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CC 2014 #25 India

2014-07-22T12:47:08+00:00

On a stiflingly hot April morning we made our way through the traffic jammed streets of Mumbai to visit one of India’s most distinguished classical musicians, the violinist and singer Kala Ramnath.

After a warm welcome and some even warmer samosas, we made a start. Kala lives in a small flat and we had two rooms to choose from one at the back of her flat and one at the front. Neither room was ideal as at the front there was incessant traffic noise and at the back there was major building works going on with drills, banging and lorries reversing. We settled on the back room in the hope that the workers would stop for an early lunch to avoid the midday sun. Unfortunately it’s not only mad dogs and Englishmen who go out in the midday sun – Indian builders do too – so we had to pause often for particularly loud bangs and drills and record as much as possible in the short periods between the loudest noises.

Having only a passing knowledge of Indian classical music, this was a real education for me. The great thing about being a BBC producer, is that you get to meet wonderful musicians and listen to their music in unique environments. Hearing Kala and her Tabla player perform in her living room was a real pleasure and a privilege. Her explanations of the themes within the music bring it to life. The fact that most of it is improvised means that no two performances are the same and, as Kala, pointed out, the performance is very much linked to their emotional state at the time of playing. The music, then, becomes something which is affected by their emotions rather than something which affects their emotions.

The differences between western classical and Indian classical music were made very clear as, for part of our trip to India, we were working with the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra. So going from the structured world of the orchestral tour and the necessary sheet music and rehearsals to a lady sitting cross legged on the floor beside her tabla player was a bit of a culture shock. The music is more like jazz than western classical music and the musicians exchange glances and knowing looks as to when the music should move on, develop and ultimately finish.

Kala told us that the voice is the most important thing in music and was able to demonstrate how closely the violin can replicate it. The ability to use the bow to sustain notes and bend them on the violin using the Indian music scale, means the violin and voice can sound incredibly similar. Because of the violin’s ability to mimic the voice, it has become embedded in Indian classical musical culture, despite the fact that the instrument only came to India during colonial times.

Kala explains that whatever is going on in the world, or with her personally, is put to the back of her mind as the music takes over her emotions. Sitting listening and watching her perform, I can only agree and add that it does the same for the listener.

We left her home late in the afternoon and dived back into the stream of non-stop Mumbai traffic. The white knuckle ride of near misses and emergency stops seemed a lot less stressful having been enriched and nourished by this wonderful music.

CC 2014 #24 Zambia

2014-07-18T15:17:29+00:00

If we had known we would meet royalty while in Zambia, we might have dressed up a bit.

Arriving in the 700 year old Mukuni village outside Livingstone, sound engineer Martin Appleby and I were led through a tiny thatched hut and met by the Palace Choir singing a welcome song in two lines like a sort of guard of honour for us. As it turns out this was also the signal to the 'palace' that we were approaching.

The palace as it turned out was yet another little thatched hut behind a straw wall, filled with animal skins, some slightly out of place large armchairs and the Chief himself in full regalia on his mahogany carved throne.

We knelt and clapped our hands twice as we had been shown and were graciously offered a seat and a brief audience. Next, after more kneeling and clapping while simultaneously trying not to get tangled in our quickly assembled microphone cables, we were taken to see the Female Choir perform their ritual beer brewing dance, a subject we were instantly more familiar with. High energy drumming....high energy re-enacting of pounding the grains with huge poles......was all egged on by two impressively vital old ladies of the village - ululating, dancing and blowing whistles with great gusto.

At the other end of the village we met The Mukoni School choir. They were equally impressive and an advert for modern Zambia singing a polished selection of songs in four part-harmony all conducted by a very dapper student conductor complete with white conducting gloves.

Finally, but not least, we were taken down to the spectacular Victoria Falls viewing area where one of the last remaining great malimba (xylophone) players had his pitch playing for tourists. Few people least of all his fellow Zambians were aware of the talent and importance of this 85 year old for Zambia's musical heritage. He played outside the curios market where traders were eagerly pressing tourists to buy mementos of their trip. Not perhaps the dignified old age enjoyed by his Chief but by village standards probably a viable way to make a living.

CC 2014 #22 Seychelles

2014-07-18T15:17:29+00:00

Humid heat, torrential rain and crowds upon crowds of party-goers all hit the one street town of Victoria on the opening day of Seychelles Carnival parade.

