Re: Stealing
Appropriation // Remix // Creativity // Curation
prelude
1. What's the big deal?
In 2008, composer Osvaldo Golijov was commissioned by the League of American Orchestras to honor their retired president and CEO Henry Fogel, resulting in a collection of orchestras from across the county teaming up to fund and secure first performance rights to the new piece Golijov would write. The work, titled Sidereus, was premiered in October of 2010 by the Memphis Symphony Orchestra. But starting in February 2012, Golijov became subject to criticism for having used a pre-existing piece, a work titled Barbeich by composer Michael Ward-Bergeman, as the basis for his own work. The discovery that the two works were related was made by NPR critic Tom Manoff and University of Oregon music professor Brian McWhorter after attending the Eugene Symphony’s performance of Sidereus. Both Manoff and McWhorter had been working on the completion of a recording of an arrangement of Ward-Bergeman’s Barbeich. The whole situation has resulted in composers, performers, and music critics from around the country crying “outrage” for Golijov’s alleged theft. Full details of the scandal can be read in the article by Bob Keefer which broke the news, and in the following reports by Barry Johnson, Anne Midgette, Alex Ross, and Rob Deemer. Yet from all reports, it seems clear that Golijov and Ward-Bergeman had come to some sort of “agreement” regarding Golijov’s use of Barbeich, which means that this is not an issue of musical theft. Ward-Bergeman knew that Golijov wanted to use his work, and he consented. A side by side comparison of the two works can been seen in the video below.
Full versions of the two works can be heard here:
Michael Ward-Bergeman: Barbeich
Osvaldo Golijov: Sidereus
It is clear that substantial portions of Ward-Bergeman’s work are used in the Golijov. Still, Golijov has taken what was a 4 minute piece of music, originally for solo accordion, and turned it into a 10 minute work for full orchestra. Many have argued that this amounts to plagiarism, yet Golijov’s own description of the piece credits Ward-Bergeman:
For the "Moon" theme I used a melody with a beautiful, open nature, a magnified scale fragment that my good friend and longtime collaborator, accordionist Michael Ward Bergeman came up with some years ago when we both were trying to come up with ideas for a musical depiction of the sky in Patagonia. I then looked at that theme as if through the telescope and under the microscope, so that the textures, the patterns from which the melody emerges and into which it dissolves, point to a more molecular, atomic reality.
Describing the material that he borrowed as simply “a melody” is perhaps a bit of an understatement, but Golijov has still made an attempt at attribution.
But while many claim to be upset over Golijov’s use of another composer’s material, what actually seems to be the real issue at hand is Golijov’s lack of “originality.” The problem is not that Golijov borrowed material, it’s that he failed to do anything interesting with it. It’s not wrong that Golijov took material from Ward-Bergeman and used it for his own, it’s just lazy.
For the "Moon" theme I used a melody with a beautiful, open nature, a magnified scale fragment that my good friend and longtime collaborator, accordionist Michael Ward Bergeman came up with some years ago when we both were trying to come up with ideas for a musical depiction of the sky in Patagonia. I then looked at that theme as if through the telescope and under the microscope, so that the textures, the patterns from which the melody emerges and into which it dissolves, point to a more molecular, atomic reality.
Describing the material that he borrowed as simply “a melody” is perhaps a bit of an understatement, but Golijov has still made an attempt at attribution.
But while many claim to be upset over Golijov’s use of another composer’s material, what actually seems to be the real issue at hand is Golijov’s lack of “originality.” The problem is not that Golijov borrowed material, it’s that he failed to do anything interesting with it. It’s not wrong that Golijov took material from Ward-Bergeman and used it for his own, it’s just lazy.
interlude
2. i steal, you steal, we all steal...
