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 of Michal's world music videos visit inter-muse.com

About four years ago, when I was rooting around for Chinese music videos, I was sent a charming animation from a band called Shanren. The song "30 Years" was about the trials and tribulations of moving from the country to the big city to look for work. This is a motif that resonates with all working folks, and I won't even go into the hundreds of great songs dealing with this from the West's Industrial Revolution right through to today. "30 Years" describes what is going on in China currently, as its rapid industrialization is causing a vast shift in population from rural to urban centers. I was therefor already interested when I was contacted by the band's publicist, informing me that they would be playing on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, at Pianos.

The band comes from Yunnan and Guizhou provinces, with members from the Wa and Buyi minorities. The name Shanren means "mountain men." During a chat with James Pang, the band's Chinese manager, he mentioned that the people of these minorities live up in the mountains, are kind of wild living, like to brew their own liquor, and dance.

Being a lover of country music and bluegrass, I could not help but start drawing parallels between some of the characteristics of our own folk heritage and what I was about to see and hear. I was not let down. Listen to this music and tell me that you don't hear something that sounds remarkably like our own "Old Timey" music, with its trance-like repetitions. People like banjoist Abigail Washburn have been mining these parallels for years, and you can hear why. (The band even uses something that looks mighty like a banjo!)

The song is called "Left Foot Dance of the Yi".

The Yi people, as I mentioned before, are one of the ethnic minorities of southwestern China. There's a family of songs called left foot dance songs ("kind of Yi party music" their manager Sam Debell writes). This is the band's own arrangement of a very well known left foot dance song. It’s usually a circle dance, but the band adapted it, so they do it in a line (in a circle it must look positively Balkan... but I’m not going to get into that, at least not here).

A sample of the lyrics (xianzi is a stringed instrument):

- Brother play the xianzi.
- Sister sing the song.
- The moon is already risen.
- And we're waiting to dance.

And something from our own repertoire:

"Late in the evening about sundown
High on a hill and above the town
Uncle Pen played the fiddle, lordy how it would ring,
You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing."

To contact the band:
Sam Debell (Asia) at unitysam@gmail.com and +86 152-1027-0868.

For more of Michal's original music videos, visit inter-muse.com

Malika Zarra has had to negotiate the world of her heritage (Morocco) and the world she has found herself in (Europe, the USA) and has emerged with a strong musical identity that combines the structures of jazz with songs that come from her North African heart. She brought the music of her latest release "Berber Taxi" on Motema Records to the intimate NY club, the Jazz Standard, and from my perch on a bar stool, above the audience -- and the waiters delivering slabs of barbecue -- I caught the title track on video.

Zarra has a warm and caressing presence, and she introduced this traditional song that she learned from her mother by telling of how in remote villages, sometimes one hopes that a taxi will come from far away, bringing love. But the song also operates as a metaphor for Zarra's own inner journey through Morocco, France and New York City. She grew up listening to traditional music in her home, but was introduced to jazz after the family moved to France, where her formal musical studies began. Throughout the evening, the cadences of Arabic and Berber dialects sat easily within the sophisticated arrangements, as did the modalities of the melodies. By the end of her set, the audience was thoroughly entranced.

Musicians in the top-notch band that night, were Jean-Christophe Maillard on guitar, Etienne Stadwijk on piano, Mamadou Ba on bass, Harvey Wirht on drums, and Brahim Fribgane on oud and percussion.

I also liked the room. The Jazz Standard has a welcoming feel, and I found myself chatting with a very interesting couple who live on a boat, and make it a point to come to the club whenever they are in town. But when the music began, cell phones were off, and ears were turned on, giving complete attention to the music.

For more information about Ms. Zarra's upcoming performances, visit www.malikazarra.com

On Earth Day the Atrium at Lincoln Center presented Susie Ibarra and Roberto Rodriguez's Electric Kulintang. Both of these well-known Downtown musicians have been involved in researching the indigenous culture of the Philippines, and have been working on a film about their efforts called "Song of the Bird King." I had tried to find examples of Filipino "roots music" a number of years ago with very little success, and in this film (a fragment of which was presented that night) I heard some spine-tingling stuff, so I am really looking forward to the film's completion and getting the full immersion! The film focuses not only on the challenges of keeping a culture alive in the face of globalization, but on the physical degradation of the ecosystem that has supported life on the island, affecting man, fauna and flora.

Electric Kulintang call their music "Eco-Electronica." Rodriguez is the partner percussionist, programmer and beatmeister, while Ibarra plays drums and various xylophones as well as the Kulintang, a traditional Philippine instrument comprised of a series of gongs, and reminiscent of those found in an Indonesian gamelan. The concert debuted material from their forthcoming CD "Drum Codes" which Ibarra describes as "musical stories and dedications to ancestors and the environment." This video is of "Drum Code #3," which they presented toward the end of their set. Ibarra says "I play on the Philippine Kulintang gongs, Taggungo style. This traditional Southern Filipino Maguindanaon style is performed in respect to spirits and used in healing."

Electronica, as Rodriguez composes it, contains an invitation to trance that is an appropriate matrix for the shamanistic meditations inspired by the Kulintang. One could focus on the musician's performance, but the experience was also interactive with the Atrium itself. Rodriguez' digitally generated sounds resonated into and off the various surfaces of the hall, creating a cocoon for Ibarra's percussive, minimalist motifs, and I could easily imagine the music as an installation piece. I have brought many architectural images from the Atrium itself into the video, as this seemed the best way to convey the experience as a whole , including one of the Green Walls (living tapestries of plants) that adorn the Atrium. I recommend listening to this video with headphones, to get the full effect, as there are some subtle electronic sounds that are fairly low in the mix.

Rodriguez and Ibarra are engaged citizens of our planet whose music attempts to express how our inner and outer worlds relate. Electric Kulintang's merging of ambient/shamanistic/experimental music was a singularly appropriate programming choice for Earth Day.