Seychelles Carnival parade

Like most people the only thing I associated with the Seychelles before researching this programme was luxury holidays and the vision of millionaire yachts moored off perfect beaches. I wasn't quite expecting rain showers on a monsoon scale which hemmed us into our apartment, turning the baking heat outside into a steaming sauna.

This was Carnival time and hundreds of kids, dancers and musicians were dressing up for the biggest event of the year. It was there that I met the cultural dance group Latroupe Nacyonal and singer-songwriter Jean-Marc Volcy preparing for their own performances and a whole new side to the Island's heritage opened up to me.

Jean-Marc Volcy's dream is to promote the music of the Seychelles to a wider audience. He is convinced that the ballad style 'moutia' and party style 'sega' should be more widely enjoyed, and that promoting Seychelles culture is his duty as a gifted artist.

Jean-Marc Volcy

In a similar vein, during our session with Latroupe Nasyonal Sesel, the young dancers, picked from all over the islands, were proud to belong to this elite group, promoting their culture with the graceful and sensual movements of both European and African traditions. Smiling broadly, they were clearly happy to be Seychellois born and bred.

The similarities to the music and dances in St Lucia, thousands of miles away in the Caribbean Sea were striking. Both Creole speaking, both based on the European dance music from the big houses on the plantations and both with the added ingredient of African rhythms and moves brought by the original slaves from Africa.

Perhaps one day the Seychelles will be known for this too.

CC 2014 #23 Bangladesh

2014-07-07T18:13:30+00:00

Horn honking here is a significant pass time, and we didn’t leave Bangladesh with a single recording whether music, interview or wild track without some kind of horn or tuk tuk bell on it.

As sound engineer Rob Winter and I edge forward in the 40 degree heat a traffic policeman does his best to direct the cars, carts and ramshackle buses into their designated lanes. He waves his arms around with absolutely no effect whatsoever – eventually he sees a driver he knows and wanders over for a chat, whilst a cacophony of horns continues in the heat.

We eventually reach our destination and make our way to the roof. We’re recording folk musicians from Dhaka and rural Bangladesh, who are meeting us here on the roof of a house by Lake Gulshan.

I thought I'd quite carefully planned our recording session late in the day at 5pm, thinking the heat would have subsided, but with temperatures still high, it looked like we might not be able to record, as it was too much for the musicians and their instruments never mind the sweltering visitors.

However, having found some fans the musicians began to set up. The musicians here today call themselves ‘Udashi’ they play Shari (wooden flute), Kanthi or ‘Bangla’ Dhol (a slightly fatter type of dhol drum than I'd seen before), a 2 string plucked instrument called a Dotara, a harmonium, Mandira bells (small but loud) and 2 singers.

First we heard from folk singer Dewan Baby Aktar. She sings ‘Oh my beloved you are on the other side of the river - it’s the river of love. I cannot get there without having wings to fly to you, so it is my fate to be apart from you’. It’s a Bhatiali song. 'Bhati' means downstream and these songs are typically sung by the boatmen and people plying their trade on the rivers of Bangladesh. It’s brilliant to hear a musical style born from this country's waterways and landscape.

The sun is setting by the time Baul musician Rob Phakir swaps places with Baby. The Baul’s are a group of mystic minstrels that live their lives out-with the conventions of society as far as possible. Rob tells me that Bauls follow a guru, along with the teachings of Lalon Shah. Lalon Shah was a Bengali pilgrim poet-philosopher and someone Rob calls 'a very wise human being'. It’s an ancient and almost religious way of life with various Baul branches and gurus. Singing and dance play an important role in their practice and I’m lucky enough to hear some examples from Rob. First he sings a song about Lalon Shah, the first piece I’ve heard here with a solemn minor feel.

He’s dressed all in white, and gives slow considered answers during our interview, so it’s a surprise when the musicians start to giggle and he sings a song about sex and the body. Apparently it’s something of a warning from the elders to the young, again with teachings from Lalon Shah. The words describe potholes that fill up with water when it rains, everyone wants to jump into the water, but Lalon warns they will catch a fever and to practice self-restraint before it’s too late.

Of all the places we’ve visited during the Asia leg of this recording trip, Bangladesh has been the most colourful. I wish we had more time in this country. I feel we have only just scratched the surface.

