Leap In The Dark

While its well known how popular music has changed throughout the years, its not often that popular music is used to document the changing of the years or figures in history. Popular music is usually considered far too frivolous a thing to deal with the weighty matters of history. History books are always about the rich and powerful and the decisions they make affecting the type of people who listen to popular music - so what kind of contribution could it make to recounting the important events of the past?

The thing is, when history is only about the wealthy and powerful, it ends up being only told from their point of view. As a result people like Carnegie and Rockefeller become heroes while the union organizers who fought them and their thugs for things we now take for granted, like the forty hour work week and child labour laws, are still depicted as villains. For the longest time it was only through the songs of those eras by people like Joe Hill, framed on a murder charge and shot by Salt Lake Police, that versions of events aside from the ones in the history books existed. Recently there have been moves towards more populist versions of history as people like Howard Zinn try to recount events from different perspectives.

So, not only is there a tradition of popular music giving us a different perspective of history, there's now also more of an interest than ever in finding out more about when on "behind the scenes", so to speak, of the big events in history. Over the last few years Stace England and his band the Salt Kings have put out two albums, Cairo Illinois and Salt Sex Slaves, which have been done just that by recounting events that you won't find a record of in most history text books. With their latest album they've moved into the twentieth century in order to give us not just a glimpse of events but a person. The Amazing Oscar Micheaux, available for download now and being released in the new year on Rankoutsider Records, introduces listeners to America's first major African-American film director.

Between the years of 1919 and 1948, Oscar Micheaux was the only black homesteader in South Dakota, published seven novels, and wrote, produced and directed forty-four movies staring and about African-Americans. His first movie, The Homesteader, was based on his experiences in South Dakota, but if a movie about a black homesteader dealing with racism wasn't bad enough, Within Our Gates his second feature, depicted whites raping black women, attempting to lynch black families, and showed the Ku Klux Klan as criminals and vigilantes. While that may sound like a pretty accurate depiction to us, you have to realize that D. W. Griffith's Birth Of A Nation released in 1919, depicted just the opposite; black men trying to ravish delicate white beauties, and the Klan heroically preserving white honour.

It wasn't only whites that Micheaux managed to upset, various black civic groups were unhappy with his rather unpleasant habit of attempting to always show the truth on screen. Some of his movies dealt with the very contentious issue of passing; where fair skinned black people attempted to "pass" as white people and not suffer the same discrimination as the darker complexioned members of their community. In fact God's Stepchildren, his 1933 movie on that subject, was picketed at its premier in Harlem by black community leaders and members of the communist party for being racist. However it was more usual for white communities to be unhappy with his work, whether from their depiction of a drunken and lecherous reverend in Body And Soul (which featured Paul Robeson's film debut), or his continuing to challenge Griffith's stereotypes by having African-Americans standing up to the Klan and running them off.

Each of the twelve tracks on England's release either deals with one of Micheaux's movies or provides us with a glimpse into the world in which these movies were released. While track one, "The Homesteader", taken from the name of both the novel and film based on Micheaux's experiences in South Dakota as the only black homesteader, talks about the struggles of settler to eke out a living, track two takes a somewhat different approach. "Vendome" was the name of the theatre in Chicago where Micheaux's film The Homesteader was shown and it brings to life the excitement African-American people must have felt about seeing themselves depicted accurately on the big screen. "Folks like us up on that silver screen/Two reels in we're going to be celebrating".

Appropriately enough the final song on the disc is taken from the final movie of Micheaux's career, The Betrayal. While the director had hoped to create one last epic to cement his legacy, the three hour plus movie made in 1948 was universally panned. For the first time he received mainstream press attention, The New York Times, only to see them cut the movie to shreds, and even papers that had been his staunch allies turned on him. The song's lyrics reflect both how the director, by sticking to his guns, burnt a lot of bridges and alienated people during his career, and the results of those actions. "What will do when they have forgotten/All is forsaken and friends you have none/You can't go home over smouldering bridges...

As is usual for England and his band, with help from friends on some tracks, they employ from a multitude of genres to help tell the story. While the music might not be from the era represented by the disc, what they've chosen for each song has the appropriate feel to deliver the emotional message they are trying for. It might not have been the music that Micheaux would have chosen as the soundtrack for his silent movies, but it sure works as an introduction to it.

Once again England has taken an overlooked piece of American history, this time a person, and opened our eyes to what we've been missing. Intelligent and musically as interesting as ever, England and the Salt Kings make another convincing argument that popular music has a role to play in helping us tell our histories. With The Amazing Oscar Micheaux they have not only done the great service of ensuring a remarkable man is not overlooked, but are doing their best to rekindle interest in the work that makes him important. Aside from the CD, the band is also doing multimedia performances featuring clips his films (Micheaux clips accompanied by tracks from the CD are on line as well) and live performances of an original score to the movie Within Our Gates - a performance which won them praise at the Rome International Film Festival in 2009.

In the future, when they go to write the history of our times, we should hope the equivalent of Stace England And The Salt Kings are around to help ensure the complete story is told. Without people like them who knows what or who might be forgotten or overlooked.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 07:54 PM | Permalink

There's an old saying, "Seeing is believing", and on occasions there's truth to those old sayings. Now I know quite a number of people who don't find seeing music on video very satisfying, and if it were the days before stereo sound and digital imaging I could understand. In those days not only was the footage not very good, but the sound was vastly inferior to anything you could hear through your home audio equipment. That was especially true for the more complex genres like classical or jazz. If you had the option of either listening to a track through your stereo or watching it on your television the former would win out every time.

Times have changed of course, and with the advent of DVDs, and not only stereo signals coming through televisions but surround sound as well, watching a performance on home video equipment has not only become more rewarding than just listening to it through the stereo, but in some cases even better than being there in person. People can talk all they want about the "experience" of a live concert, but I'm too old and fussy to want to be one of a hundred thousand people in a football stadium barely able to see even the video screens broadcasting the performance I came to watch. If I'm going to watch it on video I might as well have stayed at home where I could be comfortable and the sound would be a lot better.

Of course seeing a band in a small club is another thing all together, and if you have the chance to attend a gig where you know the sound is going to be good than there's still nothing to beats that for the intimacy and immediacy that it provides. However if you can't be there in person, then a well shot DVD comes pretty close to capturing the moment for you. I was reminded of all this because a short while ago I reviewed the CD
CD version of a concert that jazz saxophonist Fred Anderson performed at his club the Velvet Lounge with some old friends to help celebrate his eightieth birthday last May, and now have had the chance to view the DVD of 21st Century Chase: 80th Birthday Bash Live At The Velvet Lounge put out by Delmark Records.

As on the CD he's accompanied on saxophone by the equally redoubtable Kidd Jordan, and they start the set off with a thirty minute plus version of the old Dexter Gordon/Wardell Gray tune written back in 1947, "The Chase". It has long since become the archetypical tenor saxophone "battle piece", where two tenor players compete and complement each other's improvisations. As one of the co-founders of the Association For The Advancement Of Creative Musicians (AACM) in Chicago back in the early 1960's Fred Anderson's bread and butter is improvisation. His buddy Jordan is no slouch either having been at the forefront of the avant-garde jazz movement on the West Coast while Anderson was setting up shop in Chicago.

