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Ethnomusicology
This article starts with a brief discussion of Hood's notion of bi-musicality and
considers several reports in the literature of learning to perform as a research
technique. The author's experiences of learning to play dutar and rubab in
Afghanistan during the 1970s are described in some detail. The article con-
cludes with a discussion of the many advantages of learning to perform as part
of the fieldwork enterprise.
The training of ears, eyes, hands and voice and fluency gained in these skills
assure a real comprehension of theoretical studies, which in turn prepares
the way for the professional activities of the performer, the composer, the
musicologist and the music educator.
(Hood 1960:55)
Hood argued that the student of non-Western music should not bypass basic
musicianship in the music culture in question, and specifically mentioned
acquiring the capacity to hear intervals correctly and developing memory span
* This article was originally published in Lux Oriente. Begegnungen der Kulturen in der
Musikforschung, a Festschrift for Robert Giinther edited by Klaus Wolfgang Niemller,
Uwe Patzold and Chung Kyo-chul, and published by Gustav Bosse Verlag in 1995. The
Editors of BJE have decided to reprint this important article without change in order to
ensure its wider dissemination, and they wish to thank Gustav Bosse Verlag for permission
so to do. Only one addition has been made to the references, the notations of naghmahci-ye
kashcal published in Baily (1997).
rhythm one must "join an African band and learn to take one's part". Once
that step is taken one discovers that "the apparent inextricable complexity" of
African rhythms is false. The individual parts are perfectly simple:
John Blacking was another of a long list of students of African music who
extended the idea of learning to perform as a technique of field research. Three
examples come to mind from his Venda fieldwork. First, Blacking learned to
sing children's songs:
(Blacking 1967:28)
I Blacking later modified his ideas about the role of music in inducing spirit possession
along the lines suggested by Gilbert Rouget (1985).
By joining the dance, I was able to experience what the Venda claimed: to
play one's part in the pipe melody correctly whilst moving in harmony with
others in a large crowd of performers and spectators, generates individuality
in community, and so combines self with others in a way that is funda-
mental to the existence of Venda culture and society ... The experience was
often ecstatic: not only did we dance; we were sometimes danced.
(Blacking 1977:38)
Further insights into Blacking's ideas about learning to perform are pro-
vided in a letter he sent me in May 1972. I had written to him about my interest
in ethnomusicology, in Hood's notion of bi-musicality (was the idea "still in
fashion"?), and my proposal to study Persian classical music. He replied:
Far from being out-of-date, learning to perform and play music is a basic
field technique in ethnomusicology. We are still trying to establish it as a
necessary methodological tool, because several field studies are being
carried out without it even today...
However, I am not too happy about your plan to study under "masters of
the tar" [double-chested long-necked lute] in Teheran ... I do not think it at
all necessary for you to learn how to play the instrument superbly (which
would involve intensive study with one or two players, as you suggest),
unless you plan to become a concert artist. But I do think it very necessary
for you to discover how the average tar player learns and transmits his
skills, by spending some time with several different players both in the
cities and rural areas. If I were going to make a special study of Irish
fiddling, I would not first take a course at the Belfast or Dublin academies
of music; I would take lessons with Tommy Gunn and others who have and
follow "folk theories" of music. This would tell me much more about the
cultural realities and deep structures of the music than the sophisticated
teaching of the academies...
I am assuming that you plan to become an ethnomusicologist first, and
a tar player second, third, or fourth. If I am wrong, what I have said will
be irrelevant.
(Baily 1994:5-6)
ments, the dutdr, a term used for several kinds of long-necked pyriform lute, and
the rubab, a short-necked lute. Most of my work was carried out in the city of
Herat, in western Afghanistan, over a two-year period between 1973 and 1977.
I started to learn the three-stringed dutdr when working in Tehran. I paid
a brief visit to Herat, recorded three amateur dutdr players, observed their
performance techniques closely and purchased a dutbar. Back in Tehran I tran-
scribed some of the music and practised playing along with the recordings.
Later I discovered that this was not altogether unlike the traditional way of
learning the dutdr - that is, by imitation, watching someone closely and later
trying to reproduce what has been observed. Most dutatr players claimed to be
self-taught, and were proud of being so. They were reluctant to acknowledge
their betters, saying "Well, if I'm no better than X, then I am no worse than
him either". All of this affirmed their shauqi (amateur) status. One big differ-
ence between us was that, whereas they knew the tunes they learned to play by
hearing them as part of their urban soundscape, I needed the tape recorder to
create an aural score from which I could learn to play.
