Bombino Concert

            This Wednesday our class took a field trip to a concert by Bombino. Omara Moctar, stage named “Bombino”, is an internationally acclaimed Tuareg guitarist and singer-songwriter from Niger. He came out with traditional garb on and three backup singers and musicians dressed similarly.

            The pieces of Bombino’s concert were better than I expected. I was not thrilled about the choice of field trip, but once he started to play I got into it. Though I could not understand him, the music sounded mixed with a modern aesthetic. It was like listening to something I would usually listen to but in another language. So, yes, his pieces were mostly accessible besides the language barrier. Yet, because of the language barrier I don’t think I truly understood the songs or got any deeper meaning that wasn’t just nice to the ears. Lyrics to a sound are definitely important to me as a writer and reader—I want to know the story and point of view.

            Bombino presented his music in a way that seemed very normal to what Westerners are used to. It was a regular stage, with a regular set up. However, there were some things that I noticed. Like mentioned before, they were all garbed in foreign attire. Bombino had an interesting way of moving and tapping his feet to the music. Their instruments were Western, but like someone said before in class, they didn’t seem the best quality. This did not stop them from doing great with what they had and communicating to the Western audience in a way that grabbed their attention and also made them feel connected and attainable.

            The concert was performed in an American university auditorium. The audience was mostly white, American, and at least half or more college-aged. It was a fascinating mix between an older African singer and younger American listeners. However, the audience to me, was pretty irritating. Towards the beginning of the concert a lot of students got up and started dancing up front, ruining the formal mood and blocking the seated audience members. Maybe this was a good thing that showed the audience was getting into the music, but I thought it was a bit unnecessary, chaotic, and rude. For example, the elderly couple next to me were complaining about how they couldn’t see and the whole time a guy who obviously had never showered in his life was dancing next to us, so they had to more to escape the odor (I braved it out.)

            One thing I particularly liked is when Bombino switched from the acoustic guitar to the electric guitar and the drummer to an electric as well. There was immediately a change in the environment. It went from calm and dreamy to exciting and passionate. That was something I enjoyed listening to. It conveyed a lot of soul. It had the audience dancing more wildly than before, whether that was a good or bad thing. Before, I was not bored, but it made me sleepy, yet when the electric music started to play I was woken up and ready to listen.

Whose Is This Song?

Whose Is This Song? is a film in which a woman named Adela Peeva who travels to various countries to ask about a song she knows from her Bulgarian childhood. To her, the song is Bulgarian, but to others, it’s Serbian, Greek, Albanian, Turkish, Macedonian, or Bosnian. Throughout Eastern Europe it seems that this song has made it from place to place and altered it’s history and origins along the way. This showed me that though countries may be different and vary in culture, their music can be universal. Music can be adapted and weaved into a new history. Perhaps this has to do with how in Eastern Europe music has similarities between cultures and way the music sounds, the instruments, singers, languages, etc. Eastern Europeans also seem to be very, very possessive of their music, lots of nationalism in connection to songs.

            The song varies in lyrics from country to country. Sometimes it’s about a girl, other times not. Through out the film different people sang it depending on country. Some were men, such as a film director, others were women, even professional singers. It seemed to be for the basic class of people or maybe for all. Different people, different occupations, different genders, all knew this song. However, I will mention that these people were up in age. I think it must be more of an older traditional song, something that is less what the younger generations listen to—the difference between classical and current. The song was sometimes even connected to religion or connected to the rejection of an opposing religion.

            Once again, the song is about identity, nationalism, pride and possession. A popular song is sacred. Everyone wants to think their country wrote the song, inspired the song, first sang the song. Not so much “want” but utterly believes. They are certain that this song is their song. Only one man thought otherwise, but this was because his mother was Macedonian and he connected the song to her rather than his own country. It’s a matter of pride and identity. It is so strong that at one point Peeva was threatened to be knocked out for suggesting to one nationality of people that the song belong to another nationality. Another time she was threatened to be stoned or hanged.

            However, regardless of what these people believe, no one can say for sure where the song began, what country created it. The cycle of the song from place to place proves that these Eastern European countries are more connected and similar than they would like to think. Enemies are more like cousins.

