Kitabı oku: «Popular Is Not Enough: The Political Voice Of Joan Baez», sayfa 4

1.5.2.2 On the Credibility of Hazy Categories

Adorno’s aesthetic theory challenges even the most sophisticated experts among his readers because of its combination of a dense philosophical discourse and a chaotic composure of technical musical terms (see also Rampley 150). A closer analysis of this kind of intellectual challenge, which he forces upon his readers, however, exposes Adorno’s hazy treatment of special terms for musical categories. Adorno points out his skepticism towards categories in general by locating the danger of simplification in the way aesthetic genres are defined according to the common characteristics they share with each other:

The universal aesthetic genre concepts, which ever and again established themselves as norms, were always marked by a didactic reflection that sought to dispose over the quality, which was mediated by particularization, by measuring them according to common characteristics even though these common characteristics were not necessarily what was essential to the works (Adorno 201).

This argument can not a priori be negated. The claim of always appropriate clear-cut artistic categories might include the risk of limiting the analysis to an unsatisfying surface. Nevertheless, the total ignorance of categories in a debate about music (and its relationship to society) contains the risk of argumentative incredibility. One example in his theoretical work, which eloquently depicts this kind of risk, is the way Adorno deals with the term ‘folk’. Paddison points out this critical aspect regarding Adorno’s doubtful way of distinguishing between musical categories:

Related to the increasingly ‘sociological’ writings are those on aspects of folks music, ‘popular music’ and jazz. There are, of course, very different categories of music involved here—categories which Adorno sometimes distinguished between, but often did not […] (Paddison 26).

This analysis points out that Adorno’s treatment of different musical categories indicates a great level of vagueness. My argument is: such a blurred usage of terms can be interpreted as a weakness of his theory, more than once forcing the reader to ask: which category does he mean? His all too loose and relaxed treatment of the musical category of ‘folk music’ exemplifies this kind of doubtfulness, which his theory has to be treated with, particularly when it comes to the work of a folk singer like Joan Baez:

‘Folk music’ as a category increasingly tends in the later writings to blur into a general concept of ‘popular music’ which is itself very hazy, and Adorno sometimes seems to make little distinction between popular songs (Schlager), jazz, and ‘light music’ (leichte Musik) […] (Ibid.).

The fourth chapter of this present study outlines the relevance of folk music, the famous Folk Music Revival of the late 1950s and early 1960s and the artistic role of Joan Baez in this musical movement. It contradicts Adorno’s philosophy, who wrongfully predicted in 1932 that there was no ‘folk’ left anyway (Ibid. 26-27). Baez and other artists during the beginning years of her career up until today falsify Adorno’s predictions about the doubtful existence of folk music. All in all, Baez’s efforts differ from Adorno’s theoretical point of view not only in regard to the falsification of his negation of folk music or the authenticity in the political impetus of popular artists, who are trying to mould the boundaries between art and politics: The most relevant dimension of my doubts about Adorno’s theory is the fact that any kind of theory about society and the question of how to change it for the better necessarily has to stay limited to the passive boundaries of words. This juxtaposition emphasizes the significance which a politically active singer like Joan Baez personifies in the combination of her artistic with her political accomplishments. Adorno harshly (and often rightfully) criticizes problems of society and, all the same, is not willing to do more than write complex philosophical explanations about it.

1.5.2.3 On the Passiveness of Theories

The most incisive juxtaposing element in the comparison of Adorno’s philosophical work with Baez’s work as a singer and activist is that a theoretician always has to stay passive when it comes to criticism towards society. Adorno and his colleagues at the Frankfurt Institute for Social Research more than once emphasize the exclusiveness of the work of thought, ignoring the fact that good intentions to change society stay mere intentions as long as they are limited to theory only. Particularly during the last years of his life (which were also the first decade of Baez’s career), Adorno had had to face this kind of dilemma when he came under serious attack from the New Left for refusing to take part in political activities (see also Paddison 11) during the socially troubled times of the 1960s. He and other outstanding figures of the Frankfurt School were considerably confused about this new interpretation of their Critical Theory. Paddison summarizes this kind of confusion and outlines the reaction of Adorno and other devotees of Critical Theory to this political attack:

They had never considered Critical Theory to be a model for political action and were dismayed at the possibility of their ideas providing an excuse for the use of violence to bring about political change (Ibid.).