Perhaps somebody more well versed in jazz than myself wouldn't need a video recording to fully appreciate their performances, but for me watching them at work was a revelation. For example, listening to "21st Century Chase Part I" on the CD I had assumed that the two men had been trading solos, that I had been listening to one player at a time. What was being played was so seamlessly perfect it had to be the work of one man hitting the high tremors and harmonizing low notes simultaneously. However watching showed both men playing with Anderson hanging onto every high note that Jordan played and inserting his counterpoints in such perfect order that with your eyes closed it sounded like one man.

While listening to the CD I was well aware that there was a guitarist (Jeff Parker), a bass player (Harrison Bankhead) and a drummer (Chad Taylor, but seeing them in action really brought home the power of their contributions. I don't think I've ever really appreciated the intricacies of avant-garde jazz bass and drum work as much as I do now after watching Bankhead and Taylor at work. They both seemed to be skimming over their instruments without rhyme nor reason, but at the same time what ever it was they were doing was perfect for what else was happening on the stage. Parker, on the other hand, turned out to be the one holding down what most of us would recognize as the melody of whatever tune was being played. He was the calm in the centre of a mini storm of jazz improvisation that ebbed and flowed around him.

The DVD also comes with an extra track from that night's performance, and it features Bankhead switching over to cello and another old friend, Henry Grimes< picking up the bass. "Gone But Not Forgotten" sounds like it could be for all the ones who have gone before them. It feels like they've tapped into that great fountain of emotion which provides the joy we feel at the memory of the pleasure those who have gone used to bring us and the sorrow over the fact they are aren't here to be sharing the moment any longer. There's something about the extra underpinning of sound, perhaps the depth, that the combination of bass and cello bring to the song, which allows them to capture far more than you would expect from an instrumental of that duality of emotion we all feel for those who are no longer with us and meant so much.

If you appreciated and enjoyed the CD version of 21st Century Chase: 80th Birthday Bash, Live At The Velvet Lounge the DVD version will surely enhance that experience. It doesn't hurt matters that Delmark records have become past masters at bringing to life the music of Chicago's clubs and bars on DVD whether its blues or jazz. Using five handheld cameras and great editing they capture everything needed to bring you right on stage with the performers and the excitement of being in the intimate surroundings of the club. With Dolby 5.1 surround sound and 16:9 wide-screen format complementing their expertise in shooting and cutting the material, watching the result on your home screen will make a believer in the power of jazz and the abilities of Fred Anderson and his friends out of anybody. You might not be able to get to Chicago for these concerts, but these DVDs come as close as possible to bringing them to you.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 06:34 AM | Permalink

There are two ways of looking at a blank page if you're a writer; either as an opportunity or as an indication of how bereft you are of ideas. Sometimes you can stare at the blankness, and even though you know what you want to write the challenge its empty visage presents renders you speechless. That first word you put down on the page will commit you to the attempt of beginning something new, and sometimes finding the courage to begin, to overcome your uncertainties, is too much and you simply walk away. Either putting the pen down without writing a word or shut off the word processor with there being nothing to save.

It was in early 2009 that I first suggested the idea of writing a biography of Willy DeVille to his wife Nina. Willy had just been diagnosed with Hepatitis C and would be spending the next while undergoing a series of treatments to help his body recover. As he had been forced to cancel all his recording and touring obligations I had thought that he and I could work on it together over the winter. He could record thoughts on tape and I could start writing them out. However before I could even suggest the idea I received an offer to work on another project, which was to begin almost immediately and ended up taking up all my time until nearly June/09.

I've written ,a href="http://blogcritics.org/music/article/a-thank-you-to-willy-deville/">elsewhere elsewhere about the events of this past spring, of Nina writing me in May of 2009 to let me know Willy had been diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer, which is as close to a death sentence that you can be given without a court order from a judge in Texas. So when I was finally able to bring up the subject of perhaps Willy trying to record a few notes about his life for me to use it was June and he wasn't even well enough to do that. The drugs he was taking for the pain, and the cancer itself, were not only sapping his strength, but they were also stealing his brain.

However, Nina gave me the go ahead to work on a biography, saying that Willy had liked my writing and really, really liked me and it would be an honour if I could put it together. That was a bit overwhelming, believe me; I go asking permission to write Willy's biography and not only does Nina say yes but makes it sound like I'm doing them a favour. I knew Willy had been pleased with how our interviews had turned out, had like the reviews I had written of a couple of his CDs and DVDs, and the liner notes I had written for another DVD, but this was a little more than that. However, after I got over the initial burst of "Wow", the sense of responsibility set in. Nina was entrusting me to preserve her husband's legacy.

The thing is, I don't even like most biographies. I find the format of repeating what other people have had to say about somebody in order to create a portrait of a person to be annoying. I know I'm exaggerating, but they end up feeling like you're reading one long series of he said this and did that after another which doesn't allow you to get to know the subject. So the first thing I decided was that there was no way I was going to write a book like that. However, what are the alternatives?

Of course no matter what the format, the research still has to be done to fill in the gaps in my knowledge. Luckily for me people began to contact me with their stories about Willy over the summer. I had taken upon myself to begin a petition to have Willy considered for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in June which required that one of my e-mail addresses be made public. As a result various people began to contact me to talk about Willy. Nobody knew about the plans for the biography at the time, it was more they were looking for a sympathetic ear to talk about what he meant to them. Amongst those who contacted me were people who had known Willy when he was still Billy Borsey from Stamford Connecticut and they've proven to not only be valuable for the information they have been able to provide, but as moral support for the process.

There have been other people from all over North America and Europe who have been equally generous with their memories and even photographs, a great many of which have never appeared in print before. Some have perhaps appeared on web sites, but none of them have been published in the pages of a book. Most important of all, I've started to hear from musicians Willy played with over the years. From people who were in bands with him before Mink DeVille, members of Mink DeVille from the CBGBs days, to people who played with him on his last tour of Europe in the summer of 2008. It doesn't seem to matter if they played with him for twenty years or toured with him once - he still made enough of an impression for them to want to talk about him.

The raw material is being assembled - pages and pages of people's thoughts and memories and transcripts of old interviews; audio and video tapes of interviews that he gave on various radio stations and for television shows; and of course his music. Some sixteen CDs worth of original recordings plus greatest hits packages, his contributions to collections commemorating people as diverse as Edith Piaf and Johnny Thunders, and the vast assortment of recordings that have been uploaded onto You-Tube since his death. Somewhere within all of this is the story of Willy DeVille and it will now be a matter of finding the connecting threads and tying them all together in a coherent fashion so I can relate it to readers.

Which brings me back to that blank page I mentioned in the first paragraph. The sensible thing would be to create an outline - a chapter by chapter breakdown of the book detailing what each will be about and its significance in terms of Willy the person and Willy the artist. My idea is to take all the information and turn it into a third person narrative so that it reads like a novel. At first I thought it would be best to follow some sort of chronological order - travel with him from Stamford Connecticut to CBGBs, then continue down south with him to New Orleans and his time spent wandering in the desert in the South West, and then back to New York City.

Yet as I sit staring at the blinking cursor on the page I wonder if that will be enough. I've been entrusted with a man's legacy and the thought threatens to overwhelm me at times. I don't really give a fig about people's expectations for the book - I'm bound to disappoint somebody no matter what I write. What I care about is doing justice to my subject. How do you tell the story of a person's life with only words on a page and still images? It's like suggesting a butterfly pinned onto a piece of paper under glass gives you any indication of what it was like alive. While including audio and video samples of his work with the book will help, as the video embedded in this story proves out, it will only capture one small facet of him, not bring him completely to life.