When I began my fieldwork proper in the autumn of 1973, I started
learning the fourteen-stringed dutdr with one of the leading exponents of the
instrument, Gada Mohammad, originally an amateur who later turned profes-
sional. In retrospect I see that my fieldwork was focused from the start on
performance; my first step was to find a teacher as that was the way in. As I
have said, dutdr players were generally self-taught, though players like Gada
Mohammad undoubtedly learned a great deal later in their playing careers
from the hereditary professional musicians (sdtzandeh) with whom they regu-
larly worked in urban bands (singer with harmonium, tabla, rubdb and dutdr).
Gada had picked up a lot from his band leader, Amir Mohammad, a singer
from Kabul resident in Herat. For example, Amir Mohammad had taught him
to play shakl, the introductory section in free rhythm (cf. taqsim, Bldtp), in a
number of rdgs (melodic modes), and Gada had written these combinations
down using Indian sargam notation. Unlike most professional musicians, he
was fully literate.
Gada used to come regularly to my house. In the early days I paid him.
Later on, when we became good friends, this was no longer appropriate.
Certainly the learning process was under my control. In our first two sessions
I recorded a number of items from his large repertory so that I could choose
pieces I wanted to learn. I then worked alone with Gada's dutdr, which he lent
me while I had my own instrument constructed, trying to work them out. Once
we had two dutdrs we were able to play together - he leading, I following,
phrase by phrase. He had no trouble in repeating particular phrases, a signifi-
cant fact. Sometimes I recorded these lessons. He would also make recordings
of the pieces I was trying to learn, played slowly and simply. Both kinds of
recordings were labelled "Teaching Material" in my fieldnotes and tape cata-
logues. I found my task difficult and frustrating. The fourteen-stringed dutdr is
a large and rather cumbersome instrument, difficult to hold in the proper play-
ing position without tiring. In retrospect, I also see that I was trying to start
with what to outsiders would be the most difficult part of the dutar repertory,
the genre called chahdarbeiti, the melodies for the singing of qua
rhythm, a rhythmic problem like that posed by Iranian ivdz.
The fact that I used a tape recorder to record these demonstrat
unprecedented in Herat, where the radio/cassette machine was
in the early 1970s. For example, Gada had a friend, Abdul G
helped by teaching new pieces. I had the opportunity to obser
session" once. Abdul Ghani, an amateur musician with a job as
civil service, got Gada to play a number of pieces, either suggeste
or volunteered by Gada. When Gada played something he lik
to learn he switched on the tape recorder, and accompanied
zirbaghali (pottery goblet drum). What he was doing was reco
tunes that he wanted to learn by ear from the tape, just as I did.
I continued practising the three-stringed dutdr throughout my
fieldwork and recorded many Herati musicians playing the in
also able to recreate an earlier version of the dutdr, whic
(or nylon) strings and an idiosyncratic system of fretting, giving
certain neutral second intervals (Baily 1976:32). I had to r
distinctive performance technique, particularly for the right han
the bare fingers and thumb rather than a plectrum. This instrum
out of favour in about 1950, to be replaced by the three-strin
with metal strings and played with the metal thimble-plectrum o
tanbur (Baily 1976:60). Familiarity with the three kinds of d
important insights into how performance techniques had cha
successive morphological transformations of the instrument (B
A second instrument I learned to play in Afghanistan was
rubab, a double-chested, short-necked plucked lute with drone an
strings. In 1973 I had an opportunity to start learning the ru
Mohammad Omar, one of the outstanding musicians of mid-twen
Afghanistan. Originally a vocalist, trained in Hindustani mus
deputed to become principal rubab player at Radio Kabul wh
incumbent (Ghurban Ali) retired. I attended his regular class for
cians, which was held during late afternoons in the guest room o
the musicians' quarter (Kucheh Kharabat) of Kabul.
This provided what I later realized was an excellent insight into
Ustad's musical activities. His training of amateurs was very d
experienced by male children brought up in sdazandeh heredi
families. Typically, the class consisted of eight to twelve stud
stages of progress. Ustad Mohammad Omar took each pupil in
listen to what the pupil was working on, comment, and, if ap
another composition. He taught by sargam notation, speakin
the names of the notes. The pupil wrote them down and then
them from the written notation. He also demonstrated pieces
and explained technical problems like right-hand stroke pat
recorders were allowed in Ustad Mohammad Omar's class! Th
was informal but very respectful. Pupils would arrive and depart
while to observe the teaching of the others. In this way, and
2 The term "test recording" signifies a recording made out of context for the purposes of
collecting a performance of a specific item for transcription and analysis. This contrasts with
the "in-context recording", made of a performance which occurs without consideration as to
whether it will be recorded or not by the fieldworker.
3 Further information about these genres can be found in Baily (1988:66-80).
4 I later observed that failure to ask permission of the senior musician present before playing
could lead to long-term disputes and disagreements.
