electricity grid, which means to an effect that there is no stable internet connection unless one is prepared to travel two hours away to the closest town.</p>
<p>Dan: And then what do you do? So tell me how you actually went to this place and tested these theories to see if music is cross-cultural. </p>
<p>George: Before we even started playing music for our participants, first, we had voice recordings. Voice recordings from Urdu, which is the lingua franca in Pakistan. And then we would ask our participants, can you recognise the emotion expressed in this voice recording? </p>
<p>If they were able to do it with their own language, then we will move on along to German. And the reason why we picked German, because it was almost impossible that anyone there would speak German. If you were able to do it in German, as in recognise the expression, the emotional expression of the speakers, then we’ll say, “OK, this is going pretty well, let’s now try it with their own music”. And ask them what’s the emotional connotation behind this piece of music?.</p>
<p>If we were able to do this, then we move them on to western music. And we would ask them, can you discern the emotional connotations of this piece of western music? Now, we didn’t use any type of music. We used music from a database, which we knew already the emotional connotations that it would elicit from listeners in the west. So we were able to compare and contrast between our two groups. </p>
<p>So, once our participants were able to discern emotions in their own language, in a foreign language, in their own music, and then in western music, only and only then we would start playing to them artificial musical stimuli that we had developed in the lab, which would assess specifically the concept of musical harmony.</p>
<p>Dan: So, sounds like you successfully did jump through these hoops, George. So tell me, what did you guys find? Is harmony a cross-cultural universal thing or is it different?</p>
<p>George: So, first of all, we found that our participants, regardless if they were westerners or if they came from tribes in northwest Pakistan, they were very, very successful in being able to recognise emotion in speech.</p>
<p>Second thing, they are very, very good in recognising emotions in the music, even outside their own cultural sphere. Why is that? Because some fundamental elements of music – as in tempo, and loudness, and even pitch height – works in a similar manner across cultures. So the faster a piece is, the more energy it conveys, at least to the perception of the listener. The more loud a piece of music is the more dominant it is perceived to be.</p>
<p>And now here comes the interesting cultural bit, because when we started collecting data, we saw for specific pieces of music, he emotional connotations started to differ. And why is this? Because the tribes in northwest Pakistan do not have the same ideas about tags in music as we do in the west. </p>
<p>Dan: What do you mean by tags?</p>
<p>George: By tags, I mean the way that we separate the music into different genres, and the connotations that we have for each genre. And now this created some very, very interesting results for us. For example, our participants thought that heavy metal music, because it is very, very fast and very, very loud conveys happiness.
Why is that? Because their own music, when it’s trying to express joy and happiness is very fast and very loud, so that everyone can dance to it. So they would listen to speed metal from 1980s, from Grip Inc to Slayer to Sepultura, to Mayhem they would think, “oh my God, this is happy music”.</p>
<p>At the same time, they would listen to Rossini operas, and at least some Rossini operas in the western cultural sphere are perceived to be very, very happy, especially tunes from the Barber of Seville. However, our participants, when they would listen to it, they would rate it as being less happy than the pieces from speed metal that they would listen to beforehand. And vice versa. </p>
<p>At the same time, there were commonalities across groups. For example, when our participants would listen to very sad, very emotional film music, they would be able to discern that this music conveys sadness. Why? Because the tempo was extremely slow. It was not so loud. And the way that they saw it, it also matched their idea, their perception of something sad. </p>
<p>Dan: OK, so that has to do with the actual songs themselves, but let’s get into the harmonies because this was kind of the end goal of your research. So what did you find with harmonies?</p>
<p>George: The idea that we have in the west that major chords convey happiness is not necessarily true outside the western cultural sphere. And why is that? Because after hours and hours of experimenting with the two tribes in northwest Pakistan, we found that actually for them, it is the minor chord, which conveys happiness. </p>
<p>And how did we come to see this? Because of their own music, it’s overwhelmingly in the minor scale, especially one of the two tribes. So one tribe was the Kho and the other tribe was the Kalash. So for the Kho tribe, we’ve done an analysis of their own music through cassette recordings that we bought at the local market. And we saw that about 85% of the music is in the minor mode. A small percent, 10% is in the major mode. And then 5% is in an in-between mode between major and minor. OK, so we saw that by exposure alone, their perception of what conveys happiness and what doesn’t, is reversed in relation to the west. Another thing that we found is that the way that dissonance and consonance is perceived is somewhat similar to the west.</p>
<p>Dan: Can you just explain for people who don’t know what dissonance and consonance are? </p>
<p>George: Yes, absolutely. So, consonance is something which when we listen to it, to our perception and perspective, sounds good. Dissonance is something that, let’s say, a blast, a chromatic blast of a fist slamming down on a piano, that’s rather dissonance. OK. What we came to see was that specific elements of dissonance are universal. And why is that? We think that it has something to do with the inner ear, the way that our inner ear functions and it perceives sounds. </p>
<p>Dan: Very cool. Well, George, last question. What’s next? </p>
<p>George: My next project explores how music can affect, and in turn is affected, by social cultural parameters. So, we’re trying to see what else can music do for us apart from conveying emotions. </p>
<p>Dan: I very much look forward to it, George. It’s been an absolute pleasure chatting with you today, thank you so much. </p>
<p>George: Thank you very much for giving me the opportunity to talk about my research. </p>
<p>Dan: You can read a <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-your-culture-informs-the-emotions-you-feel-when-listening-to-music-171248">story that George and his colleague Imre Lahdelma</a> have written about their research on The Conversation. It’s a part of a series of long form articles we run called Insights. </p>
<p>One last thing, George actually mentioned a really cool project called the <a href="https://musicalgeography.org/2020/12/08/the-global-jukebox/">Global Jukebox</a>. It’s run by a friend of his and basically a website with a map of the world on it. And you can just click around and listen to music from literally thousands of different places across the globe. It’s super cool.</p>
<p>Gemma: Elsewhere on The Conversation this week, we’ve been covering the political pressure British prime minister Boris Johnson is facing over parties held at No. 10 Downing Street during coronavirus lockdowns. Here’s Laura Hood in London. </p>
<p>Laura Hood: Hi, I’m Laura Hood, politics editor for The Conversation based in London, where it’s been a very difficult few weeks for our prime minister Boris Johnson. Johnson’s been plagued by allegations for months now that he and his staff were holding parties at Downing Street and in other government buildings at the height of the pandemic in 2020. And the reason why this has caused so much anger is that the rest of the country was, at that time, living under strict lockdown rules set by the government. The drama peaked this week when the initial findings of an internal investigation were published by senior civil servant Sue Gray, and Gray has uncovered behaviour that she said was “difficult to justify”, including a culture of excessive drinking. And she’s revealed that no fewer than 16 separate events had been identified as inappropriate. </p>
<p>So, the Gray report was a heavily stripped back version of what we had been expecting, and that’s because, as we’ve now learned, 12 of these 16 events had been referred to the police. So the UK currently has a leader who is under criminal investigation. </p>
<p>Robert Pyper, emeritus professor of government and public policy at the University of the West of Scotland, gave us <a href="https://theconversation.com/four-key-takeaways-from-the-partygate-investigation-into-boris-johnsons-downing-street-176100">four key takeaways on the day the report was released</a>, and he wrote that while Johnson has survived the immediate fallout, he has every reason to fear the outcome of the police investigations. Members of his party are furious with him and worry that keeping him as leader could damage their electoral prospects.</p>
<p>Stephen Gibb, who’s also from the University of the West of Scotland, wrote for us about <a href="https://theconversation.com/boris-johnson-pledges-to-fix-downing-street-after-partygate-but-this-is-a-failure-of-his-leadership-176169">how Johnson responded to the Gray report</a>. He helped us read between the lines of Johnson’s speech in parliament, and saw that the prime minister’s attempts to make this an admin issue were really a thinly veiled deflection tactic designed to draw attention away from his personal failings as a leader. </p>
<p>The next few weeks will be decisive for Johnson. He’s hoping to appease his critics within the party as soon as he possibly can, and that’s because if 54 of them write letters of no confidence to their parliamentary caucus leader, he could face a leadership challenge. Our experts will be on hand to bring you updates every step of the way.</p>
