By Dan Lundberg
Doers Knowers Makers
One method of classifying the actors is by their aims or goals. In the groupings, which place music in a central position, the prime motive for most actors is quite simply to make music. They will be referred to as doers. In order to practise their music, doers have to gain considerable knowledge and resources, but these are primarily means by which to attain the goal of making music. Abstract, theoretical knowledge that does not relate to practice generally plays a minor and subordinate role. For the typical doer, quality and authenticity are deeply rooted in actually doing and those experiences that arise from it rather than external conditions: "What is right is what feels right for me". For another category of actors the opposite is true, abstract knowledge of external conditions is the goal. We shall call these knowers. The aim of the knowers is the possession of knowledge; research, finding answers to questions of how, when or why. A typical case is of course the academic researcher, but in reality the majority of knowers are "amateur researchers" who do not belong to Academia. When knowing is given a central position the result is that most things revolve around and are about words, spoken or written. The typical knower carries out most of his activities at a desk, in archives, in libraries, in lecture halls and at conferences. Quality and authenticity are rooted in scientific procedures and in the external conditions that are studied. Exegesis is therefore a meaningful activity, i.e. discussions on how sources and material ought to be interpreted and treated. The result of such discussions, which can be presented by the knowers as the central results of many years of research, can from the doers' perspective appear uninteresting and pedantic because they lack a clear connection with doing.
Knowers, Doers and Makers
The fundamental differences in perspective that doers and knowers give rise to have, in the area of music, been institutionalised in Sweden in the division between the training in practical music at colleges of music and the academic courses in musicology given at the universities' musicology departments. Those, whose principal motive is to distribute and sell the results of first and foremost doers, but also the work of knowers, form a third category. Record producers, publishers, arrangers, marketers, managers -- entrepreneurs of various kinds -- are here called makers. The activities that make up the goals of doers and knowers are at the same time means to other ends for makers: e.g. drawing attention to, distributing messages, attracting crowds, selling their products and making money. Quality is related in typical cases to how successfully these goals are achieved and is therefore easily equated with quantity. "That which sells well is good".
Doers, knowers and makers are three positions that actors can adopt in relation to an activity and should not be confused with the qualities of individuals. Neither are the positions mutually exclusive. Individuals might cultivate one or switch between several. In our case studies we have employed the system of positions, doers, knowers and makers as a model for description and analysis of conditions in the groupings and how they differ in important respects. In all of the groupings we have studied, music is the focus, which is why doers make up the majority. In certain groupings, knowers are many and influential, in others they are few and with little influence. In some groupings makers have a decisive influence, while in others they are of virtually no importance at all. The constellation of positions is of vital importance for how the groupings function and what resources they have at their disposal.
The Play of Opposites
From our descriptions of Swedish musicscapes it is evident that they are drawn into energy fields between what on the surface seem like opposing forces. The result is a complex, often paradoxical process that can be described as the play of opposites. A way of further shedding light on some of the opposing tendencies we have found in our case studies and at the same time link them to ongoing discussions on world developments, is to proceed from the English sociologist Anthony Giddens’ idea on the consequences of modernity (Giddens 1996). "Post-modernity" is a word that came up during the 1980s from the French philosopher and author Jean-Francois Lyotard. For him and many other theoreticians of post-modernity, industrial society is in the process of being replaced by a radical new form of society through the IT revolution, the technological revolution and the media revolution (c.f. Rosenau 1992) The main thread of history has been broken and therefore nobody can say anything for certain on what we have been, where we are or where we are going. The arrival of contemporary society spells a revolution, a break with the old traditional social order. Today, the change is rather continuous, however: "Rather than going into a post-modern period we are moving toward a period in which the consequences of modernity are becoming more radical and universal than previously" (Giddens 1996:14). Modernity's expansion, into "late modernity" or "high-modernity", is dependent on its extremely dynamic character and global range. The dynamism stems principally from three processes: the separation of time and space, the disembedding of social systems and the reflexive reorganisation of social relations. What Giddens wants to discuss is how time, space and social relations, the entire social system, to increasing degrees is uncoupled and "lifted out of its local contexts of interaction and restructured across unlimited areas of space in time" (Giddens 1996:29). There are particular mechanisms behind cultural uncoupling. These "disembedding mechanisms", such as money and the extensive system of expertise and technology, organise a large part of today's social and material world, separating social relationships from their concrete time and place-bound contexts and making it possible for people to interact across large distances in space and time. Much of what is usually described as post-modern "is in fact a matter of the experience of living in a world where absence and presence are mingled with each other in a historically new way" (Giddens 1996:165). New communication technology creates new relations, which render problematic the boundaries between every kind of social and geographic magnitude, country, region, grouping, "us" and "them”. In our case studies there are many examples of how objects, expressive forms, styles and social relations have been uncoupled from their original concrete contexts and thereby become accessible for use by people in other places, in other times, e.g. medieval music, internationalised Irish folk music, classic jazz and many other styles. "Context" should here be understood in the broadest possible way. It may be a group of people in a certain place and time. The didgeridoo's path from Arnhem Land to the Internet is an example of a shift from such a context to another, as is the nyckelharpa's path from Österbybruk in the northern Uppland's countryside to Seattle in the US. A context can also be a certain medium. Recording cassettes, just as today's MP3 format, makes it possible to disconnect music from the media to which they were originally tied so that they can be copied, de-mediaized and reused in new and unexpected ways.
