Anthology of American Folk Music

NOTES: 

Anthology, from the mid 17th century, meaning 'flower' + 'collection' via anthos + logia

The songs in the anthology strike familiarity, giving contemporary popular music some context. As a whole collection, it is difficult to imagine it was compiled in 1952, before its aftermath. When consuming contemporary music on a daily basis from place to place, I find that I overlook the connections between music and the dimensions of time and place, fetishizing the commodity like a free packet of sugar. 

The idea of commoditization is not new to me, but the realization of it comes slowly. This week, I was introduced to the idea that space can be succinctly framed by the words, be here now. In being, in place, in time. As simple and mundane as that sounds, I find it very difficult to acknowledge it in day to day experiences; the cues deflect. Maybe there later. 

Back to the idea of the flower collection, Harry Smith's Anthology of American Folk Music offers a collection of precious, homegrown pieces that make up a powerful arrangement of texture and color. A poem by Czeslaw Milosz comes to mind. 

By the Peonies, 1945

The peonies bloom, white and pink.
And inside each, as in a fragrant bowl,
A swarm of tiny beetles have their conversation,
For the flower is given to them as their home.

Mother stands by the peony bed,
Reaches for one bloom, opens its petals,
And looks for a long time into peony lands,
Where one short instant equals a whole year.

Then lets the flower go. And what she thinks
She repeats aloud to the children and herself.
The wind sways the green leaves gently
And speckles of light flick across their faces.