Beat Artifacts: Clyde Stubblefield and the Pillage of Roman Art
In the 18th century, the Bourbons raided the ancient city of Herculaneum, entombed in the 79 AD eruption of Mt. Vesuvius. Their intention was not archaeological, but rather a ruthless pursuit or Roman art. In recent excavations, evidence was found of hacked frescoes: art not taken for examination for historical and cultural context, but for the loot.
This is an interesting analog to music sampling: if you take a piece of something and incorporate it into another work are you using it as the Bourbons did, or as an 'archaeologist' studying its historical cultural contexts?
Intellectual property may or may not exist solely for use in derivative works as fair use, depending on the intentions of the artist doing the appropriating. The Bourbons must have cherished the pilfered artifacts in their palaces, but the use was decorative, and was not used as a source material. It was more artistic taxidermy than appropriation.
Ironically, the stealing of art, regardless of its intention, may in fact serve to rescue it from obscurity, or to legitimize work that previous had no particular claim to fame. In a sense, the taking of art gives it a long(er) tail. Ultimately, now that we can examine the acts of the Bourbons we can give consideration of the contexts and give proper reverence to the artists and artisans that created them, or if taking or using art is patently wrong.
The recent poster boy of the music sampling debate is drummer Clyde Stubblefield. Are the artists that use his 'Funky Drummer' drum loop aware of its provenance? Like the hacked frescoes the beats have low intrinsic value, and since the artists are old or dead, they are free for the taking (ostensibly).
Musicians in the 50s and 60s typically saved up their money to buy their first instrument, usually a copy or an off-brand, and may have taken music lessons. There was a whole structure in that era that was supported by the idea that if you worked, saved, studied and persevered you could succeed. To this day these ideas are evergreen, even in the face of controvertible circumstances, both in the sense of the nobility of hard work, and the new free culture. We champion ideas of self-sufficiency and self-reliance, while totally relying on things being made for us at no cost.
The spirit of the copyright law has served to give creators some control over their work, but typically this control is ceded to larger entities more inclined to apply the letter of the law, for purposes of maximizing statutory and punitive damages--a payday for both claimant and counsel--or not.
Remember 'The Record Deal'? It is amazing and almost comical that this idea still survives. Even when a record deal was a big deal, bands never made any money until they toured for several years and were on their third album. In the case of side men like Stubblefield, many performed as works-for-hire or as ordinary union gigs with no royalties or residuals. Even with proper attribution they still were gypped out of potential royalties.
Comparing ancient and modern times, this may not be much different from the artist/artisan relationships in first-century Herculaneum, and use of the work later on.
But if we can't give artisans a copyright symbol, at least give them a footnote in history.
