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The Philippines. Colonial counterpoint: Music in early modern Manila. By David R.M. Irving. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2010. Pp. 394. Maps, Plates, Notes, Bibliography, Index.

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  10 January 2014

Michiyo Yoneno-Reyes*
Affiliation:
Asian Center, University of the Philippines
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Abstract

Type
Book Reviews
Copyright
Copyright © The National University of Singapore 2014 

Colonial counterpoint is a unique study on the colonial cultural encounter and develops new paradigms in historiography and musicology. Meticulously exploring a series of musical encounters between imperial Spain and colonial Philippines in the early modern period, the book embodies the ‘history of cultural globalization’ which seeks a ‘bigger picture of increasingly entangled global histories’ (pp. 234, 231). Simultaneously, Irving, the author, blends historical musicology and ethnomusicology in connecting the music of the periphery of Europe and its transplantation in Asia. Elements of postcolonial critique also make the work relevant to contemporary discourses with a multidisciplinary flavour.

With hints of Edward Said's ‘contrapuntal analysis’ (Said 1994), Irving employs the metaphor of counterpoint, a compositional technique for polyphony in Western classical music, as a governing principle of the arguments throughout the book. As counterpoint regulates imitative and oppositional (and other) movements of notes in the raw, the metaphor is certainly a helpful guide in reaffirming Filipinos' proactive and strategic engagement with colonialism, through adoption and adaptation of Spanish elements and eventual inversion and subversion against colonialism. Such a perspective confirms and advances the arguments found in such masterpieces as Reynaldo Ileto's Pasyon and Revolution (1979) and Vicente Rafael's Contracting colonialism (1988). It is suggested, however, that further clarifications be made about how to reconcile the premise of independence and equality of each voice in counterpoint and the unquestionable colonial hegemony. As Homi Bhabha suggests, ‘the menace of mimicry is its double vision which in disclosing the ambivalence of colonial discourse also disrupts its authority’ (Bhabha 1994, p. 88). But mimicry is, as Bhabha declares, ‘almost the same but not quite’ (p. 89).

Among a number of valuable contributions Colonial counterpoint makes, some are worth particular mention. First, pointing to the significance of ‘Manila 1571’ as the starting point of (musical) globalisation by referring to Dennis O. Flynn and Arturo Giráldez is a fascinating wake-up call to Philippine and global historiography; ‘Manila was the final link in the world's first circumferential trade network’ (p. 9).

Second, following the path of William Henry Scott (e.g. 1982, 1994), Colonial counterpoint reveals the richness of Spanish resources on indigenous culture as manifestations of Spaniards' interest in and strategic employment of it, rather than disrespect. References to a number of indigenous musical instruments (e.g. Jew's harp, nose flute, the plucked guitar called kudyapi, kuchapi, etc.) and vocal forms (including dialogic ones) in Manila and other Hispanised communities in the archipelago challenge the conventional dichotomous highland–lowland framework in Philippine Studies, which often views Philippine culture divisively, as though the ‘indigenous’ and ‘Hispanised’ cultures are unrelated. I hope the new knowledge contributes to the reframing of studies of Philippine culture at large so that temporal differences will be treated appropriately as such, and not in spatial terms.

Third, Irving clearly presents church musicianship as a privileged position (provided exemption of tribute, etc.) available to Filipinos in the Spanish colonial system and served ‘as a mechanism for social mobility and enfranchisement’ (p. 193). The reference to Marcelo de san Agustin, described as a distinguished musician and ‘a great servant of God’ (p. 172 n65, quoting Gapa de San Agustin), is fascinating in that he was actually a great-great-grandson of Rajah Soliman, the Muslim ruler of Maynila at the time of Spanish conquest unseated in the very year 1571. ‘Music provided the means by which Marcelo could continue to assert his familial authority on his ancestral lands within the structure of the colonial regime’ (p. 173).

In addition, abundant references to shawm (chirimiás) as ‘prevalent in church bands throughout the islands’ (p. 304) should inspire new ethnomusicological research. Hitherto organology has questioned why shawm are extremely unpopular in the Philippine Islands, in contrast to its rich history and use in neighbouring Southeast and Northeast Asia.

Colonial counterpoint elicits a fundamental question: Was it the universal rationality of European culture in the early modern period (p. 1) or colonial hegemony that made Spanish melodies and musical instruments eventually surpass their indigenous counterparts in the Philippine archipelago after decades of coexistence and interchangeable use of both? This book also refreshes the minds of musicologists with a classic question often set aside today on the seductive power of music, for which Spaniards encouraged the use of Western and indigenous music on one hand, but also regulated on the other. For its ability to reveal such deep insights, I suggest that Colonial counterpoint is an example of a rare successful work of historiography and musicology.