Music Education Research

Vol. 9, No. 2, July 2007, pp. 281
292

Acts of hospitality: the community in

Community Music
Lee Higgins*
The Liverpool Institute of Performing Arts, Liverpool, UK

This article will investigate the notion of ‘community’ within the aspirations of Community Music.
Guiding this study are the questions: How is community made manifest through Community
Music? What joins the notion of community to that of music? Two distinct sections will frame this
research: (1) an etymological consideration of the word ‘community’, followed by a rethinking of its
status as a hospitable act of welcoming; and (2) a case study that examples a vision of Community
Music as an act of hospitality. The article will conclude by suggesting that this act of hospitality
serves to remind us of the broader theme of music education, equality and social justice.

Introduction
Community Music, as understood in the UK, traces back to the community arts
movement of the early 1970s. As an expression of cultural democracy,1 a doctrine of
empowerment and a tool for action, those working within Community Music
focused their attention on music-making outside of formal educational institutes.
This was particularly evident in its critiques towards the Arts Council and the
education establishment, both seen as custodians of high art, and, therefore,
continuing the oppression of a working-class musical vernacular. The erratic world
of grant-aid and project funding resulted in the majority of community musicians
assuming freelance status, with the imperative to generate funding a constant
concern.
Dictated to by the capitalist imperative, practitioners developed a rich tapestry of
projects, but found it difficult to find the time and space to critically reflect on their
activities. The inheritance of this ‘tradition’ has meant a general void in scholarly and
academic writings pertaining to Community Music. This vacuum has most recently
come to the fore with the growing interest from universities in providing both
undergraduate and postgraduate programmes in Community Music. As a response
to this, and a belief that Community Music has much to add to any debate
surrounding music education generally, my recent research interests have involved
problematizing assumptions and ideas common to the community musician, such as
participation, context, pedagogy, and community.

*The Liverpool Institute of Performing Arts, Mount St., Liverpool, L1 9HF, UK. Email:
l.higgins@lipa.ac.uk
ISSN 1461-3808 (print)/ISSN 1469-9893 (online)/07/020281-12
# 2007 Taylor & Francis
DOI: 10.1080/14613800701384441
282 L. Higgins

As a contentious term, community is both problematic and powerful. Any

definition of the term ‘community’ remains elusive. Expressions of community
vary, but one of the strongest manifestations is that of the romantic echoes of loss and
recovery. These sentiments have propelled a utopian vision of community as a radical
alternative to the prevailing order, reflecting the modern release of the individual
from the traditional ties of class, religion, and kinship. Accordingly, the emancipation
of the human spirit as an Enlightenment trajectory has championed the free person,
but at the cost of increased disenchantment and alienation. Orientating itself around
these sentiments, community arts engaged in a critique that promoted a yearning for
the romantic associations of a utopian community (Braden, 1978; Kelly, 1984;
Greater, 1986; Sheldon, 1986; Brook, 1988).
The socialist enterprise of Community Music is rooted within this vision, and my
own experience suggests that the general use of the term ‘community’ is a ratification
of Community Music’s participatory ethos. Thus, the term ‘community’ designates
methods of practice, such as the extensive use of creative groupwork through
facilitation. Meaningful collaborations between participants have emphasized Com-
munity Music’s focus on groupwork rather than the individual per se. As a
consequence, the community in Community Music advertises emphases towards
active and creative musical doing, whilst politically resisting any institutional
stranglehold.

Community
‘Community’ is etymologically untangled in several ways. In the German word
Gemeinschaft [community],2 Kant (1998) makes a distinction in Latin between
communio, an exclusive sharing space protected from the outside, and commercium,
the processes of exchange and communication. Gerard Delanty (2003) begins his
excellent analysis with communitas [Latin], as the expression of belonging,
irreducible to any social or political arrangement. William Corlett (1995) considers
two different strands: firstly communis,3 as in ‘with oneness or unity’, and secondly,
communus,4 emphasizing the doing of one’s duty (p. 18). Philip Alperson’s (2002)
definition of community articulates a state of being held in common; he advocates an
understanding that is both ontological and structural, referring to community as a
relation between things. In the field of anthropology, the term is usefully isolated with
three broad variants: (1) common interests between people; (2) a common ecology
and locality; or (3) a common social system or structure (Rapport & Overing, 2000).
Anthropological and sociological excavations reveal a variety of perspectives,
charting the term’s changing pattern of application and understanding (Augé,
1995; Amit & Rapport, 2002; Childs, 2003; Vila, 2005). The idea of ‘difference’ is
often used as a guiding idea in tackling tensions found between fixed social and
political relations within communal frames, and the considerable pressures towards
individuation and fragmentation. Under the Lyotardian (1988) pursuit of new
 Acts of hospitality 283