<p>Gemma: Laura Hood there in London. That’s it for this week. Thanks to all the academics who’ve spoken to us for this episode, and thanks to The Conversation editors Ina Skosana, Paul Keaveny, Josephine Lethbridge and Stephen Khan. Thanks also to Alice Mason for our social media promotion and Katie Francis with help on our transcripts. </p>
<p>Dan: You can find us on Twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/TC_Audio">@TC_Audio</a>, on Instagram at <a href="https://www.instagram.com/theconversationdotcom/?hl=en">theconversationdotcom</a> or <a href="mailto:podcast@theconversation.com">via email</a> at podcast@theconversation.com. And you can also sign up to The Conversation’s <a href="https://theconversation.com/newsletter?utm_campaign=PodcastTCWeekly&utm_content=newsletter&utm_source=podcast">free daily email</a> by clicking the link in the show notes.</p>
<p>Gemma: The Conversation Weekly is co-produced by Mend Mariwany and me, Gemma Ware, with sound design by Eloise Stevens. Our theme music is by Neeta Sarl. </p>
<p>Dan: I’m Dan Merino. Thank you for listening.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/176327/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jinal Bhiman receives funding from the South African National Department of Health as part of the emergency COVID-19 response; a cooperative agreement between the National Institute for Communicable Diseases of the National Health Laboratory Service and the United States Centers for Disease Control and Prevention; the African Society of Laboratory Medicine (ASLM) and Africa Centers for Disease Control and Prevention through a sub-award from the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation; the UK Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office and Wellcome; the South African Medical Research Council and the South African Department of Science and Innovation; the UK Department of Health and Social Care, managed by the Fleming Fund and performed under the auspices of the SEQAFRICA project. She is affiliated with the University of the Witwatersrand; and serves as an observer of the World Health Organization Technical Advisory Group on Viral Evolution. Shabir A. Madhi's institution receives funding from SAMRC, BMGF, Novavax, Pfizer and JJ for research undertaken by the institution. He also receives advisory fees from BMGF. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>George Athanasopoulos is also affiliated with the Humboldt University of Berlin. The research field trip to Pakistan was funded by a scholarship in his name by COFUND/Marie Curie Foundation.</span></em></p>This is a transcript of The Conversation Weekly podcast episode published on February 3 2022.Gemma Ware, Editor and Co-Host, The Conversation Weekly Podcast, The ConversationDaniel Merino, Assistant Science Editor & Co-Host of The Conversation Weekly Podcast, The ConversationLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1762692022-02-03T11:38:02Z2022-02-03T11:38:02ZSouth African scientists on the inside story of discovering omicron – and what their experience offers the world about future variants. Podcast<p>What is it like to discover a new coronavirus variant? In this episode of <a href="https://theconversation.com/uk/topics/the-conversation-weekly-98901">The Conversation Weekly podcast</a>, we hear the inside story from one of the South African scientists who first alerted the world to the omicron variant. And a South African vaccine expert explains what lessons the country’s experience can offer the rest of the world about future variants. We’re joined by Ozayr Patel, digital editor for The Conversation based in Johannesburg for this story.</p>
<p>Plus, new research finds a person’s emotional reaction to music has a lot to do with their cultural background – we speak to the musicologist behind it. </p>
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<p>It was nine o'clock on a Friday evening in late November 2021 when Jinal Bhiman and her colleagues at the National Institute for Communicable Diseases first saw the sequencing data for the omicron variant. “We hadn’t seen those many mutations before,” says Bhiman, a principal medical scientist at the institute. The sequencing data came from a small group of eight samples from South Africa’s Gauteng province where an unusual cluster of cases had been spotted. </p>
<p>Over the following week, scientists across South Africa’s network for genomics surveillance swung into action to sequence more samples, before Bhiman and her colleagues alerted the South African government to their discovery. “Things exploded from that week on,” says Bhiman. </p>
<p>The World Health Organization quickly classified the discovery as a variant of concern and <a href="https://www.who.int/news/item/26-11-2021-classification-of-omicron-(b.1.1.529)-sars-cov-2-variant-of-concern">called it omicron</a>. As countries around the world began closing their borders to travellers from southern Africa, Bhiman and some of her colleagues received death threats. “That was really scary,” she remembers. Scientists were targeted because of the travel bans. “They felt that scientists shouldn’t be raising the alarm – that this is not benefiting us in any way,” she says. Bhiman believes that the travel bans were irrational, because of the speed at which the variant moved around the world. </p>
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<p>Shabir Madhi, professor of vaccinology at the University of Witwatersrand, is a vaccine expert who’s worked on a couple of South Africa’s COVID-19 vaccine trials. He recalls that when he first saw the sequencing data on omicron, he was “fairly optimistic” that the immunity built up by vaccines and past waves of infections would protect against severe disease. And he was right. “We’ve seen a dramatic decoupling of infections, hospitalisations and death,” says Madhi.</p>
<p>But Madhi criticises the scepticism scientists in the northern hemisphere had about the early omicron data coming out of South Africa. “It’s a manifestation of cultural imperialism, where we will not believe anyone else unless we show the same first,” he says. He believes South Africa’s experience can offer lessons to scientists in other countries who may discover another coronavirus variant, particularly when it comes to travel bans. “I think the global community needs to make a stance that when countries start reporting data, they’re not going to be penalised for it,” he says. Madhi also thinks countries need to be careful about using “computer modelling about the potential effects of the mutations and extrapolating that this is what will happen from a clinical perspective”.</p>
<p>In our second story, we explore whether a person’s emotional response to music and harmony is innate or shaped by culture. George Athanasopoulos, COFUND/Marie Curie junior research fellow at Durham University in the UK, travelled to a remote region of northwestern Pakistan to spend time with the Kalash and Kho people who live there. His <a href="https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0244964">research</a> is revealing that music considered “happy” to western listeners, for example in a major key, isn’t necessarily perceived that way by others. “After hours and hours of experimenting with the two tribes in northwest Pakistan,” he explains. “We found that actually for them, it’s the minor chord which conveys happiness.” (Listen from 34m15s.)</p>
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<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-your-culture-informs-the-emotions-you-feel-when-listening-to-music-171248">How your culture informs the emotions you feel when listening to music</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
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<p>And Laura Hood, politics editor for The Conversation based in London, recommends some expert analysis on the political pressures facing the British prime minister, Boris Johnson, over parties held during the lockdowns. (Listen from 47m10s)</p>
<p>This episode of The Conversation Weekly was produced by Mend Mariwany and Gemma Ware, with sound design by Eloise Stevens. Our theme music is by Neeta Sarl. You can find us on Twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/TC_Audio">@TC_Audio</a>, on Instagram at <a href="https://www.instagram.com/theconversationdotcom/?hl=en">theconversationdotcom</a> or <a href="mailto:podcast@theconversation.com">via email</a>. You can also sign up to The Conversation’s <a href="https://theconversation.com/newsletter?utm_campaign=PodcastTCWeekly&utm_content=newsletter&utm_source=podcast">free daily email here</a>. </p>
<p>A transcript of this episode is <a href="https://theconversation.com/south-african-scientists-on-discovering-omicron-plus-how-culture-informs-peoples-emotional-reaction-to-music-the-conversation-weekly-podcast-transcript-176327">available here</a>. </p>
<p>Newsclips in this episode are from <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Km61NBmQM0w">CNBC Television</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4POmoKWnhxo">DW News</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZAfCh_WgMs">WION</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DaYYDsur8YA">NBC News</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zGujpGHp7P0">SABC</a> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r22z_E-8168">News</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dmQdD7s-6II">CBS News</a>. Vocal recordings in the musical harmony story from databases by <a href="https://arxiv.org/pdf/1812.10411.pdf">Latif S et al</a> and <a href="https://citeseerx.ist.psu.edu/viewdoc/download?doi=10.1.1.130.8506&rep=rep1&type=pdf">Burkhardt F et al</a>. Melodies harmonised in a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2vSJFXPOl8&t=5s">wholetone style</a>, and in the style of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aO7NgXq7_9s">a JS Bach chorale</a>, by George Athanasopoulos. Overture to Rossini’s The Barber of Seville, <a href="https://orangefreesounds.com/the-barber-of-seville/">Davis High School Symphony Orchestra</a>. </p>