CC 2014 #21 Singapore

2014-06-24T14:43:54+00:00

Tracing the roots of Singapore’s traditional music was always going to be tricky as this tiny island seems to have been a passing place with a constant stream of traders, settlers and those journeying through. Malay, Indian, Chinese, Tamil and Armenian are just some of the cultures that have arrived in Singapore over the centuries.

But I’ve since discovered that a result of this passing through of people has led to Singapore becoming home to traditions now lost in their country of origin, where traditional music techniques and tastes have metamorphosed. As such, pockets of Singapore preserve historic musical genres, like a sort of living cultural museum – something you’d be forgiven for missing at first glance; give the country’s slick and modern image.

Walking down a street in china town, my colleague Robert Winter and I hear bursts of temple drums from the old Sri Mariamman Hindu Temple. Further along at the Buddha Tooth relic temple a Buddhist monk intones to the chimes of giant bells. I’m very aware that there is no one sound of traditional Singapore.

...So, as a taster of one style among many we pay a visit to the Thau Yong Amateur Music Association...

Rob and I are greeted by a room of immaculately dressed senior gentlemen in white shirts and pressed trousers. Mr Yeo is one of the longest standing members of the group. He tells me they play a style of Waijiang music once the preserve of educated and elite gentlemen living in the Guangdong province of China. He says this particular style of music is now extinct on the mainland.

Everyone here plays from memory, kept in tempo by the pulse beaten out on small wooden blocks. Apparently there used to be a teacher here who taught the tunes – the basic lines were learnt from a score, then embellished and pulled about as the musicians became familiar with them, similar to a jazz musician playing a standard. Except here there is a room full of players each negotiating their own way round the melody of ‘Little Peach Red’, a sound that needs to be heard to be fully appreciated.

That evening we meet students from the Siong Leng Musical Association, who play Nanyin or ‘southern pipes’ music – another export from southern china. Lyn, one of the students tells me ‘People think this is music for old people, like funeral music. I myself thought this until I really listened to the words. Actually it’s very sad, the songs are about romance, love and eloping; it never ends well’.

Nowadays Lyn and the group play Nanyin music at temples, libraries and museums encouraging more Singaporeans to learn about this part of their country’s heritage – one of the many diverse layers that lie beneath this city’s shining surface.

CC 2014 #20 Malaysia

2014-06-20T14:44:38+00:00

The thing I found most difficult was remembering to take my shoes off whenever we entered the building. As you’ll see from the pictures footwear isn’t worn inside. Instead the musicians of Yayasan Warisan Johor (or Johor Heritage foundation) sit on the floor in socks and bright pink outfits.

Our hosts in Malaysia’s southern state of Johor are a troupe of musicians and dancers who are duty bound to share Malay traditional music with anyone who’ll listen.

Musical director On Bin Jaafar and marketing man Shafie Bin Ahmad introduce us to Zapin music that arrived with Arab Islamic missionaries in the fourteenth century. It’s a traditional dance performed by pairs of men and women. The styles vary depending on what part of the country you’re in, and people from Johor are fiercely proud of their own particular style – they use a Malay drum called a Rebana that adds weight to the music, providing strong impetus for the dancers.

We take a break and head outside to the tropical heat for lunch – which is a traditional dish of fish head curry, blisteringly hot chillis and soup.

Refreshed and several degrees hotter we sit back down on the rugs inside, greeted by the Yayasan musicians who have changed into shiny gold tunics.

A Rahman Ibrahim sits in the middle and sings ‘Siti Payung’, a traditional Ghazal song about a woman in a village who is just like an umbrella; an unconventional compliment I think, until Shafie explains that ‘she protects people, come rain or shine’. Ghazal came to Malaysia from Persia and is heard nowadays at wedding and official events. It fits in well with the feel of the place, and the wandering vocal lines that curl round the melody remind me of the calls to prayer I hear throughout our days here.

Laura Metcalfe

Putting the Pacific into Pacific Quay

2014-06-13T11:12:19+00:00

You search fruitlessly for weeks for athletes from across the Pacific, and then eventually, like buses on a rainy day, a whole bunch of weightlifters come along at once.

And then three of them proceed to sing into a computer for you.

Allow me to explain...