Local Worlds and Global Motorways
The accelerating uncoupling is, at the same time, a cause and effect of increasing globalisation. An aspect of globalisation is the arisal of large-scale global structures, a sort of enormous motorway, which requires large organisations, investments, stability and continuity. Such are, for example, the telephone network and electricity grid and the system of pipelines for the world's oil supply but also the Internet, cable television, satellite transmissions, etc. On this level homogenisation, standardisation and even monopolisation are both created and presupposed. Yet at the same time, on another level, the rapidly growing motorways create extreme mobility. When objects, behaviours, styles and expressive forms are put up on them they are disconnected from their original contexts and become accessible to people in completely different places, for completely different purposes: there is more Irish folk music outside Ireland than inside; more jousting tournaments were held during the 1990s than during the entire Middle Ages; yodelling is as popular in Tokyo as it is in the Tyrol; classic jazz is more classic in Stockholm than in New Orleans. Homogenisation on one level creates space for diversification on another. A mobile society requires a stable infrastructure.
The ability of both capital and labour power to move (...) from place to place depends upon the creation of fixed, secure, and largely immobile social and physical infrastructures. The ability to overcome space is predicted on the production of space (Harvey 1985, cit. in Morley & Robins 1995:28)
A clear example from our case studies of the close interaction between the global and the local is how the rapid concentration of the music industry to a few global conglomerates has created a growing space for small local companies that exploit the areas and niches that are too small for the big companies. Another example is the amplification of local identities during recent decades, in itself a global phenomenon. The ideas about local identity as something important and desirable are globalised, like so many of the forms that are used to shape such local identities. All of the contexts we have studied -- individuals, groupings, institutions, places -- have in different quantities and to different extents access to technical systems, media, experts and other actors who can take them out onto the new global motorways, shift their horizons and make them accessible across large areas and over longer periods of time. Disconnected objects, forms, styles and behaviours play a decisive role in all of these contexts, which has brought fundamental changes to conditions in the Swedish musicscapes over a short period of time. It is highly likely that this will lead to rapid and great changes in the future.
But that which can be transferred from local to global can also be transferred in the opposite direction. Increased globalisation breeds increased localisation. A consequence of increased disconnection and globalisation is that objects, forms and styles are pushed back into a local context. Such localisation and relocalisation takes place, to a greater or lesser extent, in all of the contexts we have studied. A further example of the intimate interplay between globalisation and localisation is classic jazz. In the case study about the Dixie boys, it is apparent how musicians see themselves as members of an international "brotherhood" who all listen to the same recordings and the same artists and copy them to the best of their ability. A standardised repertoire has arisen that is played more or less the same everywhere. The music is thereby uncoupled from specific practitioners and a global aesthetic form arises, relatively independent of local prerequisites and differences. Precisely this relationship means that musicians can successfully play together even if they have never previously met. The canonised repertoire forms a solid system of rules and a collection of examples. With sufficient interest and competence anybody, anywhere, anytime can acquire the repertoire, style and codes. Standard repertoires of this kind disconnect music from their original contexts then, and make formal musical competency into a more important factor than local possession, origin. Formal musical competency is what makes hat has happened to classic jazz. Some of classic jazz's most important actors, arenas and contexts are today in Sweden. Irish musicians can be Scandinavians and North America is a strong bastion for nyckelharpists. Large and dispersed groupings of the sort we have studied are "perceived communities" (Anderson 1992). To become visible and "real" such communities must constantly be given form and dramatised. They must therefore get access to a set of key symbols around which to gather (Ortner 1964). Standard repertoires are one such necessary key symbol. Another can be especially famous or prominent people. Louis Armstrong is to the Dixie boys, what Carl Jularbo is to accordionists and Eric Sahlström is to the Nyckelharpa People. The potential such people represent as assets for a grouping becomes most apparent when they resist. As previously mentioned, Assyrian nationalists often express their disappointment that tennis star André Agassi and Iraq's foreign minister Tarik Aziz have not made their Assyrian origins public, which in their opinion would have given Assyrians as a collective increased attention capital. It is probable that conflicts over famous peoples' "real" origins will become more common as reality is increasingly interpreted from a cultural grouping perspective.
