Music as protest is not an entirely new concept to me, the main place it has held in my life has been the eisteddfod genedlaethol, a traditional welsh festival tracing its roots all the way back to 1176, it is a showcase for music, poetry, literature. It is the centre of welsh nationalism, it has been such a key part of keeping the welsh language and culture alive. Take, for example the poem, “Fy Ngwlad” a poem by Gerallt Lloyd Owen which lamented the investiture of prince Charles as “Prince of Wales”. This poem and performance was controversial at the time and has become part of the canon of welsh literature. For a language and culture that has been historically suppressed (see the treachery of the blue books) and whose validity is still consistently called into question, simply performing in welsh and having such a strong bastion of the culture is an act of protest, the eisteddfod encourages learners and strengthens the position of welsh as a language by maintaining old druidic traditions of music and performance. For an example of welsh protest music that exists outside of the eisteddfod (but no doubt would not exist without it), see Dŵr by Huw Jones, a song commemorating the flooding of Tryweryn, the powerful performance transcends the language, you hear the pain and rage in huw jones’ voice as he talks of the event, the wailing in the background only serves to further emphasise this rage and melancholy.
Can, then, a message be transmitted without language? As someone who (much to my own shame) never learned welsh, all I need to understand the message of Dŵr is the context and a sense of empathy. Take, for example, Matthew Herbert’s The End of Silence, which takes sounds recorded by Sebastian Meyer during the libyan civil war to remind himself of “the privilege of peace” that he is “currently afforded, living a lifestyle subsidized by others who happened to be born above oil”
Herbert, Matthew. 2013b. “‘The End Of Silence’ – Conversation with Sebastian Meyer”. Personal Website. November 19. Accessed January 29. (Link).
Listening to The End of Silence is chilling, it gives me this almost sick feeling knowing that the sounds used come from death, violence, and hatred. It is ominous and scary, a moment that has been etched into a “memorial for war” I think it effectively frames it in a way that stops the listener from just breezing past the reality of the situation, when we are constantly presented by a new tragedy seemingly every day it’s easy to become desensitised, the world becomes one emalgamted tragedy. The end of Silence forces you to stop and reflect, there are 3 parts with part 1 being the longest at 24 minutes and 11 seconds long with plenty of quiet moments to consider the context, it drives the point home, no words, the communication is done only by presenting the emotions and allowing the listener to meditate.