<p><em>You can listen to The Conversation Weekly via any of the apps listed above, download it directly via our <a href="https://feeds.acast.com/public/shows/60087127b9687759d637bade">RSS feed</a>, or find out how else to <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-to-listen-to-the-conversations-podcasts-154131">listen here</a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/176269/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jinal Bhiman receives funding from the South African National Department of Health as part of the emergency COVID-19 response; a cooperative agreement between the National Institute for Communicable Diseases of the National Health Laboratory Service and the United States Centers for Disease Control and Prevention; the African Society of Laboratory Medicine (ASLM) and Africa Centers for Disease Control and Prevention through a sub-award from the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation; the UK Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office and Wellcome; the South African Medical Research Council and the South African Department of Science and Innovation; the UK Department of Health and Social Care, managed by the Fleming Fund and performed under the auspices of the SEQAFRICA project. She is affiliated with the University of the Witwatersrand; and serves as an observer of the World Health Organization Technical Advisory Group on Viral Evolution. Shabir A. Madhi's institution receives funding from SAMRC, BMGF, Novavax, Pfizer and JJ for research undertaken by the institution. He also receives advisory fees from BMGF. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>George Athanasopoulos is also affiliated with the Humboldt University of Berlin. The research field trip to Pakistan was funded by a scholarship in his name by COFUND/Marie Curie Foundation.</span></em></p>Plus, is the human emotional response to music innate or is it shaped by a person’s culture? Listen to The Conversation Weekly podcast.Gemma Ware, Editor and Co-Host, The Conversation Weekly Podcast, The ConversationDaniel Merino, Associate Science Editor & Co-Host of The Conversation Weekly Podcast, The ConversationLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1438092020-08-24T14:48:51Z2020-08-24T14:48:51ZWhat archaeology tells us about the music and sounds made by Africa’s ancestors<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354099/original/file-20200821-18-lf1c0l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Music has been part and parcel of humanity for a long time. Not every sound is musical, but sound has meaning and sometimes the meaning of sound is specific to its context. </p>
<p>But when it comes to archaeology there is scant evidence of music or sound producing artefacts from southern Africa. This is because of poor preservation of the mostly organic materials that were used to manufacture musical instruments. Rock art offers depictions of musical instruments as well as scenes of dancing that can be linked with music performance, but here only music-related artefacts will be discussed.</p>
<p>I conducted original research as well as a survey of the literature available on these artefacts. Ethnographic sources were also consulted in order to attempt to provide a broader contextual background against which knowledge of the archaeological implements could be expanded. The <a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/book/60594">Percival Kirby</a> online musical instrument <a href="https://digitalcollections.lib.uct.ac.za/percival-kirby-musical-instruments">repository</a> has also been used. Music archaeology is multidisciplinary in nature. </p>
<p>The result is one of the <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/0067270X.2020.1761686?casa_token=z6HOLccq43UAAAAA%3A6WDeEMhfWxKHzlYrtG0qcAb_IeAKhVNKZKbOlJsHabLol56zzmHJqytRlAZrQRhm4eHR4B_SBNyfLJ0">first reports</a> on southern African sound- and music-related artefacts.</p>
<p>Research in music archaeology in southern Africa has just begun. Available evidence dates back from around 10,000 years ago, from the Later Stone Age up to the Iron Age. The artefacts fall into two groups, namely <a href="https://www.britannica.com/art/aerophone">aerophones</a>, where sound is produced by vibrating air, and <a href="https://www.britannica.com/art/idiophone">idiophones</a>, where sound is produced by solid material vibrating. These artefacts include spinning disks, bullroarers, bone tubes that could have been used as flutes or whistles, clay whistles, keys from thumb pianos (also called lamellophones or mbiras), musical bells and an ivory trumpet. The list is not exhaustive and more research needs to be conducted.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A man and a woman warmly dressed sorting through dug up objects in a cave." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354105/original/file-20200821-22-11ijl2w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The author and Professor Sarah Wurz digging at Klasies River.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Supplied</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These music-related or sound-producing artefacts are made from various materials, including bone, ivory, metal and clay. The artefacts show how integral sound and music production was in the socio-cultural practices of people in the past, most likely for entertainment and rituals. Sound production and music making is a sign of being fully human.</p>
<h2>Aerophones</h2>
<p>Recent experimental work <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S2352409X18307612?casa_token=I77Wl8CEl-sAAAAA:MzDQ9oy-A-D6OiAUrNyfw73uOcq_dTGkFHXRRSEmpAoZCoqfjQvmc49q1r_22-AzLtUU-U_728YJ">established</a> that some Later Stone Age bone implements from the <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S2352409X18307612?via%3Dihub">Klasies River</a> Mouth and <a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/prehistory-of-the-matjes-river-rock-shelter/oclc/4681377">Matjes River</a> sites are a spinning disk and a bullroarer respectively. Their replicas produced powerful whirring sounds and they can be referred to as <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-our-african-ancestors-made-sound-in-the-stone-age-121142">sound-producing</a> implements even though the purpose of the sound or their use cannot be clearly ascertained. They could have been used as signalling implements, toys, in ritual settings or in musical contexts, among others. Nowadays these implements are seldom found in the region.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A flat disc shaped like a mollusc with a hole through its thin end." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=320&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=320&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=320&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354111/original/file-20200821-18-qwblwr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Bullroarer found at Matjes River.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Joshua Kumbani</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Bone tubes, mainly in bird bone, have been recovered from Later Stone Age contexts from the southern and western Cape of South Africa and some were also recovered from historical contexts. Previously, these bone tubes were interpreted as sucking tubes and beads. But morphological analysis – or studying their form – has indicated that considering the various lengths and widths as well as their smoothened ends, they could have been used as flutes or whistles. There is no a clear-cut distinction between flutes and whistles. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Brown flute-like tube with etchings on it." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=283&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=283&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=283&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=355&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=355&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354112/original/file-20200821-22-deggds.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=355&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Bone tube from Matjie’s River.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Joshua Kumbani</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>If they were used as flutes they were single tone flutes since none has finger holes that can enable the production of more tones. Some of the archaeological bone tubes bear chevron and cross hatching patterns, but it is not clear if the decorations have a meaning or were just made for aesthetic purposes. The <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/San">San</a> and Khoe people in South Africa used reed flutes in the past. Flutes are still used today by various cultural groups in South Africa, for example the Venda people in South Africa use flutes when performing the <em><a href="http://era.anthropology.ac.uk/Era_Resources/Era/VendaGirls/Definitions/DefTshikona.html">tshikona</a></em> dance. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Round, brown acorn-like object with a hole in one end." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=591&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=591&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=591&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=742&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=742&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354114/original/file-20200821-16-d4z2eq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=742&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Clay whistle from Mapungubwe.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Joshua Kumbani</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Clay whistles have been recovered from the sites of K2 and Mapungubwe from Early Iron Age contexts. Similar clay whistles are very rare and are not mentioned ethnographically, but it has been said that the Basotho herders in Lesotho used similar whistles. Whistles can also be used during a musical procession or as signalling implements in sending a message.</p>
