There’s
no question that the best writing/thinking happens when I find myself in the
abode of writing/thinking. That sounds
like a tautology, and I suppose it is.
But I need to begin with the tautology, as I near the PES Memphis
deadline, which nine days away.
Paradoxically, last week’s visit to Memphis granted me the opportunity
to dwell in the abode of writing/thinking,
which I found day after day in the Café Keough. I say, paradoxically, because it was
ostensibly a reconnaissance trip that I anticipated would involve lots of
meeting time. On the contrary, the
reconnaissance happened with that very same dwelling I have just
mentioned. ‘Reconnaissance’ means
preliminary surveying or research, and arrives from the French reconnaître ‘recognize’. I suppose in my case it means all of that,
which I would qualify in phenomenological terms. But it also means ‘to witness’
or ‘witnessing’ as in ‘bearing witness’.
This is how I would have to
qualify the reconnaissance work that happened for a philosophy conference I am
chairing and have called under the banner “The Blues/Soul Music”. Bearing witness to the reality and further
possibility of Memphis as a site for making philosophy under the sign of the
blues and soul music. I recognized this
when walking alongside and over the Mississippi, moving up and down Beale
Street, and back and forth on Main Street, especially when I gave witness to
that eternally recurring place of tragedy and redemption, the second floor
balcony in front of room 306 of the Lorraine Motel.
I started with the tautology because so much of today was
spent responding to PES Memphis inquiries and related organizational
matter. And I only really started
thinking/writing when I turned to work on my sabbatical application.
So now, for a brief commentary, I turn to the meditation
written this day ten years ago. And I do
so by way of yet another recollection from last week’s trip to Memphis. At dinner on Thursday night Frank asked me
about my use of the soul. On his way to
Memphis he’d read the paper I wrote for and read at the International
Philosophy of Music Education conference, “Does Music Offer Us A
Philosophical Education? Retrieving
Music’s Soulful Education”, a paper
that was my first attempt to think the relationship between philosophy,
education, and music. When Frank asked
me point blank, What do you mean by ‘soul’?, I was completely thrown. He didn’t give me a warning that he was going
to drop such a heavy question on me.
And, what’s more, he had just read a paper that I’d written in 2013, the
very same paper that blew up on me exactly one year ago at this very same table
where I am sitting at the moment in the second floor of the Drew University
library!! In fact, when I told Frank
about how the paper was destroyed by Megan’s heavy handed editorial treatment,
he was confused. But when I told him
that I’d written a completely new paper, one that was the beginning of the work
on koinonia (in proto form, of course), he was relieved. The truth is that the paper he had read is
alive and well. Indeed, it lives on in
the CFP for PES Memphis, and will be actualized in the conference itself.
I want to return to Frank’s question, but first, I’ll share an excerpt
from the introduction to the paper he was referring to:
How might
we retrieve/renew a soulful education, i.e.,
a philosophical education of the soul through music? (EN 1) With this paper I
want to explore the possibility of retrieving the connection between philosophy
and music, specifically, as they work together in what the ancients called the
educational formation of the soul. Here, the crux of the matter is the
reception of a vocation, a calling summoned by the force of music. In receiving this calling one finds oneself
to be moved by music. With this calling we are at one and the same
time ‘caught-up,’ ‘grounded’ and ‘moved’ by the force of music. This process of apprehension and releasement
describes what I am calling the soulful education offered by music. It is an education that addresses us at the
core of our being, inspires us to dwell in that core, and thereby to engage in
‘care for self’ (epimeleia heautou,
cura sui). Music takes us
to the core of our being where we
learn to care for the self, others
and the world. This is the philosophical
education it offers us.