This kind of defense implies a wrongful and biased position, as it presupposes political activism to always result in violence, dismissing even the option of non-violent resistance—the only kind of revolution Joan Baez has always supported. Adorno is convinced that the only form of active resistance is organized violence. A closer analysis of Baez’s work during the last 60 years, as done in the following chapters, refutes this conviction. A collection of essays about Adorno’s work, which was published soon after his death in 1969, deals with this kind of divergence between activity and passivity. Adorno is quoted from one of his early essays on this topic:

Thinking actionists answer: among other things, it is important to change the state of separation of theory and practice. In order to get rid of the rule of the practical people and the practical ideal, practice is required. This, however, turns into a ban on thinking […]. One clings to actions for the impossibility of action7 (see Adorno in Schweppenhäuser 10, transl. by Jaeger).

Without giving reasons for his accusation that anyone who is active necessarily articulates the mechanisms of authoritarian governance, Adorno claims a radical impossibility of being politically active and separates theory from practice in a totalitarian manner, because, as he puts it, “[…] according to its sheer form, praxis tends toward that which, in terms of its own logic, it should abolish […]” (Adorno 241). This leads to an obvious question: how shall society, which involves the kind of ugliness that also Adorno criticizes, be changed, if no one takes action at all? Another dimension, which can only be hinted at, but should not be neglected either, is the question: to what extent could the modern democratic parliamentary right to vote be considered to be a form of political action? Applying Adorno’s point of view on the primacy of thought over action to the modern democratic parliamentary system would mean to dismiss (or even abolish) one of the most incisive political activities: the right to vote.

The work of thought doubtlessly marks the first condition to influence society—still, can this be enough? Theodor W. Adorno is convinced that we ourselves cling to action just for the sake of action’s impossibility. My reason to reproach Adorno for this pessimistic conviction is that this total negation of the necessity to be active, in order to influence society, offers no alternative to the countless misfortunes in society (injustices, which he, all the same, does not stop criticizing). His obviously depressing conclusion is that all actions were senseless and in this simplifying manner opens an artistic and political debate about the question: if this was true, then why do we need (not only his) theory at all?

The life and work of Baez contradicts Adorno’s passive theoretical assumptions. Two steps are necessary to set the course for a successful analysis of this contradiction: first, a biographical summary of Baez’s childhood and her experiences as an adolescent depicts the most relevant roots of her political and artistic background. The early years of Baez’s life have influenced her impetus as a forthcoming artist as well as her work as a political activist; this is the reason why a synopsis of this significant period is helpful for any further debate. The following sub-chapter about Baez’s childhood offers this kind of synopsis.

In addition to that, a definition and closer analysis of political disobedience and organized non-violence—the most incisive conditions for her work—finishes the theoretical background of my study. Henry David Thoreau and his famous “Essay on Civil Disobedience” can be interpreted as one of the most influential sources of inspiration for Baez; this is the reason why a discussion about this outstanding figure in the cultural history of the United States of America reflects relevant reasons for Baez not to fall into the trap of resignation; an approach which Adorno’s philosophy obviously is based upon. In chapters 4 to 10 of this study, a chronology of when and how Baez took action—with a focus on her position as a singer of national and international renown—then refutes Adorno’s pessimism and verifies my main thesis.

1 Joan Baez, Bowery Songs, Proper Records, 2006.

2 „Popmusiker haben erfahren, daß es in ihrer Macht liegt, sowohl ihre Musik als auch ihre Position zu nutzen, um Kommentare abzugeben, […] große Geldbeträge zu sammeln und den Gang der Geschichte widerzuspiegeln […] so wie es die früheren Troubadoure der Folkmusik-Bewegungen auf der ganzen Welt getan haben […]“ (Denselow 382).

3 „Einerseits gehen alle Probleme […] in die Kunst ein, andererseits sind es die Kunstwerke, die noch Kritik am schlechten Zustand der Gesellschaft üben können, ohne sich auf ihn selbst einlassen zu müssen […]“ (Sauerland 1).

4 Joan Baez, “Time Rag,“ Blowin’ Away, Portrait Records, 1977.

5 „In seiner Kritik des Musikanten schrieb Theodor W. Adorno 1956: ‘Nirgends steht geschrieben, daß Singen not sei’. Walter Moßmann und Peter Schleuning – Sänger politischer Lieder der eine, Musikwissenschaftler der andere – sprachen später von einer ‘adornitischen Schweigezeit’ und von ‘ideologiekritischer Gesangsverweigerung’“ (Böning 2004).

