Ayana O. Smith’s Inclusive Music Histories: Leading Change Through Research and Pedagogy (2024), published by Routledge as part of the College Music Society Emerging Fields in Music series, promises a path toward complete pedagogical reform in the standard music history survey class. The recent call for an inclusive history of music has been answered with a fantastic array of publications, online databases, and performance initiatives, but music history faculty are still grappling with the question of how to wedge the contributions of subaltern figures into an already unwieldy canon that itself no longer fits into shrinking course offerings. Should we eliminate some Beethoven to make room for Amy Beach? Do we need to sacrifice Gershwin to include William Grant Still? The reason we can’t seem to solve the problem of inclusivity, Smith argues, is that our primary curricular concern has been the teaching of repertory, and efforts at reform have so far been aimed at this core repertory. As a result, new additions to the repertoire lack context and seem disconnected from the (white, hetero, male) canon. Smith aims to provide a new pedagogical model, asserting that an inclusive pedagogy will not be achieved until scholarship first shifts toward the research framework outlined in her book and pedagogues ultimately adopt the framework as a classroom method.
Smith calls for a fundamental shift in our approach to repertoire. Instead of asking what works we should teach, we should ask why and how we teach those works. What follows is a revolutionary turn from studying repertory to studying the function of repertory in its cultural context. This shift in focus allows us to reach beyond the canon when selecting the works we teach and provides an organic means by which to incorporate extra-canonical works into the history we teach. This method is demonstrated especially well in Smith’s case study, “Motets and Mashups—Josquin Des Prez and Danger Mouse.” The traditional curricular focus on the motet can lead students to think that this male-centric musical practice was the foremost musical expression of its time. A shift toward teaching the function of motets allows for the inclusion of a much broader group of composers and works across cultures and times. Here, Smith centers her discussion of motets on the practice of layering existing ideas to create something with a new meaning, demonstrating that it is a practice that is still in use today through the music of Danger Mouse.
Implicit throughout this book is the idea that the canon itself is not the problem—it is our received historiography that must be dismantled. Once we become aware of the means of its fabrication, and the consequences of its perpetuation, we can more effectively work toward curricular reform. The existing historiography of Western art music has created what Smith calls “shadow histories.” These are the hidden historical truths that lie undiscussed when we favor the narrative of “great men” and “great works.” Exposing shadow histories is the primary goal of questioning the traditional historiographical narrative, and teaching these shadow histories is the practical application of Smith’s framework. To do so, she recommends an approach she calls “layered pathways,” a series of touchpoints throughout the semester that both connect shadow histories to the traditional narrative and connect touchpoints in the shadow histories to each other, in turn producing more substantial narratives. This process reduces tokenism and weaves together a more inclusive history of music across time. Smith provides a template for this layered pathway in her first case study—a study of early music that moves beyond the early church and into other contemporary religious music traditions. By including more of the cultural context around early church music, she sets up the first touchpoints of multiple pathways that can be built upon throughout the semester.
It is important to note, though, that contextualizing figures and events is standard methodology for the cultural historian. Yet the feasibility of this kind of endeavor in the music history classroom is questionable. Histories of music often begin with church music because Catholic Churches housed and preserved the earliest musical texts. Smith suggests we turn to archaeology for materials outside of this tradition to provide context, and while this is certainly laudable and achievable, it is time intensive. Most educators would likely need to do considerable research outside of their field to broaden their knowledge base and course materials. If a text were to become available that could ease that burden, there is the risk of inscribing a new canon and creating a different kind of shadow history. It is one thing to source “just a few accessible materials” from other fields to contextualize the music we teach, as Smith suggests on page 7, but to build the foundations of an entire curriculum alone—one that will require constant planning and constant adjustment—seems an exhausting prospect for all but a few changemakers who are up to the task.
That said, Smith’s case studies offer much to educators seeking to make changes, even if they are not ready for a wholesale curricular redesign. They are intended to serve as models, and as such are flexible and inspirational. The annotated bibliographies at the end of each chapter are in themselves a valuable resource, and the philosophical shift Smith has modeled is an achievable way to bring new and varied voices into the repertory that forms the foundation of the undergraduate music history survey.
