Winter has not yet descended upon Northern California, but the wind bit at my cheeks as I walked along the ocean yesterday. I’m starting to dress in double layers and crave comfort foods like vegetable stew and fruit sauces flavored with allspice.
Acoustic string music kindles my late fall and wintertime memories of listening to folk music records, and watching the sun set through the bare branches of trees in the backyard.
“Up High in the Clouds,” a song from harpist Diana Rowan’s album the Bright Knowledge has always sounded both watery and wintery to me. On her website, Diana explains that this Romanian tune does have winter roots:
“[The song contains] variations on a holiday folk melody I found in the UC Berkeley music library, hidden away in a dusty book that hadn’t been opened in years. I was drawn to the melody’s combination of sweetness, strength and offbeat phrase lengths, much as I’m drawn to people.”
To anyone living on the West Coast, taiko is a familiar fixture at folk festivals and at college events. But what about its history, especially in North America? In this Apsara guest post, Seattle composer and musician Byron Au Yong introduces the history of North American taiko and uses it as a lens for exploring the question: How can music be brought into a larger social, political, and spiritual sphere?
PJ Hirabayashi, Co-founder of San Jose Taiko (Mel Higashi Design)
How can music be brought into a larger social, political, and spiritual sphere? By coining the word “TaikoPeace,” PJ Hirabayashi (artistic director emeritus of San Jose Taiko) attempts to reconnect with the core of playing music. Along with her husband Roy, Hirabayashi received the 2011 NEA National Heritage Fellowship. As co-founders of San Jose Taiko, they have contributed to the development of taiko music in the Bay Area and beyond.
For new audiences, a group taiko (or kumi-daiko) show may seem to be music passed down through many generations. In actuality, modern ensemble taiko performances started in the late 20th century. Tokyo-based jazz drummer Daihachi Oguchi founded Osuwa Daiko in 1951. While Japanese religious, theatrical, or village taiko may influence kumi-daiko performances, most taiko in North America is a form of new music or neo-folk performance generated by a vibrant, soul-searching community of amateur and professional musicians.
San Jose Taiko formed as part of the Asian American identity movement in 1973. As the third kumi-daiko group created outside of Japan, San Jose Taiko currently performs for over 100,000 people a year. In 1968, Seiichi Tanaka started San Francisco Taiko Dojo, which was the first kumi-daiko group in North America. The second group, Kinnara Taiko, started at  Senshin Buddhist Temple in South Central Los Angeles as a musical club that transitioned from a chant and gagaku (court music) group to a taiko group in 1969.
In less than 50 years, over 150 taiko groups outside of Japan have formed. Many follow the model of a community music-making group such as San Jose Taiko, a school such as Taiko Dojo, or a Buddhist temple activity such as Kinnara. Additionally, there are taiko professionals influenced by jazz pickup groups such as Russell Baba and Jeanne Mercer of Shasta Taiko, Kenny Endo Contemporary Ensemble in Hawai’i, and rock bands such as LOUD from Vancouver and On Ensemble from Los Angeles.
On Ensemble: Taiko & Turntable
Kumi-daiko groups have varying aesthetics, philosophies, and skill levels. Most taiko players are hobbyists. “TaikoPeace” provides a framework for personally engaging with music.
At the closing session of the 2011 North American Taiko Conference in August, Stephen Sano, professor and chair of the Department of Music at Stanford University, admonished the audience of nearly 800 taiko players and enthusiasts to consider “work” as a verb as well as a noun. Thinking only about the performance or the recording can dampen the spirit of working. His reminder to treat “work” as a verb allows taiko players to be process rather than goal oriented by focusing on the resonances and repercussions of making music.
During the discussion session “Taiko and Social Change,” curated by Alan Okada of New York City-based Soh Daiko, Hirabayashi referenced Karen Armstrong’s “Charter for Compassion.” Kenny Endo commented afterwards that taiko was an instrument historically used for war and that he supported Hirabayashi’s idea to use taiko for peace. With TaikoPeace, Hirabayashi continues her work delving into what it means to play taiko.
Taiko, the drum, has no inherent power. Rather, taiko musicians create meaning through their actions—whether it is rehearsing and performing within community groups or competing in Australia’s Got Talent 2011. Endo cautions that any taiko performance may be the first and last time to make an impression on an audience. Taiko can continue to be thought of as an instrument of war, rather than peace.
Australia’s Got Talent 2011
Misrepresentations of taiko continue to exist. Often presenters and even taiko players remark that this 50-year-old art form is thousands of years old. Perhaps a way to interpret TaikoPeace is as a continual reinvestigation of motives. TaikoPeace has the potential to become a space of compassion that supports multiple individual stories informed by a search for integrity within this art form.
