A manuscript and a recording

The Uhrovska manuscript originated in the 1730s and was named after a Slovak town. It comprises various dance pieces notated for the violin. This collection of melodies would have been useful to the primases – or leaders – of bands in Hungary, Slovakia and elsewhere. Debates about Romani authorship of or influence over these musical pieces exemplify the historiographical challenge of extricating Romani creativity from popular ideas of “Gypsiness”.

This debate has been reflected in modern performance practice in recordings such as Telemann: The Baroque Gypsies by Ensemble Caprice under the direction of Matthias Maute. The sleeve notes of this recording make the argument that the Uhrovska manuscript somehow represents the musical practice of the “gypsies” – written, as here, with the potentially de-ethnicising lower-case “G”.

As individuals, Romani musicians have been largely invisible throughout their history to scholars, promoters and even audience members. Their music has been heard – and not infrequently mislabelled as either “non-Gypsy” or “Gypsy” in origin – but their personal identities and compositional processes have been more frequently imagined by outsiders than actually perceived and understood.

The Uhrovska collection and its interpretations provide a multi-layered example of how Roma and the music they have played are ignored, caricatured, idealised and used for any number of commercial or psychological purposes.

Projections of non-Romani desires

Although Roma were at times subject to state-sanctioned slavery, additional taxation and/or capital punishment based simply on their origin, scholar James Scott rightly considers them to be one of those groups that have sometimes eluded the authority of the state.

The ways in which this supposed independence from governance is imagined, in reference to the laws of the state, religion or culture, have almost always betrayed more about the non-Romani author than about the people being represented.

The Ensemble Caprice presents an unfettered version of Baroque music by channelling what one might believe to be Romani culture, even if the currently verifiable Romani elements are limited to elements such as the attack of the bow in combination with gritty string timbres; neither technique is exclusive to Roma.

Yet, despite the certainty of the Ensemble Caprice about the “Gypsiness” of the Uhrovska manuscript, a lengthy recent article about the manuscript lacks even a single mention of Roma. Instead, it speculates about whether the manuscript represents Slovak or Hungarian culture.

Tracing and chasing Romani ghosts

The introductory essays accompanying the facsimile shed no more light on the subject. Does this mean the Romani influence on – or compositional role in – the Uhrovska manuscript is entirely imagined?

In order to tackle this question, it is important to understand that there are four fundamental aspects to the way Roma fit into history. The first way may be described as a vacuum. Since Roma were for the most part illiterate (although there were exceptions), almost all of their utterances from before the 20th century, other than song texts, have vanished. If they do exist, it is almost always in the documents of others, that is, characterized by outsiders.

The second mode is that of contestation. Hungarians, Slovaks, Russians, Czechs and Spaniards dispute whether particular contributions (anything from cimbalom pieces to flamenco) represent Romani musicianship or are simply reflections of a local or national style, played and sometimes “distorted” by the Roma as hired hands.

The third mode, “Gypsiness”, is the one with which many are familiar: a complex realm of overwrought fantasy where Roma become repositories for all those things the surrounding culture either wishes to intensify or cannot own up to, usually, though not entirely, related to sex with illogical ideas of freedom thrown in for good measure.

“observing by looking away”

It is a version of the classic relationship between dominant and subaltern groups; thus, this third mode involves something that might be called paradoxically “observing by looking away”. That is, the creators of “Gypsiness” essentially do not want to know the truth about Roma and whatever “they” are doing “over there”.

Finally, there is the pernicious mode, illustrated most recently by travesties like the television series My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding and involving defamatory representations of Romani people.

For better or for worse, as all historians know, faith cannot be removed from historical writing. We do not know with any degree of certainty what role Roma played in the development of Western so-called “common musical practice”, but most of those who have studied the evidence believe there was an important connection.

Thus, a group that has always formed a discursive periphery has, in fact, been at the centre of attention at certain times and for certain historical figures.

There is, as it happens, some firm evidence of Roma in the Uhrovska manuscript. One short passage, numbered 230 in the catalogue, is marked “Czigany” (Romani). To an outsider’s eye, it is an ungainly piece, perhaps so odd that the Ensemble Caprice overlooked it. It is unclear what the designation means – whether it is a piece called “The Romani Dance” or something notated after the compiler had heard a Romani musician perform.

It is difficult to say from a musicological perspective precisely what role the Roma played in the 18th century, but without a doubt they helped to shape the musical mainstream even then.

Rights held by: Michael Beckerman — Petra Gelbart | Licensed by: Michael Beckerman — Petra Gelbart | Licensed under: CC-BY-NC-ND 4.0 International | Provided by: RomArchive