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.

It's been a tough year. And frankly, the holiday season can be stressful even in the best of times. So here's a light-hearted, whimsical, stop-motion Christmas Carol video from Czech Republic, and Tomáš Kočko & Orchestra.  Enjoy.

Christmas Carol Stop Motion from SEEACH on Vimeo.

There now. Feeling better?

With six other albums to his credit, Tomáš Kočko (pronounced Kotch-ko) has been fusing Czech and Slovak music with many other elements for years, while remaining true to its core spirit. On the website of his label, Indies, we find this intriguing statement: "The carol is a very old tradition. Its history goes back to the pre-Christian era of ancient Rome where they celebrated the holiday of winter solstice called Calendae [kalende]…. It’s not a coincidence that the Catholic Christmas is very close to the winter solstice holiday. Both traditions celebrate the birth of a little baby God who puts an end to the reign of evil on Earth and new solar year begins, which is a cause for happiness and joy! Both traditions are merging and both are, in their original form and in their pagan-Christian merging as well, part
of our history."

Wishing you a Merry Christmas, a Happy Kwanzaa, and a Spectacular Solstice.

This year the Fes Festival presented two excellent drumming ensembles, The Master Drummers of Burundi, and the Korean Samulnori Hanullim Ensemble. Experiencing these two groups got me thinking about how much we rely on our own cultures to interpret sound.

It's not that I don’t believe music can cross boundaries, but I also believe that as we grow up our own culture informs us of how to hear things, and even how to evaluate the quality of the music we are listening to. The drummers from Burundi were excitement personified, and they were rightly presented on the big stage at the Bab Makina, where their athletic gestures and mighty, deep-voiced drums matched the grandeur of the setting. The Korean drums were presented in the more intimate Batha Museum, and although they were no less athletic, the statement was nuanced.

Again it had me thinking about what we are and are not comfortable listening to. Two hundred years ago, most occidental opinions of music were filtered through European classical standards. African music was considered barbaric. In the USA things changed about 90 years ago with the introduction of "Race Records" that brought the music of the African American population into broader distribution and the public consciousness.  It's been a love story ever since, and these days most American pop music continues to be a blend of Western harmonic concepts with African American grooves and gospel-influenced vocals. So the drums of Burundi already felt familiar as the progenitors of music I grew up with.

But what of the drummers from Korea?  The higher pitched timbres and shifting rhythmic deconstructions that transitioned into ferocious grooves reminded me that sometimes we have to push hard with our own listening to "get" something that has been around for thousands of years. That’s why I thought to insert part of an interview I recorded about a year ago, and to focus on this ensemble in my post.

I had seen Kim Dong-Won in the wonderful documentary "Intangible Asset Number 82," about the journey of Australian jazz drummer Simon Barker to find the Korean shaman whose music inspired him. Dong-Won had been Barker's guide, and he was in town, playing with Yo-Yo Ma's Silk Road Ensemble, so I set up an appointment. I was anxious to get his insights into the film, and I also asked him to talk about Korean folk music: the way the vocals functioned, and about the philosophy behind the drumming technique. I have edited a small part of that interview into my video here.

Joseph Campbell's interpretations of humanity's various myths are popular because they ring true; he was remarkably effective in revealing their wisdom about life and even death. Coming from a very similar place (though perhaps somewhat more curatorial in her process) is Virlana Tkacz, the director of the Yara Arts Group. She has been researching ancient songs and poems from Ukraine, Mongolia, Central Asia and points further east for years, and her work with the troupe reflects her desire to re-integrate the ancient "ways of knowing," as she puts it, into modern life. 

I first caught Yara's work in 1999 when I was assigned to review their musical play "Circle." It blew me away with its combination of great singing, songs, inventive staging, and earthy humor. (It was also where I first met Eugene Hutz of Gogol Bordello, who had a role in the play.) Ever since then I've thought more people should know about Yara, and now that I am "vlog enabled" (!) I finally can not only write about it, but bring you an interview with Virlana, and present some excerpts from Yara's most recent production, "Scythian Stones."



Even if you missed this last production, the good news is that Yara continues to create these intimate theatrical pieces here in NYC (and abroad, in the countries from which much of the the music and myth come) and you can catch more of them in the future. And there is more to Yara than just theater, as a visit to the Yara Arts Group website will reveal.

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.