The Black Earth Boys are Justin Adams, Juldeh Camara and Ben Mandelson. The band is an aggregate of two others- with Adams as the link between. Justin and Juldeh -- now touring internationally under the name "JuJu" have recorded two CDs, "Soul Science" and "Tell No Lies."  Camara, who is from the Gambia, is a singer, instrument maker, and master of the ritti, a single stringed, violin-like instrument. Adams is well known for his long association with singer Robert Plant. His great strength is groove; no flashy mile-a-minute riffs, simply a guitar style that FEELS just right, and is an excellent partnering with Camara's flights of improvisation.

Ben Mandelson is not just a fine musician, he is a real life hero of world music. Back when I was first listening to recordings of what would eventually be called "world music" it was Ben's productions I often found myself checking out. Here we see him comfortably supplying tasty fills, textural motifs and rhythmic drive on mandolin. Adams, Mandelson and Lu Edmonds (unavailable for this performance) have their own ensemble "Les Triaboliques," a project that has them gleefully galloping through all the musical influences they have gathered in their past and present lives.

This performance, from Lincoln Center's Out of Doors series took place in Damrosch Park. The repertoire was primarily a melding of American folk and blues with Camara bringing the West African flavor. His ritti at times sounded like a fiddle, and eerily, at times like a harmonica. It was a surprisingly cohesive sound, reminding us once again of the debt that our music owes to African culture. While Adams' gritty voice sang a simpler, countrified interpretation of this Carter Family standby "Sow 'Em on the Mountain," Camara's vocal takes a soaring, melismatic approach. Great stuff.

For more of Michal's original music videos click here.

The Summer Solstice brought a plethora of free performances in and around NYC, and the one I opted for was the Griot Summit at the Wave Hill Gardens overlooking the Hudson, in the Bronx. Who could resist getting away from the burning pavements of the city to saunter through bucolic splendor while listening to masters of the Griot tradition?

For those of you who are not familiar with the term "griot" (or jali, or jeli, depending on where the griot is from) a quick explanation: the griot is the repository of the history of his or her people, knowing geneologies and major epic songs by heart. Descended through the family line, the griot is not just a musician, but a living library, an advisor, and on occasion, a gadfly.  Understanding the function of the griot is a great way to gain insight into the culture of West Africa. But I have started my video with a good description, straight from the horse's mouth, so I'm sure you'll figure it out.  

The day started out with the various musicians scattered around the grounds, so that you could catch solos and larger groups as they performed in lushly green walkways, formal gardens and woodland areas. Then they all gathered for a massive display on the main stage, to get everyone riveted, then up and moving.  Personally, I was entranced and dazzled by the regal appearance of the griots. I guess I'm just a sucker for African Formal Wear; all those robes, headdresses and intense colors and bright white against dark skin knock me out.  I was also struck by the obvious musical links between what these musicians were conveying in its purest form, and the roots of our own American music: the glissandos, time signatures, the improvisations; it was all there to hear and mark as building blocks of the blues.

All in all it was an amazing gathering, and it was a tribute to Sylvain Leroux the curator, Isabel Soffer of Live Sounds, and the musicians, that it all came together so wonderfully well. After all, you can't just assume that Jalis from Guinea are going to play well with Jalis from Burkina Fasso or Mali.  But they certainly did here!

The day was hot, and this was shooting on the fly-- no way to deal with the light, the sound, the terrain, so I will beg your pardon for the occasional visual burn, bumpy camera work, and some audio distortion.

The participating musicians were:

Abdoulaye Diabate (Mali), Toumany Diabate (USA), Tapani Sissoko and her mother (Mali), Yacouba Sissoko (Mali), Mamady Kouyate (Guinea), Makane Kouyate (Mali), Ismael Diarra (Burkina Faso), Abdourahmane Mangara (Gambia), Aissatou Kouyate (Mali), Famoro Dioubate (Guinea), Andy Algire (USA), Sam Dickey (USA), Bailo Bah (Guinea), Ibrahima Soumano (Guinea), Mmah Doumbouya (Guinea), Ayiba Doumbouya (Guinea), Bebe Camara (Guinea), Nagna Diabate (Guinea), Hasan Bakr (USA), Zoumana Diabate (Mali), Moussa Diabate (Mali), Anette Lipson (USA), Kewulay Kamara (Sierra Leone), Lankandia Cissoko (Senegal), Yacouba Diabate (Burkina Faso), Sylvain Leroux (Canada).

For more music from this gathering, click here.

It did not occur to me when I referenced the "venerable Kronos Quartet" in an earlier blog here, that I would run into David Harrington, the founder and musical director of the Quartet, a few weeks later. When I mentioned the article he sighed whimsically. "Has it finally gotten to that? Have we actually become venerable?" "I'm afraid so," I joked back.

Harrington was in town for a series of concerts at Zankel Hall, playing with a host of world music artists, and I snagged him for an interview. In the process he gave insight into his early years as a musician, and the early days of the Quartet. They have become such an institution that we tend to forget just how groundbreaking they are, how difficult it was to gain recognition and acceptance at first, and just how BADLY NEEDED an ensemble like this was and still is. Harrington's fascination with music from other cultures has contributed to a heightened awareness of world music in classical circles as well as an appreciation of classical music in the broader listening public. I wanted to draw him out about the world music aspects of the Quartet's work, but found that it is all inextricably part of Harrington's fascination with SOUND.

Harrington may play the violin, but to me, he actually "plays the quartet." He's in love with the way that specific combination of instruments and teamwork creates the timbres he so enjoys experimenting with. This is apparent in his musings on those pieces of music in his life that had a profound effect upon him, from the acoustic sonorities of Beethoven's late quartet in E-flat major to the electrified keening in Crumb's "Black Angels."

He's musical in his speech too. In particular, check out the subtle tonal spin he gives the word "k" in the last part of the interview.