I'll just have to reconcile myself to failing, but make the best damn attempt I can. That may sound defeatist, but unless I realize that before I start I'm never going to start because I'll never get over my fear of failing. Accepting the impossibility of a task and spitting in its eye by going ahead and doing it anyway is what Willy did most of his career. So I can't think of a more appropriate approach to be taking. He played his music for the love of it and hoped for the best; I'll write this book for my love of what he gave the world and hope for the best.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 06:21 PM | Permalink

I can't think of a more difficult job for a translator than translating poetry. Unlike prose it's not just a simple matter of turning one language into another, you also have to worry about conveying whatever ideas are suggested but not spelt out in the poem. How many times have you read a poem where the poet has made use of a word's dual meanings, or the combining of words in a specific way, to suggest something other than the literal meaning of the words in question? There's almost no way you can do a literal translation in those circumstances. On top of that you also have to worry about staying true to the form of the original poem.

While that's definitely not an easy job, a sure fire way of compounding it is if the poetry in question happens to have been written in a language that's no longer in current usage and by writers whose culture has little or nothing in common with your own. For the last couple of weeks I've been working my way through a deceptively slim volume published by the New York University Press of four works written in Sanskrit from Southern India dating from between the fourteenth and sixteenth centuries, "Self Surrender", "Peace", "Compassion", & "The Mission Of The Grey Goose": Poems and Prayers From South India. Translators, and Sanskrit scholars, David Shulman and Yigal Bronner have not only taken on the task of translating four pieces from the classical Indian cannon, the items in question represent the work of three pre-eminent philosopher/poets, one from the Vaishnavas tradition of Hinduism, who worshipped Vishnu as the original and supreme being, and two whose worship was directed more towards the god Shiva.

Vedanta Deshika reportedly lived to be 101 (1268 - 1369) and has contributed two pieces to this collection, the story poem "The Mission of The Goose" and "Compassion" with its ironic sub-title "The Iron Shackles Of Mercy". Appayya Dikshita and his nephew (or grandson - there seems to be some dispute about this as a couple of sites refer to him as the latter) Nila-katha Dikshita lived close to two hundred years after Deshika, 1520 -1592 for the elder and 1580 - 1644 for the younger, and their contributions to the book are "Self Surrender" and "Peace" respectively. While the former reflects the author's devotion to Shiva, the younger poet's work is more along the lines of what we would consider satire as it details the lack of peace in his life due to his association with a ruler and his court.

Those familiar with the epic poem The Ramayana will recognize the circumstances and characters depicted in "The Mission Of The Goose". Rama, one of the avatars of Vishnu worshipped by those who follow the Vaishnavas tradition, is attempting to send a message to his wife Sita who has been kidnapped by the ten headed demon Ravana, and taken to his island kingdom of Lanka. While Rama is awaiting the construction of a bridge to carry him to Lanka and rescue his beloved he sends a message to her by goose. The poem details instruction he gives the goose to make the journey in safety and what he will find when arrives there.

Without the historical context the translators provide in the introduction to the book, the reader wouldn't understand some of its deeper complexities. For instance part of the directions Rama gives to the goose include visiting a temple that won't be built until the time of the poet - a temple that was built in honour of Rama. Throughout the poem the poet has depicted Rama as a man desperate to be reunited with his wife and embodied him with all the attributes of a lover and husband that we'd expect. With this reference he reminds us how he considers Rama the god on earth in human form and the importance of worshipping him. In fact the majority of the directions contain that sort of double reference to help guide people in their worship. Rama's warning to the goose to not let the beauty of what he sees in flight distract him from his purpose, is a reminder to not let material things distract from the worship of the divine.

Obviously not being either Hindu or an expert in Sanskrit, I'm not in the best of positions to judge as to the quality of the translations. However I couldn't help but be jarred by something I noticed in their translation of the second of Deshika's pieces, "Compassion". Time after time they refer to Vishnu using the pronoun God. To my mind, and I would think to most Western readers, the word god with a capital G has very specific connotations, that of a supreme deity in a monotheistic tradition. While its true that Deshika does practice a form of Hinduism that elevates Vishnu above the other gods, this usage still seems out of place in the context of the poem and the culture its referring too.

However the same usage also appears in both "Peace" and "Self-Surrender", neither of which are about Vishnu. The question for me became what are they trying to imply with the word God? In the minds of most people reading these translations it will conjure up images of a supreme deity who not only dictates how we are to behave, but sits in judgement on that behaviour. Even if there is a god above others in a pantheon that's not the role they play. Couldn't there have been a better way of referring to whomever it was they meant by that pronoun to ensure that those connotations were avoided?

Having read an adaptation of The Ramayana I enjoyed "The Mission Of The Goose" and was looking forward to reading the balance of the poems included in the book. Maybe it's being unreasonable on my part, or overly sensitive, but I found the use of the capital G god pronoun so questionable, I was too distracted to give myself over to simply enjoying the poetry and appreciating them for the works they were. Perhaps it's also a sign that I'm unable to overcome years of conditioning which tell me that God is the bearded guy in the clouds who smites us down if we misbehave. However, if I, who am not an adherent to any of the monotheistic religions can't overcome that - how could those who are?

It's the responsibility of translators when working in another culture to ensure they don't impose, whether on purpose or by accident, their own beliefs or ideas. Whether or not Bronner and Shulman intended to imply there was a similarity between the monotheistic traditions of the West and Hinduism, they did so by the use of one word. As a result, what had started off as an enjoyable adventure in trying to learn more about the poetry of an early and fascinating period of world history, turned into me questioning the veracity of what I was reading to the point of giving up in frustration. Perhaps we should leave the translation of works in other cultures to them and stick to our own in the future. That would sure save a lot of confusion.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 04:03 AM | Permalink

The Silk Road criss-crossed through Asia and the East from Europe to China carrying merchandise, particularly silk, between the two continents. In the days before shipping was a reliable form of travel, without the Suez Canal the only way from Europe to Asia was via bottom most tip of Africa and there was as much chance of going down as making that passage successfully in the early days of sailing, the overland route was considered a lot safer. The Silk road wasn't of course an actual road, and the caravan routes that it was made up of traversed many countries and went in as many directions as there was trade to be conducted.

Aside from the obvious trade implications, the Silk Road also represented the first real communications between Europe, China, Japan, and the other countries of that region. As always, although believing itself superior, the West benefited most from the exchange bringing home pasta, silks, spices, and of course gunpowder. Although there wasn't necessarily reciprocity in the exchange between the two cultures, the idea of naming a musical ensemble interested in bringing together Eastern and Western music after the earliest known trade route between the two cultures makes a great deal of sense.

Which is exactly what world renowned cellist Yo Yo Ma did when he formed The Silk Road Ensemble a collective of around 60 musician, composers, arrangers, visual artists, and storytellers from twenty plus countries. Not only is the intent of the group to integrate the work of one culture with another, its to do so while maintaining the integrity of an art form's cultural traditions. Is it possible to take a piece of work composed by a Latin American composer and have it performed on traditional Chinese and Indian instruments while remaining true to both the composer's and performers' traditions? As the saying goes, the proof is in the pudding, and in this case that's the forthcoming release on the World Village Music of the ensemble's new release Off The Map on November 10th/09.

