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And I opened my eyes in the boat, upon the song of the sea. The sea was singing. We set out from the Cape, with storm clouds and heavy winds, at ten at night; and now, at dawn, the sea is singing. The skipper straightens up and listens carefully, with one hand on the plank and another on his heart: the helmsman, leaves the rudder halfway: âThatâs niceâ: âThatâs the most beautiful thing Iâve heard in this worldâ: âIâve only heard something that beautiful two other times in all my life.â And then he laughs: the vaudous, the Haitian sorcerers, will know what that is: today is the day of a vaudou dance at the bottom of the sea, and the men of the earth will now know: sorcerers are casting their spells. The slow music , vast and harmonious, is like the unified sound of a tumultuous orchestra of platinum bells. The resonant echo vibrates sure and true. The body feels as if it were clothed in music . The sea sang for an hour,âmore than an hour.âThe boat pitches to and fro, en route to Montecristi.
Only a few evenings before, his Concerto monstro had premiered on that very stage. It was to be his grand departure from Rio de Janeiro after a warm and personal reception by both the Imperial family and the Republican bourgeoisie (see Fig. 1.1). It was an ambitious production with an elaborate set including Brazilian and American pavilions and illuminated by suspended chains of gaslights specially installed for the occasion.6 The 650 musicians were gathered from the theaterâs standing orchestra, private ensembles, a select group of teachers, and the musical regiments of the different branches of the Brazilian military, the rest of which was engaged at that very moment in a devastating and unpopular war in Paraguay.7 He had been working intensely in the months prior composing and arranging for the concert, and rehearsing the different groups of musicians for a three-part program including his symphony La nuit des Tropiques among a number of other pieces. One journalist would describe their occupying the entire breadth and depth of the stage, including âa mass of drumsâ and military bands with their âbrilliant uniforms lending an even greater shine to the compact mass of men.â8 The concert, he would add, was a âsonorous tempestâ reigned over by the âmusical genius,â who would conduct the âarmy of musicians.â9 The finale sounded to the journalist like the din of âbattle,â in which could be heard âthe march and formation of battalions, the screams of the wounded, and combat accompanied by actual musket and artillery fire,â a reference, no doubt, to the discharge of a cannon during the performance.10 If this and the other period responses are a fair indication, then it was the sonic analogue of the war underway near the southern border rendered in what was perceived by the public as the latest of tendencies in musical aesthetics, and all staged according to a masculinist nationalism of conquest and sacrifice. It was also a more transparently paradoxical presentation. It was, in this regard, a grandiose staging of militarist, Republican nationalism , sponsored by a monarch. It was a celebration of Brazilian nationalism, furthermore, presided over byâhis unique musical sense notwithstandingâa composer from the United States. It was produced by a vocal abolitionist in, by 1869, one of the few remaining slaveholding nations in the hemisphere. And unlike the similarly elaborate performances held ten years earlier in Havanaâs Gran Teatro TacĂłn, there is no evidence in the period descriptions of the Brazilian spectacle that Gottschalk had showcased any of the Afro-diasporic musical traditions or instruments that he almost certainly heard during his nearly six months in Rio de Janeiro ânearly half of whose residents were enslaved according to a register from only two decades prior.11 He was renowned, after all, for a diverse repertoire of compositions that were infused with a rhythmic vocabulary of Central and West African origin that he knew from his childhood in Southern Louisiana, and his wide-ranging travels throughout the Americas. The second movement of his La nuit des Tropiques is a particularly obvious example of his dialogue with these traditions, and yet it is noteworthy that there is no mention of it in the numerous period reviews of the Concerto monstro, despite its having been featured there. They were sounds, presumably, that were either too unexceptional to comment despite their being relevant to reviews of his earlier concerts in Rio, or they were sounds, on the other hand, whose presence in any recollection of this concert would have clashed with the staging and the sounding of the state, including, among other pieces, an elaborate orchestration of the Brazilian national anthem, the Grande fantasia triunfal (Variations on the Brazilian National Anthem).12 Perhaps they were sounds whose omission would have been necessary to impart the projected âracelessnessâ of the modernity being showcased. Their missing register in the period reception of the concert signals an important concern with analyzing a performance practice through a number of mediated registers, while appealing to a central distinction involving sound and its perception through listening that carries implications well beyond the context of music . It is a reminder of the essentially relational character of sound, of the inevitable implication of a listener, and of the influence of a greater totality in its reception and cognition that implicates a blend of other senses according to a historically inflected matrix.
Audible Geographies is, broadly speaking, an examination of instances like this one. It is not, to be clear, an examination or analysis of musical genres or form, nor organized around musicians and performers or the other reception contexts implied by Gottschalkâs concerts throughout the Americas. My concern here, alternatively, is with listeners like Gottschalk, just as it is with listeners like the anonymous journalist who heard a war in the sounds of strings and brass, woodwinds and percussion, while not hearing those other shards of sound organized according to an Afro-diasporic temporal rationale that were likely sounded at different moments there. It explores the audibility of place as a racialized phenomenon, and it is an inquiry into the latent logic of these procedures and thus dialogues with work in African-American and American studies concerned with the audibility of difference, while listening for the different tenors of their articulations in other languages.13 It is a foray into assorted contexts in which an attention to sound would participate in shaping not only processes of racialization, but also their positions in informing notions of place . As Steven Feld would suggest with respect to a very different context than the ones addressed here, âthe ways in which sound is central to making sense, to knowing, [and] to experiential truthâ are âparticularly relevant to understanding the interplay of sound and felt balance in the sense and sensuality of emplacement, of making place .â14 Ana MarĂa Ochoa has asked related questions of different listeners in circumstances similar to those under consideration here, and with an exceptional care for thinking through the implications of listening across boundariesâwhether national or ethnic, social or regional.15 This is part of a larger critique involving a greater sensorial range of a central problem set in Latin Am...