There is an old yet mostly forgotten tradition in philosophy of
identifying the unique pedagogical power of music, and this paper emerges as an
attempt to retrieve the thinking about the relationship between music,
philosophy and education. Music, as it
has been contemplated in that tradition, arises from the primordial recognition
of a cosmic harmony gathering together all beings into the dynamic, ceaseless
nativity of Being. Hearing this harmony
and re-creating it through music is an example of the undertaking what Socrates
called a life worth living. In turn,
this paper is interested in making a first step at renewing an ancient
discourse on the way music inspires, moves and thereby educates us to care
about a living a worthy life.
ENDNOTE NUMBER 1: To speak of retrieving and
renewing an ancient philosophical discourse is to issue the call made by the
project I call originary thinking. The
project, which was initiated in the writing of Being and Learning (Duarte, 2012), is an attempt to break out of the
constricted, formulaic and prescribed norms of academic philosophy, or what
Hannah Arendt (1978) derisively categorized as the contrivances of‘
professional thinkers.’ The originary break from the present is an interruption of a
‘professional philosophy’ that predominates in the field of philosophy of
education. The break is an attempt to clear the way for a possible future in
this field, and to do so by recovering lost or forgotten forms of making
philosophy: aphorism, meditations, confessionals, sentences, epistles,
disputations, commentary, etc. These are the ‘two fronts’ (prospective,
retrospective) indicated by Reiner Schurmann (1990). Together with the present that is broken, the
originary thinking project unfolds through a trinitarian temporal movement
(ontological temporality): suspending the present, leaping toward a possible
future, re- turning to the ancient past.
The deployment of the originary
project in this paper is a retrieval of of the original denotation of the art
which we have inherited as ‘music’. For
the ancient pagan Greeks μουσική (mousike) meant the art of the muses,
and, with respect to education, was the foundation of all practices
contributing to the proper formation of the soul. Francis Tovey’s succinct description reminds
us that when Plato and Aristotle were distinguishing the two major fields of
education (music, gymnastic), music, in the sense that we normally refer to it
today, was only part of the more general
‘musical education.’ “Thus the singing
and setting of lyric poetry formed but a small, if a central part of a
‘musical’ education which ranged from reading and writing to the sciences of
mathematics and astronomy, besides all the arts of literature. The philosophers valued music, both the
ancient general sense and in our restricted sense, chiefly as an educational
element in the formation of character.” Tovey (1959), p. 101. In this sense, when we retrieve ‘music’ as μουσική (mousike), we find ourselves taking up the education of
the soul, or, perhaps, a soulful education, which better captures the way this
education unfolds. Indeed, the
prospective move toward another, futural, understanding of ‘musical education’
will both retrieve the ancient intention to educate the soul, and announce the
arrival of soulful education.
I included the important EN 1 (Endnote Number 1) because it
not only gives important context but shows the connection between this, that, and the other thing
[this: 2.0, Being and Learing, that:
the project of originary thinking, the other thing: music-making philosophy,
the blues, soul: PES Memphis]. Indeed,
anyone who might be reading this blog might be interested to compare the last
two lines of EN 1 with the CFP for PES Memphis
So, back to Frank’s question. After recovering from what I like to a hard
body and/or stick check in lacrosse (something I experience every early Sunday
morning at the Riverside Athletic Center in Portland), I gathered myself and
responded: Excess. When I use the term
‘soul’ it denotes what is always in excess, specifically, the excess of time
[the future, the forgotten past] and space [those ‘vacant’ rooms, fecund fallow
places], meaning. The ontology of
excess. What exceeds us, what remains in
potential, the ‘not yet’. [Here I am
immediately restrained, momentarily, by the conversation I had earlier today
with Sam Rocha re: his grad seminar’s engagement with Guttierez. Becoming poor, that is to say, returning to
the advent, the spiritual ontology of natality, the child. Becoming poor
understood through the ontology of natality allows us to understand the
denotation of the soul as ‘excess’, and allows us to ward off the reduction to
material excess, and to avoid having the
project derailed by the logic of Capitalism]
The soul: excess.