            I think that in terms of the United States that our anthem, the “Star-Spangled Banner” would be the song of our identity and something Americans hold to their heart as theirs and no one else’s. Personally, I don’t feel strongly about it, because I think it sugarcoats the history of the USA which is not the heroic country it makes itself out to be and overall I’m not very patriotic. This being said it was interesting to see people care so much about a song and be so patriotic. In my opinion, it was to the point where it was discriminatory and extreme.

Sugato's performance

This Sunday our music cultures of the world class were given the opportunity to see Sugato Nag, an Indian sitar player, both in lecture and in concert.

Sugato’s demonstration was almost as if we were students in a sitar playing class. He led us along a lecture on how playing the sitar works and other various details about sitar playing culture. He showed us the tuning of the sitar and how to play the chords. We learned that the chords were actually from Germany, a top-notch brand to produce the best possible quality sound. He told us sitar playing on requires one tonic unlike Western instruments and music. Also, how you only end on this one type of note or else it will sound wrong to the ears of sitar players and Indians. These teachings were were accessible in some ways and difficult in others. He used a lot of musical terms that I think the musicians among my fellow classmates got, but I, myself, have no background in instruments and fell into some confusion. For example, when he said, “Everyone knows that” for something I thought, “Well, no, not me.” However, what I liked the best were the bits about Indian culture and history. It was interesting to me how he said there are different sitar songs to play at night and at day, at twilight, at summer, at fall, at winter, at spring, etc. There is something very mythological and religious about that so it grabbed my attention more than actually learning how the instrument worked.

I noticed Sugato tried to communicate the teachings of the sitar through visual aspects. He would tell us something then demonstrate each time. I think he also connecting ways of the sitar to Western instruments as to help the audience understand through using concepts they are familiar with.

For the lecture, most of the audience was huddled are close on the floor in front of Sugato. For the concert, we were seated like a typical small concert. Sugato remarked that it was not the traditional way of enjoying a sitar concert, but rather the lecture version was how it is traditionally done. I suppose that means sitar playing and listening is personal and meant to connect from players to audience.

As for the pieces, they all had the constant droning on Sugato’s iPod to start of with. With this basic drone came the music of the sitar and tablas. The sitar and tablas acted as partners, one feeding of the other and vice versa. I believe Sugato explained that there are twelve beats. I don’t remember which piece it was, but my favorite was when Sugato and the tablas player picked up the speed of playing greatly. It was frantic, frequent, and exciting.

I did not pay attention to the other audience members much, though I saw some shaking their heads to the music or smiling as if they enjoyed themselves and/or were impressed. I think others looked less into it. The reactions of the audience were a mesh of difference attitudes, which is to be expected. I don’t know if everyone “got it”, but I assume everyone who came at least respected the talent of the players regardless if they got it or did not like the music style in particular.

"Joan of Arc" by Arcade Fire

Fall break was god-sent. I counted down the days until it happened, because college has not been an experience I’ve enjoyed for far: I missed my house, I missed my city, I missed my friends, my dogs, everything. Yet when I got home, I felt empty too. Wary. Mostly, because I knew it was only for a week and then back to college.

My fall break has been prominently relaxing and feeling bad and nothing too adventurous. I hung out with my two best friends, both who live in our city still, going to the University of South Carolina, but other than them, no one else had fall break and in regards to the people I used to know from high school, Columbia is like a ghost town. Everyone’s moved on.

During my time of sulking on the couch, binge watching The Walking Dead on Netflix (and at first, I thought of writing this entry on the opening theme of this show, it fit with the melancholy theme, but no), an album leaked. Arcade Fire’s new album Reflektor. It was exciting. Arcade Fire’s songs are some of my biggest inspirations for my writing. Their songs “Ready to Start” and “Wake Up” made me experience things more boldly than any other songs before.

I liked these new songs, I enjoyed the Greek mythology themes of the figures Orpheus and Eurydice, but most of all I latched onto their new song “Joan of Arc.” The title instantly grabbed my attention first. I was raised in Catholic school from age 4 to sixth grade. My childhood idol was Joan of Arc, Jeanne d’Arc, Jehanne d’Ark, etc. The fourteen-year-old peasant girl who said she heard angels telling her to led France against Britain during the Hundred Years’ War. She dressed in traditional male clothing, cut her hair, and led several victories for France until she was burned at the stake at nineteen for crossdressing. So, Joan of Arc has always been an important figure to me up with my other favorites, Pallas Athena, Marie Antoinette, and Hua Mulan.