In some respects, Golijov didn’t have a chance. From the moment he was commissioned, he was building off someone else's idea. The very notion of an “orchestral overture” has been done time and time again. From the start, determinations about length, ensemble size, and how the work will function within the entirety of the program have already been decided. It is impossible to write one with out having to take into consideration that which has come before it. This isn’t a problem, it’s just a fact. There is no such thing as a work of art devoid of outside influence. All ideas come from somewhere else. As Daphne Keller argues, “human culture is always derivative, and music perhaps especially so. New art builds on old art.”(1) Each new thought or idea builds off of that which came before it; this is how society grows.
Here’s an example. In 1981, Laurie Anderson released her song “O Superman (For Massenet)”
Here’s an example. In 1981, Laurie Anderson released her song “O Superman (For Massenet)”
This song became an unexpected hit in the United Kingdom, rising to number two on the singles charts. Yet the parenthetical dedication is more than just a tribute. The song itself is built on composer Jules Massenet’s aria “Ô Souverain, ô juge, ô père” from his 1885 opera Le Cid, the title of which translates to “O Sovereign, O Judge, O Father.” The opening lyrics to Anderson’s song are “O Superman, O Judge, O Mom and Dad” - a direct reference to the line from the Massenet.
Here is a recording of the Massenet for comparison. The actual aria (with the title line) begins at 1:45, after the recitative.
Here is a recording of the Massenet for comparison. The actual aria (with the title line) begins at 1:45, after the recitative.
While these two pieces are radically different, Anderson is clearly indebted to the original for giving her the impetus to create something entirely new and unique. Aside from the lyrical content, there are similarities in the melodic shape of the opening melody in the Massenet aria and the opening lines of Anderson's song. Additionally, the alternating two chord harmonic progression (if you can even call it that) which is the basis for most of "O Superman" seems to be directly related to the opening two chords of the Massenet. Yet Anderson's work seems just as indebted to minimalist pioneers such as Terry Riley and Philip Glass as it does the Massenet. The repeated "Ha" that is sustained through the entirety of "O Superman" functions in quite the same way as the repeated "C" in Riley's "In C" while the keyboard line that enters at 2:41 (in the above Anderson clip) seems to borrow from Glass's 1967 work "Strung Out." Anderson's pairing of minimalist aesthetics with material appropriated from Massenet allows "O Superman" to function as a sort of (pardon the pun) meditation on Massenet's “Ô Souverain, ô juge, ô père.”
Massenet's “Ô Souverain, ô juge, ô père" was premiered in 1885, Anderson's song was released in 1981 and just a few months ago, British group The Big Pink released the following song on their second album, Future This:
Massenet's “Ô Souverain, ô juge, ô père" was premiered in 1885, Anderson's song was released in 1981 and just a few months ago, British group The Big Pink released the following song on their second album, Future This:
The title alone, "Hit The Ground (Superman)," should be enough to make the connection between Anderson's "O Superman" and The Big Pink's track. Yet it takes only a few seconds of listening to realize that "Hit The Ground" is built upon a sample of Anderson's work. While "O Superman" was built upon an ostinato of "ha ha ha ha," "Hit The Ground" is built upon an ostinato of the Anderson track itself. While The Big Pink's track sounds nothing like Anderson's, it clearly could not have been created without the existence of the original.
Through the sampling of "O Superman", "Hit The Ground (Superman)" has brought Anderson's original track back to our collective memories. It is then not at all surprising to see this:
Through the sampling of "O Superman", "Hit The Ground (Superman)" has brought Anderson's original track back to our collective memories. It is then not at all surprising to see this:
This commercial for a smart phone is airing now. And it uses Anderson's original track. To sell smart phones.
I can't help but think that it would have never occurred to the ad agency to use this song if it hadn't been for its recent resurgence in the last few months. Now I may be wrong about this connection, but it doesn't really matter. Because the commercial can't exist without the song.
In Steal Like an Artist, writer Austin Kleon's manifesto on appropriation and creativity, Kleon asserts that “What a good artist understands is that nothing comes from nowhere. All creative work builds on what came before. Nothing is completely original.”(2) The line which connects Massenet to Anderson to The Big Pink and back to Anderson is a clear demonstration of that principal.