Even musical instruments can function as key symbols, which is the reason for large and expensive accordions being given such a prominent position in the accordion devotees' texts and pictures. In the same way, the nyckelharpa and steel pans are both instruments and key symbols in their respective groupings. It is generally the existence of such key symbols that enables a person to identify themselves with a perceived community at all. Key symbols function furthermore as an entrance ticket. Presumptive members must identify what the symbols are, acquire their meanings and how they should be handled and do so in a way that other members find acceptable. This presupposes such a large measure of interest, social contacts, competency, etc. that anyone who masters the key symbols and their use can easily by seen as already socialised into the community. The mastery of the key symbols thereby becomes simultaneously the goal of socialisation and the sign that a successful socialisation has actually taken place.¹ Global distribution disconnects a grouping's key symbols and means that competency and not common origin and direct interaction becomes decisive for their appropriation. It is precisely the mastery of key symbols that means, for example, that Swedish Dixie boys can recognise their peers wherever in the world they might encounter them.
Homogenisation and Objectification
A sequence that clearly emerges in several case studies is increased competency - professionalisation - homogenisation - formalisation - institutionalisation - objectification. The general expansion of music has led to increased numbers of practitioners and a higher competency in general. Expressive specialists are increasing in number and becoming increasingly specialised. For some of them it is becoming possible to live off their special expertise. In the wake of specialisation and professionalisation comes increased transparency and formalisation of repertoires and methods of play and performances, which leads to homogenisation. When a music type is formalised and homogenised to a certain level, writing textbooks, giving formal tuition in schools, etc. becomes meaningful. The book on the manufacture and tuning of steel pans that Ulf Kronman wrote has made it possible to make and tune steel pans without direct contact with specialists from Trinidad. The book means a formalisation and homogenisation of the knowledge that has partly led to a certain standardisation of the instrument's design (even in Trinidad) and partly could be the first step toward institutionalisation, e.g. in the form of steel pan courses at higher schools of music. Institutionalisation brings together, amplifies and completes the objectification of the music type that every stage in the sequence gives rise to. When practitioners that pass through the sequence reach a certain point, a crisis can occur that makes them reformulate old terms and key symbols. An example is the transformation undergone by folk music, which has resulted in there now being a corps of well-educated full or part-time professional folk musicians in Sweden in tandem with the old folk musicians. An increased formalisation and homogenisation, not only of repertoires and key symbols, but also of performance and style has followed in the wake of their activities. It is nowadays possible to make music constructed in accordance with models from the Middle East sound Swedish, as is apparent in the section on Swedish world music.
Objectification often means increased distinctiveness for groupings that strive for culturalisation. Leading Assyrians efforts to homogenise, formalise and institutionalise with the help of the Internet is a good example here. From Gabriel Assad, they inherited a music that was consciously created to be distinctively Assyrian. Today, when they attempt to take their place in different national and multicultural arenas with this music as a base, it is especially important for them that that which can be regarded as widely distributed musical structures, e.g. maqam-like modus, is presented as originally and exclusively Assyrian. All stages in the sequence contribute to increased homogenisation, which is a prerequisite for effective uncoupling and global distribution. This in turn is a prerequisite for effective relocalisation and for conscious blending of the sort that occurs in, for example, world music. However, it is precisely by making expressive forms accessible in new times and spaces that homogenisation and institutionalisation can initiate a process in the opposite direction, as is also apparent in the case studies. There is among some Swedish folk musicians an express dissatisfaction with the "academic sound" that folk musicians educated music is, among other things, that many medievalists have consciously gone in the other direction and celebrated amateurism and disrespectful mixes.
Distribution -- A Key Question
Uncoupling is one of the mechanisms that contribute to increased diversity. Despite the earth's resources being very unevenly distributed, more is still available to more people than ever previously. For the creation and maintenance of cultural diversity and multiculture, accessibility is the decisive factor and accessibility depends not so much on production as on distribution. As so many cultural researchers have pointed out, the key to lasting cultural diversity is not so much the production of culture as access to distribution.
