14/12/23 - It’s been a year (nearly)

It’s a very hot day, and lying on the couch building a new website and listening to music is probably the only productive thing I could’ve managed.

Starting a blog is kind of a naff thing to do, very “early 2000s” but I can’t see myself going through with the idea of making a podcast, which I thought about doing earlier this year. So this is an alternative. The main point is that I want people to be able to check out what I’m doing if they’re interested, and for it to be available outside the academic world.

I also like it for the storytelling aspect. It’s fitting because stories are so very integral in Indigenous cultures, and I am trying to see things from their perspective and bring that into my day-to-day life as well as my research. In fact, for the kind of PhD I’m doing, the day-to-day IS part of research.

It’s not going to be easy to explain succinctly here just what I’m doing, and when I talk to people about it I still don’t have the shiny one-liner description happening. But I’m told that’s normal for your first year. Probably also your 2nd and 3rd. I can tell you about the kinds of things I’ve been doing this year though.

I’ve been down to Canberra a lot. I am doing the PhD through the Australian National University, primarily because of my primary supervisor, Dr Chris Sainsbury, a Dharug new music composer. I feel very lucky because of this, and with Prof. Kim Cunio and Dr Amanda Stuart as my other supervisors I’m altogether stoked. I also like Canberra. I know lots of people enjoy hating on it but I think it’s quite beautiful, easy to get around and not overwhelming like many cities.

I’ve participated in a bunch of really great activities, including on-Country walking tours, cultural workshops, working bees. I’ve listened to some really interesting talks, including one about Indigenous astronomy, a couple about Indigenous responses to climate change, and about First Nations art and the environment. I’ve learnt about some native plants and their uses, and types of stone and what they can be made into. I know a little more about what good caring for Country looks like. I’ve read some incredible books. I’ve read the words of Indigenous truth-tellers, about not being taken seriously, about intergenerational trauma, about persistent false narratives, about their resilience and survival, and their defiance against systems that are stacked up against them. I’ve read a lot about decolonisation, and been part of discussions of it, and am trying to contribute to it.

I’ve been on field trips with groups, and solo adventures, where considering things I’ve learnt changes the way I perceive my surroundings, what I look for, how I move through the space, what I notice, how I feel. This often leads to more questions. I’ve met lots of new people and had wonderful and enlightening conversations. I’ve cared for Country through Bushcare and Bush Heritage volunteering, learning new things every time. I’ve become very efficient at putting up and packing down my tent on my own, even the part where I need to shove the thing back into its barely-big-enough bag.

I’ve created. One etude for trumpet about a lone mangrove seedling, another for Underwards about reluctance to leave lookouts and thinking about the sentience of Country, another called The Scrubs about choked, unhealthy bushland that’s a recipe for bushfires, and how cultural burning before 1788 would’ve kept undergrowth like this at bay. From recordings taken on my field trips I also created some sound art pieces by collaging sound clips and using processing and overlaying (they can be heard here).

Two days ago I finished a working draft of my literature review. Compared to the above, this was relatively un-fun, but still worthwhile as a way of organising my thoughts and coming back to things I’ve researched. And now, I’m really looking forward to getting creative again over the next 2 months. I also have a lot of processing to do, to get a clearer focus on what I aim to do.

A couple of recent conversations, and some headspace, reminded me that I want to find a respectful way to form a personal connection with Country. I’ve been to so many places this year, and learnt so many things, many of which are really fascinating, that my ideas got a bit scattered. The best way to form a connection is to just be there, with Country, often. It’s not as if I wasn’t doing this before, I guess I just lost sight of it a bit.

So, my current plan (and plans can change) is to keep getting to know Wangal Country where I live (probably mostly Iron Cove where my mangrove pal is - the one I wrote the etude about), Dharug Country (specifically a stunning spot overlooking the Grose Valley that I have been to a few times now) and Dabee Country (probably mainly Ganguddy but maybe also the Capertee Valley as I’ve already made music about those places). I’ll aim to write at least one piece of music about each of these places each year. The fact that these places are different distances from where I live, and that this will mean the most time in Wangal and the least time in Dabee, will be an interesting point of difference. The thesis (exegesis really, I think - I’m not entirely across definitions) will be about the process and all the things that roll into it.

Before I sign off I also just want to address a couple of things that I get asked a lot. People often think I’m doing enthnomusicology. This is not that. If anything it’s autoethnomusicology - I’m studying myself as I become changed by what I learn from seeing Country from an “Indigenous-influenced” perspective, making music as a response, and then examining that process. Sometimes people ask if I’m studying Indigenous music, or composing for traditional instruments. I want to steer clear of appropriation, so I’m actively avoiding any reference to Indigenous music. I’m also very aware of the fact that it’s unethical to retell stories that aren’t my own, unless I have permission. This is why I’m aiming to create my own stories, and tell them through my music. Having said that, in my literature review I have mentioned a few First Nations composers and their work, but only because I need to show I’m aware of the work of musicians whose work is in a similar realm to mine - that is art music, jazz and experimental music with themes relating to nature.

It’s a sensitive space that I’m working in, so I’m trying to stay cautious, to be respectful and patient and open-minded, and aware of complex social dynamics and the ongoing effects of colonisation, on everyone. Fortunately I’ve gotten to know several Indigenous folks this year who I can ask for advice too.