The discussions and information from this seminar were invaluable. I had gained considerable knowledge of some of these topics from a previous seminar by the US-China Institute, but this time the presenters expanded my understanding of how K-pop, minorities in China, and Buddhism existed (and continue to do so) in different spaces and contexts.
For example, living in Koreatown in Los Angeles, I was naturally exposed to K-pop and thought its popularity was limited to local coffeehouses and other businesses. I had not noticed it as part of a larger pattern of the deliberate dissemination of Korean culture, also known as the Hallyu wave. If I were to teach older students, I would use K-pop to explore about how popular culture is adopted in different countries, as well as ways the genre is similar and different from American pop music. I wonder how I would also help students explore the darker side of K-pop (and pop from many countries, really), like the exploitation of artists and how it upholds intimidating beauty standards.
Prof. Gladney expanded my understanding of Uyghurs’ role in the spread of Buddhism into China, as well as how they fit in Xi Jinping’s economic and political development strategies known as the Belt and Road Initiative. The the treatment of Muslim and other minorities in China should absolutely be discussed with high school students, perhaps alongside study of the Holocaust and other examples of widespread violations of human rights.
The lectures and discussion regarding music in China was fascinating. I just realized one of my aunts, who is now in her 70s, was a participant in the classical music scene in China during a key moment. As a teenager in the late 1950s, she left Hong Kong to study at the Xinghai Conservatory of Music (formerly known as the Guangzhou Conservatory of Music). According to her, she is in a group photo displayed in the lobby. She did not finish her studies there: she passed out from hunger in the girls’ bathroom and chipped a tooth, prompting my grandmother to bring her back to Hong Kong and subsequently send her to Australia instead, where she still ives! I suppose I’d better give her a call to pick her brain about Western classical music in China when she was studying there.
I am grateful that Western classical music has found robust support and practice in China, as it seems every year I read some report from symphonies and orchestras about declining attendance and interest. The superstars China produces seem to galvanize foreign audiences (or at least in the USA) into packing concert halls when they're in town, especially when they're playing popular pieces.
As someone who focused on musicology, with plenty of exposure to performance students, and participated in a healthy dose of ethnomusicology (a problematic term, I know), I wonder what music education looks like at the university level in China? Do music students also study music history alongside performance and technique? To what extent and depth does their curriculum typically include study of music from other cultures? Will they eventually face their own version of Schenker-gate?
I heard an interview on NPR today, with both the author and subject of "The Buddhist on Death Row," published just this past week. It's lovely to read stories of people who turn their lives around, whether it's through religious/spiritual transformation or not. Mr. Masters seems not to have just found comfort in Buddhism, but has been actively using what he learned to better the lives of those around him in meaningful ways. It's going on my list!
Excuse the Hallmark moment. Stories like those of Jasmine Tang, the mariachi singer from China, are important for students to know about. Much progress has been made to break stereotypes, but a lot of forces like family and peer pressure can still make young people feel limited in what they think they can and cannot do. While they didn't try to stop me, my family did question my decision to major in Italian and musicology. They thought I was even more nuts when I joined a Bulgarian choir (15 years later, I still practice Balkan music but with a different ensemble). These boundary crossings led to invaluable opportunities, experiences, and relationships. We are so much richer when we go beyond what is familiar.
Hi Tom. You reminded me of a photobook I have about Beijing's underground music scene, mainly focusing on punk and experimental. They're not quite hip hop, but as you probably know, still similarly steeped in youth and counterculture. According to this book, which was published 11 years ago, one of the catalysts for the growth of the underground in China was "a dissatisfaction with the rise of a rabid, vapid, and often unsustainable consumer culture" and with the government. Sounds familiar, right? Among the musicians photographed are a Kazakh-Chinese man from Xinjiang who incorporates Kazakh instruments and folk songs into his work, and a band from Wuhan that uses bagpipes. Most of these musicians were struggling because state support and censorship worked in favor of inoffensive, conformist pop stars (and probably still do...?), which leads me to wonder if there are Korean underground counterparts suffering the same fate. And, of course, I wonder when and how the seeds of punk were sown in China!