The BBC’s Glasgow operation is based in a large glass building beside the river Clyde, the site of former docks called Pacific Quay.

Unfortunately the weather here never even remotely matches the area’s exotic sounding name.

It’s not tropical, there’s not a coconut tree in sight, and the Clyde remains a stubborn muddy brown colour, rather than the turquoise of Micronesian waters.

But despite this cruel disconnect, I was charged with bringing you the Pacific, in the form of Commonwealth athletes and their music, from island nations I’d mostly never even heard of, let alone have any idea where they were.

So using the internet I set about masking my complete and utter ignorance, and slowly but surely Vanuatu, Nauru, Tuvalu, and Kiribati started becoming real places in my mind. Most of them are somewhere north east of the big island down there, the one that even I knew, Australia. But “somewhere north east” could be several thousand miles away from Australia’s coast, and in terms of size relative to the Pacific these island nations literally are drops in the Ocean.

Finding the various islands on the map was only half the battle though.

Working out who to speak to and then getting hold of them, and then establishing how to record an interview on a lonely isle on the other side of the world was the other half.

The time in that part of the Pacific is eleven or twelve hours ahead of the UK, almost the direct opposite of here.

10am or 10pm turned out to be the sweet spot for phoning, although you never quite get used to speaking to someone who’s about to go to bed when you have just got up and vice versa.

For the rare few who actually checked their email or facebook accounts and then chose to answer that method worked well, and that’s how I got hold of Anolyn Lulu, a former Olympic table tennis player for Vanuatu, a place once known as the New Hebrides.

The interview was meant to be with her young prodigy Yoshua Shing, who despite being in his early twenties has represented Vanuatu at Commonwealth Games since 2006.

But he didn’t turn up.

So Anolyn stepped into the breach by Skype and the slightly temperamental satellite internet connection which links Vanuatu to the world, plus an improvised home studio on my breakfast table.

She was able to tell me of how she had tears in her eyes when she knew she’d qualified for the London Olympics and had been chosen to be Vanuatu’s flag bearer at the opening ceremony.

Anolyn Lulu's Heritage Track

Anolyn also chose a great track, “Freedom” by Vanessa Quai which for Anolyn resonated with her young country gaining its independence in 1980.

Far flung doesn’t even begin to describe the islands of Nauru, Tuvalu and Kiribati. With fewer than 10 thousand inhabitants Nauru is probably the least populous sovereign state in the world, if you discount the Vatican City and Monaco.

Tuvalu isn’t far behind.

Relative to that Kiribati seems huge because it boasts one hundred thousand people. But despite their tiny populations these islands have an impressive track record in weightlifting.

Paul Coffa, the irrepressible Italian Australian who trains elite lifters for Oceania at a special training camp in New Caledonia has a theory. He reckons that Pacific islanders’ body shape, with super strong shoulders and thighs from climbing coconut trees for thousands of generations makes them perfect material for the sport.

Tuvalu’s Lapua Lapua climbs a coconut tree

Weightlifters can have a bit of an image problem.

When we as the general public see them it’s in competition, so they are pumped up, highly focussed, and perhaps even rather threatening and aggressive looking.

On top of that there’s that weightlifter body shape which they squeeze into those strange skin tight outfits they wear for lifting.

It’s hard to imagine weightlifters any other way when you’ve only seen them grimacing.

You can’t quite imagine them chilling out, let alone smiling.

So when superheavyweight Itte Detenamo from Nauru sat down at the computer for his interview I was feeling a bit intimidated.

His huge face filled the screen, but despite his size and his name which sounds like a type of explosive, the man turned out to be the original gentle giant.

And so were the other lifters.

They were all big pussy cats, to a man and a woman.

During my interview with with Lapua Lapua he got out his guitar and sang his favourite song about Funafuti, the capital of Tuvalu.

Before I knew it, egged on by coach Paul Coffa, Lapua was joined by David Katoata from Kiribati, and female lifter Dika Toua from Papua New Guinea.

In an instant an international singing weightlifting trio was formed, and they proceeded to sing down the line.

OCEANIA WEIGHLIFTING TRIO: David, Lapua and Dika

As I sat there at my breakfast table, laughing with delight, I realised that by sheer luck I had done it...

A trio of olympic standard weightlifters were singing just for me, and in turn you dear listener and cybernaut.