But let's look at another example.
I can't help but think that it would have never occurred to the ad agency to use this song if it hadn't been for its recent resurgence in the last few months. Now I may be wrong about this connection, but it doesn't really matter. Because the commercial can't exist without the song.
In Steal Like an Artist, writer Austin Kleon's manifesto on appropriation and creativity, Kleon asserts that “What a good artist understands is that nothing comes from nowhere. All creative work builds on what came before. Nothing is completely original.”(2) The line which connects Massenet to Anderson to The Big Pink and back to Anderson is a clear demonstration of that principal.
But let's look at another example.
"Bittersweet Symphony" was a song written by the Verve in 1997. It was a hugely successful hit which received a great deal of radio airplay and has subsequently been placed in numerous films and television ads. Unfortunately, The Verve aren't considered the songwriters of their own song. Instead, the song is credited to Mick Jagger and Keith Richards. The details surrounding how this happened are complex, but in short, The Verve used a sample of an orchestral cover of The Rolling Stones song "The Last Time" which had been created by Andrew Loog Oldham (The Rolling Stones original manager/producer). It sounded like this:
Nobody, including The Verve, is arguing that "Bittersweet Symphony" isn't based on Oldham's arrangement of "The Last Time." They admit to sampling the work and using as the basis for their own song. The price for clearing the sample? 100% of the songs royalties. In order to be able to release the song, The Verve were forced to sign over all of their rights to the song.
But here's the irony of the situation—The Rolling Stones' "The Last Time," which was the basis for the Oldham recording that The Verve sampled, was actually stolen from a recording of a song called "This May Be the Last Time," by the Staple Singers. Here are the two songs side by side:
But here's the irony of the situation—The Rolling Stones' "The Last Time," which was the basis for the Oldham recording that The Verve sampled, was actually stolen from a recording of a song called "This May Be the Last Time," by the Staple Singers. Here are the two songs side by side:
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Oh, and "This May be the Last Time" probably wasn't really written by The Staple Singers either. It's a traditional gospel song with no attributed author.
So The Staple Singes do their version of the traditional song "This May be the Last Time," which is then used by The Rolling Stones as the basis for "The Last Time," which is later re-arranged into an instrumental orchestral version by Andrew Loog Oldham, which is then sampled by The Verve to create "Bittersweet Symphony." When you stop and look at it from this perspective, it's an amazing illustration of the way creativity and inspiration travels through culture over time. The unfortunate part of this story is that The Verve were prevented from reaping the benefits of their own creative efforts.
This situation has a history of being all too common. In the late 1980's, composer John Oswald's experiments with sampling (which he referred to as "plunderphonics") were essentially sued out of existence due to copyright infringement. Oswald was splicing together extremely short samples (sometimes in the range of a tenth of a second long) and reconfiguring them into entirely new works. Here's an example:
So The Staple Singes do their version of the traditional song "This May be the Last Time," which is then used by The Rolling Stones as the basis for "The Last Time," which is later re-arranged into an instrumental orchestral version by Andrew Loog Oldham, which is then sampled by The Verve to create "Bittersweet Symphony." When you stop and look at it from this perspective, it's an amazing illustration of the way creativity and inspiration travels through culture over time. The unfortunate part of this story is that The Verve were prevented from reaping the benefits of their own creative efforts.
This situation has a history of being all too common. In the late 1980's, composer John Oswald's experiments with sampling (which he referred to as "plunderphonics") were essentially sued out of existence due to copyright infringement. Oswald was splicing together extremely short samples (sometimes in the range of a tenth of a second long) and reconfiguring them into entirely new works. Here's an example:
John Oswald didn't create any "new" sounds for that track, but you'd be hard pressed to try and label it as a plagiarized composition. Despite the fact that Oswald was creating this music as an academic exercise and was giving the music away, he was sued by Michael Jackson's lawyers for copyright infringement (Oswald reworked Jackson's hit "Bad" into a new work titled "Dab") and was required to turn over his master tapes for destruction. Fortunately copies of his work still managed to survive and although it is somewhat difficult to track down, his music can still be obtained. The Oswald case is one of the better depictions of legal/copyright issues preventing an artist from doing the work they want to do. This has been a common problem for many artists since the dawn of digital media. The ability to reproduce images, sounds, and video digitally made it far easier for just about anyone to take the work of another artist and reconfigure it for their own use. Once that became an option, the flood gates of remixable culture were opened.
