Conference Agenda

Nimble syllabus practices can help instructors prepare for unexpected situations and are helpful during a blissfully ordinary semester as well. Creating a variety of different assignments on any given topic, exploring online alternatives to engage students, and increasing transparency regarding student learning outcomes are all worthwhile strategies to enhance teaching effectiveness in any classroom situation.

In the initial stages of developing a course syllabus, instructors can ensure that student learning outcomes, course activities, and assessments are aligned (Ashe and Reilly, 86). In the event that classes are canceled for a week or more, faculty may be required to demonstrate that students will be able to meet the stated learning outcomes/objectives by the end of the semester. If some material that relates to learning outcomes can be incorporated into the classroom every week, things can go more smoothly in the event of an unforeseen situation.

Instructors can prepare to go online should it become necessary. Consider creating an annotated version of the course syllabus showing how course materials might go online in an emergency. Plan ahead to find online resources that are accessible and appropriate for your students; perhaps incorporate these resources into the course, with the option of leaning on them more heavily if things change suddenly. Some disaster scenarios involve loss of reliable internet access for extended periods of time. While online instruction is a valuable backup strategy, be aware that it may not be an option.

Multiple pathways through course content can be helpful in situations where students are dealing with varying levels of trauma. In the days and weeks immediately following an event, students’ ability to concentrate and focus may be severely compromised. Instructors can consider offering a variety of different assignments of varying lengths for students to complete.

Sociologists have discussed the role of social relations in creating and maintaining community solidarity following a tragedy (Hawdon and Ryan, 2011). A collective coming-together, either for a specific event acknowledging the tragedy, or to continue regular activities of established groups, can promote solidarity and heal communal grief.The collective experience is crucial. For musicians, this means participating in ensembles.

This presentation focuses on the important collective experiences of musicians participating in university and community ensembles, how music theory classrooms can relate to and enrich them, and the positive difference this work makes, especially during times of tragedy.

Music theory classes can connect with ensembles by studying the same pieces being prepared by university ensembles, thus emphasizing ties between analysis and performance, which is an established area of scholarship. Class discussions with conductors and/or faculty soloists can strengthen these ties.

Technology can provide a vital means of communication and interaction for ensembles, and for their audiences. During the pandemic, some of our university ensembles performed together in real time from various geographic locations, with the use of an online platform. This use of current technology enabled our ensembles to keep working and performing together, in spite of the difficult circumstances that kept the students apart.

Studies have found that for people ages 16-26, participating in an organization with an explicit civic aim (such as offering free public performances) enhances their sense of social well-being, which is achieved through a sense of empowerment and community (Cicognani et al. 2015). Social well-being is a dimension of positive psychological functioning (Keyes 1998). In the realm of community ensembles, Eastern Youth Orchestras is an organization for young people that provides these benefits, as well as an ongoing opportunity for musical growth. Selected music majors from ECU work in assisting roles with EYO. As a group of three orchestras for children in 3rd-12th grades who rehearse in our university’s School of Music and provide orchestral and chamber music performances throughout eastern North Carolina, EYO has fostered solidarity in times of disaster, both musically and in other ways.

In August 2021 the Chronicle of Higher Education reported that Louisiana had the highest coronavirus transmission and death rates. Criticism of Louisiana State University’s response to the pandemic focused on the lack of a strong testing mandate, and on the university’s president’s lack of action in the face of threats from the state’s attorney general, a COVID denier, that any attempts to enforce such a mandate would lead to lawsuits. When COVID vaccines became readily available the university hesitated to impose a vaccination mandate for the same reason. The result was a struggle between and among faculty and administrators over the proper response to the pandemic and to the political pressures exerted in this very Red state on public education. I present a timeline and assessment documenting this struggle.

A group of faculty activists initially formed during a struggle over curricular control in 2019. At the start of the pandemic, when it became clear that the administration was not going to institute necessary health precautions, this group sought to invoke a seldom-used provision of the university’s bylaws to convene the Faculty Council—a body consisting of all full-time University faculty, on whose behalf the faculty senate is supposed to act; on the agenda was a resolution supporting a vaccine mandate. In May 2021 over eight hundred faculty members attended a virtual meeting of the council, voting overwhelmingly in favor of a vaccine mandate.

