African Multiple Clusters

This paper tracks the development of loudspeaker broadcasting system for African listeners in South Africa, in the 1940s. The paper argues that although such development seemed to take place under the constraints of Second World War recruitments, however in the realm of listening, it was extending on previous listening techniques (related to the inkomo, cow, a key object in Bantu-speaking cultures of Africa); it drew on commemorative forms; etc. and the fact that it had to draw on such commemorative forms for its viability demonstrates it reliance on historical antecedents (albeit caricatured in form), that demonstrated at once the resilience of the past, as well as its incomprehensibility in relation to colonial/segregationist conditions of governance. In this way the paper is a contribution to sound theory, in terms of the elaboration of listening as a category by which we come to know the world we live in, from African perspectives.

This paper zooms-in to the moment of the first African-aimed broadcasts to be aired on South African radio, presented by K. E. Masinga in the Zulu language. These took place from the Durban studios of the South African Broadcasting Company (SABC), in 1941. Innovations in microphone technology, moving from carbon microphones in the 1920s to ribbon microphones by the 1940s, gave fuller timbre to the voice of the radio presenter, and considerably reduced the distractions of unintended noise. Such technological evolutions added to the impact of the voice that would sound first in Zulu on the radio. In the critical cultural scholarship of the region, voice has not received as much scholarly attention as other instruments of information, by which models of technological administration were elaborated, in relation to the racially segregated state and its particular vision of society. This paper is concerned not so much with the fact that African audiences were now welcomed as listeners of broadcasts, but rather the nature of the relationship between themselves and the technology of broadcasting.

This paper zooms-in to the moment of the first African-aimed broadcasts to be aired on South African radio, presented by K. E. Masinga in the Zulu language. These took place from the Durban studios of the South African Broadcasting Company (SABC), in 1941. Innovations in microphone technology, moving from carbon microphones in the 1920s to ribbon microphones by the 1940s, gave fuller timbre to the voice of the radio presenter, and considerably reduced the distractions of unintended noise. Such technological evolutions added to the impact of the voice that would sound first in Zulu on the radio. In the critical cultural scholarship of the region, voice has not received as much scholarly attention as other instruments of information, by which models of technological administration were elaborated, in relation to the racially segregated state and its particular vision of society. This paper is concerned not so much with the fact that African audiences were now welcomed as listeners of broadcasts, but rather the nature of the relationship between themselves and the technology of broadcasting.

The history of black radio in South Africa demonstrates the legacy of colonialism, but also exhibits the performance of novel identities in the 'modem' state. In this dissertation I look at the early years of black radio in South Africa circa 1940-1944, focussing primarily on the Zulu language service. The service was originally broadcasted on the Afrikaans and English radio stations in South Africa. It was 3 minutes in length at its inception in 1940 and was gradually extended to 30 minutes by September of 1942. Based on the collection of archival material and newspaper clippings I look at three colonial figures that were active in the early years of native radio, namely: Hugh Tracey, who was the initiator of broadcasts in Zulu, K. E. Masinga, who presented the first shows in the Zulu service, and The Zulu Radio Choir, who were mentioned as part of the first groups to be recorded for the Zulu radio service (Tracey 1948). All three of these stakeholders have played a foundat...

A chapter about the development of broadcasting beginning in the 1920s right up to the transitional moment of 1990-1994, when it was now required to define a vision for a plural democratic society. The South African Broadcasting Corporation (SABC) was the first institution to undergo racial and cultural transformation towards the new democratic dispensation. The bulk of the material is on the early years of broadcasting (1940s), as it is the period that it less known in the mind of the public. What the research reveals is how in its founding moment the SABC tried to unify the disparate interests of white Afrikaans and English populations. In the transitional moment, the SABC attempted to integrate the interests of all its citizens, including Africans, Indians and others. In their unifying of interest, the founding moment and the transitional moment were similar. The transitional moment became so crucial to how we know broadcasting and the SABC today.

The first loudspeaker broadcasts aimed at black audiences in South Africa took place on the gold mines outside Johannesburg in the 1940s, and a few months later in the towns of the eastern province of Natal. The article demonstrates how the South African state tried to activate the African public’s imagination, using loudspeaker broadcasts on the mines and other urban areas. This was after the outbreak of the Second World War, of which South Africa took part on the side of the Allied Forces. The state wanted to control the information that was spreading among African populations about the war, loudspeaker broadcasting was seen as a solution. Its infiltration went hand-in-hand with the white segregated state’s aim to make itself into an acceptable political structure. The loudspeaker broadcasts were easily woven into the already existing ‘entertainment system’ of traditional music-dance competitions, theatre and outdoor film-screenings already happening at the mine compounds and in designated urban areas. Public locations, such as beer halls and open areas next to compounds/hostels, were punctuated by audio markers. Furthermore, given the limitations placed on the broadcasts with designated times of broadcast and brief moments given to music, even people’s routines became calibrated through sound in time and space. Sometimes this state-led appeal to the sonic sensory was done simultaneously with a eradication of visual presence, as evident in the downplaying of the role played by black soldiers in the war and the denial of permission to conduct public processions for black soldiers from other parts of the African continent. The argument is that while the state was on a campaign to conceal the presence of African soldiers in the war - by the controlling of information; the state was also increasing its own technological visibility and sonic presence through the loudspeaker broadcasts.