modes and idioms through which to interact with the incommensurable, many
contemporary expressions of community can be deemed postmodern.
Illustrative of the postmodern perspective, Delanty (2003) suggests four categories
in which one might reconsider community today: collective identities,5 contextual
fellowship,6 liminal communities,7 and virtual communities.8 Amit and Rapport
(2002) expand on these notions to include fellowship and social belonging through
modest daily practice. These include friends, neighbors, workmates and companions
of leisure, parenting, schooling, political activities, etc. Although these communities
are often partial and limited in time, they can transcend the original circumstances of
their formation. When the term community is opened this way, the phrase
community without unity seems an apt one.9 This conception reminds us of our
responsibility and commitment to what I will call ‘the welcome’. This mark of
unconditional hospitality, this promise, is the idea to which I now turn.

Hospitality
Throughout the work of Jacques Derrida, there has been a reluctance to speak in
terms of community.10 For Derrida, the notion of community as oneness or unity
evokes a fortress wall surrounding a city, and the refusal of any reception with
strangers or foreigners. The communality at the heart of community provides
internal contradictions for Derrida. The very concept of the ‘common’ (commun)
and the ‘as-one’ (comme-un) in community lies behind Derrida’s unwillingness to
speak in terms of community. The position of Derrida (1995) appears clear enough
when he states ‘I don’t much like the word community,’ understanding it as ‘a
harmonious group, consensus, and fundamental agreement beneath the phenomena
of discord or war’ (p. 355). One can place Derrida’s concerns within the perspective
of Western European history, which understands a progression from the Enlight-
enment to fascism as the ultimate end to modernity. This line of thinking has a
trajectory from Georges Bataille (1988), to Jean Luc Nancy (1991), and Maurice
Blanchot (1988).
If Community Music is a search for openness through which to welcome
potential participants, then the self-protected closure etymologically inherent
within its ‘signature’ works against its quest. Although the community musician
may focus on a particular community, whether based on place, institution, interest,
age or gender group, community as a signatory provides a tension in its overall
desire to create an embracing welcome. Unlike the word community, with its
emphasis on the defense and the unified, Derrida’s explorations of the borders and
limits of the term hospitality resonates with my understanding of Community
Music. Etymologically, the word hospitality is derived from the Latin hospes [from
hostis], which means both ‘guest’ and (paradoxically) ‘enemy’ or ‘hostile’. As a
term, hospitality reveals the transgressive nature of crossing a threshold, while
reminding us that any conditional hospitality takes place in the shadow an
impossible ideal.
284 L. Higgins

In this way, when a music leader welcomes a new participant into a group, they do
so with questions: What is your name? What instrument do you play? Have you done
this before? What are your expectations? Can you make it every week? There is
usually an understanding that the person being hosted will get involved with the
musical activities offered. Although questions such as these are very human, they are
examples of conditional hospitality, an interrogation of the new arrival. This cannot
be avoided because when we welcome another, we do so with limits. The very the
parameters (hostilities) inherent within one’s welcome (hosting) is what makes
hospitality possible.
A deconstructive vision of hospitality allows access to alternative operations of the
word community in Community Music. Community thus becomes a preparation for
the incoming of the other, generating a porous, permeable, open-ended affirmation.
It is this transformation that should be central to Community Music practice. This
deep conviction resonates with its beginnings, as Mark Webster (1997) states:
‘Community Arts is, if nothing else, about change, and about using the Arts to
achieve change’ (p. 69). As a practice, Community Music is a democratic form of
hospitality promoting equality and access beyond any preconceived limits.11 The
notion of conditional hospitality provides touchstones through which openness,
diversity, freedom and tolerance flows. These sentiments reflect Community Music’s
commitment to access and equality of opportunity.
Recasting the notion of community through a Derridean perspective of hospitality
reflects more accurately the practice of the community musician. As a statement of
intent, the term community must reside as a prefix to Community Music, a flickering
entity both essential and unessential, a commitment to a community without unity.
This provisional acceptance must understand that notions of community are always
temporary. As practice, Community Music requires the term community to level its
etymological fortress and weaken its defense against the oncoming participants.
Strength is needed nonetheless to pursue the maintenance of integrity. Community
Music practice must move within the impossible conditions of unity and dislocation;
it is a community-to-come beckoning generosity to be washed upon the shoreline. As
an act of hospitality, the community in Community Music is a promise to ‘the
welcome’.