And if you listened very hard, you could just about hear the Pacific Ocean lapping around the BBC HQ at Pacific Quay.

David Allison

CC 2014 #19 Uganda

2014-06-13T10:10:59+00:00

It was the moment a dancer set fire to his hat that I realised this was quite a party.

I sat like the Queen under a tent made from a blanket and on a rather incongruous sofa covered with a lace throw and was welcomed as the guest of honour in this remote village in Eastern Uganda.

A gaggle of children gathered around, curious to see any photos I’d already taken on my tablet while others showed off to me, jigging about as the musicians rehearsed and set up.

A giant seven-man xylophone had been built for the occasion for which the musicians first have to dig a pit and overlay the 21 wooden slats of the instrument. The sound was deep, warm and with a profound resonance straight from the African soil - grounded in every sense.

I felt I had walked into a different world as the people of this village welcomed me and my colleague Martin into their lives for a day.

Our musical guide was James Isabirye, a music lecturer at Kyambogo University. He grew up here and as we drove up the dusty road, James stopped the car to greet people on foot or on bicycles. Everyone knows him and we stopped off to visit his ageing father who still lives here.

Travelling with minimal equipment, sound engineer Martin Appleby got very good at improvising al fresco recording studios with the help of some gaffer tape. One very musical little girl who you can see leading the dancing in the video was so good that we appointed her as our assistant audio engineer for the morning.

She looked terrified when I handed her the microphone but once she understood her new role, she stood proudly and completely still concentrating intensely on the musicians. We became best friends, helped by a bag of toffees from my rucksack.

the BBC's newest assistant audio engineer

As this impromptu concert went on, more people seemed to be arriving from the fields and villages around. The athletic young men of the village strutted their dances and we knew the party had really started when one dancer set fire to his hat and danced around causing whoops of hilarity amongst the women and children.

The highlight of the concert was the appearance of the gourd trumpet group of Busoga – a rare opportunity to hear this endangered species of instrument, who have been named by UNESCO as important elements of Ugandan heritage in need of urgent safeguarding. Limited to two rather flatulent sounding notes, they nevertheless endear themselves by their rather dramatic and theatrical appearance, and layered with drums, dancers, singers and anyone else who cared to join in, their mesmeric mournful sound grew quite hypnotic.

the gourd trumpet group of Busoga

Memories of that day will stay for a long time, not only for the music but for the sheer energy and joy amongst the children and villagers who danced, laughed and sang their way through the day. I hope someday I’ll go back.

CC 2014 #18 Sri Lanka

2014-06-06T14:18:36+00:00

Sound engineer Rob Winter and I arrive in Sri Lanka’s capital Colombo during Vesak – the full moon festival celebrating Buddha’s birthday and attainment of Nirvana. Our first few hours in the city pretty much sums up our brief stay; it overwhelms the senses. If the searing 40 degree heat and punch from the chilli infused food doesn’t do it, surely the multi-coloured lanterns and flags in the streets, constant hum of three-wheelers, buses and friendly horns will.

Colombo streets during Vesak

We visit the Gangaramaya temple and meet temple musicians playing the noon call to prayer, or Pooja. The sounds of the Thammattama and Davula drums and the Horenava pierce through the air - even from outside the temple across the street.

Musicians from Gangaramaya Temple in Colombo

Sri Lankan Buddhists spend the day at the temple praying and meditating, burning oil lamps and incense, fasting and wearing white.

Incense burning at Gangaramaya Temple Colombo

Outside the city centre we meet Mr TS Murugesh who plays us examples of traditional Tamil folk music. Our request for purely acoustic instruments is apparently a very rare one – nowadays TV appearances call for electronic backing tracks it seems. I hear a mournful and unsettled tune that turns out to be a love song, with a happy ending! So much for my western ears.

Mr T S Murugesh and ensemble in the garden

Next we visit Pradeep Ratnayake – who plays the sitar. This might be more of a traditionally Indian instrument, but Pradeep is aiming to give it a Sri Lankan identity too. He pairs it with the Kandyan drum, synonymous with the music and dance traditions of the region. It’s made with monkey, cattle and deer skin and has a distinctive and warm tone. Pradeep uses traditional Sinhala folk melodies in his music, in the hope that more people will come to hear this aspect of Sri Lankan culture.