6 „[…] indem sie die Wahrheit direkt ausspreche, werde sie selber zur Ideologie im Sinne von falschem Bewußtsein. Sie helfe […] die Maschen des Lügennetzes, mit dem die Gesellschaft übersponnen ist, verdichten […]“ (Sauerland 3).

7 „Von denkenden Aktionisten wird geantwortet: zu verändern gelte es, neben anderem, eben den Zustand der Trennung von Theorie und Praxis. Gerade um der Herrschaft der praktischen Leute und des praktischen Ideals ledig zu werden, bedürfe es der Praxis. Nur wird daraus fix ein Denkverbot […]. Man klammert sich an Aktionen um der Unmöglichkeit der Aktion willen“ (Adorno in Schweppenhäuser 10).

2. “The Kingdom of Childhood”1: Major Moments of the 1950s
Introduction

The second chapter discusses major childhood moments in the life of Joan Baez, which were influential for her later growth as a singer and activist. It accentuates the significance of these early years for her future, supporting my assumption that Baez’s career is deeply rooted in her childhood and youth (see also Jäger Issue 13-20). Bloch indicates agreement and reiterates the condition during Baez’s childhood as formative for her later convictions and activities: “[…] Baez’s devotion to non-violence can be attributed to a pacifist upbringing […]” (Bloch Peace Activism 209). This upbringing turned out to be an active process and nomadic journey, because her father took a series of jobs, particularly at the beginning of his academic career as a physicist, which he started during the years when his three daughters were born. As the second of these three children, Joan Chandos Baez was born on 9 January, 1941, in Staten Island, New York. Her father Albert Vinicio Baez (1912-2007) was born in Mexico and had moved to the United States with his family when he was two years old. Her mother Joan Bridge Baez (1913-2013) was of Scottish and English descent and also came to the United States when she was a little child.

Both parents were responsible for Baez’s early attraction to pacifism. When her father refused to accept a well-paid job offer in the armaments or her mother suggested that the family should take advantage of Quakerism for spiritual guidance (a religious denomination with a specific focus on the literal interpretation of Christian non-violence), Baez’s later career was not foreseeable. These early confrontations with elements of pacifism, however, were necessary for Baez to increasingly understand non-violence as “[…] a means of persuasion, a technique for political activism, a recipe for prevailing […]” (Kurlansky 6). The current chapter underlines the significance of her childhood and youth for reaching such an understanding.

Baez’s parental heritage was only one noteworthy impulse, which more and more “[…] set her feet firmly on the path to liberalism […]” (Goldsmith 30). Special friendships she had made during these early years, as well as experiences and impressions as a child and a teenager played other significant parts in the development of her later understanding about the combination of artistic expression and political activism. The following five sub-chapters outline the role of these components during Baez’s childhood and youth and their consequences for her later career. As already mentioned above, the religious background of her family helped to raise her awareness for the principles of non-violence. In addition to that, her adolescent feelings of inferiority and isolation found a successful outlet in singing as well as performing in public. The third sub-chapter deals with the incisive impressions Baez had made in 1951, which was the year that she and her family had spent in Baghdad, Iraq, where her father took over a UNESCO job at the local University. Later, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Jewish scholar Ira Sandperl were two personalities who supported her impetus as an artist and activist and her devotion to the principles of organized non-violence. The Quaker movement, which Baez’s parents joined when she was a child, was one of the early influences helping to raise Baez’s awareness for the fact that organized religion does not necessarily have to follow the rules of organized violence.

2.1 Religion Without Violence: Joan Baez and the Quakers

In her review of Baez’s autobiography, Goldsmith refers to the pacifist influence during Baez’s childhood and notes the fact that “[…] Albert Baez […] in an act of conscience became a pacifist and refused lucrative defense work, choosing instead to become a professor […]” (Ibid.). Baez remembers how such challenges for her father’s professional as well as political conscience paralleled the transformation of her family’s religious background, suggesting a pertinent political reason for this development:

By now my father had begun to ask himself whether, with the overwhelming capacity of the A-bomb to wreak total ruin, there was any such thing as “defense.” As he struggled with the question—and with the lucrative offers that would assure him and his family comforts thus far unknown to us, my mother suggested we change churches […] (Baez Voice 23).