Many groupings are dependent on access to certain products or expressive forms, which they regard as necessary for the maintenance of a real and credible life. As a consequence of music’s general expansion, the ”right” music, live or recorded, belong to these necessities. This also makes the groupings dependent on access to expressive specialists with the correct competency. A rapid and dramatic change, clear signs of which are seen in our case studies, is that access to products, expressive forms and specialists has increased because the groupings’ access to channels of distribution has increased. This has given them great possibilities for giving shape to the groupings' centre and boundaries and making them visible, both to themselves and to others, which not only increases social and cultural diversity in general but has decisive significance for the arisal of multiculture as a special type of organisation of social and cultural diversity. Access to channels of distribution is, however, unevenly distributed. The groupings' possibilities to acquire what they need are as a rule greater in cities, which is one reason that small deviating groupings, from immigrants to sexual minorities, are drawn there. One of the many problems people in national margins have to cope with is claimed to be a lack of distribution. In certain areas new communications technology has improved conditions considerably, while the problems in other areas remain or are even exacerbated. The case studies on Assyrians and Visby/Gotland give several good examples. The channels of distribution have not only increased in number but also become faster and more efficient. When the Greek chef at one of Visby's restaurants serves "Greek specialities", fresh fish, caught in Greece the same day, is included. The record retailer in a Stockholm suburb faxes his order for popular Turkish records to the distributor in Germany and a couple of days later he sells them in his shop. Access to records through Zorba's music store is greater and the distribution more rapid than in the Greek countryside. The pattern is similar for most types of grouping. This is a pronounced and dramatic change from the 1970s and 1980s. A common problem then was that fewer knew what was available and another was that even if you knew what to look for, it could not easily be acquired. Today, certain migrants with the necessary resources have increased the availability of products and expressive forms in demand by establishing new centres of production and distribution in their new homelands.
Several Swedish towns are today centres for the production and distribution of Iranian and Assyrian records.
Developed channels of distribution and special "search engines" that are constantly searching for new channels have improved possibilities for ethnic and other kinds of grouping to gain access to the products and expressive forms they use as representative emblems. As mentioned, this is a cause of both diversity and multiculture becoming more visible. But at the same time the opportunities have increased for others to appropriate these emblems, which create problems with rights (ownership, copyright) and with the maintenance of the grouping's identity and boundaries.
The amount of products and forms and the number of distribution channels make knowledge of where these products are located of value. In our case studies there are many examples of people who live on their specialist knowledge of distribution channels: a Norwegian distributor of Swedish old-time dance, a vendor of Latin-American records, a western Swedish distributor of classic jazz, to name but a few. Via informal channels and their own resources, the proprietors of Solkristallen in Visby have gained direct channels throughout the world to producers of new age-related jewellery, books, CDs and much more, which has made them more or less independent of large national distributors. Their motivation is independence, to be their own, a bit different, not to follow the beaten track. The new communication technology and the knowledge of where they can access their products make it possible for them to set up a shop with a highly globalised content in the small town of Visby and live on the proceeds. A great deal has, then, become more accessible, which has radically changed the situation for every kind of grouping. As we have seen, the number of members belongs without question to the fundamental structural conditions for the grouping's existence, for greater resources generally come with increased membership. However, the increased access to distribution has made the "critical mass" significantly lower than before. Very small groupings can today gain access to the products, forms and expertise they need in order to create sufficient credibility and status to survive.
Uncoupling makes boundaries problematic, which can give rise to new constellations of time, space and social relations. It is clear in a number of contexts that we investigated that it is not at all certain in advance what will, can or should happen. Instead visitors investigate conditions in the course of the actual interplay. Sometimes it is possible to see how those who interact strain to maintain the uncertainty for as long as possible, for the pleasure of exploration. What is lacking is a clearly expressed goal, a common "because", and it is that which makes it exciting. With a term borrowed from Donald Woods Winnicott, such as yet vaguely defined surfaces for social interaction can be denoted as potential spaces. In Winnicott the term appears in connection with an argument on how children explore the surrounding world in ever wider circles through play, further and further from the mother. What he calls "the place for cultural experiences" belongs neither to the inner psychic reality nor to the outer reality but arises as a possibility between subject and object (Winnicott 1981:130). It is this possibility he names "potential space". While the outer "objectively given" world and the inner subjective are relatively constant, the potential space between them is a highly variable factor. Where there is trust and reliability there is a potential space, according to Winnicott. "The special character of this place, where play and cultural experiences exist, is that its existence depends on living experiences, not on handed down tendencies" (Winnicott 1981:139). At which can happen in favourable circumstances is that the potential space can be filled with the results of the child's own imagination (Winnicott 1981:131). It is not difficult to transfer Winnicott's arguments from individual to collective, from child to adult, from psychology to theories of culture. Accelerating technological developments, increased migration, increased mobility in the labour market and increased segregation between, for example, different ethnic groups have forced more people to replace well-known everyday realities with the new and unknown. The loss of that which they previously took for granted in life can make them set off to conquer new surfaces for interaction, which in favourable circumstances can be developed to potential spaces.