Pradeep Ratnayake, Professor Karunarathna Bandara, Nirmala Damayanthi Rathnayake

CC 2014 #17 New Zealand

2014-05-30T11:51:51+00:00

After 38 hours in transit and a good night’s rest we head out to Titahi Bay to meet up at the home of Mina Ripia, bandleader of the 5 piece all female Maori accapella group Whiri Tu Aka.

The singers in the group have travelled from all across New Zealand to come together for an intimate house rehearsal and its fascinating witnessing the tight connection between the band members, it’s been several months since they last met, but it feels like they have never been away from each other. This tight connection is also reflected in their ego-less singing style in the way their vocals give-way and intertwine with each other to create a tapestry of sound reflecting the modern Maori experience. Along with Mina, the singers in the group are Gaynor Rikihana, Kirsten Te Rito, Betty-Anne Monga and Lisa Tomlins. The girls are clearly excited to be performing together in their mother tongue at a hi-profile concert the following day, February 6th, celebrating Waitangi Day.

Whiri Tu Aka

On this day in 1840 the Treaty of Waitangi, New Zealand's founding document was signed, making New Zealand a part of the British Empire, guaranteeing Māori people rights to their land and granting them the same rights as British subjects. Hundreds of people have gathered for a day of fun, music and sunshine at the waterfront in Wellington celebrating all things Maori.

Whiri Tu Aka performing on stage at the Waitangi Day Celebrations, Wellington

There is a great carnival atmosphere with people of all nationalities and backgrounds coming together…lots of laughter, the smell of food, children dancing and I even get a chance to meet a Maori Chief!

Crowd at Waitangi Day Celebrations in Wellington

The following day I meet up with two members of the band for a unique collaboration with Horomono Horo, a practitioner of Taonga Puoro, a collection of Maori instruments. I am welcomed by Horo via the traditional Maori greeting of rubbing noses before he reveals his beautiful collection of instruments (including a pear shaped gourd, conch shell, bones, small flutes and a case-worm in a branch to name a few!) which are all housed in a sort of James Bond style briefcase.

selection of Taonga pÅ«oro from the collection of Horomona Horo

As the weather is good we take a drive down to the shores of Titahi Bay and set up for an outdoor recording with Mina, Betty-Anne and Horomono (pictured at top) whose instruments merge with the sound of the waves, birdsong and the sweet harmonies of the singers. Horo encapsulates the spirit of this collaboration best when he quotes an old Maori proverb to me saying...

‘It was in the night when the Gods sang the world into existence …from the world of light into the world of music. However you express it, however you enjoy, however you breath it ...it’s is the music that connects us all’.

Sushil.

Horomona Horo

CC 2014 #16 Kenya

2014-05-21T10:28:57+00:00

The African Heritage House, the lion and the Luo people.

"Sometimes lions do wander into my garden, but the dog usually hears them first and warns me"...Alan Donovan, the owner of the African Heritage House tells me as we set up our recording equipment in his grounds.

Thanks to our Kenyan guides Tabu Osusa and Steve Kivutia, we have arranged to record our music sessions at the African Heritage House outside Nairobi, home to the finest Art Collection in Africa.

The African Heritage House

Ayub Ogada lives near here and owes much of his meteoric rise to fame in world music circles to Alan Donovan, the owner/designer of this most beautiful of houses overlooking the vast Nairobi National Park.... and yes, the tall animals in the distance are indeed giraffes.

Ayub, now his neighbour, has reached a mass market through Peter Gabriel's record label. He is passionate about Kenya and about the nyatiti and has returned to his roots in both these regards....

Alan, a somewhat reclusive Art Collector has spent the last 43 years collecting and supporting the art and artists of Africa, amassing a collection of priceless paintings, sculpture, weavings, drawings and other extraordinary objet d'art. He saw Ayub's talent early on, presumably much in the same way as he noticed promising art or artists and supported his early career.

Ayub Ogada

Ayub talks about his nyatiti harp like a friend, definitely a female friend. He loves his instrument. He loves the landscape. And he loves his roots here. This is the instrument of the Luo people (famously this is the tribe that President Obama is related to). Traditionally the nyatiti is played very much 'in your face' forcefully, he tells me, and he has evolved a softer, gentler sound'. Instead of lying it in its side he plays it upright like a lyre and instead of tapping the instrument with a metal ring attached the the big toe ( you have to be quick supple of limb to do this) he adds rhythm tapping the wood with his hands, djembe style. To this he adds his distinctive soft sweet voice.