I hoped that this song would be the best on the album and it is. It starts off frantic, a completely different beat than the rest of the song. It accelerates quickly and then the main beat comes in, decelerating. The main vocals are male who is speaking as a follower of Joan of Arc. He talks about how many people in France hated Joan and even sent her to her death, but now in France, Britain, and around the world she is regarded as a martyr, a saint, and a heroine. As he criticizes the others, he says he’ll follow her truly even when the others are over her, though in actuality he only wants to know her personally. Whenever the male vocalist sings “Joan of Arc” a woman follows with “Jeanne d’Arc.” Then comes in a second singer, the woman this time. She sings the part of Joan of Arc herself. Her lyrics are in complete French:

“Tu dis que tu est mon juge

Mais je ne te crois pas

Alors tu dis que je suis une sainte

Mais ce n'est pas moi

J'entends des voix

Mais ce n'est pas moi

Je ne suis pas Jeanne d'Arc.”

This translates into:

“You say that you are my judge

But I do not believe you

So you're saying I'm a saint

But it is not me

I hear voices

But it is not me

I'm not Joan of Arc.”

This changes the meaning of the song a bit and the tone to an extent. It seems that the woman is not actually Joan of Arc, but a woman this man idolizes and is in love with. This changes the tone to perhaps a certain uneasy, stalkerish vibe. The song is upbeat, but the lyrics are dark, making an obvious contrast.

Despite the dark texture of the song, it helped bring a bit of excitement and cheer to my week.

The song:

http://erinraspberry.tumblr.com/post/64980844539/joan-of-arc-arcade-fire-reflektor-2013

Fieldwork Proposal

            As someone who sees herself as a writer and who plans to major in Creative Writing, I thought I would like to do my fieldwork project relating to this subject. In my musical background project I explained how music was important to me in regards to my writing—that I almost always write to the sound of songs, particularly tracks that come from the original scores from films and television series. This had me wondering—do other writers do the same thing?

 On 8tracks, a music sharing website that allows you to listen to music mixes that people created towards different themes, there are many mixes that revolve around “music to listen to while writing.” Also worth nothing, my Introduction to Creative Writing professor stated that she listens to music when she writes while some of my fellow classmates expressed that they could not, or at least could not with songs that involved lyrics.

            Therefore, what I propose to do for my fieldwork project is an incorporation of music and creative writing. Basically, to collect the information of whether or not most writers listen to music when they write, and if they do, what kind? Does it depend on the type of writer that they are? What I plan to do is collect data from my Introduction to Creative Writing class and my Brevity: Short Stories class—in both of these classes the students focus on writing prose, poetry, and memoir. And so, I would like to pass out a sheet of paper around during these two classes, asking the students and the professors, to jot down their names, the type of genre they mostly write in, if they listen to music when they write, and what artists/genres they listen to including the name of at least on song example. Then I plan to listen to each of the songs my classmates and professors chose, reflect on whether or not listening or not listening the music while writing depends on the type of writers, if certain types of writers have similar tastes in music, etc. I might even try writing to these songs myself as a test run.

“Waslah in Maqam Huzam” by Nidaa Abou Mrad and the Ensemble of Classical Arab Music

The music sample this weekend is called “Waslah in Maqam Huzam” by Nidaa Abou Mrad and the Ensemble of Classical Arab Music. Upon doing research, I am not completely positive where this type of music originates from. A possible answer is Egypt, though this country is in Africa it is considered Middle Eastern. I read that it is played by “a takht in Egypt.” A takht being a representative musical ensemble, the orchestra, etc, of Middle Eastern music.