Case studies from the Peterborough community samba band

The following case studies centre on a Community Music project I initiated in
1993, and serve to illustrate the theoretical ideas presented above. Much of the
material used for this research comes from a weekend reunion, organized in
conjunction with the current incarnation of the Peterborough Community Samba
Band (PCSB). (Through a change in job and relocation, I left the band in 1996,
but mechanisms were in place so it could continue.) Organized as an opportunity
to meet old friends and enjoy a weekend of drumming, the reunion met in May
2004 in Cambridgeshire, UK. The event offered an opportunity to probe
 Acts of hospitality 285

motivations and experiences from those who have shaped the PCSB’s 12 years of
operation. Participants’ backgrounds were typically wide, and echoed the group’s
historic diversity.

Illustration 1: Emily’s story. Advertisements for samba drumming classes at the

Peterborough Arts Centre were visible in local newspapers in May 1993. Just before
7:30 p.m. on a Thursday night, I sat nervously, not knowing if there would be any
attendance at all. Emily entered the building first, and I greeted her. She walked in
awkwardly, short in stature, heavy in weight, and dressed in baggy clothes. As she
walked towards where I was standing, she was apologetic of her musical
incompetence, and appeared as nervous as I was.
Emily has made an incredible life journey since our first meeting, and considers the
act of hospitality embedded into the condition of the PCSB as a catalyst for a deeper
understanding of her current identity. Twelve years after her initiation into the group,
she stated, ‘By God, I am so glad that I went to this first Samba session, oh yeah!’
Through reflection, Emily notes that the PCSB ‘made the biggest impact of anything
I’ve done I think. I can’t imagine me not doing it now. It’s such an intrinsic part of
who I am. It’s not just something that I do.’
During our interview, Emily became visibly tearful as she recounted the process of
change. She described herself as a ‘shadow-little-person’ prior to involvement, and
expressed an understanding that ‘all the experiences that I’ve gained have made me
what I am now and I don’t wanna be not what I am now. If there wasn’t music in my
life then. . ., I can’t imagine who I’d’ve been now.’ Before involvement with the
PCSB, Emily had been ‘trying to make ends meet’, and unhappy with her self-
identity, describing herself as ‘mumsy’, (a derogatory description indicating dowdy-
looking and worn-out). Through a commitment to ‘the welcome’, both the leader
and the group allowed Emily to engage with her passion for music, an opportunity
that had not been possible before.
Regarding her identity, Emily notes a ‘phenomenal change’. The way she carries
herself, her hairstyle, her attitude, her lifestyle, have all undergone dramatic
transformation. ‘I am Emily Samba,’ she noted. This statement is qualified by
revealing that she has recently entered into a new relationship and understands the
need to strike a balance between her love for samba and all its community
intersections, and the commitment of the new relationship. This has not been
easy, and it is in stark contrast to previous times, where ‘the only thing that kept me
sanely in that period was the fact that I was working with music.’ Emily admits that
samba is ‘still very, very important, but it’s not the only thing, now there is something
else.’ Emily’s story illuminates the community musician’s promise, a promise that is
in excess of the conditional welcome. It is this desire for an unconditional embrace,
regardless of what may initially appear to be true, that allows the community
musician to realize her commitment to equality of opportunity.

Illustration 2: aunties. When the Bahianas arrived in Rio as part of the migration
following the end of slavery, their relationship with the African continent was
286 L. Higgins

immediately re-established. As ‘daughters-of-saints’, the women of Bahia set up the