Putting in place this basic necessity to ensure the safety of faculty and students during the pandemic required, essentially, an uprising and a rethinking by LSU faculty of how their institution was governed. As the custodians of the university’s curricula—and de facto of their students’ physical and emotional wellbeing—it was clear that in this crisis university administration had failed to side with them, responding instead to potential or actual political pressures. The LSU response is a valuable case study in how faculty must safeguard the instructional environment, and lays bare the necessarily adversarial role between faculty and administration in the modern university and demonstrates its dangers in times of natural disaster or public health crisis.

Music theory instructors at universities impacted by natural disasters must be ready to adapt and reassure their students that their education can continue, despite challenges. The music theory classroom (including written skills and aural skills) is the classroom students attend 5-days a week; it is comparable to the "home room" environment familiar to students from previous secondary schools. It is in this "home room" environment that students share thoughts about the day and respond to events that are on their minds--particularly fears and issues concerning natural disasters that are causing class cancellations or the close of campus for an extended period. Music theory involves learning and demonstrating skills that require concentration, critical thinking, application, aural response, and problem-solving; these activities can be greatly hindered by trauma, confusion, and distractions brought on by disasters that disrupt regular class meetings. The instructor's job often involves teaching the class material as well as helping students deal with fears and distractions that can impede the learning process. This can mean taking time to help students listen more carefully, repeating instructions, and giving more time to practice skills or respond to questions. One method often used in situations following a disaster is called T.I.L.T (Transparency in Learning and Teaching), in which the instructor takes more time to explain to the students the method of instruction for each topic, why the particular musical works were selected to explore this analytical approach, and the value gained from analyzing the music in this particular way (Ashe/Reilly, 2022). An instructor must evaluate the material being presented: are there items that could be omitted from the course and still satisfy the main learning objectives? Could new activities be added to help reduce stress and allow students to participate in a more game-like method? In the aftermath of a disaster, instructors can benefit from collaborations with other instructors who are facing, or have faced, similar challenges, and share strategies they have found beneficial.

Many music theorists have direct experience—as a student, a faculty member, or both—with traumatic events affecting an entire college campus. In a classroom context, where analysis can sometimes feel detached from lived experience, musical sources under study can function both as historical documents and as an emotional outlet. Classroom dynamics may also reflect deeper cultural hesitations, anxieties, or patterns of resilience, requiring educators to approach discussions with care. Adjusting expectations in a flexible and responsive way can send students a much-needed message of support and understanding. Even in cases where campus-wide accommodations or policy changes are announced in the wake of a traumatic event, a nuanced, responsive approach may be needed on an individual level. Teaching music theory in a place shaped by trauma, whether painfully recently or decades after the fact, also requires an awareness of how history lingers in institutions, communities, and individuals. The effects of past school shootings, for example, are often generational, influencing local culture, educational priorities, and students’ sense of security. While time creates distance, it does not erase the ways trauma imprints itself on learning environments. Music theoretical activities and assessments that acknowledge music’s role in collective memory—through composition, improvisation, or analysis of pieces born from struggle—can offer a meaningful bridge between past and present.

A 2017 poll revealed the nation’s top four feminists to be Michelle Obama, Oprah Winfrey, Hillary Clinton, and Beyoncé Knowles-Carter (James 2021). These women represent “girl boss” feminism by embodying the height of wealth, power, influence, and visibility. The positioning of these women as feminists by the public (and, in some cases, by the women themselves) paints a clear image of what a feminist woman in popular culture is: accomplished, partnered, and sitting at the top of a capitalist hierarchy. Even more interesting to note are their racial identities: three out of these four women are Black. That the American public would choose three Black women as the public face of feminism in 2017 is no accident; this choice reveals a public reverence for Black women who have, against all odds and despite their race and gender, ascended to unparalleled levels of success and status. Popular Black women who symbolize the American dream of earned fame and fortune through hard work often become markers of racial progress, who then serve as public surrogates for success (Griffin 2004; hooks 2014).

In this paper, I posit Beyoncé as a popular example of a captive maternal as defined by political philosopher Joy James (2021). James refers to Black women who are used by the state as “Black feminized caretakers” of the nation; I consider James’s theory about Black women who sit at the intersection of the American dream and exploitation at the hands of the state in my analysis of Beyoncé’s public performance of feminism. I incorporate similar frameworks posited by Farah Jasmine Griffin (2004) and bell hooks (2014), who theorize Black female vocality and how their voices are used in the spectacle of patriotism. I examine their definitions of feminism alongside their critiques of Beyoncé’s performance of her politics. Finally, I discuss Beyoncé’s song “Upgrade U” (2006) featuring her husband Jay-Z, examining the ways in which her feminist ideologies contradict themselves in her music. Ultimately, a closer study of Beyoncé’s performed politics reveals an uncritical consumption of her commodified feminism by the public.