Recently, the question was posed to me as to whether or not the world is becoming more tolerant and accepting of works which use appropriation and remix as the basis for their creation. It’s a hard thing to answer. A case like the Golijov fiasco seems to suggest that we’re stuck in a mode of thinking that we can’t seem to move beyond. But there are many other examples of work that I can’t imagine anyone allowing to exist even 10 years ago.
The work of Greg Gillis, who performs under the name Girl Talk is a perfect example. Listen below for a selection from his 2006 album Night Ripper and pay close attention at 1:26....can you name that tune?
Recently, the question was posed to me as to whether or not the world is becoming more tolerant and accepting of works which use appropriation and remix as the basis for their creation. It’s a hard thing to answer. A case like the Golijov fiasco seems to suggest that we’re stuck in a mode of thinking that we can’t seem to move beyond. But there are many other examples of work that I can’t imagine anyone allowing to exist even 10 years ago.
The work of Greg Gillis, who performs under the name Girl Talk is a perfect example. Listen below for a selection from his 2006 album Night Ripper and pay close attention at 1:26....can you name that tune?
That's right...it's The Verve's "Bittersweet Symphony."
Like Oswald, Girl Talk creates new works through the combination of many pre-existing works. But Girl Talk is using much longer samples and is playing on the juxtaposition between them to bring meaning to his work. The number of artists he samples on a single album is well into the hundreds (and includes both Michael Jackson and The Jackson 5) yet he has never faced any legal issues regarding his work. I can't offer a better explanation as to why this is other than our culture is simply becoming more tolerant of appropriation as a basis for creation.
To offer one more example that truly suggests that appropriation is becoming an accepted practice, we should turn to the work of self-described "music producer and remix artist" Nick Bertke, who performs under the name Pogo. Bertke writes: "I record sounds from my favourite games and movies, and piece them together like a jigsaw puzzle to create completely new music." The work that seems to have brought him to relative notoriety is "Alice," a remix of Disney's animated classic Alice in Wonderland.
Like Oswald, Girl Talk creates new works through the combination of many pre-existing works. But Girl Talk is using much longer samples and is playing on the juxtaposition between them to bring meaning to his work. The number of artists he samples on a single album is well into the hundreds (and includes both Michael Jackson and The Jackson 5) yet he has never faced any legal issues regarding his work. I can't offer a better explanation as to why this is other than our culture is simply becoming more tolerant of appropriation as a basis for creation.
To offer one more example that truly suggests that appropriation is becoming an accepted practice, we should turn to the work of self-described "music producer and remix artist" Nick Bertke, who performs under the name Pogo. Bertke writes: "I record sounds from my favourite games and movies, and piece them together like a jigsaw puzzle to create completely new music." The work that seems to have brought him to relative notoriety is "Alice," a remix of Disney's animated classic Alice in Wonderland.
Bertke's work is made up entirely of samples from the film, reconfigured to create a new piece. In many ways Bertke's work seems to be following in the footsteps of Oswald and Gills (whether he knows it or not). Yet Bertke has perhaps taken things one step further by including video in his remixes. Each sample now seems to have a visual representation, helping to establish the form of the music through moving image.
But Alice in Wonderland is a Disney film...