candomblé temples, sold sweets in the daytime, and at night sponsored candomblé
sessions and samba parties. These women had ‘samba in the foot’, and were
addressed respectfully as ‘aunties’ (Guillermoprieto, 1991, p. 52). In the colloquial
sense, the identity of the PCSB was permeated by a material expression of the
‘aunty’. This feature grew from the amalgamation of the adult-orientated PCSB and
the Samba Sizzlers, its junior off-shoot. The following illustration recounts the
creation of an ‘aunties system’ and explores the social effect it had on two families.
The initial ‘kids’ samba’ of 1995 generated enthusiasm from both the children and
their parents. During the first term of workshops, the musical leadership revolved
mainly around Emily. With limited teaching experience, Emily found the kids’ group
a little difficult, and asked parents if they would be willing to lend a hand. Helen
Hutchens and Karen Ellis offered to help. Both had teaching experience; Helen was a
qualified primary school teacher, and Karen worked within classrooms as a learning
support assistant. As the Samba Sizzlers grew in numbers, several other ‘mums’ also
began helping out. As Helen confirms, it was ‘in a proper sense of managing the
band, you know, organizing it, being secretary and treasurer and sorting out the gigs
and organizing the coaches and this sort of thing, because it really did grow into a
successful junior band. And we got invited all over the place.’
Helen and Karen’s involvement reflects the experience many parents have juggling
their offspring’s out-of-school activities (support for their own child plus the
occasional taxi run for others). As Helen and Karen attended the Samba Sizzlers’
rehearsals, they began to absorb the skills required in the playing of certain
instruments. In turn, they formed a ‘sticking-plaster-attitude’ of playing anything
that was needed when attendance was low. ‘Karen or I would jump in, you know, just
to keep it going.’ The amalgamation of the Samba Sizzlers and the adult band grew,
organically grown through necessity and care.
Helen’s children, Miriam and Beth Ellis, began playing with the Samba Sizzlers at
ages eight and ten, and later joined with the PCSB. The band’s impact on Helen’s
family was dramatic. ‘Our two girls have met and experienced a much broader
diversity of people than they might otherwise. They have good interpersonal skills,
are not quick to judge, and are very worldly wise. Of course, it is not possible to
quantify what, if any of that is a direct consequence, but my opinion is that it will
have had an impact.’
Miriam, now 20 years of age and studying at University, recalls: ‘It was a social
thing from quite early on and I gained lots of friends. Then my parents got
involved in the organization and families started socializing out of the group.’
Starting as a hobby, samba soon became ‘something which allowed me to express
myself.’ Miriam continued, ‘[t]he people that I played with became my family and
as a consequence of samba I visited places and got involved with activities that I
would never have been a part in otherwise.’ For Miriam, samba ignited her interest
in other cultures, and was an influential factor in her decision to study social
anthropology. Beth is also at university, and states ‘[w]e always refer to it [the
PSCB] as our extended family and I still feel that way.’ She reflects, ‘I’ve grown up
 Acts of hospitality 287

with the PCSB. Some of us went through those troublesome teenage years [while
we were with the] PCSB.’
With a group of 20 or so performers, the parents became aware of the manner in
which the children were addressing the adults. Reminiscent of her mother, Helen
remembers thinking, ‘[w]e really shouldn’t be allowing them to speak to other adults
like that.’ Yet she supported the development of the children’s individual and
collective voices, encouraged through an activity that gave ownership and respon-
sibility. Helen rearticulated her previous position, ‘[y]eah, you’ve got a point of view
and it’s valid, and you’ve got a right to say what you think and I’m pleased and proud
that you are actually standing up for yourselves.’
The young participants of the Samba Sizzlers were encouraged to develop their
voice, but this was not without its difficulties. Creating tensions between some
children and some adults, the nature of this action was not initially understood by all.
Helen states, ‘I wanted the girls to be seen as individuals standing up for their
own. . . if they’ve done the wrong thing, fine, you tell them they are out of line, you
know, they’re out of order. . . Don’t come to me as a parent expecting me to shut
them up because actually they have got a valid point of view.’
This nurturing had a profound effect on other children as well. Azra joined the
Samba Sizzlers after performing in her school’s samba band, a group formed because
of the music workshops I had completed while Music Animateur,12 for Peterbor-
ough. Of Iranian descent, Azra highlights that performing never seemed particularly
‘in-sync’ with her father’s beliefs: ‘Going to samba meant I was able to do something
that he approved of, while I was also able to socialize and incorporate other less-
conforming aspects of my personality, e.g. dancing, wearing bright clothes for
carnival.’ Azra pinpoints the PCSB as ‘the first group of adults that I had ever been
told to address by their first names!’
Responding to the moments of tension between the children and the adults, both
Helen and Karen recognized the need to ‘look after each other’ and cultivate
communication channels. Through a network of inter- and intra-support, the Samba
Sizzlers developed a cross-parenting textuality that allowed the children decision-
making abilities within a responsible, creative and functional structure. Through
extended community responsibility, the adults became known as ‘aunties’. In a sense,
the Peterborian women had ‘samba in their feet’, and thus allowed the party to
continue in full-swing.
Although the ‘aunty’ network has acted as unifying force, it has not erected
unnecessary fortress walls. The PCSB’s support system operated within the notion of
a community without unity, a democratic musical activity that has reduced the status
of gathering in order to advocate openness. The band sees the reduction of unity as
strength from both the inside and the outside. The PCSB prides itself on its integrity
and crafted support systems, but continues to maintain an ability to welcome new
participants in order to ensure a ‘we’ experience.