<p>An ivory trumpet was recovered from Sofala site in Mozambique. It has a blow hole and some decorations on its body. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Intricately carved brown object." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=220&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=220&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=220&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=276&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=276&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354115/original/file-20200821-16-17c8x51.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=276&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ivory trumpet from Sofala site in Mozambique.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">University of Pretoria Museums</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Ivory trumpets are not common in southern Africa, but are known in west Africa. For example, in Ghana among the Asante people they had a spiritual significance and were associated with the royal court. Ivory trumpets are also said to have been used to announce the arrival of kings. The trumpets that are found in southern Africa are not in ivory. </p>
<h2>Idiophones</h2>
<p>Thumb piano, lamellophone or mbira keys have been recovered from the Later Iron Age contexts in Zimbabwe and in Zambia. This idiophone became popular with the introduction of iron technology and it is still used today. Some popular musicians play the lamellophone, for example <a href="https://www.stellachiweshe.com">Stella Chiweshe</a> from Zimbabwe. Mbira is closely associated with spirituality, especially among the Shona people of Zimbabwe. The lamellophone is now a common musical instrument globally.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A small, brown, rusty metal object in the shape of an oar." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=236&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=236&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=236&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=297&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=297&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/354117/original/file-20200821-22-ereyve.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=297&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Thumb piano key from Great Zimbabwe site.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Foreman Bandama</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Musical bells were found in South Africa, Zimbabwe and Zambia from Later Iron Age contexts. Both double and single bells existed and, for example, at Great Zimbabwe both were recovered. Ethnographically, musical bells are known to have originated in West and Central Africa and they were most likely introduced to southern Africa through trade. These idiophones are said to have been played to announce the arrival of kings. Musical bells are still used today.</p>
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<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-our-african-ancestors-made-sound-in-the-stone-age-121142">How our African ancestors made sound in the Stone Age</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Musical instruments are seldom found in the archaeological record and are not easily identifiable, so there is a lot of debate among researchers when it comes to identifying these instruments from the archaeological record. Some instruments may not have been musical instruments per se but rather sound-producing implements that were used to convey certain messages or used for ritual purposes.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/143809/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Joshua Kumbani is a PhD candidate at the University of the Witwatersrand and is a bursary recipient of the Re-Centring AfroAsia Project: Musical and Human Migrations in the Pre-Colonial Period 700-1500 AD that is funded by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation. </span></em></p>There is not much information on artefacts used by Stone Age humans to make sound and music – but the first comprehensive survey is a good start.Joshua Kumbani, PhD Candidate, University of the WitwatersrandLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1345192020-03-31T12:28:09Z2020-03-31T12:28:09ZSteve Martin’s banjo and other music played from coronavirus isolation show how the arts connect us<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/323706/original/file-20200327-146695-l1zwy1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=22%2C17%2C1882%2C1060&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Two Steve Martin banjo video tweets have been viewed more than 10 million times since March 21, 2020. Here, stills from the 'Banjo Calm' video. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(@SteveMartinToGo/Twitter)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Many musicians are reaching out from isolation on balconies, in condos or the outdoors during the COVID-19 pandemic. </p>
<p>Italian tenor <a href="https://nypost.com/2020/03/16/italian-tenor-maurizio-marchini-serenades-coronavirus-stricken-florence-from-his-balcony/">Maurizio Marchini sings “Nessun dorma” from his balcony</a> while the <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/video/2020/mar/23/spanish-police-sing-to-families-in-lockdown-in-mallorca-video">police in Mallorca, Spain</a> play music, dance and sing in the streets and people watch from balconies. Many people are posting #songsofcomfort. </p>
<p>American actor, comedian and musician <a href="https://twitter.com/SteveMartinToGo/status/1241408095579856896">Steve Martin’s March 21 viral Banjo Balm tweet</a> (at the time of this writing, about 9.8 million views) followed by March 27 “<a href="https://twitter.com/SteveMartinToGo/status/1243329747125297152?s=20">Banjo Calm</a>” (one million views) are two videos that bear witness to the ways we rely on the arts within social media to build connections and create community in times of isolation.</p>
<p><a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/article/633495">Music educators</a>, <a href="https://www.oxfordhandbooks.com/view/10.1093/oxfordhb/9780190219505.001.0001/oxfordhb-9780190219505-e-20">community music facilitators</a> and <a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/article/675805">ethnomusicologists</a> value the power of music to build community. These three fields coincide when they examine the notion of music for all that transforms societies and people.
They identify humans’ basic drive towards “<a href="https://uwapress.uw.edu/book/9780295974798/homo-aestheticus/">making things special</a>,” as explained by Ellen Dissanayake, an affiliate professor of music education at University of Washington School of Music.</p>
<p>Our <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Excursions-in-World-Music-Seventh-Edition-7th-Edition/Nettl-Rommen/p/book/9781138666443">communities make the music we need</a> when we need to do so. We mark significant events, both traumatic and joyful, with the arts. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1241408095579856896"}"></div></p>
<h2>Banjo Balm</h2>
<p>For years, Martin’s comedy hijinks included <a href="https://youtu.be/UaGBIfUoB78">his banjo</a>; the public increasingly <a href="https://www.latimes.com/entertainment/music/la-et-ms-steve-martin-steep-canyon-rangers-long-awaited-album-20170919-story.html">became aware of how talented he is as a musician</a>.</p>
<p>Martin’s album <a href="https://youtu.be/CbA9JHkkaAk"><em>The Crow: New Songs For The Five-String Banjo</em></a> won best Bluegrass Album at the 2009 Grammy awards; he also received awards for <a href="https://www.grammy.com/grammys/artists/steve-martin">2001 Best Country Instrumental Performance and the 2013 Best American Roots Song</a>. He is now as <a href="https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-country/steve-martin-to-receive-prestigious-bluegrass-award-45946/">respected as a musician</a> as he is as <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/stage/2020/mar/10/steve-martin-and-martin-short-review-a-delightfully-daft-double-act">a comedian and actor</a>.</p>
<p>Martin’s stand-up comedy and early film roles were zany. His movie characters gradually transitioned into ones who were a little odd but wise. This shift in his acting roles parallels his rise as a prominent figure in roots and bluegrass music.</p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers: NPR Music Tiny Desk Concert.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Space and place influence music</h2>
<p>Musician David Byrne describes ways space and place have always <a href="https://www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/a-mcsweeneys-books-preview-of-david-byrnes-how-music-works">influenced music</a>. From operatic stages and philharmonic concert halls to punk rock concerts at CBGB in New York, composers and musicians write and play for spatial and acoustic qualities of specific venues. What works in an outside amphitheatre may well fail at Carnegie Hall. </p>
<p>Martin presents us a talented musician who becomes our beloved great uncle in the “Banjo Balm” viral clip. We see him alone, as many of us are — or at least feel — in social isolation, but he does not appear lonely. He stands outdoors, relaxed, just as many of us wish we could be today. </p>
<p>He smiles <a href="https://banjo.stevemartin.com/mission-statement/">gently at us with compassion</a>. Thus, Martin transforms his outdoor space into an intimate venue that millions share in mostly indoor settings. We feel he’s come to visit us at home and we’ve welcomed our buddy inside. We are all family in this context, isolating apart together.</p>
<h2>Banjo ‘ill-suited’ for conveying sadness</h2>
<p>Michael Schutz, associate professor of music cognition/percussion at McMaster University, explores composers’ cues for musical emotion and concludes that “the challenges in producing low pitched, slow moving melodies” on the banjo make the instrument “<a href="https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpsyg.2017.01402/full">ill-suited for conveying sadness</a>.”