The disc contains four new works that reflect the cultural diversity of the ensemble not just because of the composers' nationalities, but also due to the nature of the work they ended up producing. "Ritmos Anchinos", by Gabriela Lena Frank, "Empty Mountain, Spirit Rain" by Angel Lam, "Sulvasutra" by Evan Ziporyn, and "Air To Air" by Osvaldo Golijov each represent the individual composer's attempt to implement the overall objectives of ensemble. Each of them not only developed their own approach to finding a way of doing just that, they've done so without sacrificing artistic or musical integrity.

The biggest worry I have about projects like this is that the politics will over ride the art; the composers will lose track of music in an attempt to fulfill the mission statement of the organization. I guess I should have known better, this is not a collection of new age "wanna-be's", but a group of serious and dedicated musicians and composers who not only obviously love music, but have a deep and abiding respect for other's cultures and traditions. So whether it's American born Spanish-American Frank writing with the Chinese guitar like instrument the pipa in mind, or Hong Kong born and Western trained Lam composing a piece centred on the Japanese flute, the shakuhachi in an attempt to articulate a young girl's confusion about death, you never once have the feeling that they have compromised anything in the process. If anything the challenge posed by incorporating the new elements has pushed them to create works that are stunning in both their beauty and intelligence.

As with the case in most contemporary compositions there are elements in each of these pieces that are going to be difficult for those used to more "traditional" European classical music to assimilate. In this case not only will the listener have to be prepared for the usual structural differences that are to be expected with new music, but will also need to adjust to hearing the sound of instruments we are unfamiliar with like the two mentioned above, or in Golijov's piece previously recorded music. However, if you're willing to let go of preconceived notions of what music is "supposed" to be and allow yourself to settle into the individual pieces, the rewards will be well worth the effort. Beauty is in such short supply these days closing our minds to any new potential for its experience is tantamount to criminal. Allow this music to work its magic on you and find whole new vistas of possibilities for its appreciation being opened for you.

In order to make it easier for you to appreciate the work, the booklet accompanying the CD contains notes in the form of conversations between the composers and one of the musicians who performed their piece talking about its composition. In each case they talk about what they are trying to accomplish and how they've set out to achieve that end. What this does is give you a framework, or a context, within which to place the music, and goes a long way to helping you understand what it is you are listening to.

In the end though its all music, and music does the same basic things the world over; expresses our inner thoughts and emotions. The sounds might be a little different than we're used to, but the language is still the same, and its still talking about all the same subjects music has ever talked about. The pity is that more of the world's communication isn't being done through music.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 09:21 AM | Permalink

Well in about ten days I'm going to be doing my first appearance as a professional author! Who'd have thunk it? Not me - at least not in this fashion. By now most people who read this page will know that last January Ulysses Press in the US commissioned me to write a book predicting what would happen in the fourth instalment of Christopher Paolini's Inheritance cycle. The main reason such a fuss is being made over the fourth book is that he had originally only planned on it being a trilogy, but was half-way through writing the third book, Brisingr, when he came to understand that if he wanted to do the story justice he needed an extra book.

Naturally his fans were disappointed that they weren't going to be seeing the conclusion to the series immediately, but once they had devoured the third book they quickly recovered and speculation has run amuck since as to how things were going to turn out. Which is why Ulysses Press thought there was an opportunity for a book like What Will Happen In Eragon IV? to be of interest to some people. Of course there are going to be those who see this as a shameless attempt to cash in on somebody else's fame and creativity, and I did wrestle with that for twenty-four hours. However also saw it as an chance to have some fun and exercise my brain in a direction I've never tried before.

I had no idea whether I could write about something like this and make it interesting to the people who like Paolini's books, and I still don't. What I do know is that it was much harder work than I anticipated it being, and if I were going to try and exploit somebody else's work and ideas I'd have found a much easier way of doing it - Believe you me!

Now the purpose of this post isn't to justify my writing of this book, it's to invite any of you who are going to be in Kingston Ontario on November 14th to come down to Indigo Books at 259 Princess Street between 2:00 pm. and 4:00 pm to for the opportunity of having your book signed - or purchasing a copy and having it signed if you haven't already done so, and maybe even taking some time to talk about the book and what you think is going to happen and why.

You can also leave your comments about my predictions at the books own web site if you can't make it down to the store to give me a piece of your mind. Hopefully though I'll see you there. Indigo shipped in forty copies of the book and I'd really like to make sure they're not stuck with any of them after Saturday the 14th - in fact it would be really cool if they have to order more. You can also pick up a copy just down the street from Indigo at Novel Idea - corner of Princess and Bagot - as they have a few copies on the shelf ( in the young adult section at the back of the store right next to their copies of the Inheritance cycle)

Please, do not, like those poor misguided souls at amazon.com who have left negative reviews, confuse my efforts with the actual fourth book of the series, I'm not sure how you could as it clearly states on the cover of the book my name as author and that the book is not associated with, authorized or approved by Christopher Paolini or his publishers ( Well they did approve it - at least so much as promise not to sue me for stealing Paolini's intellectual property as it's obvious any of his work I've quoted has been purely for analytical purposes)

So hopefully you'll read the book and at the very least it will make you think if not even change your mind about what you think will happen. Remember there is a big difference between what you think and what you hope will happen.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 08:41 AM | Permalink

If there is one genre of popular music that has managed to to both refrain from being co-opted by commercial and corporate interests yet still remain culturally significant, it would have to be jazz. Of course there have been moments when one performer or another has captured the public's imagination and the industry has tried to cash in by attempting to replicate that person's success with imitators, never meeting with anything but limited success.

One of the true glories of jazz is that it remains the purview of the individual, and you can no more recreate or imitate one person's music, to any degree of success, than could a dancer duplicate what another does exactly. Oh they might be able to follow the same steps, hold their arms in exactly the same manner, but they won't imbue it with the same spirit. The same spirit that made it so attractive to the audience in the first place. Like dance, the personality of the individual performing in jazz is what helps establish the connection between the performer and the audience. No matter how hard they try, record companies still haven't figured out how to mass produce individuals so they can cash in on his or her creativity.

Like so much of our popular music, jazz developed out of the music brought over to North America from Africa by those who were dragged into slavery. In the latter part of the 20th century, specifically the 1960's, jazz started to become an avenue through which many African American musicians began to explore their African heritage. Whether through improvisation around rhythms or collaborations with musicians with more direct ties to the continent, a real sense of who they are and where they came from has started to appear in the music of many of todays African American jazz players.

Such is the case with the latest collaboration between David Murray & The Gwo Ka Masters, The Devil Tried To Kill Me, on Justin Time Records. This is the third recording American Murray has made with this group of musicians from Guadeloupe. The tiny island nation is unique in that former slaves who inhabited the island rebelled and achieved independence 100 years before slavery was abolished in the United States. Although their state hood only lasted a decade, they were integrated into France after ten years, their history is unique among African Americans in the Western hemisphere. As Christian Laviso, guitar player on the disc puts it, "The Americans lost their drums...that is what they seek here, the rhythms and melodies of our ancestors"

Murray, (tenor saxophone and bass clarinet) and Laviso, are joined by; Jaribu Shahid (bass), Renzel Merrit (drums), Klod Kiavue (Ka Drums), Francois Landrezeau (Ka Drums), Rasul Siddik (Trumpet), Herve Samb (guitar), and special guest vocalists Taj Mahal and Sista Kee. While the music on the disc has elements that will be familiar to anyone with jazz, there's also the distinct flavour of the Caribbean to it that gives it a texture I've not heard before. It's hard to describe as it doesn't come across as any particular sound or rhythm, but more like a sense of overall movement that is different from almost anything else I've come across in either jazz or music from the islands either.

