Defining Ethnomusicking Through Community Music at the Purga Music Museum
Defining ethnomusicking in the context of the Purga Music Museum
Research into the music histories of Indigenous and Scottish communities in Ipswich, Australia, shows that people have experienced different levels of access to music making connected with their own heritage and culture. Because no existing term adequately captures this active cultural involvement, the concept of 'ethnomusicking' is proposed here. What follows is an outline of this idea, supported by examples drawn from participatory action research. The aim is to critically examine the social importance of ethnomusicking and the role of the music museum curator in community-based education — especially programs designed for reconciliation and healing.
Origins of the term 'ethnomusicking'
Christopher Small coined the word 'musicking' in 1998 to describe active participation in musical events. He argued that a verb was necessary to separate the action and event from 'music' as a commodity, such as scores or recordings. His focus was on music in real life — "music as it is actually practiced by the human race." Musicking is also tied to the places where it takes place. Small observed that concert hall events involve socialising, but the listening and socialising are kept apart in separate spaces. Central to his philosophy is the idea that "to music is to take part, in any capacity, in a musical performance, whether by performing, by listening, by rehearsing or practising, by providing material for performance (what is called composing), or by dancing."
When the prefix 'ethno' is attached, the term refers to how people engage with music in ways that are meaningful and relevant to their socio-cultural context, location, values, and beliefs. Ethnomusicking can connect a person to their own ethnic heritage, or it can describe active engagement with the music culture of a particular place — where they live, work, or play. The 'ethno' component introduces meaning, as well as the emotional, social, and spiritual dimensions of musicking that may be tied to well-being.
Powerful interactions became apparent while facilitating a Music Memories group with former residents of the Purga Aboriginal Mission and the surrounding neighbourhood. One journal entry noted:
Community music and creative arts seemed to 'lift the lid' on emotions as stories that had been long hidden started to be shared publicly across generations. People started to develop and share insights about creative visions for the future. I observed that there were powerful processes at work as old acquaintances were renewed and friendships developed across ethnic groups, but I could not fully understand or explain the theoretical reasoning behind what was happening.
The phrase 'culturally engaged community music practice' proved too cumbersome for daily use. The practice itself involved group conversations, oral histories, reviewing original scores and recordings, writing stories about local music history, playing and listening to meaningful and relevant music, and reflecting on the work through newspapers, conference talks, and radio interviews. A high degree of social artistry was required to manage group dynamics.
Working with community groups: two music stories
Two community groups were supported in writing their own music histories. The first project, The Purga Music Story and Harold Blair, was a community education package published in 2005. It took the form of a children's story interspersed with activity ideas, supported by multi-media teaching aids. Ideally, local people tell the story themselves, playing music and interacting with children in their own manner.
The second project, Turn of the Century: Ipswich Thistle Pipe Band 1909-2009, written in 2009 with band members and supporters for the band's centenary, used participatory action research to encourage the sharing of music heritage and culture through creative activities, auto-ethnography, and performance. The process was not always smooth; involving people as co-researchers led to some hair-raising experiences.
For example, a minister in Rosewood discovered an elderly lady climbing into the church rafters to retrieve trophies from a 1930s eisteddfod that had long been forgotten. He told her to come down for safety reasons, but her curiosity was life-giving — she meant to share what she had found. She proudly recounted the story at the Seniors Week dinner and in the local newspaper. On another occasion, while interviewing a former Ipswich Thistle Pipe Band member with two university students, the man donned a blonde wig, showed the young women a piece of scanty underwear he had received as a birthday gift, and proudly honked his walking stick, which was rigged to play electronic messages. The moment became an unforgettable auto-ethnographic performance.
Many elderly people no longer played instruments but could readily engage with music through storytelling and sharing old photos and memorabilia when given the opportunity. Their knowledge was valued by encouraging them to share stories with others as part of group conversations videotaped by peers. The details people chose to record were amusing and revealing. One camera operator focused on an Indigenous elder eating a pikelet with honey dripping down her chin, completely ignoring someone recounting music history on the other side of the room. Mostly, participants videotaped their young grandchildren regardless of what else was happening. When asked for the footage afterwards, it became clear that music performances had not always been recorded.
People treasured family relationships and social reunions most of all. Sharing food and drink invariably drew a crowd and fostered a convivial setting for ethnomusicking. Conversations usually centred on family news, memories of old neighbourhoods, and acquaintances. When music history was the topic, the musical activities people described were deeply woven together with people, places, and life's challenges. While the absolute truthfulness of every account cannot be guaranteed — stories were embellished creatively, with humour, hugs, dramatic pauses, and gasps followed by laughter — the physical and social contact was distinct from the isolation of listening to recordings at home.