Illustration 3: family. For the Hutchens family, samba was something ‘we could
enjoy as a family.’ Paul Hutchens remarked that his main motivation for participating
288 L. Higgins

‘was a desire to have shared experiences with my family.’ Paul had considered a
career in music after early exposure to singing in the Welsh eisteddfods, and later
achievements in trumpet and piano. His anxiousness initially prevented him from
joining the PCSB, but as the rest of his family became increasingly committed, he
decided to overcome his ‘fear’. Helen explains Paul’s dilemma: ‘Samba was sort of
ruling the lives of those core few families and certainly was dictating what we did half
of the summer-time . . . the kids were saying ‘‘[w]ell no, we’re not going on holiday
then, because we got Drum Camp’’.’
From the Ellis family, Beth attributes samba as part of the reason she has ‘a great
relationship with my parents as we do this as a family.’ Both the Hutchens and the
Ellis families recognized that to ensure the notion of hospitality, the PCSB needed
continued nurturing. ‘We have responsibilities to this community band and this is
what we have to do for it and unfortunately this is gonna have to be considered within
our family life.’
Samba family outings, such as the annual Drum Camp, embraced a wide variety of
experiences and colored the nature of parenting. Helen explained, ‘I think it made us
confident as parents to let go of the children.’ Helen cites Miriam’s first attendance at
the Glastonbury Festival.
She [Miriam] went with a group of friends and one particular man was virtually neurotic
and thinking, you know, ‘‘how can you [Helen] be so cool?’’ and I thought, ‘Well,
actually . . . I’m quite happy that she knows where she is and she knows she’s safe and
she knows how to be safe around those people and at least we can explore the issues and
laugh about it together.
Both the Ellis and Hutchens family suggest quite explicitly that the hospitality
inherent within the PCSB directly influenced how they parented. The experiences of
community within the PCSB opened pathways for experiences that however
challenging, allowed the whole family to develop closer bonds. It is clear that these
‘bonds’ are not received as restrictive parameters. In fact, a trust developed that
allowed the parents to support their children’s endeavors, efforts that were often
beyond their particular horizons of understanding.

Illustration 4: friendships. For a number of participants, the PCSB was initially seen
as a way to make new friends. Elizabeth joined the band soon after moving into the
area for work. Miriam had also moved into Peterborough for employment, and was
struggling to find new friends. ‘I’d moved to Peterborough,’ she recalled, ‘picked up a
teaching job and knew nobody here and I’ve been here two years and this was one of
the ways of trying to make friends in Peterborough. So that pretty much these people
are my friends in Peterborough.’
As well as the creation of new friends, the PCSB nurtured deeper relationships
between old acquaintances. Helen notes, ‘I have gained a whole new friendship
group,’ but makes particular reference to the growth of her friendship with Emily,
another regular member of the band. Karen also states that one of her main
motivations for attendance is ‘being with friends, odd and new.’ Rachel suggests
 Acts of hospitality 289