All the tracks on the disc are original tunes with music by Murray, and lyrics for "Africa", and "The Devil Tried To Kill Me" by poet Ishmael Reed and "Southern Skis" by Grace Rutledge and Kito Gamble. There are two versions of both "Africa" and "Southern Skies" included on the disc, with the second ones being shorter versions edited for radio play. "Southern Skies" and "Africa" stand out in particular on the disc for their provocative lyrics. "Africa", which features Taj Mahal's growl, looks at the continent from the point of view of a person describing how they would provide care for it if they were a hospice worker and Africa were a patient in an infirmary. Aside from ensuring she has enough food and proper medical care, the hospice worker would also ensure that Africa's bed pan was emptied, her sheets would be changed regularly and her body washed carefully to make sure there was no chance of bed sores.

It's hard to figure whether Reed who wrote "Africa" sees the continent as being that sick, is commenting on the neglect and lack of care shown her by the rest of the world, or is describing the depth of his love for her - or even a little bit of all the above. "Southern Skies" on the other hand is more direct in its statement as it is a lament for the ill treatment of African American women at the hands of men. Sista Kee and Taj Mahal share the vocals on this song, with both of them delivering the solid message that things have to change: "Southern sky is cryin cause she/Still payin dues".

As leader of the band you'd expect David Murray to be front and centre on most of the material, and while he delivers some great solos with his tenor saxophone, there's a wonderful point on the opening track "Kiama Fro Obama", where he takes flight, his priority is obviously the integration of the two different styles of music. Even the solo on track one is built up to gradually over the course of the tune until it finally rises up almost of its own volition - as if the saxophone was some mysterious tropical bird bursting out of its lush jungle background. The other occasion I noticed Murray's playing in particular was on track six ""Canto Oneguine", taken from an opera about the Russian author Pushkin - who was of Cameroonian descent - which Murray wrote the music for.

Bass clarinet is not the most common of instruments, so for a second I was slightly puzzled as to what could be making one of the most soulful sounds I've heard from a woodwind before. Like a rich baritone voice, its sound was like a balm to the ears as it literally caresses them with its playing. Even when Murray gradually climbed the scale there was an elegance to the sound I've never associated with a clarinet. Usually there is something very aggressive and strident about the instrument that pushes it into the forefront whether its meant to be there or not. In this case, however, it blended itself in with the other instruments as a compliment to the overall sound of the piece.

The Devil Tried To Kill Me is an example of how fiercely independent jazz is, and the benefits that we listeners derive from the fact that the music industry hasn't figured out how to control it yet. The combination of different styles of music contained within the eight tracks of the disc is not something you're liable to find on recordings of any type aside from jazz. The playing, and singing, from all involved is exemplary, with Murray's saxophone and bass clarinet leading from within instead of dragging everyone behind him. American and Caribbean music come together on this disc to create a sound as distinct as their individual parts, as unified as their common ancestry, and a genuine pleasure to listen to.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 12:52 AM | Permalink

I've always believed that if you want to truly understand a people and their culture you need to read the stories they've written, or told, about themselves. Its from these works that we can get an accurate depiction of what a people believe in, what guides their behaviour, and the philosophical and moral precepts they base their code of conduct on. While reading religious texts or morality tales may well outline the hierarchy among the Gods and the requirements placed upon a people for living a holy life, it's only in the stories that we see them in their day to day living. Of course, the stories are also a much more reliable indicator of the tenor of the times they were written in; for while a dictate in a religious text may not change over the centuries, the way people react to its strictures will vary from age to age.

Interestingly enough a number of peoples have turned to their own stories in an attempt to remind themselves of who they are in order to either stave off cultural extinction, like Native Americans and First Nations people in America and Canada respectively, or to reclaim their history and culture from former colonial masters. In India, for example, the British managed to rewrite history so successfully, the nineteenth century bid for independence by Indians is still referred to in most history books as the Indian Mutiny. So instead of it being depicted as the attempt of an oppressed people to throw off the invader it seems an illegal act against a legitimate governing body.

While you can understand the logic behind those efforts to re-visit older stories, what reason would an Englishman have for a similar project? There doesn't seem much danger of that culture becoming extinct nor has there been any recent attempt by a foreign power to re-write their history. Yet British author Peter Ackroyd has written a modern language version of Geoffrey Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales, being published by Penguin Canada on November 3rd/09.

The original Canterbury Tales is credited with being the first major work of literature written in English. There's no denying it's historical significance either, as at the time French was the common language of the educated, the nobles, and Kings and Queens, the majority of whom were descendants of the Norman invaders of 1066. However, after the publication of Chaucer's book, that all began to change, and by the time the next king crowned English had become the official language of the court and learning. Of course the English it was originally written in is as foreign to most of us as if it were another language - anybody who remembers trying to struggle through reading "The Tale of the Wyf of Bathe" (Wife of Bath) in high school can attest to that - so aside from scholars, most people have probably never read Canterbury Tales in its entirety.

For those who might have forgotten, or never known, the basic story of The Canterbury Tales is a group of pilgrims setting out from London to Canterbury in order to visit the tomb of St.Thomas Becket, agree to each tell the others a story while they travel in order to pass the time more pleasantly. Aside from Chaucer himself who acts as narrator of the overall events, the party consists of a cross section of the time's society with about a fifty/fifty split between those in the employ of the Church and lay folk. Instead of referring to individuals by name, each of the party is identified by their position be it priest, nun, squire, knight, merchant, pardoner, summoner, friar, or Wife of Bath.

Some of the titles, like pardoner (sold pardons for sins on behalf of the church), and summoner (summoned folk to ecclesiastical courts), were positions in the church that have long since been abolished due to the abuses of those who filled their offices. Others like franklin, the name given to a landowner not of noble birth, and manciple, who we would refer to either as a quartermaster or supply clerk, have long since fallen out of common usage. However, no matter what their title or status, none of them are safe from the caustic commentary of Chaucer's pen. Whether it's the "Knight's Tale" full of extreme examples of chivalry, elaborate and overblown acts of piety, and idyllic depiction of romantic love or the Friar's and Summoner's bawdy and caustic tales about the other's vocation, he manages to satirize both the teller of the tale and tsome aspect of his times.

According to Ackroyd's introduction when Chaucer went to Italy the major lesson he gleaned from the works he studied there was the importance of producing works in the vernacular of the people you're writing for. For a culture to thrive, it can't just be the province of the ruling classes, everybody needs at least be given the chance to enjoy it. By rendering The Canterbury Tales in language that most of the English speaking world can understand, Ackroyd is following in Chaucer's footsteps and making the work not only accessible to a new generation, but to a far wider audience then ever before.