A general tendency seems to be that potential spaces are increasing in number. They are also becoming more common, not least because it is precisely in vaguely defined spaces with low levels of formalisation and focus that new expressive forms, among them music, easily arise. An example from our case studies is "the Middle Ages", which has been playfully exploited by the medievalists but which also is slowly but surely being filled with routines and order. The "Middle Ages" is already well on its way to being transformed from a surface for free play, a potential space, to a number of solid and well defined arenas where fixed versions of the Middle Ages are presented. Another example is when steelbands throughout Europe create a network and in Paris 2000 presented the first large-scale European steelband festival. This is made possible because they all proceed from the same type of instrument and repertoire and because the Caribbean forms a common horizon. The problem is to transform models from the Caribbean and all of the different European countries into a functioning event. This more or less forces the participants to put on the festival while they are still fully occupied with investigating how to make it work. A third example is the growing number of pensioners. Today's pensioners largely lack models from which to proceed. The elderly in former times had completely different points of departure, resources and possibilities.² When pensioners today start to meet in connection with activities to which they did not previously devote themselves, at least not to the extent that is now taking place, new potential spaces arise that in favourable circumstances can be filled with "the products of their imaginations". A large and varied range of music and dance are included here (Ronström 1997). It is when this space is afterwards fixed and goes over to "pensioner culture" that the need for representative emblems arises. As we noted earlier, the accordion is well on its way to becoming such an emblem for Swedish senior citizens.
A Dilemma for the Music Industry
When objects and forms are moved onto global motorways and spread over large areas, problems arise with on the one hand boundaries and on the other the control and use of rights. A clear example is given by the transnational music industry. It is of great importance for the music industry to control production and distribution of packaged music. In order to guarantee control, the music industry attempts to establish technologies that demand great investments. Already from the start the industry was concentrated to a handful of groups because patents on inventions like the phonograph and gramophone prevented competition. There are, however, sectors of industry outside the control of the transnational music industry that develop low-price technology for the mediation of music. Sometimes theses developers of low-price technology manage to catch up with the music industry and a control crisis is the result. The music industry has so far managed to resolve these crises by launching new, high-cost technology. When, around 1950, the tape recorder made possible the home recording of significantly longer pieces of music than the 78 rpm's three minutes, the music industry launched the LP record. When in the 1970s cassette technology made recording and mass-production cheap, the music industry launched CD technology and digital recording technique. Today, the music industry is once again in such a crisis. Home computers, CD etchers, MP3 files and the Internet have made digital recording, the mass reproduction of recordings and their distribution cheap. To keep control the music industry must once again launch a change in the system. This time, however, it will probably be difficult to launch a new high-cost technology that is sufficiently superior to induce consumers to choose it instead of available low-price technology. This time the industry seems instead to be focusing on attempts to manipulate the copyright system. This strategy was already launched to a limited extent during the last control crisis. Before the crisis was resolved by the introduction of the CD, the record companies strengthened their rights and protection against pirate copying made possible by cassette technology with the phonogram convention of 1971. At the same time, record companies began acquiring independent music publishers in order to also become the owners of the publishing rights and thereby gain great influence in national copyright organisations such as the Swedish Performing Rights Society (STIM).
During the last few years, the music industry has again taken up the offensive in the area of copyright and established a number of extensions for the periods of protection. A prerequisite for this has been that the industry has been able to put forward their demands via national copyright organisations and in this way hide behind composers and writers of lyrics. Over the past year the industry has been working hard to make the World Trade Organisation begin to regulate copyright, while at the same time a lot of energy has been devoted to getting courts across the world to interpret the law in the industry's favour. This extension of rights has to date been able to take place practically without opposition. As a result of the measures that have been implemented, copyright has been shifted from protecting literary and artistic work (intellectual property) to protecting the music industry's investments. Now, however, both politicians and the guardians of the public interest are beginning to bring this corruption of copyright's original purpose to light. The question then is: will the transnational music industry be able to keep control over music's mediation through extended copyright and judicial measures that lead to precedents in national courts? If the industry is not successful it will probably lose control this time, which would mean that an entirely new structure would be able to emerge in the music business.
