Rock bands and cultural appropriation

Last month, one of my favorite new bands encountered a bit of a controversy in the college music circuit, a scene typically known for its support for independent artists. Ivan Krasnov, a promoter for the Oberlin College venue Dionysus Disco, canceled a show scheduled for March 14by the band Viet Cong, claiming in an apology letter that the name was “grosslyignorant” and “deeply offensive.”

After reading this news, I first identified with what I saw as a serious artistic group bold enough to choose a subversive and attention-grabbing name. However, as I looked more into the band’s comments on the name and some responses, I realized that Krasnov was justified in criticizing a group with a truly insensitive and problematic name, as first generation Vietnamese-American Sang Nguyen powerfully argues. As it turns out, the name actually originates from an off-handed racist comment.

But beyond this insensitivity, Krasnov argues that the name is “blatantly appropriative.” “The fact that the band openly acknowledges their problematic name, yet fails to change it or do anything about it,” Krasnov writes, “highlights this blatantly appropriative move, reinforcing a tradition of American (and Western) orientalism and appropriation."

To me, it seems like a stretch to connect an independent rock band with marginal name recognition in certain hipster circles to a narrative of Western orientalism — especially while hugely successful pop stars dress as geishas or don Hindu symbols. Or, for that matter, as Americans unthinkingly help themselves to Westernized yoga and “Chinese” food. While this band chose to appropriate an element of Far Eastern culture with a particular baggage of trauma, our society seems saturated with varying degrees of appropriation of elements from many historically marginalized cultures. And while some, like yoga, may be perfectly innocuous, other instances can be harmful in exoticizing or exploiting the identity of the cultural other.

The cancellation of this performance, from a group that falls far from the mainstream, may not represent much of a challenge to cultural imperialism (and were I an Oberlin student, I honestly would have liked to see the band). Still, the incident seems important to me as sign of a shift in conversation about the way we consider the cultural other. It seems fitting to me that Krasnov cites the Oberlin protests in his apology letter, because it signals what to me represents a more recent development; while political imperialism has been an inescapable subject of conversation at Oberlin since at least the days of their anti-Vietnam War protests, cultural imperialism is now becoming a common reference point on other campuses as well. Krasnov’s actions suggest a promising engagement with a hugely important issue.

Another recent and more visible controversy suggests the importance of symbolic imperialism: the University of California, Irvine student government’s vote to ban flags of any country in their office lobby. In this case, the actions of a few students have been hugely overblown in the public reaction, but it stills serves to highlight the question inherent to discussions about cultural appropriation: to what extent can symbols be normalizing or oppressive? Which symbols become problematic in certain contexts, whether from the mainstream (the U.S. flag) or from the marginalized (“Viet Cong”)?

The negotiation of cultural spaces and the distinction between exchange and appropriation are complex and ambiguous, but most importantly, necessary. Especially for all of us young college students with limited experience outside academic environments, especially those of us coming from places of privilege, these issues are important. How and when do we deal with the problematic aspects of another culture’s history or identity? When do we overstep into cultural appropriation as we use elements of the other’s history or identity as part of our own art or study?

Still, there are less ambiguous cases when students cross the line, such as the recent Urban Congo fiasco (which to me barely even qualifies as cultural appropriation — it’s more an issue of plain racial ignorance and insensitivity). And despite the gray area, I think that we can find some helpful examples of true cultural appropriation. For that, we need look no further than Azalea, the biggest Australian rap star in entertainment. As Brittney Cooper points out, “Iggy profits from the cultural performativity and forms of survival that Black women have perfected, without having to encounter and deal with the social problem that is the Black female body.”

Most importantly, we should be sensitive to the perspectives of those at the other end of exploitative appropriation. Since Krasnov acted on the advice of the Vietnamese Student Association at Oberlin, I’ll give him credit despite my fandom. So while the cancellation of a hipster band’s performance may not be the most productive response to cultural imperialism, it nevertheless represents a meaningful engagement with an important conversation. We could all stand to be more aware of the presence of cultural appropriation and, above all, to be wary of faux-Native American headresses and Iggy Azalea.

Max Grear is a freshman from Wakefield, R.I. He can be reached at mgrear@princeton.edu.