that friendships occurred in ways that she had not experienced before. Beth
reinforces this notion, ‘[i]t’s a relationship that [is] hard to define as the only
connection really is samba and this is the only time I see them. I don’t think I
would find a relationship like that in any other situation.’ From Oliver’s
perspective, the band operates quite differently from his normal working day. ‘I
work in a formal structured atmosphere where there isn’t much fun or social
interaction between staff.’
Other friendships have aided significant changes of life style. As a professional
musician, Luke joined the group around six months after its inception. Unlike the
majority of the PCSB’s participants, Luke had a formal music education, having
studied percussion at the Royal College of Music in London. Luke originally joined
because he wanted to do more playing and wanted to broaden his background in
world music. He soon recognized the band’s value in expanding his network of
friends. It is through his meeting with Joseph, a musician and instrument builder,
that Luke began the process of changing jobs. The shift from record producer to
workshop leader and teacher has its roots within this friendship. ‘Samba band,’ says
Luke, ‘gave me the opportunity to do workshops with adults, which I hadn’t done
much before ’cause you [the bands leader] were away for a couple of weeks, maybe
three weeks, and I did a couple of them.’
The PCSB as an exemplar of Community Music inscribes sharing and friendship
as illustrated above. As Blanchot (1988) suggests, ‘[t]his sharing refers back to the
community and is exposed in it’ (p. 19). Such face-to-face relationships echo the
notion of Emmanuel Levinas (1981) that ‘community with him begins in my
obligation to him’ (p. 11). Blanchot (1988) reinforces this sentiment by stating
‘If I want my life to have meaning for myself, it must have meaning for someone else’
(p. 22). Derrida also concludes that as soon as we have begun to speak we are already
caught up in the ‘the relation to the Other prior to any organised socius’ (Gaon, 2005,
p. 395). As a Community Music project that advocates a promise to the welcome and
a commitment to the act of hospitality, the PCSB works towards an unconditional
rapport with its participants. This emphasis allows the development of open
networks, friendships, associations, and performing experiences that lie in a future
that is unexpected and unpredictable. It is this desire that allows the PCSB’s present
to be an effective act of hospitality.

Conclusion
Through a theoretical discussion and practical illustrations, this article has suggested
that the sign ‘community’ in Community Music resides as an encounter of
hospitality. I have proposed that any understanding of the hospitable is marked by
the conditional and the unconditional. While talk of a lost community may prove a
fantasy, community lies ahead of us, it is to come, a future that is waiting to be
discovered. Nietzsche (1986) reminds us that an incapacity to imagine imprisons the
290 L. Higgins

free spirit. By means of an etymological examination of the term community I have

tried to release an aspect of this free spirit.
The introduction of this article highlighted contemporary anthropological notions
of community, such as contextual fellowship, liminal communities, collective
identities and democratic individuality. All of these categories emphasize difference
as a guiding idea in wrestling tensions between social and political relations within
communal frames. As a manifestation of Community Music, the PCSB operates
within these postmodern visions of community, and, as such, welcomes difference
and individuality recast in plurality. We might rethink the band’s name, suggesting
instead the Peterborough Community without Unity Band.
Through its transgressive condition, the PCSB welcomes new participants into its
folds without formal invitation. Part of the band’s success lies in its ability to work
through the aporia of the hospitality paradox. Although not always easy, the band
appears to advocate a sense of belonging to those who participate. It is this
welcoming, this sense of community, that has fertilized a network of friendships that
have their seeds embedded within the band’s identity. Through its social hospitality,
the PCSB reciprocally reinforces its identity. This motion is not restricted to
normative understandings of community, but rather is embedded within a
deconstructive vision of hospitality. As participants within a community project,
those that form the identity of the PCSB are constantly preparing themselves for the
arrival of new members. The PCSB reflects Community Music’s act of hospitality. It
is porous, permeable and open-ended.

Notes
1. Cultural democracy in its extreme condemned the cultural heritage of Europe as bourgeois,
As far as community arts had any common philosophy, it did argue that a cultural
democracy in which creative arts opportunities, enjoyment and celebration would be
available to all was paramount to its cause.
2. Gemeinschaft is often understood alongside the word Gesellschaft , meaning society. As an
advocate of traditional cultural values, Ferdinand Tönnies work, Community and society,
originally published in Germany in 1887, explores these terms concluding that, with
modernity, society replaces community as the primary focus for social relations.
3. Communis. Commondefence.
4. Communnus. Having common duties or functions. Doing one’s duty to the whole, mutual
service.
5. I am thinking of those 10 minutes or so spent dropping the children off or picking them up
from school, or those hours spent with work colleagues in the office.
6. Times of emergency can ignite a sense of contextual fellowship, the death of Princess Diana,
9/11 for instance. Also reflect on waiting for the train or plane, at times of delay or
cancellation; during these moments people bond and begin talking.
7. Liminal in a sense of transitional, those ‘in-between’ spaces that have importance in people’s
lives, for example your morning coffee in Starbuck, the train journey to and from work, or
the gym every Saturday morning. These moments have a consciousness of communality.
8. Most often associated with technologically-mediated communities, such as chat rooms, one
might even think off the ‘ebay’ community.
 Acts of hospitality 291

