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.

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.

In my last post about the Fes Festival of World Sacred Music, I didn't dwell very much on individual performances, since I was more concerned with conveying the feeling of being at the festival. So this time out, I'm taking the other route and just giving you a performance, sans any commentary from me. If you have never heard the Taarab music of Tanzania and Zanzibar, you may be surprised at how sweet it is. This is in large part due to the use of the Qanun, a most celestial sounding instrument. Taarab is a fairly recent genre, having been a court music created specifically for pleasure. There are even times when it sounds so pretty I find it ambient, and what with the beautiful sail-like shades shielding us from the sun in the courtyard floating serenely on the wind above us, the purely instrumental melodies sent more than one member of the audience into a trance. (As you will see, it even put a baby to sleep!)  But when Shakila Saidi started to sing, she changed that dreamy vibe, and supplied just the right amount of edge to keep me alert and appreciative.

If you would like to know more about the Qanun and to see a demonstration of this fascinating instrument, I recommend checking out the Turkish virtuoso Tamer Pinarbasi, whom I covered in a former posting.

This post will be a little bit different from my others. Rather than simply reporting on the music from the Fes Festival (which I will do in other postings) I'm going to try to convey the experience of being there. I've taken everything I shot from my first full day and laid the most vivid parts out, travelogue-style. So you're getting a full day in under 9 minutes.

A word on the video quality: I went with my Flip camera which was fine for some things, and truly inadequate for others. So you are going to see some pretty grainy stuff every now and then (low light, fuzzy zoom, or both).  You are also going to see some very high quality video that was kindly supplied to me by a REAL filmmaker with a REAL camera. So all in all it will be a bumpy ride. But frankly, Fes is a bumpy ride. That's why I start out with a statement from my colleague Cindy Byram, who has attended the festival for 6 years in a row, and who speaks from experience. In the end I agree with her 100%.

There are four main venues for the festival: three paying, one public. One generally starts the day at the Batha Museum courtyard, an intimate setting with a magnificent Barberry tree that spreads its shade over 65% of the area. After a dinner break, you head on out to catch the "Big Act" at the impressive walled Bab al Makina (another paying venue) and then pass through the Bab Boujloud public performance area on your way to the last musical event, at the lovely Dar Tazi, where you can sit at a table under the trees, sip mint tea, and listen to Sufi chants. The public performances have been added in the last few years, and this is where you will find your everyday Moroccan, since the paying venues are too expensive for most. The music there is more local, and I was particularly taken with this venue, as you will see.

As to the music?  Everything I saw had merit on some level, and some even made my heart sing. But to put in my two cents, I believe that for the  most part making music and listening to music is a transcendent act, so what is NOT sacred music?  Still, I guess calling it "sacred music" makes it easier to give the Festival a theme, and since the event and the vibe are so dogma-free and tolerant, how can I complain?

I have nothing against the idea of the latest fundraising video for Haiti because the cause is certainly a great one; it's just that I tire of the usual bevy of First World entertainers belting it out. That's why it's refreshing to meet someone like Mark Johnson, one of the founders of Playing for Change.  By now you've all probably heard about this organization through the widely seen globetrotting video of "Stand By Me." The first time I saw it, I thought it was pleasant enough, but what was it for, what was the next step -- what was the substance? Mark clarified it all for me in an eloquent interview, in which he laid out a vision for using music as a catalyst for social change. I've heard my share of pie-in-the-sky blah blah about using music for this or that, but Mark's ideas are not dreams -- they are based on solid reality and hard work.

Can any of us deny that one of our greatest achievements to date is our unprecedented technological connectivity? Playing for Change is not just about making pretty videos. It's about connecting a global community where access to medicine, education, and mutual respect are a given.

I had a conversation many years ago with Christoph Borkowsky, one of the founders of the World Music Expo, WOMEX. At the time he said to me that the music of every nation should be treated as a natural resource. He chafed at the lack of market exposure great world artists got, and was certain that significant revenue streams could result from a level, truly international marketplace. Now that a new generation can access global content with ease, perhaps the idea finally has the proper soil in which to grow. And perhaps the next great musical outpouring of support for a cause will well up spontaneously, from another part of the world, and have a truly international face and sound.