Martin himself has made <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UaGBIfUoB78&feature=youtu.be">the same point in his stand-up comedy</a>.</p>
<p>Martin’s “Banjo Balm” overcomes this tendency with rich, warm tone and a slow tempo. The major sounding melody descends with each phrase, suggesting repose, up until the final coda where it leaps and ascends, offering us some optimism. We tend to hear music in a major keys as happy or light, while minor keys tend to suggest sadness or darkness. This music calms us; we feel lifted from melancholy. </p>
<p>However <a href="https://libres.uncg.edu/ir/asu/listing.aspx?styp=ti&id=24421">the high lonesome</a> sound <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vl2-At1NBfA">associated with bluegrass music</a> returns in “Banjo Calm.” It begins in a minor mode, a darker but still warm tone, and slowish tempo. At 50 seconds in, Martin fills in the spaces between the warm, slow and melodic notes with traditional <a href="https://youtu.be/sovTfNH4Lag">clawhammer</a> — fast, high pitch fill — that identifies the cheerfulness of bluegrass, even in sad songs. </p>
<p>Martin developed “Banjo Calm” into a more finished, more professional, more bluegrass piece. Personally, we feel more calm after “Banjo Balm.” </p>
<h2>Music for community</h2>
<p>Martin’s ever-changing social and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5DBEYiBkgp8">cultural capital</a> provides traction for both video tweets. His musicality and star power alone made “Banjo Balm” viral, however, this social media phenomenon occurs with so much music in so many places around the world. </p>
<p>Canadian fiddler Ashley MacIsaac says musicians make music because “<a href="https://www.cbc.ca/listen/live-radio/1-45-ontario-today/clip/15768012-musician-ashley-macisaac-keeping-the-arts-alive-and-still-paying-the-bills">we have no choice — that’s just what we are, we’re artists</a>.” Through these <a href="https://www.oxfordhandbooks.com/view/10.1093/oxfordhb/9780190219505.001.0001/oxfordhb-9780190219505-e-34?rskey=L42fQO&result=4">YouTube and Twitter</a> experiences, both professional and amateur musicians-in-isolation engage community expression and audiences appreciate their demonstration of solidarity. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1244046032205492226"}"></div></p>
<p>This phenomenon transcends individual performances in any one genre, and functions as community building, or at least community expressions of human spirit. We see <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/music/watch-members-of-the-toronto-symphony-orchestra-come-together-for-virtual-performance-1.5506515">professionals performing</a>, community singalongs and Canadian rockers <a href="https://twitter.com/alancross/status/1240600186638028800">Arkells offering free, online music lessons</a>. Then, there are <a href="https://www.billboard.com/articles/columns/pop/9335531/coronavirus-quarantine-music-events-online-streams">countless artists performing online from their homes</a>.</p>
<p>Amateurs too are performing for their communities, including <a href="https://abcnews.go.com/US/doctors-story-viral-rendition-john-lennons-imagine-music/story?id=69776258">doctors at the Mayo Clinic</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/103245001322523/posts/105169827796707/">children</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/lisa_silva82/status/1241512792558989313">grandmothers</a>.</p>
<p>Let’s all join in this community apart together!</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/134519/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Through social media experiences, both professional and amateur musicians-in-isolation offer community expressions of human spirit, and audiences appreciate their gifts.Roberta Lamb, Professor emeritus, School of Music and Faculty of Education, Queen's University, OntarioRobbie MacKay, Lecturer in Musicology, Dan School of Drama & Music, Queen's University, OntarioLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1207942019-07-24T07:43:45Z2019-07-24T07:43:45ZJohnny Clegg: South Africa’s universal man of uncommon passion<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/285134/original/file-20190722-11333-1hl2wkk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C1704%2C1312&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Johnny Clegg in action, telling stories and making music.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/pp_dc/15745203769/in/photolist-cwTFcS-pZmhwv-i8aM11-cwTGAY-cwUB4d-cwUAhj-8m6s3g-cwUGbw-cwUqJ1-cwUpYC-cwUtMs-cwUHGA-cwUBLh-cwUv2d-cwUzJU-cwUDNC-8m6tyK-i7Usik-cwUbow-8m6u7z-P9gbVL-i7GDov-8m9CRY-cwUbUA-8m9CjL-i8eMma-8m9Dos-PmQAqX-8m9E5C-8m6reB-PmQf4e-4jxn6-8m9C4J-8m6t3c-MTiGXw-MTiGmb-NafoSq-4jxnz-8cMRzZ-R6Mpqq-QrworH-Rur9aD-Rur3vH-2gADnp2-2gAuRXU-2gAaTF1-2gehFJd-qevtyq-pk2SY6-pWxU5j">Dominique Cardinal/Flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/">CC BY-NC-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Universal Man: Jonathan Clegg “Sikeyi” (1953-2019). “Sikeyi” is a Zulu dance <a href="https://www.dukeupress.edu/Assets/PubMaterials/978-0-8223-6265-4_601.pdf">praise name</a>: “The peg through a yoke that secures oxen in position, from Afrikaans juskei (juk: yoke], referring to the capacity of a formidable dancer to hold his stand.” </p>
<p>In my mind, like a Zulu ngoma (drum) dancer completing his turn, I somersault backwards landing on my back, exhausted and helpless. Abstractly I had known the odds, and that this dark day could not be delayed. But, as I could not imagine the world as a place that didn’t have Johnny in it, the shock was still like an unpulled punch; disorienting. This super-human energy, this great soul: forever flown away, leaving a huge, unfillable hole in the universe. I cried; for myself.</p>
<p>Since his passing on 16 July, the tributes from journalists – snappy, thoughtful, reflective, celebratory – have poured onto the pages of news outlets. I have read as many as I could access, and wonder what remains for me to say. </p>
<p>In addition, I don’t like obituaries. Like funerals, they stand as a kind of forerunner for one’s own, though I have written a few, for people I hadn’t known so personally and for so long, which was easier. </p>
<p>Yet mournful as it is, I have a duty.</p>
<p>I met Jonathan Clegg in 1975. I was still a graduate student in ethnomusicology at Indiana University and was on my first visit to South Africa as a researcher for a documentary on “township music”.</p>
<p>Like me, Johnny was a devotee of African music and dance and a senior student in anthropology. There, unlike in the music department at the University of the Witwatersrand (Wits), interest and research in African culture were entertained, indeed central. Always in need of, and open to kindred spirits, Johnny spoke to me for hours about his passion for isiZulu, the true north of his life’s compass since he was 15. </p>
<p>Over the rest of his life I met up and “grazed” with Johnny. Backstage after concerts, at his home, anywhere we crossed paths, including in Africa, America and Europe during my enforced “exile”. In the early 1990s I returned as a professor at Cape Town and Wits. I attended his concerts in Johannesburg as faithfully as a lifelong follower of a prophet. For a prophet he was, even if the ideal future he prophesied has not yet come to pass.</p>
<h2>The intellectual and the teacher</h2>
<p>Jonathan Clegg was a man of many parts, and the intellectual and pedagogical parts are what I wish to touch on. </p>
<p>As Johnny was taught by Zulu migrant musicians, so did he more deeply explore and enhance his learning in enveloping his students, who were not only those whom he lectured in class, but performed for in concert. </p>
<p>Johnny was not a teacher; he was an experience, even for his mentors such as bandmate Sipho Mchunu. </p>
<p>We have the record of this in the many televised and published interviews and presentations he delivered, including his acceptance address when awarded an honorary doctorate in music in 2013 at the University of KwaZulu Natal. The address was a complex analysis of indigenous isiZulu aesthetics, as when explaining how modernising migrants used</p>
<blockquote>
<p>western instruments and values to modify and bring the traditional tribal world view into line with the forces of social change. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Or his own methods of composition in performance: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>It is this underlying idea of crossing boundaries and mixing competing approaches that forms the background, influence, and the crossing over of musical forms in most of the music I have composed. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Interviews ranged beyond performance studies to rural Zulu semiotics, social organisation and conflict, responses to colonial conquest and apartheid hegemony, the effects of the migrant labour system on Zulu people, and the very character and condition of the nation.</p>
<p>In the field of political economy, he was a student of the martyred anti-apartheid activist <a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/people/david-joseph-webster">Professor David Webster</a>. With uncommon passion and analytical brilliance, he passed on to his own students at Wits how the “infernal machine” of racial capitalism operated on African workers over the decades of violent legalised compulsion. That is, when he wasn’t singing and dancing and exploring the sometimes heroic, sometimes tragic imperatives and paradoxes of Zulu migrant masculinities. </p>
