I just got back from covering the Sharq Taronalari festival in Samarkand, Uzbekistan.  That's where I met the Welsh group "Jadu" who were performing there. I had no idea what to expect when the group's music was first described to me, and admittedly I do have an initially suspicious response to musical hybrids. There are too many self-conscious ensembles cobbled together from different musical influences pushing themselves as credible fusions, (don't get me talking about the misappropriation of the term "gypsy" music!). At this point they must all prove themselves to me.

As it turns out, Jadu ("magic" in Hindi) is a band that has come together naturally and as a result the sound is completely cohesive. Pete Stacey on soprano sax and flute is a solid jazz musician who has studied the tonalities and rhythms of Indian music with the masters. Mumbai born Rajesh David  is a velvet voiced crooner whose renditions of the material give it much of its gravitas. Kelly Smith on tabla  Bryan Smith on tamboura are a son and father who have been playing -- and meditating -- together since 'way back.

Paul Uden on guitar rounds out the ensemble with sensitive rhythm and chords. His guitar work within this setting is completely about the instrument as a vehicle for the music, and it is a shame that the microphone on my camera did not pick up more of his sound... but that's as good a reason as any to check out the band’s latest LP "Aberaeron Sunset," where you can really hear his contribution.

There was no way I was going to pass up videotaping them in a perfect place like Samarkand; as a crossroads of religions and cultures it is an uncanny match for the music. When the opportunity presented itself to do a shoot in the gorgeous setting of the courtyard of Tamerlane’s Mausoleum, we jumped. It was a sunny, hot day and as we taped the band, a small group of folks gathered around and listened attentively. It was a magical session. But then again, "Jadu" means magic.

About the music: Kabir was a great mystic poet saint in India in the 15th century. Rajesh sings Kabir's words:
 'When the mind is immersed in the Divine, there are no words, only Silence. All saints and wise men say your God is within you, then why are you looking outwards?'

For more about JADU go to jadumusic.co.uk

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

Two years ago I was fortunate enough to attend the Sharq Taronalari festival that is held every two years in Samarkand, as a guest. It has given me a bug for the place, and I recommend Uzbekistan as a travel destination, as not enough people really know or understand this part of the world. The country is rich with historical monuments, extraordinary textiles, warm and hospitable people and of course, music.  Not that the music is immediately accessible to the Western ear, and I was finding it quite demanding. One day I sat my assigned interpreter, Dilnoza Mamadaliyeva, down and said "Tell me about Muggam. Maybe you can help me to appreciate it better." So here is Dilnoza doing just that.

Much later on, we were able to acquire the fine Smithsonian series you have been watching on Link, but the other day, I discovered this tape from years ago.  Hey Dilnoza! I hope you're still singing.

A word about the technical problems...I should have known better than to place Dilnoza in front of a bright window. Every time she waved her hands, my camera tried to compensate, resulting in a flicker. Apologies.  And if anyone wants to know more about my travels in Uzbekistan, a memoir is available on request ;-) 

This week we are showing the fine Chinese film "Dam Street." It runs a little bit short of our usual Music and Culture slot, so I was asked to put together a special music block geared specifically to follow the film. At first glance, the list of videos might seem to be a mixed bag.  But actually, I decided to pick videos that enhanced the ambience of the film.  I decided that "Longing" fit the mood, and so I chose "Nuahulwana", one of the most beautiful and haunting of songs, in which a lover is admonished not to go out to find love at the local bars, like a "night bird." I followed that with the brooding and surreal "O Labarinto Parado" by the Portuguese group Madredeus. China's Sa DingDing gives us a fantasy of a former life, one at the pinnacle of an ancient civilization now long dead, and in a field of ice, Uzbekistan's Sevara Nazarkhan sings a poem written about the lights of a beautiful, distant city.  We end with Patrick Bruell's rueful reminiscence of puppy love in Tunisia, at "Café de Delices."