Crooners of an older generation were our second artists of the day. The Sega Sega Band travelled for 7 hours by bus from their village in Western Kenya to see us. The roads are not good and the government has banned travelling at night due to the number of accidents on the roads, so this was the only way we could meet in the time we had.

The Sega Sega Band

The Sega Sega Band, also from the Luo people, play Benga music, the style that is at the root of Kenyan pop music from the 60s to the present day. The melodies and rhythms are shaped by the tuning of the nyatiti harp and orutu, a single string fiddle which they transferred to guitars when they came in after WW2. Osumba, the lead singer is the last remaining member of this popular band, and it seemed to me, could have sat and sung for hours and hours without getting tired.

These are two ways the Luo traditions are being kept alive in Kenya, but we have only scratched the surface of the many tribes and traditions here. Our hosts, Tabu Osusa and Steve Kivutia at Ketebul music, will continue their not-for-profit search for traditional music from all over East Africa.

The Irony is that while the art and music of centuries and even millennia, is being preserved and developed in this beautiful spot, there are plans afoot to demolish the African Heritage house where we are sitting in order to run a railway line through it.

Even Art it seems cannot stand in the way of progress...

Lindsay

CC 2014 #15 Dominica

2014-05-15T12:53:26+00:00

If you have watched the Pirates of the Caribbean film then you will have seen Dominica, the nature Island and one of the most breathtakingly beautiful places I’ve ever seen.

It was only a short forty-five minute flight from the glamorous beaches of St Lucia but the atmosphere here is rural, green and very lush.

Like many people here, Isma Alie, the most famous accordion player on Dominica, is a farmer. He lives in a tiny village, literally at the end of the road, cut off by sea cliffs, growing bay trees and selling the oil for disinfectant. Jing-ping is the national dance music of Dominica and is still popular at festivals and carnival time in Dominica in local communities.

His son and grand-son are both in the group and Isma tells me he expects great things from his great-grandson who is showing signs of being musical at 5 years old. We encountered a mixture of instruments, watch out for the boum-boum, an instrument which bears a resemblance to a drain-pipe and does what it says on the tin!

Lindsay

CC 2014 #14 Malta

2014-05-07T15:45:29+00:00

It is early Sunday morning. I am waiting in a car, in a side street, in the small village of Zejtun, Malta. Malta's curse is the car and this alleyway is the only space available on a road that, like a Russian doll, gets smaller the closer you get to the centre.

I'm meeting my host, Ruben, at the local parish church (photo above) which looks far too big for this little town but it is breathtakingly beautiful and has a remarkable number of naked light bulbs dotting its walls. As this and all the other churches empty, so the bars fill up and it is in these bars that the purveyors of Ghana (pronounced aa-na), Malta's traditional folk music, gather together do battle.

Ruben, waves and instructs me to follow his car through the narrow, potholed streets until we arrive at the Ta' Ganna bar.

Street outside the Ta 'Gana Bar

The Ta' Ganna consists of one long room with a bar halfway along the right hand wall and a spiral staircase in the back left corner. Beside this staircase, six men line up and stare at the floor with intense concentration as they prepare for the 'Spirtu Pront'. In front of them, five guitarists prepare their instruments. The guitars are tuned to the singers pitch because it is the singer who rules the roost and the chords that waft through the bar waiver around the notes with a relaxed Mediterranean charm.

Ghana session in full swing

For the 'Spirtu Pront', the six men sing in turn, duelling verbally with their counterpart - the first singer spars with the third, the second with the fifth... They invent their replies on the spot and you can see their lips moving in silent rehearsal as the reply must fit the meter and rhyming structure of the songs. Today's impromptu topics include a recommendation of a workman that went wrong and the grand-standing of one of the younger singers for our recording session. An old man pulls my sleeve "that's you they're sing about" - I'm a little worried. Down the spiral staircase a steady stream of small dishes are carried to the tables, filled with pasta, butter beans, snails and olives.

Maltese Guitar

After 45 minutes of lyrical to-ing and fro-ing the session draws to a close - nothing is said other than an exchange of glances, but somehow everyone knows when to finish. They shake hands and part as friends until the next Sunday morning bout.