From Knowers to Doers
In our case studies we see pronounced traces of a general shift of control and power over the expressive forms around which groupings gather. An example is the shift of power over the Middle Ages that has taken place during the 1990s. The knowers had previously more or less a monopoly on the Middle Ages through being able to control access to first-hand sources e.g. unique and valuable incunabulum in special research libraries. The generally available knowledge of the Middle Ages was characterised therefore by the researchers' special interests and filtered through their perspective. Very little was produced of the sort of knowledge potential doers needed in order to stage their versions of the Middle ages, while there were huge amounts of, for them, uninteresting debates on interpretation and discussions of origins. During the 1990s, the knowers' monopoly on knowledge has been broken, as many of these sources have been made available as transcripts or facsimiles on the Internet. In the hands of growing bands of doers, the sources have rapidly been transformed into practical handbooks by being furnished with simple and solid instructions of the "do-it-yourself" type. One example is Thoinot Arbeau's Orchesographie from 1589, one of few substantial sources on dance fashions from the late Middle Ages to the Renaissance. For almost three centuries it was only accessible to a small number of researchers. Between the 1880s and the 1970s it was produced in a number of limited editions. During the 1990s the book was scanned in and put on the Internet by several people independent of one another who were associated with the growing group of people interested in the Middle Ages around the world. These people are generally little interested in critical discussions on interpretation but all the more interested in how they themselves are able to practise the dances that are described. Instructions with dance steps, music, tips on suitable clothing and shoes, etc. have therefore been produced -- "do this and have fun in a medieval way" -- that anyone can download. As a result of this rapid development, it is now possible during Medieval Week in Visby to see young enthusiasts in medieval dress heartily staging their homemade versions of dances that have hardly been danced for several hundred years to newly written songs or the music they happen to have handy. A faithful reproduction of "the original" is not central but rather the sensual experience that doing gives them. There are many similar examples in which the Internet makes accessible both original sources, recipes for what they can be used for and, not least, in-depth discussions on how the best results are achieved, i.e. the strongest experiences. On accordion home pages there are old original recordings with Calle Jularbo; Caribbean groupings across the world can follow the carnival in Trinidad via live images distributed on the Internet; Assyrians have in their homeland in cyberspace put up sources for Assyrian history, geography, language, music and folklore in writing, images and sounds. All of the groupings and contexts we have studied have to a greater or lesser degree, in similar ways, acquired increased direct access to the "sources" for their activities. The knowers' loss of the monopoly over sources has two aspects: the first is reduced control over the supply of primary sources; the second is reduced control over the definitions of content, meaning and significance, what is genuine, right and good. In the example of the music industry, we saw how the record companies' strategy for regaining control has been to develop new technology but that it is now more directed to taking control of copyright. We have not seen any equivalent strategies for knowers to reassume interpretative pre-eminence and power in our material. The control crisis that is arising cannot lead to much other than marginalisation and loss of symbolic and economic capital. However, instead doers have gained completely new prerequisites and opportunities. When, for example, Assyrians acquire direct access and control via the Internet over the sources for Assyrian history, it also becomes possible for them to acquire alternative interpretations of this history that do not also agree with the ones the rest of Academia feel should apply.
The development of the concept of folk music in Sweden also allows itself to be described as a shift from knowers to doers and makers. The folk music concept was created at the close of the 18 century on the initiative of knowers and was negotiated forth over a long period of time in dialogues between knowers and doers. At the end of the 19th century, it had been cemented to national symbols. And so it remained until the 1970s, when a new generation of young enthusiasts focused on doing, shifted power over the concept's content from the exclusive national stages to large popular open-air festivals. Young fiddle players invaded museums and archives, not to conduct research and produce writings on tone, but to acquire material for their playing. They produced new interpretations of the records that not only gave rise to new ringing versions of "Swedish folk music" but also to new conceptions of this folk music, which would have been easily dismantled if they had been forced to pass through the filter of the research world. However, this did not occur. The practitioners took control not only of practice but also of what the practice should denote, represent and mean. Swedish folk music thereby took a completely new path. With the popularisation of folk music during the 1970s and 1980s, there followed the growth of what was for folk music in practice a completely new corps of makers: record producers, festival arrangers, managers. In a short period of time they acquired control over central arenas and media. Their perspective soon came into conflict with those who were previously supreme and the result was that new folk music concepts arose that in conscious contrast to the old have been named, for example, "FUP" (short for folk music without police), "modern folk music" and "world music".