Considering TaikoPeace, Hirabayashi wrote to me in a recent email: “TaikoPeace invites one to reflect on our own taiko journeys where we can see the impact of our thoughts, words, and actions. TaikoPeace is an initiative to become heart-centered. TaikoPeace is not playing to impress. TaikoPeace is playing to inspire.”
Hirabayashi continues to inspire with her recent transition from artistic director of San Jose Taiko to independent taiko artist. TaikoPeace strengthens the core of playing music to balance oneself as well as connect with the social, political and spiritual reasons that make taiko potent.
In a world wide web full of streaming music services, exists Bandcamp—a site that I discovered earlier this year and that has quickly turned into one of my favorite go-to sources for new music.
A 78 RPM Decca vinyl recording (Flickr/Mike Bitzenhofer)
Apsara features tons of artists from this music distribution site, especially in our daily Twitter and Facebook recommendations .
So what’s so great about it?
From a basic listener’s perspective:
It offers an attractive landing page with a musician’s complete discography and links to their website, Twitter, and Facebook pages.
There are no commercials. You can only listen to one album at a time, but you can enjoy it in peace.
After previewing a full-length album, it’s easy to pay for and download it in a variety of digital formats, including MP3 320, FLAC, Ogg Vorbis, and several others I’ve never even heard of before. Using Paypal, I’ve downloaded albums in five minutes flat—which means a lot when I just have to have an album for my train ride home but am running late. (And if time is not a constraint and you prefer your music in CD format, many musicians offer this option too.)
From a blogger’s perspective:
Bandcamp’s nifty streaming player embeds easily into Apsara‘s WordPress page, allowing us to share full audio samples of the music we’re excited about.
There’s a bewildering array of musical selections—ranging from high school student home basement recording projects to Grammy-winning albums.
Labels like Cumbancha and its partner label Putomayo are cropping up more and more on Bandcamp, proving that they recognize that there’s more to digital music than iTunes.
The one double-edged feature to Bandcamp is its tagging structure. Musicians can set their own tags, which leads to a completely different set of results when searching for “folk pop” as opposed to “folkpop.”
On the other hand, it’s also possible to narrow results with an über-specific tag like “indie folk pop rock alt-country.” If you have the time, it’s fun to search for music by genre variation, as well as by country and even city.
Bandcamp is my online equivalent of the Exclusive Company of Madison, WI, the favored record store of my high school and college days. Digging through the crazy tag structure reminds me of rummaging through bins of world, jazz, and classical music CDs in the Exclusive Company’s basement—never quite sure what I was going to find.
Unlike the Exclusive Company though, there’s no resident classical music buff hanging out in the basement who’s happy to chat and offer recommendations.
I’ll wager that music stores will be around for a long while yet, but we’ll see next week what you have to say on the subject as we delve into the results of our “Digital Divide” survey.
In keeping with our theme of “looking back, looking ahead,” an Apsara reader from Saint Louis shared REM’SAutomatic for the People as a favorite album from a pivotal era of his life.
“This album was practically the theme for my freshman year in college, and I played it constantly. I think it was also a good album for that time in my life, when I was transitioning from one stage to another.”
Interestingly, this was an important album for me around this same time too.
It was sort of permanently on loan from my friend across the hallway, and I played “Man on the Moon” and the “Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight” endlessly—until I finally had to give it back.
Mondays often require an extra dose of good cheer.
With this in mind, I went in search for videos of the “sitar-guitar” (also just called a “sitar”) that I’d heard referenced in a conference presentation a few years ago.
I was intrigued, but time went by and I never followed up to find out what it actually sounded like. Little did I imagine what other instruments my search for the sitar-guitar would turn up today!
To launch the week, here’s an array of guitars and guitar-hybrids from around the world. And here’s to the creative musical minds that keep this instrument evolving!
Looking out a rain-spotted window at Seattle’s Capitol Hill. (Flickr/sea turtle)
We just celebrated Diwali (the Hindu new year) in our household, kicking off a season of new beginnings while winding down the current year. My birthday is also around the corner, so lately I’ve found myself thinking not only about the current year but also about years past.
Like many people, music strongly calls to mind for me a specific time and place in my memories—all of which connect to where I’m at, the music I listen to, and the person who I am now. From now until the end of December, Apsara will feature a number of artists and albums who represent important influences on the road leading up to its creation in April 2011.
And along the way, we’ll also showcase some of your picks for the music that comprises the soundtrack to your life. We welcome you to e-mail us at apsaramusicblog [at] gmail.com with the name of an artist and album that reminds you of a significant moment or era in your life, with a few sentences about the place that it takes you back to.