Disney has had a long history of taking legal action against pretty much anyone who even thinks about infringing upon their copyright. So much so that the Copyright Term Extension Act of 1998 (which extended the length of time a copyright holder can retain their copyright) was nicknamed "The Mickey Mouse Protection Act" due to Disney's fierce lobbying in support of the act. How is it then that Bertke's work is even allowed to exist? Disney, in what seems like a radical shift in their modus operandi, decided that rather than try and force Bertke's work out of existence, they would give him a job instead. According to a recent NPR interview, Disney commissioned Bertke to put his creative spin on their film Up, resulting in his work "UPular."
But Alice in Wonderland is a Disney film...
Disney has had a long history of taking legal action against pretty much anyone who even thinks about infringing upon their copyright. So much so that the Copyright Term Extension Act of 1998 (which extended the length of time a copyright holder can retain their copyright) was nicknamed "The Mickey Mouse Protection Act" due to Disney's fierce lobbying in support of the act. How is it then that Bertke's work is even allowed to exist? Disney, in what seems like a radical shift in their modus operandi, decided that rather than try and force Bertke's work out of existence, they would give him a job instead. According to a recent NPR interview, Disney commissioned Bertke to put his creative spin on their film Up, resulting in his work "UPular."
Disney's shift in attitude seems to clearly point in the direction of a real change in the way that the use of appropriated materials is being viewed. To quote Thomas Jefferson: "He who receives an idea from me, receives instruction himself without lessening mine; as he who lights his taper at mine, receives light without darkening me." Finally, large corporations like Disney are starting to agree with Jefferson and realize that work built out of appropriated materials can have value, both artistically and commercially, without posing a threat to their own material.
interlude
3. personal museums
When one listens to a work built upon appropriated materials, they can appreciate it on two different levels. First there is the pure musical experience that they might enjoy, just as with any piece of music. But then there is a new type of appreciation that takes place through a kind of listening that is based on the juxtaposition of the music that has been appropriated and the listener's familiarity with the sources from which they have been taken. The placement of appropriated materials against one another (or against new, original material) allows for the relationships between these individual parts to become more apparent and for discoveries to be made that would never occurred without their forced relationship to one another. Additionally, it allows for insight into the composer's thought process and their influences. The process of recognizing the sources of appropriated materials and placing them into a larger musical and cultural context is a new form of musical analysis and the work itself acts as a form of musical commentary. This is clearly evident in the work of Oswald, whose plunderphonic works function as a kind of musical essay—musical “sources” are placed in the context of one another to create a new statement. Oswald states:
Musical language has an extensive repertoire of punctuation devices but nothing equivalent to literature's“ ”quotation marks. Jazz musicians do not wiggle two fingers of each hand in the air, as lecturers often do, when cross referencing during their extemporizations, because on most instruments this would present some technical difficulties - plummeting trumpets and such. Without a quotation system, well-intended correspondences cannot be distinguished from plagiarism and fraud.
Issues of plagiarism and fraud aside, it is clear that Oswald's interest is in creating a commentary based on the way he appropriates materials. This commentary that is created in any work of Oswald's is specific to him as both a creator and consumer of music. You cannot appropriate that which you haven't already experienced. To steal a piece of music, you must have heard it first, and everyone's experience is unique to them as an individual. And what is an individual if not a sum of their own experiences? While there may be no such thing as originality at all, the perception of originality is created through the combination of an individual’s unique experiences as a person. The manner in which an artist pieces together ideas and sources—the way that they steal—creates what we might call originality.
As the appropritave-art advocating collective Negativland has stated, “The act of selection can be a form of inspiration as original and significant as any other.” In this way, a work can serve as a sort of "curated exhibition" of an artist's ideas and influences. This becomes far more apparent in works which use appropriated materials because the sources are frequently already familiar to us—but it is present in any work. You simply cannot create art without combining ideas, and those ideas always come from somewhere. Likewise, there are always ideas that must be left out. Any work is built upon a process of selecting and discarding ideas. How these ideas are put together is what makes art, Art.
To demonstrate, I'd like to turn to a work of my own—an arrangement of Franz Schubert's "An Die Musik."