The growth among doers has generally led to increases in the numbers of makers, of which we have seen many examples, e.g. in the case study on medievalists and early musicists. Many makers have begun as doers. In some groupings, such as surrounding the nyckelharpa, it is among the makers and not among the doers that we today find the most dedicated enthusiasts. What they wish to achieve with their enthusiasm is typically enough increased visibility, status and legitimacy, firstly for the nyckelharpa, secondly for the music type and lastly for themselves. The general shift from knowers to doers and makers also corresponds to a movement from knowing to experiencing. This development is part of an extensive trend in many areas that can be summarised as "from informative to performative" (c.f. Kirschenblatt-Gimblett 1998). What many researchers have pointed out is how, for example, museums, schools, TV and radio programmes of recent years have increasingly been directed to the production of sensuality, experience and affect at the cost of the previously so central intellectual reconnaissance and learning. When experiences are placed in the foreground, the object is transformed to an instrument for the experiencing subject, the observer. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, that which is beheld is reduced to a tool for the individual's experiences. The object, e.g. music, is of interest for as long as it continues to provide experiences, which spurs an increase in music's levels of expression. As was emphasised in the introduction, aesthetic evaluation is one of the most common and well-liked post-modern strategies for living. Aesthetics and not morals and knowledge, then, become the leading principle for how life itself should be valued (Bauman 1994). These shifts, from knower to doer and maker and from knowing to the results and effects of doing and making (experiences, performances), mean a new order in the power structures surrounding the production and handling of knowledge that in all certainty will have many and extensive consequences in the future. The content of the news media, museum exhibitions, courses and education of different sorts are decided increasingly by the public's need of experiences and the sponsor's need of attention and not by journalist's, museum curator's or teacher's ambitions and professional values. The commercial handling of cultural forms of expression will increase as will those undertaken for non-commercial purposes (e.g. opinion-making). It will give significantly increased space to makers with expertise within the areas of marketing, benefits and grants systems and lobbying.
The Altered Significance of the Nation
Globalisation and localisation are intimately associated processes that mean a shift in people's horizons, in part upwards in level toward transnational contexts, and in part "downwards", toward local and regional contexts. The intermediate levels, such as national organisations and institutions, can through these processes be "emptied" of content and have become reduced in significance. Once again, the Swedish Broadcasting Corporation is a clear example. When, during recent decades, the radio channels and stations have increased in number and both "the nation" and "the Swedish people" have become more problematic, broadcasting has also become problematic. When commercial radio moves toward increased streamlining in its hunt for advertisers and selected groups of listeners, and when, at the same time, interest and origins groupings, diaspora congregations and networks with their different areas of expansion, listener habits and needs demand a place on the airwaves, then narrowcasting becomes a more natural model. The old national public service radio thereby loses importance and the power to penetrate and is forced into radical changes of its goals and methods, which leads to protests form groupings, which thereby lose their visibility, such as has been the case for devotees of the accordion and classic jazz. Other national institutions have been "emptied" of content in recent decades in similar ways. The reduced significance of the nation, its imminent death even, is a common theme in discussions of post-modernity. A more realistic image is probably that nations, as always, are in the midst of change. If some national sectors and functions decline in significance then others are made stronger. Many Swedes have expanded their fields of activity and horizons far beyond the nation's borders. The only grouping we have studied with a pronounced national horizon are the accordionists. Practically everyone who was interviewed in connection with the case study on Visby/Gotland had their own personal experiences of and referred to distant worlds, whether it was the guitarist with successes in China, medievalists who are in daily contact with SCA members in other parts of the world, or gospel singers with close contacts with the US southern states. Among practitioners of classic jazz, hip hop and Caribbean music, transnational horizons are built into the actual point of departure, but also among practitioners of domestic music types, such as nyckelharpa music, the horizons have been tangibly broadened. However, at the same time as this rapid expansion, the national horizon has in certain areas (e.g. sport) been noticeably strengthened through conscious Swedification.
The national systems of grants and benefits for associations are an example of national structures with a decisive role for groupings. The body of associations in Sweden has long been very strong. Despite many signals of increased difficulties in recruiting active members, much of Swedes' activities are still channelled through associations. Despite reduced provisions, the association, still enjoy societal support in the form of access to premises, benefits for labour, membership support, cheaper membership mail-outs via the post office, etc.