As the second presentation dove into the 20th century, I wondered eagerly whether Ms. Melvin and Prof. Cai would talk about "The Butterfly Lovers." I grew up hearing it in movies and my parents had a recording of it. It's a lovely piece of music, and I think very accessible for being a "classical" piece composed in the mid-20th century when Western composers were experimenting with electronic sounds (John Cage) and tones (Schoenberg). Did "The Butterfly Lovers" ever cross over to become popular in the US? If not, why?
I'm interested in exploring the works of some of the composers referenced and interviewed in the NYT article ("The Sound of New Music is Often Chinese"), and exploring how they incorporate folk music into their modern compositions. Would they be similar to the way Bulgarian composers rearranged and reharmonized folk tunes for state-sponsored choirs in the 50s? Or maybe folk elements are woven in more subtly the way Dvořák did with rhythms, melodies, etc? It'd be interesting to use pieces for listening exercises in music classes, to compare how different elements (timbre, rhythm, haronies, structure, etc.) signal different cultures and explore how we learned to associate them as such.
A few days ago, as I watched "Parasite" for the fourth time, I found myself thinking a lot about one of the questions posed by someone during Session 2, about differences in language between North and South Korea. Prof. Jung-Kim explained that folks in South Korea had adopted a lot of foreign words, especially English, and that it was one of the key differences between what is spoken in the two countries. With this fresh in my mind, I found myself noticing every time an English word was inserted into the dialogue: "belt," "simple," "no plan"... Mrs. Park sprinkles English words and phrases around pretentiously to signal her social status and to impress her children's tutors; members of the Kim family use English words as well, but a bit more casually.
Language is an essential tool for crossing, blurring, establishing, or maintaining boundaries. I wish I understood Korean well enough to discern how Bong Joon Ho and his co-writer used language throughout the film to insert cultural nuances.
Hi Cindy. Thanks for sharing your experience. It's one that I could identify with. My exposure to Korean culture was later, but quite immersive like yours; I lived for 7 years in the heart of Koreatown LA because that's where my then-boyfriend (now-husband) lived. While I never became a fan of K-pop or K-dramas, I happily consumed the local culture by going to restaurants, shopping primarily at the Galleria, going to street festivals, and watching movies at CGV Cinemas. When I talk to family members or certain friends from where I grew up, a lot of their exposure to Korean culture is limited to K-dramas and soondobu or KBBQ. I do think having an innate sense of curiosity leads people to explore more outside of their bubbles, but sometimes circumstances provide opportunities for us to do so instead.
Many thanks to Prof. Gladney for the presentations and Q&A, and to everyone for posing such thoughtful and important questions. I had learned about what was happening in the XUAR a few years ago through (what else?) shares on social media and it really struck a chord. I highly encourage those who haven't yet to check out the recording of the symposium mentioned today; it took place earlier this summer and featured, along with Prof. Gladney, an ethnomusicologist speaking about erasure of culture through music and a boardmember of Uyghur LA sharing her personal experiences. I haven't been able to find it, but I believe Catherine said she'd share the link...?
I already posted this in a previous seminar, but Tomomi Shimizu's online comics, like this one, are an excellent way for students to learn about individuals' experiences in the XUAR; there are many others, each one translated into multiple languages (just keep scrolling down and click what I assume to be Japanese for "next"). Careful: some need to be read right to left! These, and this bigger issue, would complement studies of the Holocaust, Japanese internment/concentration camps, and other atrocities.
Is it excessive to say I truly fear that in very little time, these seminars will include sessions about Hong Kong citizens (and non-citizens!) being disappeared into re-education camps? The bigger contexts are vastly different, but Uyghurs and ethnic Chinese minorities are being arrested and disappeared under pretexts that also apply to HK, namely, national security.
Hi Cristina and Deborah. I was also very curious about the Kaifeng Jews that Professor Gladney mentioned in the first lecture, and shared Deborah's speculation that they ended up in China in part because of the Silk Road... and we were right! I found this fascinating article about a teenager from Hong Kong, with no Jewish ancestry or relation, becoming somewhat of a spokesperson for the community. It answers a lot of our questions (How'd they get there? What happened to them?), and even mentions some ways the group had been able to merge Jewish and Confucian morals and ideals, which helps them with integrating with the mainstream Chinese population.
