Discordant: Racism in Classical Music
BY GRACE CHAI '23
Having shadowed humanity since the beginning, music is woven into our lives, culture, and history. Listen, and you will hear it: human hearts that thump, thump, thump in unison, faster and faster, spiraling into oblivion, in one multicultural, multilingual, transcendent song of the universe—only for shrill cacophonies to pierce the air.
Music is often referred to as a “universal language,” yet we have imprisoned it with the heavy manacles of injustice. Racism undermines music’s unifying power. In glorifying Eurocentric music history, systemically stereotyping people of color’s (POC) music, and profoundly underrepresenting POC in the classical music industry today, we cannot ignore the prejudices that hinder collaboration.
Before even beginning to recognize discrimination in the present-day music industry, we must understand the past—the racially-embroiled, dark, glorious legacy of the Western canon. While the “giants” of classical music, like the Bach-Mozart-Beethoven trinity, have long been household names, the achievements of their equally significant minority counterparts’ are glossed over or, more often, forgotten entirely.
We often extol Mozart as a genius, unaware that as a young man struggling to succeed in Parisian society, he was inspired by Joseph Bologne. Bologne, the son of a French plantation owner and an African slave, had established himself as a prominent composer, violinist, fencer, and colonel by the 1780s. However, his name and musical legacy have been pushed aside, and society remembers him as the “Black Mozart.” Rather than facing their own biases, many people glorify predominantly white, male composers; they reinforce the stereotype that minority musicians cannot produce high-caliber music, implying minorities’ inferiority and even primitivism. Oftentimes, the danger of discrimination lies in the unsaid—the exclusion of colored composers from history books, concert repertoire, and music curriculums portrays American standards for “real” classical music.
In the same vein, young musicians’ self-perception and interactions with fellow musicians are profoundly impacted by their education. Although no curriculum is completely bias-free, the preference for Western-style, or “normal,” music is evident in the first tunes that preschoolers learn: the “ABCs,” “Baa, Baa Black Sheep,” and “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” are set to an old French melody. There is nothing inherently wrong with these songs, but their overwhelming prevalence in schools, compared to non-Western songs, highlights the underlying prejudice in music. Instead of embracing the uniqueness of different melodies and harmonies, we focus on their so-called unconventionality and oversimplify marginalized groups’ cultures. Moreover, minority-group kids suffer reinforcement that their culture doesn't fit “the norm,” leading to internalized oppression, or the belief that they are inferior to the dominant culture. Americans cling to egalitarian ideals while ignoring the chronic undereducation of “other” music, perpetuating racially-fueled biases that students remember years later.
Aside from stereotyping non-Western music, America continues to limit the opportunities available for musicians of color, particularly Black people. Historically barred from access to music education, opportunity, and funding, Blacks are severely underrepresented in orchestra, management, and conductorship positions today. A 2010 study by the League of American Orchestras reveals that: only 2-6% of conductors and music directors in America, are Black. Six years later, another study revealed that from 2002 to 2014, Black orchestral representation wavered around 1.8%. In the MET Opera, which boasts a 138-year history, there are only 3 Black managing directors, 1 Black staff member, and 2 Black musicians in a 90-member orchestra. Why does that matter now? As Alex Ross, a music critic for the New Yorker argues, exclusion of Black musicians is a “self-inflicted wound.” By excluding the talents, innovations, and perspectives that Black musicians bring to the table, we throw away the chance to humanize them, listen to their unique voices and ideas, and have constructive discussions about music together. In short, we stagnate growth. Diversifying the music field doesn’t mean checking off a box and calling it quits—it calls us to break racial barriers and create a better music-making experience for the current and future generations.
I’m not asking you to drop everything and petition orchestras to change their repertoire, nor do I expect you to publicly denounce Western music. I simply ask you to listen. Listen to history lessons, but be aware that those are just part of the bigger picture; listen to “classical music” and other cultures’ music, acknowledging a variety of legacies. Above all, listen to the voices around you—you might just discover something worth listening to.
Music is often referred to as a “universal language,” yet we have imprisoned it with the heavy manacles of injustice. Racism undermines music’s unifying power. In glorifying Eurocentric music history, systemically stereotyping people of color’s (POC) music, and profoundly underrepresenting POC in the classical music industry today, we cannot ignore the prejudices that hinder collaboration.
Before even beginning to recognize discrimination in the present-day music industry, we must understand the past—the racially-embroiled, dark, glorious legacy of the Western canon. While the “giants” of classical music, like the Bach-Mozart-Beethoven trinity, have long been household names, the achievements of their equally significant minority counterparts’ are glossed over or, more often, forgotten entirely.
We often extol Mozart as a genius, unaware that as a young man struggling to succeed in Parisian society, he was inspired by Joseph Bologne. Bologne, the son of a French plantation owner and an African slave, had established himself as a prominent composer, violinist, fencer, and colonel by the 1780s. However, his name and musical legacy have been pushed aside, and society remembers him as the “Black Mozart.” Rather than facing their own biases, many people glorify predominantly white, male composers; they reinforce the stereotype that minority musicians cannot produce high-caliber music, implying minorities’ inferiority and even primitivism. Oftentimes, the danger of discrimination lies in the unsaid—the exclusion of colored composers from history books, concert repertoire, and music curriculums portrays American standards for “real” classical music.
In the same vein, young musicians’ self-perception and interactions with fellow musicians are profoundly impacted by their education. Although no curriculum is completely bias-free, the preference for Western-style, or “normal,” music is evident in the first tunes that preschoolers learn: the “ABCs,” “Baa, Baa Black Sheep,” and “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” are set to an old French melody. There is nothing inherently wrong with these songs, but their overwhelming prevalence in schools, compared to non-Western songs, highlights the underlying prejudice in music. Instead of embracing the uniqueness of different melodies and harmonies, we focus on their so-called unconventionality and oversimplify marginalized groups’ cultures. Moreover, minority-group kids suffer reinforcement that their culture doesn't fit “the norm,” leading to internalized oppression, or the belief that they are inferior to the dominant culture. Americans cling to egalitarian ideals while ignoring the chronic undereducation of “other” music, perpetuating racially-fueled biases that students remember years later.
Aside from stereotyping non-Western music, America continues to limit the opportunities available for musicians of color, particularly Black people. Historically barred from access to music education, opportunity, and funding, Blacks are severely underrepresented in orchestra, management, and conductorship positions today. A 2010 study by the League of American Orchestras reveals that: only 2-6% of conductors and music directors in America, are Black. Six years later, another study revealed that from 2002 to 2014, Black orchestral representation wavered around 1.8%. In the MET Opera, which boasts a 138-year history, there are only 3 Black managing directors, 1 Black staff member, and 2 Black musicians in a 90-member orchestra. Why does that matter now? As Alex Ross, a music critic for the New Yorker argues, exclusion of Black musicians is a “self-inflicted wound.” By excluding the talents, innovations, and perspectives that Black musicians bring to the table, we throw away the chance to humanize them, listen to their unique voices and ideas, and have constructive discussions about music together. In short, we stagnate growth. Diversifying the music field doesn’t mean checking off a box and calling it quits—it calls us to break racial barriers and create a better music-making experience for the current and future generations.
I’m not asking you to drop everything and petition orchestras to change their repertoire, nor do I expect you to publicly denounce Western music. I simply ask you to listen. Listen to history lessons, but be aware that those are just part of the bigger picture; listen to “classical music” and other cultures’ music, acknowledging a variety of legacies. Above all, listen to the voices around you—you might just discover something worth listening to.