“The building of poetic dwelling begins anew with the reception of the
excess that spills over in the dialogic encounter. ‘Bless the cup that wants to
overflow!,’ say Zarathustra as he prepares his going-under.”(10/22/04 BL ) This is how the meditation from this day
begins. Excess is conjoined with
overflow and overflowing and both are kept within the cup, yes that cup…the originary koinon that gathers the, again and
again, the koinonia. That
cup appears again and again in the form of whatever koinon is held in common, which we might even very generally
describe as ‘curriculum’, especially because of this word’s roots in turning,
racing, running, moving! The koinon is both what is shared and what
moves the learning community, and also
what the learning community moves on.
This is why in the previous day’s commentary I describe the song/saying
something as what moves the learning
community.
Likewise, in the large and powerful wake created by the
reading of Acts 2:1 & 6, I want to recall the movement of the strange songs
of Pentecost that moved the Apostles from the Cenacle (Upper Room) on Mount
Zion into the streets of Jerusalem. I want
to recall this while streaming “Viola Lee Blues” from the GD’s performance on Haight Street in San Francisco March 3, 1968
[It’s become a usual habit of mine lately to withdraw from
the noise around me – on trains, in airports, even in libraries – and listen to
very early GD and the signature extended jams of those heady days]. It’s a stretch, for sure, a risk-taking leap
I’m taking when I listen to this music, performed on a flatbread truck above
thousands of people jammed onto the boulevard, and identify in it the
recurrence of that movement from the Cenacle and into the streets of
Jerusalem. I’ll take the Kierkegaardian
leap! “The offering of the overflowing cup is the dis-orderly conduct of the
improvisational performance that spills over and into the order of the habitual
habit…spills over into the domestic security, producing the counter-resonance
of the dissonant. This spilling over is
the breaking through, the destruktion,
that signals the opening of that gap…”(10/22/04
BL 248 )
Learning by jamming!
That aphorism that organized the paper that emerged from the destructed
soul paper, seems almost trite in that in comparison with the audacious writing
from this day ten years ago. Trite,
‘lacking in originality’? Only if it is
read outside of context. The aphorism is
like that small yet overpowering sip of wine made from grapes that have grown
and been harvested from an nearly primordial vine, grown up in a vineyard that
has emerged from the primal ground. One sip from that cup…takes in all the grapes, the ancient vine and timeless
ground. THAT is the excess!
To
speak of soul is also to speak of the blues, the mess, the disorder, the disruption,
the counter-cultural: “Improvisation, the arrival of the in-effable, the not
yet spoken, the excess spilling over.
This spilling over dis-rupts the tidiness of the orderly…The site of
learning is thus a dis-orderly sphere that is, nevertheless, unified by the
common purpose of the project, the building that arises in the mutual
edification.”(10/22/04 BL 249)
"Jamming in the name of the Lord..."
ReplyDelete~Robert Nesta Marley
3.0 (Tuesday, Portland, ME) - Just before I saw Rocha's comment I thought to myself, Wow, I was in quite the theological mood back in 2004 and again in 2014. Not so much on this day in 2024. Back when I was writing the original OPMs I was attempting to recover the sensibility I experienced when I was a student at Fordham, and philosophy felt like an intersection between reasoning and spirituality. Of course, that's how the Jesuits presented it to us. And studying with Ewert Cousins inspired my curiosity in mysticism. And while I haven't totally abandoned those mystical sensibilities, the current state of the project is a version of humanism, and the focus is the non-theological studia liberalia, liberal arts. I think this will resonate more with my field and generally make it a bit more readable. Having said that, "LEARN" does have a number of references to the religious tradition: St. Augustine, Talmud study, Socrates' muse. Moreover, it concludes with remix of Bachelard's description of the soul. I'll share an excerpt from that conclusion. But before that I wanted to note that the paper I wrote way back 2013 slowly but surely evolved and was finally published this summer in the Journal of World Philosophies as "W.E.B. Du Bois, Jean-Luc Nancy, and the Aesthetic Education offered by Music." https://orcid.org/0000-0003-3762-0759
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