Here's a recording of the original (song begins at 37 seconds):
Musical language has an extensive repertoire of punctuation devices but nothing equivalent to literature's“ ”quotation marks. Jazz musicians do not wiggle two fingers of each hand in the air, as lecturers often do, when cross referencing during their extemporizations, because on most instruments this would present some technical difficulties - plummeting trumpets and such. Without a quotation system, well-intended correspondences cannot be distinguished from plagiarism and fraud.
Issues of plagiarism and fraud aside, it is clear that Oswald's interest is in creating a commentary based on the way he appropriates materials. This commentary that is created in any work of Oswald's is specific to him as both a creator and consumer of music. You cannot appropriate that which you haven't already experienced. To steal a piece of music, you must have heard it first, and everyone's experience is unique to them as an individual. And what is an individual if not a sum of their own experiences? While there may be no such thing as originality at all, the perception of originality is created through the combination of an individual’s unique experiences as a person. The manner in which an artist pieces together ideas and sources—the way that they steal—creates what we might call originality.
As the appropritave-art advocating collective Negativland has stated, “The act of selection can be a form of inspiration as original and significant as any other.” In this way, a work can serve as a sort of "curated exhibition" of an artist's ideas and influences. This becomes far more apparent in works which use appropriated materials because the sources are frequently already familiar to us—but it is present in any work. You simply cannot create art without combining ideas, and those ideas always come from somewhere. Likewise, there are always ideas that must be left out. Any work is built upon a process of selecting and discarding ideas. How these ideas are put together is what makes art, Art.
To demonstrate, I'd like to turn to a work of my own—an arrangement of Franz Schubert's "An Die Musik."
Here's a recording of the original (song begins at 37 seconds):
Schubert's original, however, was unfamiliar to me. It wasn't until I heard Josephine Foster's cover of the song that I went back and found the original.
josephine foster - "An die musik" (Schubert/Foster)
Yet my discovery of Foster's version only occurred because I happened to be in New York playing a concert, and the venue owner happened to put music on after our performance, and the Foster track happened to be what came out of her iPod. Were it not for these circumstances I might have never discovered the Schubert.
Based on this experience, the Schubert was fresh in my mind when I was commissioned to arrange a German art song for the ensemble wild Up. At the same time I was commissioned, I had been going through a phase of listening to a lot of girl groups from the 1960's--The Ronettes, The Shirelles, and The Crystals to name a few. Of particular note was this song:
Based on this experience, the Schubert was fresh in my mind when I was commissioned to arrange a German art song for the ensemble wild Up. At the same time I was commissioned, I had been going through a phase of listening to a lot of girl groups from the 1960's--The Ronettes, The Shirelles, and The Crystals to name a few. Of particular note was this song:
the crystals - "he hit me (and it felt like a kiss)"
The Crystals recording of "He Hit Me" is fascinating for several reasons. First, it is simply a well written and recorded song. Second, it amazes me that a song, which seemingly condones domestic abuse, even exists. Third, there is the layer of irony that the track was recorded by Phil Spector, who was known to have, at the very least, psychologically abused his wife Ronnie Spector (and was later convicted of murdering actress Lana Clarkson).
When I began to write my arrangement of the Schubert, I couldn't mange to get The Crystals track out of my head...so I combined them. To me, there was something interesting in taking an "art song" and trying to make it more like a "pop song." Additionally, I was intrigued by the juxtaposition of a song which acts as a profession of love for music with another work that justifies domestic abuse in the name of love.
This became the basis for my arrangement, taking the chord progression lyrics and melody from "An Die Musik" and combining them with rhythmic, timbral, and structural elements of "He Hit Me." Yet in the process of working on my arrangement, I was somehow was struck by the similarities between "He Hit Me" and another song, The Beach Boys "You Still Believe In Me."
When I began to write my arrangement of the Schubert, I couldn't mange to get The Crystals track out of my head...so I combined them. To me, there was something interesting in taking an "art song" and trying to make it more like a "pop song." Additionally, I was intrigued by the juxtaposition of a song which acts as a profession of love for music with another work that justifies domestic abuse in the name of love.