Albert Baez was not willing to sacrifice his values and scientific expertise—after getting his doctorate as a physicist at Stanford University—to the armaments during the early Cold War years, when many young Stanford scientists found a fruitful ground for career opportunities in the scientific development of weapons of mass destruction in Los Alamos, New Mexico, where the atomic bomb was being created. This unwillingness set off an insightful development during Baez’s childhood, because her parents decided to look for spiritual direction in Quakerism, a religious movement, which “[…] gave an essential […] impetus and strength to the liberal movement in America […]” (Hinth 96). Such a liberal focus can be traced throughout Baez’s whole professional life, which is the main reason why a closer look at the history of the Quaker movement is of interest to an analysis of Baez’s combination of artistic and political activities.

Baez’s religious background during her youth offers a long and storied tradition in the culture and history of the United States of America. Quakerism can neither be described as Catholic nor as Protestant. In the midst of the Puritan rise to power in America during the 17th century, Quakers had been able to successfully found a new religious denomination, which up until today has had a relevant role in American culture and religion. Since their early beginnings, Quakers repeatedly “[…] provoked the political establishment by refusing the taking of oaths and the tipping of a hat as a sign of respect […]” (Kurlansky 55). These are only two examples of the ways Quakers non-violently disobeyed authorities, which depicts the relevance of organized refusal in the history of Quakerism. It was this sort of activism which soon extended into an outspoken anti-war stance, which often resulted in “[…] their persecution, including prison, public beatings, and whippings […]” (Ibid.). The momentum for their belief in the necessity of refusing current authorities was: religion includes the responsibility for the social order and the refusal of any form of violence. Various stratums of US-American history and society due to complex social problems have time after time articulated an outbreak of such a religiously motivated belief in organized non-violence. Corbett and Corbett, for example, summarize the mottoes of Quakerism, pointing out the fact that this conviction was transformed into a range of political activities based on numerous different issues:

The Society of Friends—more commonly known as Quakers—were among the first religious groups to link personal piety with the responsibility for improving the social order. Quaker laity and leaders alike were active early on in their distinctive peace witness and in movements for poor relief, prison reform, […] and abolition […] (Corbett and Corbett 91).

These highly political essences of Quakerism certainly stress—once more in eloquent opposition to Adorno—the necessity of more than a theory when it comes to an improvement of the social order. This Quaker understanding goes back to a fact of social reality: in order to help society recover from what one considers to be social injustice, it is necessary to become active. Impulses of the Quaker movement, which influenced Baez at such a tender age, were multi-layered. Kosmin and Lachmann agree with Corbett and Corbett and point out the many faces of social interests in the Quaker faith with a description of their early beginnings in Pennsylvania during the 17th century, including a clear-cut disapproval of slavery, which was an incisive political issue in the United States for more than two centuries (with ongoing consequences in the course of the Black Lives Matter Movement today): “[…] the Quakers […] emphasized not only pacifism but an appreciation of religious pluralism and a deep-seated hatred of slavery that was to surface in a later generation […]” (Kosmin and Lachmann 21). About 300 years later, these ideals should become an essential driving force for Baez, who embraces pluralism in all of her work. In her first book of autobiographical sketches, Daybreak (New York: The Dial Press, Inc., 1968), Baez recalls the main inspiration she found in the Quaker movement and its devotion to non-violence:

[…] they [Quakers] do not pick the wars they will fight in, but they have picked the way in which they will fight, and their fight is against violence in all its forms […]” (Baez Daybreak 117).

Baez recalls sitting in complete silence when she and her family took part in Quaker meetings—logically, a boring duty for a young girl (see also Baez Voice 39, Daybreak 56). The background of the Quakers’ view of the world, however, was initially the first clue to her later career. Many of the above mentioned key characteristics are applicable to her later musical as well as political activities, although Baez never officially joined the Quakers as one of their members (see also Faber 56). It has never been necessary for Baez to be an affiliated member of organized religion in order to apply originally religious motivations to her work.

Apart from this kind of religious background, other relevant influences during her childhood and youth were responsible for her later artistic and political career. Her dark skin—which she inherited from her Mexican father –, for example, was the reason why Baez was forced to become a victim of racial discrimination as a child. The way she dealt with this kind of experience depicts an interesting sort of self-confidence, which later helped her to successfully deal with stage fright. Singing and first public performances in the schoolyard supported her to overcome intensified teenage feelings of isolation (see also Baez Voice 43-44).