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.