The first loudspeaker broadcasts aimed at black audiences in South Africa took place on the gold mines outside Johannesburg in the 1940s, and a few months later in the towns of the eastern province of Natal. The article demonstrates how the South African state tried to activate the African public's imagination, using loudspeaker broadcasts on the mines and other urban areas. This was after the outbreak of the Second World War, of which South Africa took part on the side of the Allied Forces. The state wanted to control the information that was spreading among African populations about the war, loudspeaker broadcasting was seen as a solution. Its infiltration went hand-in-hand with the white segregated state's aim to make itself into an acceptable political structure. The loudspeaker broadcasts were easily woven into the already existing 'entertainment system' of traditional music-dance competitions, theatre and outdoor film-screenings already happening at the mine compounds and in designated urban areas. Public locations, such as beer halls and open areas next to compounds/hostels, were punctuated by audio markers. Furthermore, given the limitations placed on the broadcasts with designated times of broadcast and brief moments given to music, even people's routines became calibrated through sound in time and space. Sometimes this state-led appeal to the sonic sensory was done simultaneously with a eradication of visual presence, as evident in the downplaying of the role played by black soldiers in the war and the denial of permission to conduct public processions for black soldiers from other parts of the African continent. The argument is that while the state was on a campaign to conceal the presence of African soldiers in the war-by the controlling of information; the state was also increasing its own technological visibility and sonic presence through the loudspeaker broadcasts.

Studies of creativity have not traditionally focused on power dynamics, but that is changing. Distributed and participatory approaches to creativity situate individual efforts as part of larger feedback systems from which new ideas emerge, are evaluated and are implemented. These systems include many people and material actors over time, and power is always at play. This article analyzes creativity in service to, in resistance to, and emerging from the colonial encounter, focusing on the role of the piano as a material actor in creative processes. The particular, slightly "adjusted" temperament of piano tuning first suppressed the inheritance of diverse tonal systems in Europe through industrial standardization and then was imposed on the musical practices of southern African communities in the colonial era. The natural tuning systems of the colonized people's own music was, thereby, considered to be "out of tune," providing reason both to devalue and to suppress the non-Western music. At the same time, an English working-class alternative to the tempered tuning system of the piano arose in the tonic sol-fa choral tradition, which was also exported in the 19th century through European migrations to the colonies. And, in spite of the colonial efforts, traditional southern African tonal systems were preserved. More recently, the traditional music and the sol-fa system have contributed to new, complex musical forms, synthesizing those elements with the tempered tuning system of the piano. This is, then, a complex story of shifting power around the evaluation of what is, and is not, "in tune."

ABSTRACT    This article tracks my intellectual journey in trying to understand the role played by craft specializations before the colonial era in KwaZulu-Natal (South Africa), which is the area where I come from. I do this by a comparative look at how craft specializations happened in other parts of the African continent, an approach prompted by the absence of older written or documentary sources on KwaZulu-Natal, prior to the advent of European colonialism. A key finding of the research is that the cultural and ritual repertoires of craft specialists reveal conceptual domains of expertise that are derived from intra-African regional dynamics. This contrasts with the colonial belief that implied that notions of expertise were as a result of European or Asian human contacts. In looking at craft guilds, I am interested in how ritual, technological skill and the mastery of certain musical/creative acts played a part in the formation of regional blocs in ancient Africa. Such a historical understanding may be crucial to our present-day understanding of emergent processes of regionalization and identity formation.

This article considers Hugh Tracey’s 1952 book African Dances of the Witwatersrand Gold Mines in relation to the history of music scholarship in southern Africa. Its first finding is that sound recordings and archives were crucial in the making of disciplines such as ethnomusicology and ethnology in Africa, and that Hugh Tracey was at the forefront of this process, especially in southern Africa. Its second finding is that Tracey’s project contributed to the discourse of tribing that was popular at the time, both in academic disciplines such as ethnology and in practical enterprises such as commercial recording and mining industries. The central argument is that, arising when it did in the history of sound reproduction, Tracey’s project instantiated a particular vision of the sound archive in Africa, one that emphasized preservation, purity, and study. The article also retrieves the work of early African intellectuals whose cultural vision ran counter to that of Tracey and his contemporaries; in particular, apartheid is held responsible for suppressing the views of African intellectuals such as H. I. E. Dhlomo. The article concludes with some reflections on the future of African music scholarship.