<p>It was in this period, the late 1970s and early 1980s, that he wrote a series of detailed ethnographic studies, in particular for the conferences on ethnomusicology organised at the International Library of African Music at Rhodes University, on the aesthetics and practice of rural Zulu music and dance.</p>
<p>After giving up the lecture theatre for the theatre of global musical stardom, he continued his teaching career from the stage, interspersing songs with five-minute mini-lectures on <em>les choses chez les Zulus</em> and the peculiarities of African life in South Africa in general. </p>
<p>I’ve never known of a performer in his prime, not one merely famous long ago, who could get away with so much talking and retain the rapt, wide-eyed attention of his audiences. Who returned, show after show, tour after tour. </p>
<p>I would dearly wish to illustrate the evocative, musical-literary depth and meaning of his song lyrics, but copyright and its holders forbid. These are in any case evident in his best-known compositions, Impi (1981), Scatterlings of Africa (1982), and Asimbonanga (1986). While keeping it magnificently simple, he rivalled the songsmithing abilities of Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, John Lennon, and other luminaries of popular musical poetics of his era.</p>
<p>Nor was this even all: his conceptualisation and articulate hosting of <a href="https://wits.worldcat.org/title/country-imagined/oclc/700012535">the documentary series</a> A Country Imagined (Curious Pictures 2010), a travelogue of the byways of the South African landscape of creative cultural history, produced a now neglected landmark in national television.</p>
<p>It is embarrassing to confront the oeuvre of a man who so far surpassed my own contribution to African performance studies as a Professor at two of our distinguished universities. The only responses available to me are egocentric disparagement or love. Like Johnny then, let me make it love.</p>
<p><em>This article was updated to correct year in which particular songs were released.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/120794/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>David Coplan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Johnny Clegg was a prophet, even if the ideal future he prophesied has not yet come to pass.David Coplan, Professor Emeritus, Social Anthropology, University of the WitwatersrandLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/362062015-01-29T04:02:50Z2015-01-29T04:02:50ZSounding the Global Jukebox: we owe Alan Lomax a debt of thanks<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/70067/original/image-20150126-24552-1xzjpb2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The real value of Lomax's work is only now becoming clear.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Wikimedia Commons</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>If Alan Lomax were still alive, he would turn 100 Saturday. His name might not be as familiar as some other giants of folk music in the 20th century (such as <a href="https://theconversation.com/pete-seeger-a-life-of-song-and-the-power-of-we-22595">Pete Seeger</a>). But if you listen to folk or world music, use internet music streaming services, or just enjoy music from cultural traditions other than your own, you might owe Lomax a small debt of thanks. </p>
<h2>A remarkable career</h2>
<p>For around seven decades, from the 1930s through the 1990s, Lomax devoted his activities as a folklorist, musicologist, writer, producer and activist to promoting the understanding and appreciation of folk music. </p>
<p>Born in Austin, Texas, his career began as a teenager, when he worked alongside his folklorist father. When Lomax died in 2002 at age 87, the world lost one of its most tireless advocates for folk music. </p>
<p>Today Lomax is best known for his extensive audio and audiovisual recordings, many of them now <a href="http://research.culturalequity.org/audio-guide.jsp">publicly available</a>. He is renowned for bringing fame to artists like Muddy Waters, Woody Guthrie, and Leadbelly. </p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Alan Lomax and his father John Lomax first recorded Leadbelly for the Library of Congress in the 1930s, while Leadbelly was imprisoned.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But Lomax’s work extended well beyond his recording and documentation activities. Three other important contributions he made during his remarkable life, all with ongoing significance, are Cantometrics, the Global Jukebox, and his advocacy for cultural equity. </p>
<h2>Cantometrics</h2>
<p>Lomax and his colleagues developed their <a href="http://research.culturalequity.org/psr-canto.jsp">Cantometrics project</a> in the 1960s. Using a complex scheme to attempt to classify music genres across the world, the project was nothing if not ambitious. Lomax hoped it would enable the creation of a global map of musics. </p>
<p>Since then, music researchers have largely discredited Cantometrics due to methodological and other concerns. Yet the project remains significant for questioning what we might learn about cultures, geographically and historically, by looking at patterns of musical styles. </p>
<p>Recently, <a href="http://www.compmus.org/index.php">some music researchers</a> have called for a return to Lomax’s comparative methods. They argue we still have much to learn about music classification and mapping, the global spread of music styles, and the cultural and biological evolution of music. Lomax’s work provides a firm foundation for such research.</p>
<h2>Global jukebox</h2>
<p>Lomax devoted the last years of his life to a project even more ambitious than Cantometrics. This was the <a href="http://forum.930.com/index.php?topic=4759.0;imode">Global Jukebox</a>, an interactive multimedia music database containing several thousand songs from around 400 cultures.</p>
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<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Bx_hUrevOdw?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Early demonstration video for The Global Jukebox (1998)</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>An updated and internet-compatible version of the Jukebox – the marvellously intriguing <a href="http://culturalequity.org/dev/gjb-tree.html">Global Jukebox Song Tree</a> – is freely available online, still in beta mode.</p>
<p>The Global Jukebox was prescient. Similar music codification and classification systems are now being used by web-based music recommendation services such as Spotify and Pandora. In fact, Pandora’s vast <a href="http://www.pandora.com/about/mgp">Music Genome Project</a> was partly modelled on Lomax’s methods and vision.</p>
<h2>Cultural equity</h2>
<p>Spanning the Cantometrics and Jukebox projects, and indeed much of his life work, was Lomax’s passion for “cultural equity”. He felt all cultures had a right to representation in the media and in education, and that no culture was inherently more worthy of attention than any other. </p>
<p>Lomax was troubled by the mass cultural “grey-out” he realised was occurring. In the early 1970s, decades before <a href="http://www.unesco.org/culture/ich/en/convention">UNESCO’s 2003 Convention</a> on the Urgent Safeguarding of Intangible Cultural Heritage, he summoned music researchers to action, <a href="http://www.culturalequity.org/ace/ce_ace_appeal.php">writing</a>: “We are impelled to a defense of the musics of the world”.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/69974/original/image-20150126-24525-16k2cww.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/69974/original/image-20150126-24525-16k2cww.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/69974/original/image-20150126-24525-16k2cww.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/69974/original/image-20150126-24525-16k2cww.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/69974/original/image-20150126-24525-16k2cww.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/69974/original/image-20150126-24525-16k2cww.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/69974/original/image-20150126-24525-16k2cww.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">People of the Kuikuro Indigenous ethic group (Brazil) playing Taquara Flutes.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Flickr / Wilfred Paulse</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Over 40 years later, ethnomusicologists are heeding this call in earnest. <a href="http://www.soundfutures.org">Sustainable Futures for Music Cultures</a> and other research and advocacy projects are now building on Lomax’s intellectual legacy to protect and promote more “vulnerable” music genres and cultures. </p>
<h2>The legacy</h2>
<p>The real value of Lomax’s work is perhaps only now becoming clear, more than a decade after his death. His tireless efforts to promote musical diversity and cultural equity continue in the <a href="http://research.culturalequity.org/psr-canto.jsp">Association for Cultural Equity</a>, which he founded.</p>