Unlike earlier interpretations, which have adhered to the poetic structure of the original work and tried to be as faithful as possible to the text, Ackroyd's version is not only in prose but he has replaced words that are no longer in common usage with ones that convey similar meanings while retaining true to the spirit of the text. He's done a remarkable job, because while he has recreated the style of the original text, in that the cadences and manner it is presented are similar to middle English texts I've read, the language is sufficiently of the 20th century that no one should have any trouble understanding it.

Earlier I asked whether there was anything that could be learned from a retelling of The Canterbury Tales, comparing it to efforts made by other cultures to reclaim their history or relearn their traditions. While there may not be the same urgency or need as with those other efforts, its value as a first hand account of life from our history can't be overstated. Chaucer's frankness when it comes to sexual matters, and his refusal to revere a person because of their office, whether secular or religious, shows that no matter what the age the role of the artist has always been to question and hold a mirror up for society to see itself warts and all. In this day and age when people look to the past to justify prudery in the name or religion, and far too many in power seem to expect shelter from prosecution based on the privileges granted them by their office, its nice to be able to point out precedent for the opposite.

Aside from any deep sociological and philosophical reasons for this work being re-written, there's also the fact that its a lot of fun to read. Where else will you find the answer to how to divide a fart into twelve equal parts? Part Monty-Python, part Carry On gang, and part biting satire, Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales is one of the funniest works of English literature. With his retelling Peter Ackroyd has given everybody a wonderful opportunity to enjoy it to its fullest, and as close to the spirit that Chaucer wrote it in as even the most devout literary purist could want. Sometimes a story is its own best reason for its revival, and that's definitely the case here.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 05:20 PM | Permalink

When the Iron Curtain came down at the end of WWII effectively splitting Europe into East and West, in some ways it only emphasized a division that had existed long before the rise of Communism. Ever since the Roman Empire split in two with the East being ruled by an emperor in what was then Constantinople (Istanbul in present day Turkey) and the power in the West remained seated in Rome, the two halves of the same continent have moved in different directions. When the Empire in the West collapsed it descended into what we now refer to as the Dark Ages, while the Eastern Empire flourished becoming a centre of trade and culture.

To the rest of Europe there has always been something mysterious and slightly dark about the eastern countries. They have deep and dangerous forests where unknown creatures lurk and high mysterious mountains that could be home to any sort of nameless dread. It's no real coincidence that the story of Dracula was set in Romania. These were places where witches lurked in glades waiting to lure small plump children to their death and spells could cast enchanted sleeps that lasted hundreds of years. Now it may seem odd to mention all of this in connection to a recording made up of lullabies, but the CD being released by the San Francisco based women's vocal group Kitka, Cradle Songs on their own Diaphonica label, isn't what most of us would expect from songs nominly used for putting children to sleep. In fact some of them sound like they would give most children nightmares rather than sweet dreams.

Of the eighteen tracks on this CD thirteen have Eastern European roots, two are Jewish - which amounts to being about the same thing when it comes to music - one Russian/Ukrainian, one American, and one, "Nani, Nani, Kitka Mou", is made up of fragments of songs from around the world. However, and given their predominance it's not much of a surprise, it's the Eastern European songs that leave the strongest impression on the listener. While translations of the lyrics are supplied in the booklet that accompany the CD, we can't help be effected by the sound of the music and, in some cases, their almost dissonant harmonies, which give the tunes an eerie almost scary sound.

True, the lyrics to the songs when translated into English belay some of the strangeness of the music. However, the contrast between the gentle nature of the words and the offsetting sound of the music end up making the pieces sound even more alien in some ways. How can we reconcile the one with the other? Part of the problem is what we have been conditioned to expect a lullaby to sound like through our exposure to Hallmark card like expressions of sentiment that are meant to pass for emotions. In much the way the fairy tales of the Brothers Grimm have been turned into the saccharine tales we see presented by the good folk at Walt Disney - try comparing the cartoon version of Cinderella with the original Brothers Grimm tale some day if you want to see what I'm talking about - lullabies and cradle songs have been diluted into sweet and airy tunes.

Here they are replete with references to Goddesses of fertility like in "Megruli Nana", the second song on the disc, where not only is Nana a Georgian word for lullaby and mother, but is also traceable to an ancient oriental Goddess of fertility and light. "Nana (sleep), my darling. The child resembles the sun and the moon". Throughout the disc variations on the word nana (nani, and nanourisma - Romanian and Albanian respectively) show up, and in each case the same multiplicity of meanings is implied. "Kakhuri Nana", the ninth song on the disc, starts off with "I'll sing nana to you. Go to sleep, little rose", where nana could mean lullaby. However it finishes with "In mother's bosom you have found your sweet home." Which could either imply being rocked to sleep in your mother's arms, or being buried in the ground in the earth Goddesses arms.

Not the most cheerful or delightful of sentiments is it? However it represents the reality of a people who would have lived with a high infant mortality rate. Lullaby's that offer comfort to both the child and the parent would have been common if they had to wish a child safe journey very often. Even today we talk about somebody being in the cradle of their saviour's arms when they die, especially in gospel songs. Therefore its not much of a leap for lullabies and cradle songs to do double duty for mourning and easing a child into sleep for the night.

The eight women of Kitka take it in turns to sing leads on the various songs while the others supply harmonies and background vocals. While some of the songs are quite straightforward in their arrangements, it's the more complex ones where they really shine. Here the distinct personalities of each voice comes clear, and instead of merely sounding like another choir singing a sweet song, they take on character that increases our interest. In some instances it appears they are each singing a different harmony, and it's those songs in which we can really feel the power of the music they are singing. These are also the songs which allow us to hear just how different the songs of Eastern Europe are from what we are used to, and the skill required to bring them to life.

Cradle Songs not only offers the listener an opportunity to experience the power and mystery of Eastern European choral music, but is a fine example of what the human voice is capable of creating. Kitka are by far one of the most exciting and challenging vocal ensembles you're going to hear in North America, and their music is always an enchanting delight to listen too. This disc is a perfect example of why they have gained a reputation for performing difficult music with grace and style. When the Iron Curtain came down at the end of WWII effectively splitting Europe into East and West, in some ways it only emphasized a division that had existed long before the rise of Communism. Ever since the Roman Empire split in two with the East being ruled by an emperor in what was then Constantinople (Istanbul in present day Turkey) and the power in the West remained seated in Rome, the two halves of the same continent have moved in different directions. When the Empire in the West collapsed it descended into what we now refer to as the Dark Ages, while the Eastern Empire flourished becoming a centre of trade and culture.

To the rest of Europe there has always been something mysterious and slightly dark about the eastern countries. They have deep and dangerous forests where unknown creatures lurk and high mysterious mountains that could be home to any sort of nameless dread. It's no real coincidence that the story of Dracula was set in Romania. These were places where witches lurked in glades waiting to lure small plump children to their death and spells could cast enchanted sleeps that lasted hundreds of years. Now it may seem odd to mention all of this in connection to a recording made up of lullabies, but the CD being released by the San Francisco based women's vocal group Kitka, Cradle Songs on their own Diaphonica label, isn't what most of us would expect from songs nominly used for putting children to sleep. In fact some of them sound like they would give most children nightmares rather than sweet dreams.