As I leave another man tells me that "this is dying out" but I sincerely hope he is wrong. It may sound rough around the edges but this musical gathering binds the community together. It comes from the streets, from the bars and from the heart.

Gavin

CC 2014 #13 Solomon Islands

2014-05-01T09:14:01+00:00

Panpipe Ensemble with Sushil (producer) and Joanna (engineer)

Bamboo grows in abundance all over the Solomon Islands and provides the perfect natural material for making musical instruments. Under the moonlight by the waterfront in the capital city of Honiara, bamboo drummer John Wesley, from the 13 piece Waurana Pan Pipe Ensemble, excitedly tells me about the different varieties of bamboo which grow on the islands. There is bamboo which is suitable for weaving baskets; that which is used for making mats; and a stronger cane which is suitable for making fences. Francis Nuaiasi, the public relations officer for the group interjects and shares his passion for his favourite type of bamboo, a special variety which the band use for making their own instruments. He tells me 'in Solomon Islands bamboo grows everywhere, but here we make music from it'.

waterfront at Honiara

As its right in the middle of rainy season, I go to the Solomon Islands Broadcasting Corporation radio studios in Honiara to capture a truly mesmerising, hi-energy performance from the band. Bamboo never sounded sweeter! The ensemble makes full use of the natural resource which grows all around them to create a truly joyful, life-affirming sound. Their music consists largely of fast tempo numbers accompanied by an incredibly energetic form of dancing. The musicians swaying along in tight rhythm to their fast paced music is a sight to behold! The band are dressed in traditional costumes, with shells, bones and quite frankly not wearing much else; perfect for today's tropical temperature. Drummer John Wesley and his co-percussionists are beating the life out of some of the longer tubes of bamboo with a set of rubber flip flops to create a deep bass-like sound which contrasts with the high notes from the players on the frontline with their smaller bamboo flutes creating bird like noises making their instruments sing and almost take flight.

This form of music making is mostly heard during the feasting ceremonies and these instrumentals are inspired by wildlife (Wild Duck Song), religion (God Is Great) and nature and plant life. Lead bamboo player Ben Kaumanski tells me in his native Pidgin language that his composition 'Digging for Swamp Taro' is about an important starchy, staple food source and that no feast is complete without this important plant. He also tells me, before he bursts into the most infectious laughter, that he believes his group can make 'anybody dance' and indeed the band celebrate this fact in their composition Zuluzulu (Dancing Song). My toes were certainly tapping at this fascinating music session and I'm sure yours will be too when you enter the amazing sound world of the Waurana Pipe Ensemble.

Sushil

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Sushil at work by the Air-Con

CC 2014 #11 Cyprus

2014-04-17T16:38:13+00:00

Ice crystals on the window flying to Larnaca

Flying to Larnaca, I read that "Cypriots do not use indicators whilst driving - make eye contact at intersections before you pull out". Nervously navigating our hire car from the airport, my first impressions didn’t alleviate my concern; it's hard to gauge whether the men in the cafes are friendly as they rarely look up from their wooden backgammon boards, devilishly strong coffee and water chasers.

Just such a man greets me as I arrive at his house in Sia Village, south of Nicosia. It's late and the dusky light is sinking behind the carob orchard. Michaelis Terlikkas (below) is stocky, with thick, greying hair, wearing his trademark leather waistcoat and sporting a large bushy moustache that he twists and adjusts all evening. Though not very tall, he is an imposing character.

We exchange few words as my grasp of Greek is non-existent and I busy myself studying my notes on his songs and music.

Michaelis then brings out an unmarked bottle and some shot glasses. He, the other musicians and I must drink. It's the rule! The liquid looks and feels like pure alcohol. We record 4 wonderful traditional Cypriot songs, then drink. It's the rule apparently!

Recording completed, it's time to tidy up and leave.

There is another rule however - eat! And so the table starts to fill up with plates of food. Tomatoes and lettuce from his garden, halloumi and feta rubbed with oregano, olives, homemade sourdough bread, sausage and meat fritters stuffed with cheese and wine from his friends vineyard. We eat, we drink and through broken English and flailing hand gestures we chatter, laugh, drink and laugh some more.

First impressions are now lost in a haze of friendship and 55% proof Zivania and I will sleep well through the warm Cyprus night.

Gavin