<p>Music researchers continue to <a href="http://www.aawmjournal.com/articles/2014b/Clarke_AAWM_Vol_3_2.pdf">hotly debate</a> the controversial Cantometrics project of the 1960s. Those who disagree with its detail, though, cannot fail to admire its ambition and humanistic vision. </p>
<p>As cultural organisations across the world <a href="http://en.unesco.org/themes/culture-sustainable-development">campaign for culture to be included</a> as a pillar of sustainable development in the UN Sustainable Development Agenda, and as we renew a collective commitment to a “<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-brisbane-declaration-a-blueprint-for-the-musical-world-30210">sustainable, thriving and diverse musical life on our planet</a>”, the spirit of Lomax is never far away.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/36206/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Catherine Grant does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>If Alan Lomax were still alive, he would turn 100 Saturday. His name might not be as familiar as some other giants of folk music in the 20th century (such as Pete Seeger). But if you listen to folk or…Catherine Grant, Joy Ingall Postdoctoral Research Fellow in Music, University of NewcastleLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/330052014-10-27T09:19:52Z2014-10-27T09:19:52ZStand by your Maine: country music’s Northern roots<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62669/original/dyfxfd97-1414093046.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Country music's soaring popularity in the Northeast isn't so much a novelty as it is a rebirth</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:US_Navy_110908-N-DG679-040_Country_music_star_Brad_Paisley_performs_to_more_than_11,000_members_of_the_Naval_Station_Mayport_community.jpg">US Navy </a></span></figcaption></figure><p>This past June, radio conglomerate Clear Channel (now known as iHeartRadio) announced it was converting Boston’s 101.7 FM to a country station. The story they told the Boston Globe <a href="http://www.bostonglobe.com/metro/2014/06/13/clear-channel-converts-radio-station-country-music-format/mvci3RtzOXJtNHdS4mOfvJ/story.html">was a familiar one</a>: country had gone mainstream, and people in greater Boston were clamoring for it. The once-vaunted home to Boston’s alternative rock station WFNX is now WBLW – “The Bull” – playing the hits of Jason Aldean, Carrie Underwood, and Blake Shelton. </p>
<p>For corporate radio, expansion into new territory is sold to the public as a populist triumph. Yet this so-called triumph in Boston signifies a deep affront to America’s <a href="http://www.culturalequity.org/ace/ce_ace_about_ce.php">cultural equity</a> by displacing yet another region’s distinct traditions with national pop culture. In fact, country music has been found in multicultural milltowns, industrial cities and rural outposts in every corner of North America for a century now, and its once healthy regional variations – which included New England, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Real-Country-Language-Working-Class-Culture/dp/0822333481/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1414087465&sr=1-1&keywords=real+country">Texas</a>, the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Polkabilly-Ramblers-Redefined-American-Musicspheres/dp/B008SLMXEO">Upper Midwest</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mCSEUWGcr2s">Canada</a>, <a href="http://vimeo.com/4090048">Maryland</a>, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Traditional-Music-Coastal-Louisiana-Recordings/dp/0807152013">Louisiana</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ziFI_0Fx5ts">California</a> – are now threatened.</p>
<p>To the casual observer, country music seems out of place in New England. iHeartRadio exploits this perception, presenting country as something new – even exotic – in a northern metropolis like Boston. </p>
<p>Yet it was only 60 years ago that New England was home to a robust country music culture all its own – not only in small-town Grange Halls, but also in high-brow urban locales like Boston’s Symphony Hall, where the weekly “Hayloft Jamboree” showcased live performances of New England country talent every weekend. The music was instantly recognizable as country, even though many of the singers’ accents indicated ethnic heritages – Italian, Polish, Armenian, Quebecois, Greek – not typically associated with they mythical Anglo-Saxon mountain origins of country music. </p>
<p>And it was only 50 years ago that New England’s biggest regional star – the eyepatch-wearing <a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/6/6b/Dick_Curless_promo_photo.jpg">Dick Curless</a> of Bangor, Maine – rode the Maine potato truck-driving anthem <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4aFzfDv2hz0">A Tombstone Every Mile</a> to national fame, in part through substantial airplay on mainstream independent radio in Boston.</p>
<p>From the 1920s through the 1950s, most of the music heard on the radio in New England was performed live, by local musicians, seven days a week. Even then, many of those musical broadcasts featured New Englanders performing country music – either of the ballad variety or of the “Western” sort, complete with yodeling. Stations in Boston (WBZ) and Hartford (WTIC) had powerful signals that reached deep into the South, the Midwest, and Canada, and both were home to regional country music stars like <a href="http://www.massfolkarts.org/object_detail.asp?objectid=8220144">Georgia Mae</a> and the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0wxFDHOm63A">Down Homers</a>. Smaller stations in Providence, Bangor, Springfield, Portsmouth, and Portland launched the careers of singers like <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-11NOQlV8vI&list=PL482BDE8C49BBBA51">Lone Pine</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjEjJDBN1-M">Betty Cody</a>, and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O8yZ-fGNmZ4">Jerry and Sky</a>. Country music broadcasts generated live performances in towns and cities throughout the region, and musicians earned a full-time living – far better than the alternative at the local shoe mill – playing live music.</p>
<p>So what happened? If this music was so prevalent in working-class New England, where did it go, and why?</p>
<p>I spent several years documenting <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Yankee-Twang-Country-Western-American/dp/0252038673">New England’s country music history and traditions</a> in order to understand this reversal of fortune. In short, the arrival of television compromised the profit margins of radio, replacing live musicians with disc jockeys. Meanwhile, the country music industry consolidated in Nashville, where country format radio was born. </p>
<p>When the Country Music Association formed in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Starday-Story-House-Country-American/dp/1617037400/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1414087728&sr=1-1&keywords=starday+story">1958</a> (an effort by a reeling industry to respond to the popularity of rock'n'roll), Nashville marketing agents streamlined country’s image, eliminating “western” music from the airwaves (and changing the genre’s name from “country and western” to “country” in the process), while packaging and promoting country as strictly rural, southern, and white. Suddenly, once-popular local tunes sung with regional accents were replaced by a nationally oriented sound sung with a Southern drawl – regardless of what corner of the continent the singer hailed from. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62559/original/w2x9kwcc-1414004085.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62559/original/w2x9kwcc-1414004085.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62559/original/w2x9kwcc-1414004085.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62559/original/w2x9kwcc-1414004085.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62559/original/w2x9kwcc-1414004085.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62559/original/w2x9kwcc-1414004085.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62559/original/w2x9kwcc-1414004085.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62559/original/w2x9kwcc-1414004085.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">In the 1950s, Nashville’s burgeoning record industry began promoting the brand of country music that most listeners now associate with the genre.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.shutterstock.com/pic-208624852/stock-photo-nashville-august-neon-signs-on-lower-broadway-area-on-august-in-nashville-tennessee.html?src=pd-same_artist-208593025-6SjtX1vr-pJk6PeBfEuTHg-6">Neon Lights via www.shutterstock.com</a></span>
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<p>We, as a nation, have adapted to this image of the genre. But it is false. Country music is not Southern music – at least not exclusively. Country music is working-class music, and its regional variations have been muffled by the stranglehold that the heavily centralized music industry has on the content of our regional broadcasts. </p>