Of the eighteen tracks on this CD thirteen have Eastern European roots, two are Jewish - which amounts to being about the same thing when it comes to music - one Russian/Ukrainian, one American, and one, "Nani, Nani, Kitka Mou", is made up of fragments of songs from around the world. However, and given their predominance it's not much of a surprise, it's the Eastern European songs that leave the strongest impression on the listener. While translations of the lyrics are supplied in the booklet that accompany the CD, we can't help be effected by the sound of the music and, in some cases, their almost dissonant harmonies, which give the tunes an eerie almost scary sound.

True, the lyrics to the songs when translated into English belay some of the strangeness of the music. However, the contrast between the gentle nature of the words and the offsetting sound of the music end up making the pieces sound even more alien in some ways. How can we reconcile the one with the other? Part of the problem is what we have been conditioned to expect a lullaby to sound like through our exposure to Hallmark card like expressions of sentiment that are meant to pass for emotions. In much the way the fairy tales of the Brothers Grimm have been turned into the saccharine tales we see presented by the good folk at Walt Disney - try comparing the cartoon version of Cinderella with the original Brothers Grimm tale some day if you want to see what I'm talking about - lullabies and cradle songs have been diluted into sweet and airy tunes.

Here they are replete with references to Goddesses of fertility like in "Megruli Nana", the second song on the disc, where not only is Nana a Georgian word for lullaby and mother, but is also traceable to an ancient oriental Goddess of fertility and light. "Nana (sleep), my darling. The child resembles the sun and the moon". Throughout the disc variations on the word nana (nani, and nanourisma - Romanian and Albanian respectively) show up, and in each case the same multiplicity of meanings is implied. "Kakhuri Nana", the ninth song on the disc, starts off with "I'll sing nana to you. Go to sleep, little rose", where nana could mean lullaby. However it finishes with "In mother's bosom you have found your sweet home." Which could either imply being rocked to sleep in your mother's arms, or being buried in the ground in the earth Goddesses arms.

Not the most cheerful or delightful of sentiments is it? However it represents the reality of a people who would have lived with a high infant mortality rate. Lullaby's that offer comfort to both the child and the parent would have been common if they had to wish a child safe journey very often. Even today we talk about somebody being in the cradle of their saviour's arms when they die, especially in gospel songs. Therefore its not much of a leap for lullabies and cradle songs to do double duty for mourning and easing a child into sleep for the night.

The eight women of Kitka take it in turns to sing leads on the various songs while the others supply harmonies and background vocals. While some of the songs are quite straightforward in their arrangements, it's the more complex ones where they really shine. Here the distinct personalities of each voice comes clear, and instead of merely sounding like another choir singing a sweet song, they take on character that increases our interest. In some instances it appears they are each singing a different harmony, and it's those songs in which we can really feel the power of the music they are singing. These are also the songs which allow us to hear just how different the songs of Eastern Europe are from what we are used to, and the skill required to bring them to life.

Cradle Songs not only offers the listener an opportunity to experience the power and mystery of Eastern European choral music, but is a fine example of what the human voice is capable of creating. Kitka are by far one of the most exciting and challenging vocal ensembles you're going to hear in North America, and their music is always an enchanting delight to listen too. This disc is a perfect example of why they have gained a reputation for performing difficult music with grace and style.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 07:47 PM | Permalink

Once upon a time there was no such thing as cable, satellites, or the Internet - not even dial up let alone DSL. In those days televisions and radio stations relied on individuals owning antennas on their houses that would reach up into the sky and pick off signals as they'd pass by. Thirty years ago I still used to be able to lay in bed on cold clear night in Toronto Ontario and pick up radio stations in Chicago and Detroit that managed to punch through the crisp air with blues and R&B we never heard up north.

Now a days you can't turn a radio dial without hitting noise of some sort at every point on either the FM or the AM band. Yet at one time there used to be such a thing as dead air on the radio - when all there would be is silence. In rural communities in the States, especially in the South, a housewife's day would be well underway before the first programming of the day started up. At around 7:00 am every morning with the husband headed out the door to start work on the back forty, or tending the livestock in the barns, and the kids off to school, she'd be over the sink up to her elbows in soap suds when the voice of Cousin Louis Buck would come over the radio. That was the signal for the start of fifteen minutes of Hank Williams on Nashville's WSM radio station - home station of the Grand Ole Oprey - brought to her by Mother's Best flour and feed.

In 1951 when Hank Williams wasn't on the road, and had a spare moment or two, he'd be in a studio in Nashville pre-recording fifteen minute morning shows that would be broadcast Monday to Friday across the South. Seventy-two of these tapes have managed to survive over the years and Time Life is now ready to release its second set of recordings culled from these shows. Hank Williams Revealed: The Unreleased Recordings will go on sale as a three disc set on Tuesday November 3rd/09, while individual discs from the set are being released as independent recordings at selected retailers in the United States.

The three discs each represent a different facet of Hank's character and his music. Disc one are his hits; "Cold, Cold Heart", "Move It On Over", "Long Gone Lonesome Blues", and many more old favourites. Disc two is called "Southern Harmony", but it could just as easily been called Old Time Gospel, as its an entire side of old gospel tunes, with some having roots as old as 17th century England. The final disc is a collection of homilies and stories that Hank recorded under the name of Luke The Drifter. Either spoken word or recited verses, to our ears they might come across as being corny and hackneyed, but they were aimed at his unsophisticated and very religious audience of farmers and their wives who would have appreciated the story's simple axioms.

Each of the discs not only contains a collection of material taken from various broadcasts, but includes as an added bonus a complete Mother's Best broadcast built around the disc's theme. Regardless of whether or not he's doing a gospel show, telling tales, or singing some of his hits, each of Hank's shows start off with him and the boys doing the opening of "Lovesick Blues" from which he segues into introducing the show, its sponsor, and its host, Cousin Louis Buck. There's only enough time for a couple of tunes as well as fitting in the necessary mentions of Mother's Best Flour And Feed in the fifteen minutes allotted for each show, but Hank and the Drifting Cowboys deliver the goods each time. It might sound funny to us selling house wives flour for baking and feed for their livestock all at once, but the majority of the show's audiences are going to be a farmer's wife who not only has to feed her family, but think about the care of the livestock as well.

The real treat about these recordings, especially disc one, is that you get to here Hank completely relaxed. Some of the songs he's not performed outside of the recording studio before, and he and the guys are just winging it, with Hank calling out the solos for each member of the band as their turns come up. "Cold, Cold Heart" for instance was only released on record in February 1951, while the recording for the show it was featured in was probably made in January of that year. This means that Hank and the boys hadn't played it outside of the recording studio before this, and you can hear in his delivery just how fresh the tune still is for him.

The same relaxed atmosphere permeates all three discs, with the boys in The Drifting Cowboys, making interjections between the songs, and Hank and "Cousin" Louis trading banter and conversation throughout. Although I can't agree with their comments about the beauty of the gospel tunes, some of them with their talk of Christ's bleeding wounds while on the cross, "How Can You Refuse Him Now", made my blood run a bit cold. However it gives you a look into some of the darker recesses of William's brain where guilt and fear sit holding hands. "At The Cross", the ninth song on the disc, shows how deep the roots of Southern Christianity go, as its a reworking of a 17th century Passion hymn, "Alas! And Did My Saviour Bleed" by English churchman Isaac Watts. The Puritan themes of blood and suffering run throughout most of these songs, and in Hank's performances we can see the roots of today's Christian conservative movement.