I’ll go first, with an artist and album that I only “discovered” just this weekend, but whose music reminds me both of my years in Seattle and of my life in California now.
Robert Deeble is not exactly a household name, but this understated indie folk artist has been garnering critical praise with his albums and performances since the late 1990s. He only releases recordings every few years. The gap between his last album and his forthcoming November release spans six years, for example.
There’s a languid pace to his music that reminds me of life on the California coast, so I was not surprised to discover that Deeble hails from Long Beach. But he’s also spent several years in Seattle, and to my ears that sound comes through in the mellow guitar chords and quiet lyrics. Listening to “Blue,” I’m at once standing on the cliff overlooking Steamer Lane and sitting in the bus to Capitol Hill watching raindrops roll down the window.
Blue
you make me smile
when your mood
lies down
here for awhile
could you afford a major chord
to make us all smile?
Moon shine down let your blue light hue touch the ground
do you mind keeping time
here with my sound?
Now that I live in California, I feel that I’m “home.” But I’m also a little wistful for the rainy days of dreaming in coffee shops, and I’m grateful for the many friends and amazing musical experiences that I had in Seattle that continue to influence and make my life fulfilling today.
The Rajasthan International Folk Festival (RIFF), an annual five-day celebration of folk music and performance traditions from around the globe, just wrapped up this past Sunday in Jodhpur, India. Famous for its royal history and its traditional arts, Rajasthan is a major international travel destination. Tourism means more business for the state, but how do Rajasthan’s artists fare?
A bird’s-eye view of Jodhpur. (Sarah Lin Bhatia)
During a folk performance in Rajasthan’s Thar Desert a few weeks ago, I found myself pulled from my comfortable cushion at the edge of the stage and made to dance in front of a large, cheering crowd. I soon realized that I was tripping over my feet not to a Rajasthani folk song but to a familiar Bollywood tune played on dholak and harmonium!
Rajasthan abounds with artistic talent and its famed handicraft markets overflow with colorful wares ranging from hand-printed bedspreads to exquisite silverwork. Such abundance and the availability of cheaper, factory-made goods begs the question: How can artists make a living in Rajasthan?
Roughly the size of New Mexico, Rajasthan is a large state in northwestern India with vast stretches of desert. The “Land of Kings,” it consisted of approximately 20 small kingdoms before India’s independence and partition in 1947. This, in part, accounts for the almost overwhelming variety of musicians, dancers, and artists in Rajasthan today.
Meharuddin Langa, a “living legend,” playing the algoza during an RIFF performance.
Outside of Jodhpur, we visited a family of weavers long renowned for the quality of their carpets, and in Jaisalmer we met an uncle-nephew puppet troupe carrying on a five-generations-old tradition. Every artist we met seemed to have a similar story of inherited skills.
Thousands of people from India and abroad visit the state each year looking to experience traditional Rajasthani culture. Palace-themed hotels, camel safaris, and “folk” music and dance performances such as we attended appear to be flourishing. Tourism is unquestionably vital to Rajasthan’s economy, but after a few days of travel I found myself wondering if it benefits everyone in the same way.
Surviving as an artist in Rajasthan is definitely as challenging as it is the world over, and the downside to tourism is that it can reduce artistry to mere “lite fare.” Perhaps the more important question then is: How can Rajasthan sustain its vibrant artistic traditions in a way that both honors the past and helps its artists grow and thrive?
Several visionary individuals and organizations in Rajasthan have already taken up the call to achieve this goal, including encouraging collaboration between Rajasthani and international artists. The Jaipur Virasat Foundation (JVF), a nonprofit trust founded by John and Faith Singh in 2002, is at the forefront of this movement.
“Virasat” means “heritage” in Hindi—a fitting designation for an organization dedicated to promoting Rajathan’s traditional arts as well as to creating new opportunities. The folk festival is one of JVF’s many initiatives, and the trust has conducted searches throughout remote parts of Rajasthan for the state’s most talented artists.
A few years ago, JVF brought UK artists Jason Singh and Bex Mather to Rajasthan to conduct workshops and perform with folk musicians. The result? Dharohar: A sensitive and successful merging of artists from different cultural and social backgrounds who toured and performed together throughout India. During the performances, Singh joined forces with morchang (mouth harp)-player Raies Khan for a jugalbandhi (duet) such as the world has never seen before.
Arrangements for traditional instruments go awry very quickly when sounds and instruments are senselessly thrown together—particularly so in the vague genre of “fusion” music. But Singh and Khan’s musical duo works because it’s an innovatively simple pairing of musical techniques and artists who are perfectly attuned to one another.