5 In fact, I later learned that this was much more like Rag Multani, with its strong
in the fifth (Pa).
6 The Kabuli usage of this notation differs in small details from the Indian, using t
names Sa Ra Re Ga Ge Ma Me Pe Da De Na Ni.
the note names at their appropriate pitches rather than speak them. In teaching
a composition he would first give me its shakl. He would dictate a phrase, I
would write it down, then play it from the sargam notation. Then on to the next
phrase: he dictated, I notated and then played it. Once the shakl was done we
would move on to the composition, each in several parts. He would dictate the
first part, the astdi, and I would write it down; then he would have me play
through it a number of times while he worked out the next section, singing
quietly to himself. Once he was ready he would have me stop playing and get
me to write down the next section - the first antara, then the second antara,
and so on.
In the case of three of these modes the tonic is a note other than Sa. In
Kausieh and Pdri it is Ma, up a fourth, and in Kesturi it is Pa, up a fifth. I fully
expected Amir Jan to transpose the sargam up a fourth or a fifth. When teach-
ing me the first of these, Kausieh, he tried to do this but found it very confusing
(Baily 1981:12). This implies that he had the layout of note positions on the
rubcib very much in mind in his representation of pitch. This may be because
these are instrumental rather than vocal pieces, but the result is still rather
unexpected.
Through his dictations Amir Jan revealed the underlying models which in
performance become buried beneath a welter of rhythmic patterns. Ethnomusi-
cologists often find themselves trying to abstract such models from specific
performances, but here the underlying model was volunteered by the informant
as part of the musical communication. This also encourages me to try to abstract
underlying models from other recorded performances on tape, knowing that
such models are there and recognized as such in the folk view.
Conclusions
Learning to perform may indeed be "good fun", but we need to show in rat
more detail how and why it is also "good method". The following point
offered for consideration.
7 Gada Mohammad and Amir Jan were not my only two music teachers in Herat
were the principal ones.
ideal method of teaching and the method actually employed. Dutdr players like
Gada readily understood that playing two dutdrs together was a more efficient
and successful method than listening to and watching another player and later
trying to reproduce what had been done. It was just that there were certain
social impediments to learning by that method. So the way he taught me - or
perhaps I should say the way I got him to teach me - though not the usual
method for dutdr players, was quite acceptable. Amir Jan had four musically
gifted sons, also professional musicians; one played rubab, two played tabla,
and the fourth was a singer and harmonium player. Amir Jan complained that
though each had "a good hand" they had "no science". They had not learned
from him in the way he would have liked to have taught them - systematically,
through notation. He explained this was because they were "proud", implying
that they did not want to acknowledge a debt to him. I had various opportuni-
ties to observe his superior knowledge of music theory.
8 I never became his official student in a gorbandi ceremony, with a string of seven colours
tied round the wrist.
4. Participant observation
There can be no doubt that music making provides opportunities fo
participation that is generally denied to anthropologists using the m
of participant observation. It is not so much that "bimusicalit
participation at the expense of observation" (after Myers 1992) but
pation leads to improved opportunities for observation. Being ab
to a reasonable standard provides privileged access to the actual
just discussed. It also gives direct entry into the performance ev
issue for study in ethnomusicology. This advantage is well ill
Veronica Doubleday's experiences as a member of a women's b
(Doubleday 1988). Going out for 24 hours at a time to play
wedding parties provided extraordinary insights into the relationsh
performance and social context, and into the lives of working wom
ally did not become a member of a Herati band on a regular ba
were many occasions when I was required or volunteered to play
gatherings of cognoscenti. Some years later, when making a film a
refugee musicians in Pakistan, this ability to perform Afghan
enormous advantage. It was not so much that I understood the m
former but that being able to play it gave me an immediate and
common experience with people to whom I was a complete stran
all heirs to a common musical tradition. Again, it was a matter of m
tionships forming the basis for social relationships.
References
Baily, John (1976) "Recent changes in the dutar of Herat." Asian Musi
VIII(1):29-64.
-(1977) "Movement patterns in playing the Herati dutar." In John Blacking
(ed.), The anthropology of the body, pp. 275-330. Academic Press, London.
(1981) "A system of modes used in the urban music of Afghanistan."
Ethnomusicology XXV(1): 1-39.
(1987) "Principes d'improvisation rythmique dans le jeu du rubab
d'Afghanistan." In L'Improvisation dans les musiques de tradition orale,
Bernard Lortat-Jacob (ed.), SELAF, Paris. English version of this paper
published as "Principles of rhythmic improvisation for the Afghan rubab"
in International Council for Traditional Music UK Chapter Bulletin
1989:3-16.
(1988a) Music of Afghanistan: professional musicians in the city of
Herat. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. With accompanying audio
cassette.