The start of the song could be considered improvisation or it could be the beginning of the song. To my ears, it could go either way. If it is not the beginning, then the beginning is fifteen seconds in when the music is toned down and takes on a different sound. It repeats the same pattern over and over again. At fifty seconds it becomes quieter, the instrument is one and made simpler in sound. Around one-fifteen I believe the improvisation starts. I think this is improvisation, because there is no pattern. It is a random bunch of sounds and strokes, though it sounds well enough to pass for planned. After this, a singer starts to sing, beginning a new aspect to the song. The improvisation stops there and begins the pattern again. Contrasting instruments start to play, more than one type, in company with his voice. At three-fifty improvisation starts up again, this time more chaotic and with a different instrument. The “true” ending is immediately after the singer stops singing and then there is an add-on of improvisational strumming. All the singing, however, seems to be to the same tune, a strophic form. The way he sings I could imagine a story is being told as well as a slow dance to go with the scheduled music and a picked-up in speed dancing for the improvisation. This could be why it’s structured the way it is. In regards to a story, it makes me think the calm music is for the setting of the story, the drawn out explanation, and the improvisation is for the action, perhaps the emotions of the characters such as rage or despair or ecstasy. The long drawn out bit in the song struck me as distress, lostness, or confusion.

When researching this style of music, I found out more information such as that Arabic maqam is the system of melodic modes of which is used in traditional Arabic music. Arabic music is known to be mainly melodic. Maqam means place, location of position. It is also a melody type, being a technique of, yes, improvisation--improvisation that defines the pitches, patterns, and development of a piece of music. This is known to be unique to Arabian art music. It is subject to no definite organization, no "established, regularly recurring bar scheme nor an unchanging meter. A certain rhythm does sometimes identify the style of a performer, but this is dependent upon his performance technique and is never characteristic of the maqam as such." As for “waslah”--this is a set of pieces in Arabic music of which comprises eight or more movements.

As for my opinion of this music sample, I enjoyed it. It was pleasing to the ears and I think I really enjoy Middle Eastern style of music, there is something whimsical and fun about it. I liked the improvisation--is the music does belong to a story, this improvisation definitely works for storytelling.

"Dingildai" by Igor Koshkendey

The music sample presented this time around titled “Dingildai” by Igor Koshkendey comes from Tuva. Also known as the Tyva Republic, Tuva is a federal subject of Russia that lies in the center of Asia in southern Siberia. Most people who live in Tuva are Tuvans, however they mostly speak Russian. This song is sung in a voice quite different from what is prevalent in Western music. I am not totally sure of whether or not the performers are using a Western scale, but considering they are not Westerners, I’m assuming they are not. The sound is too different, I feel, for it to be a Western scale. I do not think is a tonic, the tone seems to stay the same, except when the singers do an odd throat noise every so often. I believe the is a harmony and I feel like it would be dissonant, because the song sounds complicated, even though the voices are fairly even throughout. The harmony then switches to consonant when the drawn out throat noise happens specifically. The instruments’ sounds actually seem to match the singers’ voices well, both being harsh, throaty, and “off pitch” to what we are used to in the Western world. The man and woman’s voices are sung in rounds, never matching up quite at the same time when they sing together. There seems to be interlocking among the musicians and singers. It is hard to tell if it is heterophony, homophony, monophony, or polyphony, but I think it is heterophony. The long throat sound might be a drone effect.

From my research I discovered that Igor Koshkendey is a Tuvan musician. Before I researched him I assumed the music and the musician was Russian and I was not far off. When I looked him up he did not appear as an individual, but as a band established in 1996. This band is called Chirgilchin which translates to “dance of the air in the heat of the day” or “miracle” in Tuvan. It consists of, of course, Igor Koshkendey, and then Mongun-ool Ondar, Aldar Tamdyn, and Aidysmaa Koshkendey. I learned that he is an expert at the Oidupaa style which is a type of kargyraa, otherwise known as Tuvan throat singing. He has mastered six different throat-singing styles as well as is working on his very own. Tuvan throat singing is a type of singing where one of more pitches sound at the same time over a fundamental pitch which produces a unique, interesting sound. Tuvan throat singing originated from male herders who would throat sing. These days women are starting to practice Tuvan throat singing as well (as we heard in this music sample.) It seems that throat singing was a result of geographic location and culture. This is due to the open landscape of Tuva which allows for a the sounds to carry a wide distance. Many throat singers practice near rivers and mountain sides.

I did not particularly like the song or how throat singing sounds, but it was entertaining. It’s fascinating to hear new types of techniques of making music that I have never been presented with before.