Are projects like Dharohar and RIFF sustainable and will they benefit artists in the long run? Optimistically, I would say “yes,” because such types of well-organized performances and recording projects provide Rajasthani artists with access to the growing number of people with globally oriented, non-commercial music interests. And for listeners, it is now easier to discover such music thanks in great part to the internet.
Of course, nonprofit projects are susceptible to the ebb and flow of funding, and there’s also commercially oriented competition in Rajasthan…which brings me back to the subject of tourism. If not specifically visiting to attend RIFF or another festival, what can a tourist possibly do to help Rajasthani artists?
Take a little time to research before you go. (I write this tongue-in-cheek having attended a Bollywood-themed performance.) Cruise the internet a bit and reach out to a local non-profit organization, which may be able to recommend lesser-known performances and artist collectives. We found a lot of handicraft collectives, both in the city and in the countryside.
Don’t be afraid to explore and ask around once you’re there. In our case, this led to a private puppet show and a dance performance in the courtyard of a lakeside haveli.
Again, tourism is essential to Rajasthan’s economic vitality and even the commercial ventures provide opportunities for artists. But options do exist that more fully showcase the individuals who are helping to keep the state’s amazing artistic traditions alive, so why not choose one of those instead? You’ll have a more meaningful and memorable experience—and if you aren’t careful, you might also find yourself onstage.
Musician playing the ravanhatta at Jodhpur’s Mehrangarh Fort. (Sarah Lin Bhatia)
After an exhausting and incredible month, I’m back from my travels. Work requires a bit of extra attention right now, so I’ll publish Apsara‘s first fall feature next week.
India stays with you long after you’ve left. I’ve been thinking a lot about the performances that my husband and I were lucky enough to catch in Rajasthan, and especially about the marketing of Rajasthani “folk” music as a genre. I’ll be discussing this in next week’s feature.
In the meantime, here’s “Rajputana Road,” a well-produced song by Gaurav Venkateswar that he created from an iPhone recording of Rajasthani folk musicians. It conveys the musical conundrum of “tradition” and “technology” and where these two fit together.
A street scene in Mumbai. (Flickr/Christopher John SSF)
I am going on vacation! Well, actually I am attending a conference first, and then I get to visit my husband’s family in India.
For the rest of the month, we will not be publishing any new content on Apsara, but thanks to my terrific friend Toby who is filling in on Twitter and Facebook, we will still be able to feature artists regularly.
Thank you, truly, for a wonderful summer (and infinite thanks to Rose for her great energy and copy editing skills)! I look forward to seeing you when I return from my travels!
Former journalist Scott Allan Stevens discusses his perspective on “world music,” an increasingly ambiguous term and genre that he knows well from his years of hosting KAOS FM’s Spin the Globe radio show and of reviewing music on his blog SoundRoots. (If you are quick enough, you might even win a CD!)
Scott Allan Stevens
How many years has Spin the Globe been in existence and where did you originally get the idea for it? Did the show or the SoundRoots blog come first?
First, thanks for inviting me to Apsara…I appreciate the opportunity to talk to another group of readers with globally open ears and minds!
My radio show Spin the Globe emerged after I’d been listening to global music for more than a decade; this music was essentially the soundtrack to my international studies emphasis at university, my work as a journalist, and some far-flung travels. After four years as an editor at the Christian Science Monitor in Boston, I returned to my native Pacific Northwest and rediscovered the great community and radio stations here. I found out about free training at KAOS FM in Olympia, Washington, and I knew I had musical knowledge and a personal music collection that would add something new to the airwaves, so I signed up. In September 1999, Spin the Globe first aired, and it has been a wild ride ever since.
SoundRoots came along later in 2005 as a way to share CD reviews, a concert calendar, and other info in the time between Spin the Globe episodes. The “Monday’s MP3” posts are probably the most popular; recently I’ve had some guest posts, which is helpful since I’ve had less time to spend blogging. I’d love to post the many interviews I’ve done over the years; I guess that’s a project for the future.
Do you find that the core of your listeners are from Olympia, the South Puget Sound Area in general, or now with the internet are they simply from around the world? What about your SoundRoots readers?
SoundRoots has readers from all over the world, most from the United States and other English-speaking nations, though many visitors are from France, Germany, Ukraine, and Russia, among many other places. Spin the Globe has something of a three-pronged audience. First, the listeners of the KAOS broadcast are, of course, concentrated around Olympia. Second, I know a number of listeners catch the show via the live KAOS webstream. And third, Spin the Globe is available online for a few weeks after airing. According to stats for 2011, the show has the most listeners in the United States, Japan, Canada, France, the UK, and Germany. I’ve also received emails from listeners in Serbia, Brazil, Malaysia…you name it. But not North Korea. Not yet, anyway.
