Composing Apartheid is the first book ever to chart the musical world of a notorious period in world history, apartheid South Africa. It explores how music was produced through, and was productive of, key features of apartheid’s social and political topography, as well as how music and musicians contested and even helped to conquer apartheid. The collection of essays is intentionally broad, and the contributors include historians, sociologists and anthropologists, as well as ethnomusicologists, music theorists and historical musicologists. The essays focus on a variety of music (jazz, music in the Western art tradition, popular music) and on major composers (such as Kevin Volans) and works (Handel’s Messiah). Musical institutions and previously little-researched performers (such as the African National Congress’s troupe-in-exile, Amandla) are explored. The writers move well beyond their subject matter, intervening in debates on race, historiography, and postcolonial epistemologies and pedagogies.

The period of apartheid was a perilous time in South Africa’s history. This book examines the tactics of resistance developed by those working for the Weekly Mail and New Nation, two opposition newspapers published in South Africa in the mid- and late 1980s. The government, in an attempt to crack down on the massive political resistance sweeping the country, had imposed martial law and imposed even greater restrictions on the press. Bryan Trabold examines the writing, legal, and political strategies developed by those working for these newspapers to challenge the censorship restrictions as much as possible—without getting banned. Despite the many steps taken by the government to silence them, including detaining the editor of New Nation for two years and temporarily closing both newspapers, the Weekly Mail and New Nation not only continued to publish but actually increased their circulations and obtained strong domestic and international support. New Nation ceased publication in 1994 after South Africa made the transition to democracy, but the Weekly Mail, now the Mail & Guardian, continues to publish and remains one of South Africa’s most respected newspapers.

This book explores how six American writers have artistically responded to the racialization of U.S. frostbelt cities in the twentieth century. Using the critical tools of spatial theory, critical race theory, urban history and sociology, Simpson explains how these writers imagine the subjective response to the race-making power of space.

For several centuries Cape Town has accommodated a great variety of musical genres which have usually been associated with specific population groups living in and around the city. Musical styles and genres produced in Cape Town have therefore been assigned an "identity" which is first and foremost social. This volume tries to question the relationship established between musical styles and genres, and social - in this case pseudo-racial - identities. In Sounding the Cape, Denis-Constant Martin recomposes and examines through the theoretical prism of creolisation the history of music in Cape Town, deploying analytical tools borrowed from the most recent studies of identity configurations. He demonstrates that musical creation in the Mother City, and in South Africa, has always been nurtured by contacts, exchanges and innovations whatever the efforts made by racist powers to separate and divide people according to their origin. Musicians interviewed at the dawn of the 21st century confirm that mixture and blending characterise all Cape Town's musics. They also emphasise the importance of a rhythmic pattern particular to Cape Town, the ghoema beat, whose origins are obviously mixed. The study of music demonstrates that the history of Cape Town, and of South Africa as a whole, undeniably fostered creole societies. Yet, twenty years after the collapse of apartheid, these societies are still divided along lines that combine economic factors and "racial" categorisations. Martin concludes that, were music given a greater importance in educational and cultural policies, it could contribute to fighting these divisions and promote the notion of a nation that, in spite of the violence of racism and apartheid, has managed to invent a unique common culture.

ÿ Popular Afrikaans music artists have done well in post-apartheid South Africa and enjoy the enthusiastic support of loyal fans. This support is fuelled by a complex set of emotions linked to ?being Afrikaans? in a culturally pluralistic society. In On Record, van der Merwe investigates the interplay between popular music and the unfolding of Afrikaans culture politics from the start of the twentieth century to the present. It includes a search for the earliest recorded Afrikaans songs and documents subsequent phases of music development that reflect the agency of ordinary individuals - artists and listeners - against a background of fundamental societal and political change. It regards both the music mainstream and the alternative, and reveals, among other things, historical cases of compliance and resistance regarding the master narrative of Afrikaner nationalist ideology, the attempts by cultural entrepreneurs to establish authority over popular Afrikaans culture, class tension, lasting racial exclusivity, protest and censorship, and the post-apartheid invocation of Afrikaner nostalgia and white victimhood. Ultimately, On Record provides an uninterrupted account, and a critique, of the entire history of recorded popular Afrikaans music up to the present.

This volume examines how African indigenous popular music is deployed in democracy, politics and for social crusades by African artists. Exploring the role of indigenous African popular music in environmental health communication and gender empowerment, it subsequently focuses on how the music portrays the African future, its use by African youths, and how it is affected by advanced broadcast technologies and the digital media. Indigenous African popular music has long been under-appreciated in communication scholarship. However, understanding the nature and philosophies of indigenous African popular music reveals an untapped diversity which can only be unraveled by the knowledge of myriad cultural backgrounds from which its genres originate. With a particular focus on scholarship from Nigeria, Zimbabwe and South Africa, this volume explores how, during the colonial period and post-independence dispensation, indigenous African music genres and their artists were mainstreamed in order to tackle emerging issues, to sensitise Africans about the affairs of their respective nations and to warn African leaders who have failed and are failing African citizenry about the plight of the people. At the same time, indigenous African popular music genres have served as a beacon to the teeming African youths to express their dreams, frustrations about their environments and to represent themselves. This volume explores how, through the advent of new media technologies, indigenous African popular musicians have been working relentlessly for indigenous production, becoming champions of good governance, marginalised population, and repositories of indigenous cultural traditions and cosmologies.

Winner of the Benjamin L. Hooks National Book Award Winnter of the Michael Nelson Prize of the International Association for Media and History In 1964, Nina Simone sat at a piano in New York's Carnegie Hall to play what she called a "show tune." Then she began to sing: "Alabama's got me so upset/Tennessee made me lose my rest/And everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam!" Simone, and her song, became icons of the civil rights movement. But her confrontational style was not the only path taken by black women entertainers. In How It Feels to Be Free, Ruth Feldstein examines celebrated black women performers, illuminating the risks they took, their roles at home and abroad, and the ways that they raised the issue of gender amid their demands for black liberation. Feldstein focuses on six women who made names for themselves in the music, film, and television industries: Simone, Lena Horne, Miriam Makeba, Abbey Lincoln, Diahann Carroll, and Cicely Tyson. These women did not simply mirror black activism; their performances helped constitute the era's political history. Makeba connected America's struggle for civil rights to the fight against apartheid in South Africa, while Simone sparked high-profile controversy with her incendiary lyrics. Yet Feldstein finds nuance in their careers. In 1968, Hollywood cast the outspoken Lincoln as a maid to a white family in For Love of Ivy, adding a layer of complication to the film. That same year, Diahann Carroll took on the starring role in the television series Julia. Was Julia a landmark for casting a black woman or for treating her race as unimportant? The answer is not clear-cut. Yet audiences gave broader meaning to what sometimes seemed to be apolitical performances. How It Feels to Be Free demonstrates that entertainment was not always just entertainment and that "We Shall Overcome" was not the only soundtrack to the civil rights movement. By putting black women performances at center stage, Feldstein sheds light on the meanings of black womanhood in a revolutionary time.