Tools for mapping musical transmission
Counselling methods, particularly genograms, proved useful for mapping how music was passed from person to person within a geographical area. Coloured paper squares were used to write the names of musicians, bands, orchestras, and teachers. These were arranged and rearranged on an old door to trace lines of musical transmission across generations. The exercise was revealing because it uncovered the broken relationships of the Stolen Generation and the regrettable loss of traditional Indigenous music heritage, culture, and language. In contrast, newspaper records and minute books from the Caledonian Society showed that Scottish music traditions in Ipswich were continuous from the organisation's first gathering in 1873 to the present day.
Analysing historical scores and attitudes
Music scores and recordings found in the Purga Church cupboard, including some from the early twentieth century, disclosed prevailing social attitudes. One telling example is "The Queensland Children's Song" by E.W.H. Fowles and George Sampson (1912), whose final verse states:
This land is ours; we can till or spoil.
God grant that from age to age,
We cherish more, come peace or war,
Our Queenly heritage.
The lyrics "This land is ours; we can till or spoil … Our Queenly heritage" appear to carry the idea of terra nullius — the assumption by European settlers that Australia was uninhabited and could be used however they wished. This mindset was instilled in schoolchildren through singing in classrooms.
Cross-cultural performance and its limits
During work on the Ipswich Thistle Pipe Band history, performances of Auld Lang Syne on YouTube were examined. The traditional Scottish song is performed at New Year's Eve celebrations around the world in many different ways, with variations linked to ethnic groups and genres. People with disabilities also participate in these performances. The musickers in their revelry have been audacious enough to reshape the traditional genre in whatever manner they chose. This cross-cultural exchange does not seem to have damaged the music tradition or troubled Scottish people, similar to the spirit in which the Yolngu Chooky dancers performed Zorba the Greek on Elcho Island, Australia.
There are, however, sensitivities associated with ethnomusicking. It is critical to investigate exceptions and seek plausible reasons why some cultural groups are absent or choose not to participate. The music museum must provide space so that people are not swamped by global traditions that override local interests. It remains unclear why Indigenous Australians were not represented on YouTube performing Auld Lang Syne — whether this is related to British colonisation or whether the practice of recording and uploading such videos has not yet appealed to people. YouTube is not a reliable gauge of ethnomusicking preferences, but it offers a window into how music participation is woven into social events.
Ethnomusicking as valued occupation
It is worth questioning whether ethnomusicking represents a valued music occupation or simply audacious antics at the Purga Music Museum. Occupational therapists use the term 'occupation' to refer to everyday activities people perform as part of daily work, rest, and play — individually or with family and community. The process of doing, being, and becoming occupies our time and can lend meaning and purpose to life. Participation in meaningful activities depends on our freedom to make choices for ourselves.
Supporting communities to connect with their music heritage and culture rests on the belief that "everyone has the right freely to participate in the cultural life of the community, to enjoy the arts and to share in scientific advancement and its benefits," as stated in Article 27 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (United Nations, 1948). Local music traditions are crucial for this engagement because they are tied to places where people have lived and seem to reflect diverse cultural groups' spiritual understanding, values, and ways of life.
Since the International Classification of Functioning, Disability and Health (World Health Organisation, 2001) was introduced, there has been broad agreement that terminology is needed to describe how well-being relates to environmental context and activity participation. This applied focus marks a shift from biomedical models toward psycho-social and socio-ecological views of well-being. The emphasis on quality of life also connects to health promotion conventions stressing the importance of social determinants of health.
Occupational justice and ethnomusicking
Professionals use terms to describe situations where people's freedom to engage in meaningful activities is restricted. "Occupational injustices exist when participation is barred, confined, segregated, prohibited, undeveloped, disrupted, alienated, marginalised, exploited or otherwise devalued." Occupational apartheid is "the segregation of groups of people through the restriction or denial of access to dignified and meaningful participation in occupations of daily life on the basis of race, colour, disability, national origin, age, gender, sexual preference, religion, political beliefs, status in society, or other characteristics. Occasioned by political forces, its systematic and pervasive social, cultural, and economic consequences jeopardise health and well-being."