9. Jean-Luc Nancy (1991) speaks of a community without community, suggesting that a

‘Community without community is to come , in the sense that it is always coming , endlessly, at
the heart of every collectivity’.
10. Although Derrida does not embrace the word community, he is nevertheless concerned with
its implications; his work on asylum seekers and refugees (Derrida, 2000, 2001) deals with
the themes of displaced peoples and their treatment as strangers in new lands. Further
reading can be found in Derrida and Ferraris (2001), Derrida (1997), and the response of
John Caputo (1997) to a roundtable discussion with Derrida in 1994.
11. The implication of the sign of a hospitable community within Community Music is a
structure of the musical future to come; a refusal of any interpretation of community that
privileges ‘gathering’ over ‘dislocation’. This is a direct reference to the account by Derrida
(1994) of Heidegger’s favour ‘of the accord that gathers or collects while harmonizing.’
Dislocation also resides in the postmodern idea of increased fragmentations that requires
continue negotiation; what Lyotard calls the differend.
12. The ‘Arts’ animateur became popular throughout 1980/1990s Britain. The posts began to
dwindle in the late 1990s. It was The Council of Europe’s response to its own directives
within the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, implementing the creation of the ‘socio-
cultural animateur’, described by Sue Braden (1978, p. 178) as ‘part priest, part artist, who
breathes life into a community.’

Notes on contributor
Lee Higgins is Program Leader for the Integrated MA and Community Arts at the
Liverpool Institute for Performing Arts, UK.

References
Alperson, P. (Ed.) (2002) Diversity and community: an interdisciplinary reader (Oxford, Blackwell
Publishing).
Amit, V. & Rapport, N. (2002) The trouble with community: anthropological reflections on movement,
identity and collectivity (London, Pluto Press).
Augé, M. (1995) Non-places: introduction to an anthropology of supermodernity (London, Verso).
Bataille, G. (1988) Inner experience (New York, SUNY Press).
Blanchot, M. (1988) The unavowable community (New York, Station Hill Press).
Braden, S. (1978) Artist and people (London, Routledge).
Brook, R. (1988) Wanted! community artists (London, Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation).
Caputo, J. D. (1997) Community without community, in: J. D. Caputo (Ed.) Deconstruction in a
nutshell: a conversation with Jacques Derrida (New York, Fordham University Press).
Childs, J. B. (2003) Transcommunality: from the politics of conversion to the ethics of respect
(Philadelphia, PA, Temple University Press).
Corlett, W. (1995) Community without unity: a politics of Derridian extravagance (Durham, NC,
Duke University Press).
Delanty, G. (2003) Community (London, Routledge).
Derrida, J. (1997) Politics of friendship (London, Verso).
Derrida, J. (2000) Of hospitality (Palo Alto, CA, Stanford University Press).
Derrida, J. (2001) On cosmopolitanism and forgiveness (London, Routledge).
Derrida, J. & Ferraris, M. (2001) A taste for the secret (Cambridge, Polity Press).
Gaon, S. (2005) Communities in question: sociality and solidarity in Nancy and Blanchot, Journal
for Cultural Research, 9, 387
403.
292 L. Higgins

Greater, L. C. (1986) Campaign for a popular culture. A record of struggle and achievement; the GLC’s
Community Arts Programme 1981
1986 (London, Greater London Council).
Guillermoprieto, A. (1991) Samba (New York, Departures).
Kant, I. (1998) Critique of pure reason (Cambridge, Cambridge University Press).
Kelly, O. (1984) Community, art and the state (London, Comedia).
Levinas, E. (1981) Otherwise than being or beyond essence (The Hague, Martinus Nijhoff).
Lyotard, J.-F. (1988) The differend: phases in dispute (Manchester, Manchester University Press).
Nancy, J.-L. (1991) The inoperative community (Minneapolis, MN, University of Minnesota Press).
Nietzsche, F. (1986) Human, all too human: a book for free spirits (Cambridge, Cambridge
University Press).
Rapport, N. & Overing, J. (2000) Social and cultural anthropology: the key concepts (London,
Routledge).
Sheldon, T. (1986) The manifesto: another standard, culture and democracy (London, Comedia).
Vila, P. (2005) Border identifications: narratives of religion, gender, and class on the U.S.-Mexico Border
(Austin, TX, University of Texas Press).
Webster, M. (Ed.) (1997) Finding voices, making choices (Nottingham, Educational Heretics Press).