<p>This is a tragedy – not so much because something once beautiful has been lost (though it is that), but because it represents a larger problem: wherever we come from, it is very difficult to hear ourselves reflected in major media broadcasts. This extends beyond country music – or any music, at that – and into virtually every cultural sphere of regional American life. It wasn’t always this way, and there is still a generation of Americans who can recall a time in which the content of radio broadcasts struck a balance between the interests and styles of both the region and the nation. </p>
<p>What offends many of the New England country musicians I have interviewed over the years isn’t so much the stylistic shift (from the boom-chikka-boom-chikka-boom style of yore, to the “Lynyrd Skynyrd with a pedal steel” sounds of modern country). Rather, it’s the movement away from “the people,” whether it’s at concerts where country musicians no longer take requests, or on radio stations where it’s impossible for local musicians to get in the door, let alone on the air. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Yankee-Twang-Country-Western-American/dp/0252038673">Many who have witnessed this change</a> resent the fact that New England working-class values are mined as a resource, manufactured in Nashville, and sold back to locals as a cultural import.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/33005/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Clifford Murphy does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>This past June, radio conglomerate Clear Channel (now known as iHeartRadio) announced it was converting Boston’s 101.7 FM to a country station. The story they told the Boston Globe was a familiar one…Clifford Murphy, Adjunct Professor of American Studies, University of Maryland, Baltimore CountyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/222462014-01-22T03:46:27Z2014-01-22T03:46:27ZLao Qiang at the Sydney Festival: ancient entertainment for the 21st century<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/39527/original/bzzxfy6x-1390280546.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The Zhang Family Band will perform at the Sydney Festival this week.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Zhang Fuqiang/Sydney Festival</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>We’ve all heard — or heard of — Mongolian throat singing and Peking Opera. But a new Chinese musical tradition is beginning to reverberate around the world – and will be <a href="http://www.sydneyfestival.org.au/2014/All-Events/Lao-Qiang/">showcased this week</a> at the Sydney Festival. </p>
<p>New in a manner of speaking. Lao Qiang means “old tune,” and it originated some 2,000 years ago in the town of Hua Yin, a fishing and farming village near the Yellow River in Shaanxi Province. </p>
<p>To this day, Hua Yin remains a focal point of Lao Qiang performance for weddings, birthdays, and other communal festivities. Celebrating the epic legends of the Three Kingdoms, the mystical creation of Hua Mountain, and the misadventures of local farmers, this is one of the oldest surviving folkloric traditions in the world.</p>
<p>But what does it mean for an ancient tradition to “survive”? </p>
<p>And how can such an old tradition maintain some semblance of authenticity while on display in premier auditoriums around China, France, Germany, the US (Carnegie Hall no less) – and now the Sydney Festival? </p>
<p>These were the questions on my mind when I called New York to speak with ethnomusicologist Joanna Lee, who was instrumental in bringing the show to Sydney. </p>
<p>“Lao Qiang is no longer sung to keep time while pulling ropes to haul boats onto the shore,” she told me, “but it is still very much alive as community practice in and around Hua Yin.” Its longevity earned Lao Qiang a place in China’s coveted register of Intangible Cultural Heritage in 2006.</p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/39530/original/g2w78ymd-1390280627.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/39530/original/g2w78ymd-1390280627.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/39530/original/g2w78ymd-1390280627.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/39530/original/g2w78ymd-1390280627.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/39530/original/g2w78ymd-1390280627.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/39530/original/g2w78ymd-1390280627.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/39530/original/g2w78ymd-1390280627.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Zhang Fuqiang/Sydney Festival</span></span>
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<p>To maintain Lao Qiang’s faithfulness to traditional meaning, Lee has given its Sydney performance a dimension absent from previous enactments. She has painstakingly translated and programmed the words of each song into an LED display that scrolls across the stage, enabling the audience to follow its ancient stories and lessons. </p>
<p>Translation was no simple task, she says, because the phrases are rich with double entendre and hidden meaning. People are represented as cows and sheep, pagan gods are cloaked in nature metaphors, and, “when men and women ‘become one,’ well, I thought it best to just to leave the text in its simple beauty.”</p>
<p>Before learning about Lao Qiang, I had come across other world traditions scaled-up from community practice to stage extravaganza. </p>
<p>A year in Senegal showed me how musicians born into the griot caste no longer sing the praises of community leaders and nobles. Instead they pay homage to the politicians, soft-drink brands and cigarette companies that sponsor them. </p>
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<p>In Cuba, spiritual traditions such as Regla de Ocha and Palo Monte were once the sacred preserve of enslaved Africans. Now they are a prime source of content for cabaret shows performed in expensive beachside hotels. </p>
<p>Around the world, commercial “folklorisation” has generated dollars for performers and their employers, in the process drawing practitioners away from the traditions of their ancestors. One wonders how Lao Qiang, described by reviewers as “the rock ‘n’ roll of the East,” compares.</p>
<p>Audiences can expect a family-friendly show whose purpose, says Lee, is to respectfully integrate ancient tradition with the demands of 21st-century entertainment. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/39532/original/8jqn8ctm-1390280659.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/39532/original/8jqn8ctm-1390280659.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/39532/original/8jqn8ctm-1390280659.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/39532/original/8jqn8ctm-1390280659.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/39532/original/8jqn8ctm-1390280659.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/39532/original/8jqn8ctm-1390280659.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/39532/original/8jqn8ctm-1390280659.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Zhang Fuqiang/Sydney Festival</span></span>
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<p>Songs have been redacted to concise two or three minute versions, showcasing the most passionate and moving storylines of the ancient repertoire. Shadow puppets of the fabled Three Heroes offer a visual treat that has been captivating crowds for millennia. Homemade huqin fiddles and yueqin lutes combine with traditional drums, gongs, and a wooden bench in a unique folkloric ensemble. </p>
<p>And the members of the Zhang Family Band, now seasoned international entertainers, enact the ancient battle legends they grew up with on the wheat and cotton fields.</p>
<p>Lao Qiang evokes a lesson I learned as an anthropology graduate student: traditions never stay still. </p>
<p>Those with long lives become progressively codified as “ethnic heritage,” often conserved by cultural centres and performance troupes. The Centre for the Preservation of Lao Qiang, recently established by the Hua Qin government, illustrates the point. </p>
<p>Supported by the Zhang Family Band’s success, the Centre researches Lao Qiang history, documents its defining features, and keeps performances accountable to ancient roots. This synergy of local and global forces will show itself on stage, strengthened by the hidden meanings that Lee has worked into the translation. </p>
<p>Some of the verses may go over our heads, but that’s the beauty of cultural conservation in the global era.</p>
<p><br>
<em>Lao Qiang is playing at the Sydney Festival until January 25. Details <a href="http://www.sydneyfestival.org.au/2014/All-Events/Lao-Qiang/">here</a>.</em>
<br></p>
<p><em>Visit the University of Sydney’s festival hub <a href="http://sydney.edu.au/sydney-festival/">here</a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/22246/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Adrian Hearn receives funding from the Australian Research Council (Future Fellowship scheme)</span></em></p>We’ve all heard — or heard of — Mongolian throat singing and Peking Opera. But a new Chinese musical tradition is beginning to reverberate around the world – and will be showcased this week at the Sydney…Adrian Hearn, Convenor, International Relations Group, the University of Sydney China Studies Centre, University of SydneyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.