If I taught older students, I would share an article like this one. It's written in teen-friendly language, and its protagonist is someone in their same age bracket, who is using technology to help a disadvantaged community. It could be quite inspiring!
Hi Tom. I think your idea of having students compare/contrast countries is a great exercise! It's looking at Buddhism on a bigger scale, and would get them to consider how cultural differences don't necessarily get in the way of the religion's establishment in each country.
I hope Professor Meeks knows that her enthusiasm for what she teaches is part of what made this session so engaging!
In the second presentation, she mentioned Chinese pilgrims (e.g., Xuanzang), their travels to India, and their role in translating, categorizing, and organizing Buddhist texts to help followers make sense of them. Although I'm a seesaw'ing atheist/agnostic, I've been fascinated by the tradition of pilgrimages ever since learning about the Santiago de Compostela in a music history class. What's appealing to me is traveling slowly, disconnecting with everyday life, and getting to know places and people along the route. It's a way of "being" and an opportunity for self-reflection and self-discovery. There is also a deep tradition of hospitality along the route and of exchanges between guests and hosts without capitalistic expectations (much like the trail angels along the Pacific Crest Trail).
Going back to our seminar theme, though: after gaining some background knowledge on ancient cultures and customs, it would be interesting to have students map out one of Xuanzang's routes and apply what they know to discuss what other cultural exchanges he might have had. With G**gleEarth and other online platforms, students can see these places as they look now along with renderings of how they looked then.
This Encyclopedia Britannica article describes his first journey in detail: https://www.britannica.com/biography/Xuanzang
Hi Deborah. THANK YOU for that tidbit about Guanyin. It piqued my interest because I grew up with her, front and center in my family's living room altar, white-robed with a thin vase in one hand and a willow branch in the other. I know her as Kwun Yum because we're Cantonese. My mother would, and still does, tell her legends from memory to anyone who would listen.
The article you linked was very informative, and I found a different one that focuses more on her importance in Hong Kong, where my mom is from, and gives a few more details about her transformation from male to female.
https://zolimacitymag.com/story-of-kwun-yum-mother-goddess/
I think a discussion around gender would be very interesting; it's probably a topic students haven't explored or questioned in the context of religion and the representation of religious figures. Guanyin/Kwun Yum's transformation seems mostly based on her qualities and things she symbolized being considered feminine. I wonder if students could consider figures from religions they are familiar with, make a list of their attributes, and examine whether/how gender has an impact on their perceptions of these figures?
I find it fascinating, the development of six schools of thought, each rooted in Buddhism but with such distinct and deeply entrenched differences. In the spirit of the theme of this course, I wonder how much cross-teaching or influence there was between the schools at the time, aside from the absorption of the Jojitsu School by the Sanron School? Different schools became dominant during parts of the Nara period, and the chapter mentioned dates for a couple of them; did all 6 schools co-exist in Japan at roughly the same time, or did one sort of follow the other throughout the Nara period?
It's been awhile since I was in high school, and I'm not at all well acquainted with the standards, but an engaging activity would be to group students and assign or have them pick a school to research. After comparing and contrasting as a class, perhaps they'd have to visit another class to present their findings and advocate for their schools, to see which one gains the most followers.
It really is amazing how waves of musical imports hit young Americans through the decades, from the British Invasion of the 1960s to Balkan brass especially infecting people in big, coastal cities in the 2000s.
The section of the video about the Korean government's role in disseminating pop culture was fascinating, on top of the tidbits I had read about how these music groups are formed. Culture is one of those sticky things that I struggle with sometimes. Yes, elements of culture are always changing, evolving on their own or due to outside influences. Where is the line drawn, then, when it comes to governments not only wielding culture as a tool to promote tourism, but actively shaping and developing it? The South Korean govt isn't directly funding the musical groups (which are heavily manufactured and groomed for ma$$, global appeal), but they do curate and choose what to highlight and present to the world... so won't this influence artistic choices of those pursuing support? I don't mean to make it sound sinister, and of course, South Korea isn't the only country to have promoted itself in this way; I guess my concern as an amateur folklorist is with accuracy and a certain truthfulness in representing culture.