“World music,” as you aptly state on the Spin the Glob website, is a bit open to interpretation. If pressed, how do you define it in a few sentences?
How hard are you pressing? Seriously, I’ve thought a lot and written some about this (see my conversation with Scott Kettner of Nation Beat). I’m trying to use the phrase “world music” less and less, though it’s still useful if I have only a moment to convey the idea. Or I’ll say that I’m interested in global music with distinct ethnic roots. And yes, that can include anything from Inuit overtone singing to Ghanian drumming to New Orleans brass bands, as well as modern fusions building on such traditions.
A performance during the 2009 WOMEX festival in Copenhagen. (Flickr/Programa Música Minas)
In the years that you have been hosting the show and blogging, how do you think that the world music industry has evolved? What do you think are the forces behind any changes that you have seen? Who are the major players nowadays?
The huge shifts in the music industry in general have also hit the “world music” sector, clearly. The internet is probably the single biggest change, allowing artists to connect to listeners more easily and directly and also bringing the scourge of illegal file sharing. For fans of global music, though, the ability to go online to search and buy music from all over the world is amazing. You may be the only person in your city to own a CD by some little-known artist from Kenya or Vietnam…how cool is that? Some record labels are flailing as the musicians connect directly with fans, cutting out the middleman, and I’m seeing an amazing number of self-released CDs these days. At the same time, it’s great to see innovations by some labels. The Rough Guides are now packaged with an entire bonus CD, for example, and a download will never be as good as getting a complete package such as the CD, DVD, artwork, and extensive liner notes that come with the Smithsonian Folkways recordings. Innovative artists and labels will survive.
How, if at all, has the internet changed the way that you find music to play on your show and review on your blog? What are some of the resources that you use?
The internet is a huge part of the research I do each week as I prepare for Spin the Globe and as I write reviews. For musicians I haven’t seen perform live, YouTube can be a great way to get a sense of their performance style. I’ll also visit band and label websites for info. Many global music labels have freebies to entice visitors, by the way. For example, Indies Scope usually posts a free song from each of their releases. Download a bunch of those and you’ve got a great Czech compilation!
While I like videos and interviews with artists, I try to avoid reading other reviews before I’ve reviewed an album. It’s much more interesting to read them later and see the points of agreement and difference with other reviewers.
I also follow dozens of music blogs in Google Reader, many of them focusing on older, out of print LPs. For example, I just nabbed a great mbaqanga album from 1979 from Electric Jive. (While I love blogs like this one, I’m aghast at the blogs that post entire new albums for free downloading. If listeners don’t pay for music, artists don’t get paid. If artists don’t get paid, they’ll get another job and listeners lose. It’s that simple. I always post links to the artist’s website and a legitimate source for the music, because SoundRoots is about discovery and exploration, not about giving away free music.*
A Brunswick recording, distributed in China. (Flickr/Bunky’s Pickle)
Finally, how do you think that the internet may help or hinder artists around the world, especially independent musicians?
Again, it’s all about the innovation. I’m a photographer as well as a radio DJ and blogger, and photography is going through many of the same issues as the music business. Both involve a product that can be easily stolen and pirated. Like photographers, musicians need to keep up with technology and use it to connect with their audience. The internet (along with tablets, smartphones, and whatever comes next) allows one to reach well beyond the local market to make fans, sell product, and even fund future product through crowdsourcing. Of course the key with music or photography or anything else is to have a quality product to start with. The proliferation of tools to make music (and photos) means we all have to wade through more mediocre offerings. I spend more time than I’d like dealing with music that’s either bad or inappropriate for what I do.
Independent musicians in our turbulent but exciting world can thrive by being good at their craft, observant about their audience, and innovative in connecting the two. And music lovers can contribute by going to live shows and actually buying the music. And, if you happen to live near a community radio station, perhaps by getting your own show to highlight a unique musical niche that the mainstream media ignores. Maybe I’ll see you at KAOS?
*Well, SoundRoots isn’t all about giving away free music. But now and then we like giving away a CD. So head on over and you’ll have a chance to win…let me see what’s kicking around here…Ah! I’ll give away the album Tango 3.0 by Gotan Project. I’ll post the contest about the same time as this interview appears on Apsara. Good luck, and thanks for reading and for your interest in global music with distinct ethnic roots!
Do you find that the core of your listeners are from Olympia, the South Puget Sound Area in general, or now with the internet are they simply from around the world? What about your SoundRoots readers?