For many plugged into the world of pop music, December 13th, 2013 is often remembered as the day global superstar Beyoncé Knowles-Carter released her seminal visual album BEYONCÉ. Departing from the standard album roll-out model, Beyoncé bypassed the intensive promotional template of lead singles and interviews with a simple Instagram post, disrupting industry norms and initiating a new era of promotion for the streaming age. But to Beyoncé’s loyal fanbase, the (in)famous Beyhive, December 13th is not so much well-remembered as it is a watershed of biblical dimension: it was the day their Queen Bey graduated from a celebrity to something even bigger.

Although the self-titled album has been well canonized as pivotal to Beyoncé’s career, this paper shifts attention from the voices of scholars and critics to those of the Beyhive to consider the underexplored perspective of music fandom. I pull from Henry Jenkins (1992) to construct music fandom as a recognizable subculture deserving serious scholarly attention—a framework largely relegated to cultural studies. Susan Fast’s work (2001) is a notable exception, providing a model for analyzing musical discourse alongside fan reception. I particularly pull from Fast’s discussions of mythology to analyze “***Flawless” alongside primary sources of Beyhive social media posts. The framework of mythology signals a legacy of Romantic genius from which the Beyhive at once converges and diverges, establishing a new deified artist emblematic to the streaming age. Departing from the standard paradigm of fandom studies that centers optimistic readings of fandom (as critiqued by Pande 2018 and Johnson 2020), I offer instead a critical reading of the fandom model that followed BEYONCÉ. By exalting their fave to mythical status, the Beyhive exoticizes and dehumanizes Beyoncé—a gesture that has become naturalized in online music fandom at large. This shift also led the Beyhive to become increasingly hostile to criticism, forming affective alliances of hatred (Ahmed 2004) with cautionary political ramifications. Offering a new perspective on the self-titled album, these discussions not only suggest the importance of fan reception to Beyoncé studies but also illuminate various conditions that expand our understanding of the state of popular musical culture today.

Although sampling is common throughout Beyoncé’s many records, there is a particular intentionality behind her strategic sonic choices starting with Lemonade in 2016. This album and those that follow all sample artists from the Black community and all who exist at its margins. Renaissance (2022), in particular, creates a sonic archival record of Black queerness by citing artists from both the Black community and queer community specifically. What makes this album so “unique” is many of the musicians cited hail from Beyoncé’s own personal interactions with the queer (more specifically “quare,” to describe Black queerness) underground in years past (E. Patrick Johnson 2001).

In this paper, I argue that Beyoncé uses sampling as a citational practice in Renaissance to pay homage to artists within her sonic landscape. This analysis of such recognition in Renaissance will be further supported through musical analyses using production equipment such as MIDI controllers, samplers, and DAWs. Sonic citation offers an implicit commendation of musical traditions and the sociocultural significance that accompanies them. In congruence with the identity politics brought forward in Lemonade and Homecoming, Renaissance delivers a rich cultural history of queer Black socio-political movements, blending cultural context with the usage of 1s and 0s (Katz 2010). By combining her personal experience as a Black southern woman with her own sonic exposure to quare culture on Renaissance, Beyoncé gives a new perspective on deeply rooted musical adulation in lighthearted popular tunes. Furthermore, Beyoncé’s Renaissance occupies a unique space in popular music, as her musical citations pull from underground house and ballroom scenes. The track “Alien Superstar,” for example, pays homage to one of house music’s greats, jOHNNYDANGEROUs, a pioneer of the deep house sound, as well as Danube Dance or Peter Rauhofer, trailblazer of the tribal house subgenre. Additionally, Beyoncé combines religious and secular music in the song “Church Girl” by sampling gospel group The Clark Sisters alongside the Showboys’ “triggerman” beat. By sampling such artists, Beyoncé creates a niche intersection between cultural contexts in Renaissance. Analyzing such complexities found within the process of her musicking, I argue, elevates our understanding of Beyoncé’s musicological historiography.