Part One: Debunking the Myth of Cultural Appropropriation
The Beat Goes On…
Five years ago, the British writer Kenan Malik penned an op-ed piece, “In Defense of Cultural Appropriation,” which raised significant issues with the trend of objecting to members of one culture “appropriating” the experiences, sentiments, or cultural output of another.
Alas, Malik’s thoughtful defense of artistic freedom has not stemmed the tide—or tirade—against what many claim to be a form of “theft of intellectual property.”
Since then, there have been numerous complaints about “outsiders” depicting members of another group in written or visual material; or discussing someone else’s history; even of preparing another culture’s cuisine. The latest eruption, involving street protests in Paris, targets a Dior skirt that is based on a traditional Chinese garment.
We Don’t Own Our Own
I believe it is simply incorrect to describe this kind of activity as a form of theft. Do cultures really “own” everything that defines them as a distinct culture? Do they own their history, their artistic production, the supposed thoughts of their own members throughout history? And must we “respect” all elements of a culture and be forbidden to criticize those aspects we find less desirable, even deplorable?
What we are really talking about is sharing, not appropriating. Ideas, lifestyles, modes of artistic expression, and values flow readily from one culture to another. This is the basis for our shared humanity, and needs to be protected, not restricted.
Cultures have always influenced others with which they have come into contact, sometimes positively, sometimes negatively. Ancient Rome was very strongly and positively affected by its contact with Greek culture. Today, many national cuisines are suffering from the spread of American fast-food outlets.
Arts Across Borders
In terms of the arts, cross-cultural fertilization has been one of the giant engines not only of the spread of artistic styles, but the very evolution of artistic development. Artists often incorporate specific elements from another culture into their own, and something new emerges. (Take, for example, Debussy’s adoption of the pentatonic scale into his work.)
Creative artists have also used their imagination to project their own cultural assumptions on to other cultures, or members of other groups, particularly those distant in time or place. Consider the many Renaissance paintings of Biblical scenes, in which the characters look and dress like 15th century noblemen and women. Or the Hollywood depictions of the “Wild West” or “exotic” locales featured in the “Road” pictures.
Yes, these depictions can be strongly affected by prejudices and reinforce negative stereotypes. But the best antidote for this is a forceful exposure and denunciation of the inaccuracy displayed, not censorship; and certainly not a claim that artists in one culture have no “right” to depict members of another.
Even if we were to allow such claims of ownership, how do we define a culture to be protected? Does a population need to be or have been oppressed to claim this protection? Malik uses the example of Chuck Berry and Elvis Presley and their respective roles in bringing elements of African American music into the mainstream.
Giving Credit Where Due
There is one aspect of the opposing perspective that does deserve consideration. That is the artist’s acknowledgment of another culture’s contribution to his or her work, especially if the influence is not readily recognized.
It should be no problem to say a work product of any sort is “inspired by” or “based on” whatever influenced its creation. That seems to be the main thrust behind the Dior controversy—failure to acknowledge the historical Chinese design of the skirt.
But this is really a “nice to have” rather than a “must do.” Artists aren’t always honest about the sources of their inspiration (or about a lot of other things). The best we can hope is that those who do recognize an unacknowledged influence in someone’s output point it out. But not as a failure of the creator but as a matter of interest. An observer might post, “What’s so fascinating about X’s latest mural is his strong reliance on traditional Bolivian styles.”
Want to read yet more of my argument? Read on.
Part Two: A Muscular Musical Tour
Since my own expertise lies in the history of classical music, I will draw further examples from that sector.
A Baroquen Record
Compositional innovations and styles travel widely, often as composers themselves moved around. Take what we now call the Baroque style, that began in Italy and soon found expression throughout Europe and even the Americas. Did German and French composers, let alone their Polish and Peruvian counterparts, have the “right” to compose in this new style?
And were they committing cultural heresy when they took it upon themselves to meld elements of this new style with those of their own cultural heritage, such as the chorale tradition in Northern Germany?
And since the cutting edge of this new wave was opera, were these “foreign” composers “appropriating” Italy’s heritage when they composed their own operas, in Italian, no less? To use a somewhat later example, should Don Giovanni be banned because it violated the Italian “ownership” of opera, and cast the Spanish nobility in a negative light? (Ironically, Mozart’s Italian operas are the only ones from the later 18th century that remain in the common repertory around the world.)
Composers were certainly aware of the different musical styles of various countries, and often deliberately imitated them. A German composer might designate a piece as “in the French style” or “in the Italian manner.” Some suites even exist in which each movement is devoted to the depiction of the music of different countries.
A Taste for the Exotic
By the later 18th and well into the 19th centuries, composers succumbed to the urge to depict “exotic” music of “exotic” peoples. The fad for “Turkish” music found expression in Mozart’s and Beethoven’s output. Spain attracted numerous composers as a source of “local color” and as a setting for such steamy works as Carmen. Saint-Saens incorporated North African stylistic elements in a number of works. Gilbert and Sullivan’s Mikado provides a Victorian perspective on Japanese music and society. And Dvořák found inspiration in African American and native American music.
In all these cases, foreign composers relied on stylistic patterns that could be considered stereotypes. Moreover, by emphasizing the “exotic” aspects for their own homegrown audiences, they often displayed a bit of condescension towards the less sophisticated cultures from whom they were borrowing.
Drawing Conclusions (Finally)
Where does all this lead? To the conclusion that if we believe in a shared humanity, and in the concept that we can all relate, at least to some degree, to the experiences of people in other times and places, and in the recognition that in the long run, humanity benefits rather than loses when we share our cultural experiences, then unhampered access to one another’s experiences is far preferable to the rigid imposition of cultural silos.
That’s the “downside” of living in a free society. The alternative is a society devoted to maintaining a false civility free of conflict by protecting its members from exposure to disturbing stimuli. The result is almost always a forced conformity, as we see in many parts of the world today. Or the world depicted in Fahrenheit 451.
My conclusion is clear. Limiting artistic and intellectual discussion and setting up “do not trespass” signs around individual cultures violate our basic right of free speech, and harms society as a whole. It also ultimately deprives humanity of the benefits of shared cultural experiences that enrich us now and through the centuries.
So, my bottom line: cultures create, humanity owns.