If ethnomusicking counts as a music occupation, it can certainly be a valued activity — but this depends on social attitudes and policy. People may experience musical deprivation, injustice, or even musical apartheid when ethnomusicking is devalued or restricted. In Australia, Indigenous people were deprived of and restricted from traditional ethnomusicking through removal and segregation on reserves, based on welfare officers' judgments of skin colour. Inequalities in musical opportunities persist today due to poverty, geographic isolation, or social exclusion. Personal apathy or disinterest can also self-limit opportunities. Younger generations may not always wish to invest the time and effort necessary to learn music traditions their elders want to pass on.
The Music Council of Australia estimates that most music learning takes place informally, outside school environments. This throws considerable responsibility onto individuals and communities for how they choose to engage with music heritage and culture. Australia recently ratified the UNESCO Convention for the Protection and Promotion of the Diversity of Cultural Expressions (2005), which offers guidelines for developing policy and practice that would strengthen the push for equitable participation opportunities.
When ethnomusicking appears as audacious antics
Ethnomusicking can appear as audacious antics when people have not developed sufficient awareness of the interplay between 'personal,' 'professional,' and 'political' values. The method of 3P archaeology, described by Gelya Frank and Ruth Zemke (2009), incorporates exactly such interplay, suggesting a series of questions to clarify conflict or cooperation. Frequently, informal agreements or memoranda of understanding must be negotiated with those involved in ethnomusicking because addressing the complex personal, social, spiritual, and moral dimensions requires guidance on ethics that may not be available to community musicians. A collaborative Community of Inquiry approach — with therapists, curators, and ethnomusicologists working alongside local people — is recommended.
Contentious issues in practice
Among the sensitive questions are whether groups wish to express their religious, political, and personal beliefs in front of an audience. Sometimes groups decide to hold separate religious services or ceremonies so as not to offend certain attendees. The beliefs of one group might inadvertently compromise the rights of others who feel obliged to sit through a performance contrary to their convictions. Diplomacy is essential: discussing who will be involved, where, when, and how before the event is crucial. After an ethnomusicking event, debriefing about what worked well and what might change next time is valuable. Critical reflection on practice remains indispensable.
The curator's role and the ideal community education model
A curator at the music museum walks a dangerous tight-rope trying to balance the different views of people and groups. The role will naturally be shaped by personal opinions and the skills of other team members, but it is difficult to escape local politics — especially if one lives or works in the neighbourhood and has social ties. The aim of the Creative Communities team is to get to know people, develop a better understanding of music traditions, and understand how they are to be performed. Reliance is placed on culture bearers and respected elders to teach and inform about what is appropriate in a given context, and they are invited to participate in decision making.
Ideally, the music museum at Purga operates on flexible frameworks for culturally engaged community music practice developed through focus group consultations, reflection on practice, literature reviews, and critical examination of what occurs elsewhere. The goal is cultural engagement that recognises music traditions as living and evolving over time in response to numerous variables that can be plotted on a spidergram covering different action variables.
Through ethnomusicking, people have the chance to improvise or play freely within their cultural heritage.
Participants typically work with well-known repertoire and gauge one another’s responses. This process is generally shaped and steered by those taking part. Ethnomusicking gives people direct, lived experience of musical heritage and culture, even when that inheritance is distant in time or location from the present day. Such experience can have a stabilising or enriching effect on social relationships, or the opposite may occur. People can employ musical expression in diverse ways, for instance to generate a particular emotional impact on those around them. The capacity of ethnomusicking to offer people a public voice is especially significant for establishing supportive relationships that may foster reconciliation and healing.
At times, ethnomusicking becomes highly contentious and rebellious. The Purga Creek Bikers rallies grew so loud and linked with anti-social behaviour that a local progress association lobbied until the gatherings moved elsewhere. This reinforced the status quo tradition of singing 1960s pop songs in the local church as the only public form of music-making. Consequently, young people appear to have become disconnected, with few attending community events. The potential of ethnomusicking to reform and instil specific social attitudes, values, and belief systems has been most fully exploited by the older and middle generations within church services. Formal links with schools have not yet been established to enable student participation, so young people have not yet fully developed their capacity to express themselves through music in public venues. Within a music museum setting, ethnomusicking allows people to collaborate creatively in producing, interpreting, and encoding their own culture, rather than accepting mass media or institutional representations that impose fixed meanings.
Local residents must develop their own frameworks for culturally engaged community music and organise their own events. This allows people to encode culture creatively through music and other cooperative group endeavours. Ethnomusicking in the music museum appears to sustain living music traditions that are intertwined with people and their experience of their surroundings. The museum serves as a meeting place for stakeholders and as a keeping place for recordings and music memorabilia. The venue and its participatory ethnomusicking practices constitute an essential part of safeguarding music heritage and culture so it can be shared with coming generations.