That is why many activities are run in the form of associations when they might just as well have been conducted in other ways. Many immigrants groups in Sweden have quickly formed associations, while their countrymen and relatives who have emigrated to other lands have more often organised the same type of activities, e.g. music and dance, in other ways (Ronström 1992).
Institutionalisation and New Networks
Networks are a form of organisation that in recent years have also been established in Sweden and might eventually replace many associations. But associations and networks are also often intimately interwoven: many networks are networks of associations. Yilmaz Kerimos' more than 3,000 personal electoral votes in the parliamentary election of 1998 were enough to have him elected as Sweden's first Assyrian Member of Parliament. By using the Assyria network it was not difficult for Kerimo to reach the required number of votes. For many Assyrians, Kerimos' Social Democratic party membership was secondary. In this way, transnational groupings can exploit national structures to increase visibility and space. In some areas the national level is on the verge of completely losing its significance. This applies in particular to authorities that have functioned as national gatekeepers that must be passed on the route from transnational to local contexts. The most pronounced example of the national level losing its significance is perhaps to be found in the area of the media, where it is now completely impossible for gatekeepers on a national level to govern or limit content. Another example that has already been touched upon is reduced control of knowers over the sources of knowledge. The national universities, research libraries and other institutions that apportioned them their control functions are today increasingly competing with other centres of knowledge and can therefore no longer maintain their previously so important filtration function. Another example is dance teachers. The knowledge of dance has traditionally been transferred through copying. Dance teachers have previously been able to act as style police and control the spread of dance fashions. It was not just tones and steps that were imprinted through education but also the definition of what was good and bad, which styles and forms were socially acceptable and which were not. Dance schools have therefore long been given an important role in the fostering of new generations in the upper echelons of society. Via TV, video and increased travel, dance teachers have today more or less lost their ability to control what should be taught and how the result should be judged. The increased knowledge and experience of students means that teachers cannot offer anything other than what presumptive students already know and ask for.
The Reduced Role in Public Cultural Debate
A further example of how the national level can be emptied of content is given in the Swedish Royal Academy of Music. For two centuries the Academy has been an important actor in music. By being able to control the production and distribution of cultural capital, which has generated a significant economic capital to, among other things, scholarship funds, the Academy has been able to point out musical life's centre and peripheries. At a presentation of the organisation before representatives of Gothenburg University in March 1995, the Academy's Permanent Secretary, Bengt Holmstrand, said that in the 1950s a development began that shifted the Academy "from being a state authority and centre in Swedish musical life to an increasingly obsolete position as a free institution in an increasingly pluralistic world." Today, the Academy must struggle for space, proselytes and practitioners with increasing numbers of musical worlds. At the same time the musical unfaithful, who switch between groupings and music styles and who sometimes consciously try to blend them, have increased in number. The old centre still has access to cultural capital but the currency is accepted in ever fewer of the many music groupings and at increasingly unfavourable exchange rates. The Academy has also a considerable economic capital at its disposal but it is nothing to that generated by the music industry. at which previously was fundamental in the house of music, the "grand tradition", art music, is now but one of the pillars in a rapidly growing and increasingly less perspicuous hall of pillars. The agreement on an overarching order that meant one could without hinder talk of "musical life" and "cultural life" in the singular is disintegrating more and more. It is increasingly difficult today to see how any musical authority could introduce a measure that would include all of musical life. That which instead emerges is a mass of more or less isolated islands, each with its "cultural life" that needs to be made visible. "Cultural politics" are thereby transformed from general measures across the entire societal arena to struggles for resources and space between different "cultures". Representatives of "the grand tradition" are also forced to present art music as one among many neglected forms of culture in need of particular attention and societal support. There are many factors at work behind this development. One is that, as music has become everyman's property it has simultaneously, in a certain respect, been trivialised. With the expansion of music and its shift from Sunday pleasure to workaday life, its position in intellectual public discussion has been increasingly marginalised.² Composers and musicologists, who during the growth of the middle-class general public in Sweden belonged to the centre of society, today belong to the periphery. At the same time, few have as much space in the general public as musicians but this space is not conditioned by cultural capital but by visibility, the main currency in a growing economy of attention.
This development can also in part be explained by a shift from knower to doer and maker. The doers' and makers' powerful expansion in the area of music has meant great growth in knowledge in areas such as music and computers, or how to promote music for special target groups.¹ The academic knowledge has not expanded to anywhere near the same extent, which has led to it being increasingly insignificant for the majority of actors in the area of music.