Bach in the D.C. subway

[tsubame]

Bach in the D.C. Subway, by David Lee Garrison

(Partita No. 2 in D Minor)

As an experiment,
the Washington Post
asked a concert violinist--
wearing jeans, tennis shoes,
and a baseball cap--
to stand near a trash can
at rush hour in the subway
and play Bach
on a Stradivarius.
Partita No. 2 in D Minor
called out to commuters
like an ocean to waves,
sung to the station
about why we should bother
to live.

A thousand people
streamed by. Seven of them
paused for a minute or so
and thirty-two dollars floated
into the open violin case.
A café hostess who drifted
over to the open door
each time she was free
said later that Bach
gave her peace,
and all the children,
all of them,
waded into the music
as if it were water,
listening until they had to be
rescued by parents
who had somewhere else to go.



There is a reason why Mozart and Bach and Beethoven are known to this day, and their music played all throughout the world. I bless the technological miracle that lets me have all of them, and all they wrote, great artists and their great art played by great artists, and all for a few minutes' fiddling with search terms.

xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx xOx

An interesting article on one woman's realization of racism in Canada. Because I sadly have had people from various countries-- Canada, Australia, even the US of A (this is just my personal experience, mind)-- try to tell me that racism is a thing of the past in these modern utopias.

. . . yeah, they were white folks. ::le sigh::

I also have a certain familiarity with the feeling of "representing an entire culture," that her boyfriend mentions. Of course it wasn't the same-- even in Japan I was a "favored minority," and furthermore representing my culture was a part of my job-- but it was an incredible amount of pressure, and it did effect my behavior, the way I dressed, the way I expressed myself, and even my thoughts. For the first few weeks, even months, just leaving my apartment was a strain, because I could feel people staring at me wherever I went.

But although Japan became my home, it was not the country of my birth, a place to which I would feel entitled to belong. Although I have experienced my fair amount of abuse over my lifetime for being different, no one ever questioned my right to be in the USA based on how I looked. Which is to say: I can imagine what the feeling is like, but I have never truly experienced it, nor am I likely to.

Comments

[apis-cerana.livejournal.com]

I always forget about classical music until I listen to a piece (being played in a random store, or just stumbling upon it online)...and realize how amazing it is.

Re: the realization that racism exists.
It's one of the concepts I use to try to explain white privilege -- white people have the privilege to be able to be blind to racism or not even think about it, whileas most people of minority status do not have that luxury -- almost since birth, we're treated differently.

Though I could never live there, Japan feels like a safehaven to me -- nobody treats me like I don't belong, as long as I don't talk too much and reveal that I'm not "totally" Japanese.

[grey-damaskena.livejournal.com]

I rather <3 classical music-- identifying what one likes is harder, though, because I find that I usually have to devote some mental attention to a song before I can make a decision either way. With pop music etc, it generally doesn't require so much from me.

I have lived in Japan, and enjoyed living in Japan, but of course some of the things that would bother you about Japan don't touch on me so much. As anyone looking at me would clearly identify me as a foreigner, so I am expected to be a bit weird and thus avoid many of the pressures of behavior that I would otherwise be subject to.

Of course, the downside of this is that I could never disappear or belong. Such things are somewhat low on my priority list, though.

But when I came back to the US over the winter holidays, some part of me was relieved. I imagine that feeling to be somewhat similar to how you feel, arriving in Japan?

[apis-cerana.livejournal.com]

I suppose the feeling is similar, yes...though in the US, people think I'm not American or just not possible for me to NOT be foreign, in Japan I feel like I'm just a "normal" person and not a foreigner. At the same time I don't really belong.

I'm used to not belonging (I *am* a pretty weird person, in addition to being/looking very Asian, hahaha) and sometimes use it as a badge of honor, but I must admit, sometimes I feel like just disappearing, and it is a definite sort of relief to be in Japan at times.

[azusachan.livejournal.com]

Lovely post... I was horrified how much my eyes were opened to racism after returning from Japan. Not even subtle, those-outdated-things-your-mum-says-sometimes examples, but people MY AGE making horrendous slurs for no good reason. I remember one time on a tram not long after I got back, an able-bodied white woman climbed aboard her tram, then proceeded to very loudly exclaim to her young adult daughter how incredulous she was that a CHINESE student would DARE occupy a seat on the tram when there were NATIVE AUSTRALIANS standing without a seat. Had I honestly had my ears closed to this before?

I think Australia's racism is quite pronounced in a lot of areas, despite our 'cultural melting pot' status, often due to a lack of exposure - a large majority of Australians haven't traveled extensively as other countries (even other states) are too expensive to be easily accessible. I personally believe that everyone should experience at least once what it's like to try and get by when you don't speak the dominant language.

Another problem we face is racism from within minorities - some of the non-white Australians I've known have been among the most racist I've met. There seems to have been a generational backlash, of people fiercely guarding their own culture in part by targeting 'lower' minorities. Furthermore, some of these folk seem to feel all the more entitled to it BECAUSE of their minority status.

Every time I see a bumper sticker emblazoned with the southern cross reading 'F*** off, we're full', I die a little inside. I'm glad I've had a chance to open my eyes some, but realise I still have a long way to go.

[grey-damaskena.livejournal.com]

Eyes being opened is always good, even though distress is in and of itself sad (though natural). You also have the fundamental character flaw of being a nice person, so I imagine you give people the benefit of the doubt perhaps more often than you need to.

Travel does indeed give you a different perspective on the world-- even more, living in a place where you don't speak the dominant language is an invaluable experience. You start realizing just how hard it actually is, how it limits you and isolates you.

And indeed, you bring up a good point about racism. Indeed, experiencing it oneself doesn't make one less likely to partake-- can in fact make a person more likely. "I know how it feels from the downside, now I want the opportunity to dish it out myself." Something like that . . .

. . . I am really unable to speak with any particular eloquence or inspiration on the subject of racism, it should be noted. Partially out of fear of my own ignorance, partially out of fear of my capacity to say monumentally stupid things.