The final disc contains the work of Luke The Drifter, the pseudonym that Hank's record label, MGM, forced him to use to record collections of his spoken word pieces. While they're not quite as bad as the gospel tunes when it comes to their subject matter, to our ears they're not exactly heartening or inspiring. Ironically most of the advice Luke The Drifter dispensed Hank himself ignored. Like his gospel music, I think these pieces represented his yearning to be something other than who he was, and signified some of the guilt he felt about his lifestyle. Remember by this time he was living on pain medication and booze because of deterioration to his spinal column. At one point on the second disc you can hear him mention about having to sit down in order to sing, and there are times throughout all three discs when the pain you hear in his voice has nothing to do with the song he's singing.

The series of radio shows Hank Williams Revealed: The Unreleased Recordings was drawn from recordings made in the last year of Williams' life. They were a friendly voice to lonely housewives across the South on many a morning. When your closest neighbour is miles away, and your life doesn't extend much beyond the confines of your house and church, hearing Hank Williams' voice weekday mornings was one of the only things you had to remind you that a bigger world existed beyond your yard and kitchen.

Listening to Williams on these discs you get the feeling that he understands exactly what and who he represents to his listeners as he tries to entertain and inspire where he can. We may not be able to relate to some of the material he sings, but that in no way stops us from appreciating what he's doing. These recordings are close to the last stuff that Hank ever put down on tape, and they're a fitting testimony to what makes him such a beloved figure in the annals of music.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 12:34 PM | Permalink

From the back seat of Jed Clampett's jalopy carrying the clan into Beverly Hills to the backwoods predators of Deliverance, to most of today's world the banjo has its roots in the same back hills that gave us moonshine and country music. The fact that today's so called country music has about as much in common with the traditional Irish, Scottish, and British folk songs that were being sung in the hills of Tennessee as The Beverly Hillbillies did with reality, might suggest that some things aren't quite what they appear to be when you're talking about the roots of country music. However it is a little odd that nobody ever thought to wonder where it was that the banjo came from and who introduced it to the hill country.

It's unfortunate, but with country music being whiter than white in its early days, and segregation being what it was in the south, there probably weren't that many people playing the banjo who were going to be quick about admitting its origins were with the slaves who had brought it over with them from Africa. Forbidden to use their drums by the masters, they utilized the string instruments of home instead and incorporated them into their new life over here. Music had always accompanied work in Africa, so here it was no different. As slavery spread, and some were freed, the music and the instruments spread and were picked up by white people who started to use them in their music as well, and early forms of the banjo would have been part of the deal

Now Bela Fleck is not your typcial banjo player, you only need to take a quick glance at his career to see that. How many banjo pluckers list any of the Marsalis family as regular collaborators, or have played with everyone from tabla players from India to symphony orchestras? Like most banjoists Fleck started with the basics of country and bluegrass, but he hasn't limited himself to just those genres. Somewhere along the line he began to wonder about the roots of his instrument, and that led him Africa. Some people make pilgrimages to various religious shrines, but Bela Fleck decided to make a pilgrimage to visit the birthplaces of the banjo. The result was the hour and half long documentary film Throw Down Your Heart directed by Sascha Paladino, now being made available on DVD for the first time November 3rd/09 through Docurama Films.

Starting in Uganda in East Africa we follow Fleck as he travels along the coast to Tanzania on the Indian Ocean, and then north and west up to Mali and The Gambia. Along the way we are introduced to the music and musicians of each area; some of whom are international stars in the burgeoning world music scene, while others are local villagers for whom music is an integral part of their lives. An extraordinary man in all senses of the word, Fleck's reverence for his subject and his delight in the people he meets is obvious and heart warming. Completely unaffected he's the same person whether he's recording with Mali's diva Oumou Sangare in a modern studio or with a group of Ugandan woman in a dirt floored hut with chickens at his feet.

For those of you who had any doubts about the banjo's African roots, they should be dispelled the first time you hear him accompany what we call a thumb piano - properly known as a kalimba - in one of the first Ugandan villages he visits as you can hear the similarities in tone between the two instruments; they sound like they were meant to be played together. It's not just instruments that sound alike which interest Fleck, he wants to learn about the music which the banjo sprang from, and then record with the people who continue to make it today. There's this wonderful scene in one village where the people are shown assembling a huge glockenspiel type instrument which involves laying keys the length of a forearm made out of wood over a pit or hollow log. Then a group of men assemble and begin playing it together; some of them slapping keys with the palms of their hands, others using mallets, and the result is as glorious display of percussion as I've ever seen. Fleck quickly finds how the banjo fits into the patterns they've developed and plays along as if its the most natural thing in the world for him to be doing.

In Tanzania we meet Anania Ngoliga, an amazing kalimba player, singer, and lover of music. It's the city he lives in, on the shores of the Indian Ocean, which gave the move its title. For when the slaves were brought out from the interior of the continent prior to being shipped east - the slave trade went into the Arab world as much as it did ours - and they saw the ocean for the first time they knew they would never see their homes again. Roughly translated into English they named the place "throw down your heart" to represent their sorrow at being taken from their homes. There's a beautiful scene of Fleck standing in the Indian Ocean up to his knees playing his banjo as the sun slowly sets behind him. The juxtaposition of his song, which captures the sorrow of the place, and the beauty of the scene, sum up so much of the history of Africa and its people.

When we jump across the continent to Mali and the Gambia, Fleck meets up with people who are playing some of the instruments from which the banjo obviously descended. Bassekou Kouyate plays the ngoni, a two stringed instrument with a body made from either wood or a hollowed out gourd covered in raw-hide. When he and Fleck sit down to jam in Kouyate's living room their instruments bridged whatever communication gap existed between them (Kouyate didn't speak English and Fleck didn't speak French). While there were obvious differences between the two instruments in construction, the similarities were equally obvious and the men were able to play together without any rehearsal. On the special features section of the disc that includes extra scenes that were cut from the theatrical version of the film, there's an extended version of the two them doing a brilliant blues jam.

Everywhere Fleck went he seemed to find people of like mind. Neither he nor anyone he met had too far to travel before they were on the same page musically. There was an obvious connection between what type of music the banjo was comfortable playing and what was being played by the musicians he was meeting no matter what instruments they were utilizing. Its an amazing site to see people from such different cultural backgrounds finding common ground with their instruments with such ease. As the film progresses you are left with no doubt that the banjo has come home.

Considering how much of the film was recorded under less than ideal conditions, the sound and picture quality are amazing - it even comes with a choice of either Dolby stereo or 5.1 surround sound. The only disappointing thing that I found with the package was the lack of liner notes. It would have been helpful - and useful - to have included a breakdown of the various locations and who was appearing in each scene, as well as background information on each of the musicians who appeared in the film. After all they are an integral part of Fleck's pilgrimage.

However, that quibble aside, this is a wonderful movie, and you couldn't ask for a more passionate or interested pair of eyes to see this world through then Bela Fleck. While he might be learning about the banjo and the music that is responsible for its development, we're learning about him. His genuine delight in everything and everyone he encounters, combined with his willingness to accept that anybody could have something to teach him, makes him the ideal conduit for us to learn through. Even if you already are familiar with the music from parts of Africa, Throw Down Your Heart will take you further and deeper into the music then you'll have experienced before while introducing you to some of the amazing musicians who create it. All in all a pilgrimage well worth taking.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 01:35 AM | Permalink