This became the basis for my arrangement, taking the chord progression lyrics and melody from "An Die Musik" and combining them with rhythmic, timbral, and structural elements of "He Hit Me." Yet in the process of working on my arrangement, I was somehow was struck by the similarities between "He Hit Me" and another song, The Beach Boys "You Still Believe In Me."
the beach boys - "you still believe in me"
Furthermore, I realized that the melody from The Beach Boys song would work quite well as a counterpoint to the melodic material from the Schubert. Since I had already decided that I would steal its melody, I also began to add structural elements from "You Still Believe In Me" into my own arrangement, adding a modulation upwards to mirror the form of The Beach Boys track and opening my arrangement with an additional melodic fragment that referenced the title of The Beach Boys song. Finally, in a last moment of inspiration, I added a quotation from the opening of The Velvet Underground's "Sunday Morning" to add an additional rhythmic element between the first verse and the orchestra interlude. Here is a recording of the completed version of my arrangement:
wild up - "an die musik" (Schubert/tholl)
I consider it an original work, despite the fact that it is built upon the work of others. Though it borrows from many sources, it does not sound like any one of them; you would never use my arrangement as a substitute for any of the originals.
It is not necessary for the listener to know any of the above information to enjoy this piece. However, an awareness of the many different sources involved in its creation can allow the listener to appreciate it in an entirely different way. Undoubtedly, very few would be able to listen to the work and pick-up on all of it's sources; yet that is what makes it original. Nobody else has had the musical and life experiences which allowed me to curate these musical ideas in the way that I did. The work is an exhibition of who I am.
Let us conclude by reconsidering Golijov for a moment. Was his borrowing of Ward-Bergeman's Barbeich for his own any different than the my borrowing of the Schubert and Crystals songs? If anything, my appropriation is worse—I didn't ask permission and didn't attribute the sources in any sort of program note. Golijov took Barbeich, with permission from the composer, orchestrated the work, added some material, and called it his own. People claim that this is an act of theft or plagiarism and thus are outraged. But the real reason we are upset with Golijov is because his piece, as an act of curation, revealed nothing about him as a person. The relationship between what he took and what was his own didn't offer any sort of conversation or comment—it didn't make anything better.
It is not necessary for the listener to know any of the above information to enjoy this piece. However, an awareness of the many different sources involved in its creation can allow the listener to appreciate it in an entirely different way. Undoubtedly, very few would be able to listen to the work and pick-up on all of it's sources; yet that is what makes it original. Nobody else has had the musical and life experiences which allowed me to curate these musical ideas in the way that I did. The work is an exhibition of who I am.
Let us conclude by reconsidering Golijov for a moment. Was his borrowing of Ward-Bergeman's Barbeich for his own any different than the my borrowing of the Schubert and Crystals songs? If anything, my appropriation is worse—I didn't ask permission and didn't attribute the sources in any sort of program note. Golijov took Barbeich, with permission from the composer, orchestrated the work, added some material, and called it his own. People claim that this is an act of theft or plagiarism and thus are outraged. But the real reason we are upset with Golijov is because his piece, as an act of curation, revealed nothing about him as a person. The relationship between what he took and what was his own didn't offer any sort of conversation or comment—it didn't make anything better.
postlude
Notes
Since this article was designed to exist online, most of the references in this piece have been attributed through links in the text. For those where no reference was readily available online, I have created traditional footnote documentation. While many of the sources I have referenced first came to my attention through printed material, it seems more useful to attempt to keep things linked digitally to enable the reader to travel "down the rabbit hole" towards new paths of discovery.
1. Daphne Keller, “The Musician as Thief: Digital Culture and Copyright Law,” in Sound Unbound: Sampling Digital Music and Culture, ed. Paul D. Miller (Cambridge: The MIT Press, 2008), 135.
2. Austin Kleon, Steal Like an Artist, (New York: Workman, 2012), 7.