Montevideo is a loud city. Hell, I came here for one of the things that make it a loud city. During the day: car horns, motorcycles, 80s music, constant construction, conversations that try to compete with everything else. At night (choose from): kids playing soccer using security bars over windows as the goal netting, shouting matches, construction with jackhammers (last nights wonderful new edition). Headphones and an endless assortment of music are my escape. The music is often accompanied with reading, quite often other blogs. Here's some of what has captured my attention lately:
Sō Percussion, particularly Adam Sliwinski's blog. There's not a lot, and he hasn't posted in 6 months, but it's well worth the read. If I could grow up to be a cool percussionist, I hope I'll be as creative as the Sō guys. I somehow arrived at his blog through Adam's post of John Cage's "Some Rules for Teachers and Students." Since I had seen those before, only attributed to someone else, of course I went to Google...
Sister Corita Kent is the name I recognized as the author of the "Rules." Either way, they're worth knowing. Her art is pretty amazing, too...
The Gutenberg Parentheses: Oral Tradition and Digital Technologies. If you have two hours, this is interesting stuff. I like the idea of a super-literacy and secondary orality. Words are escaping the confines of the bound page...
I can't get enough of the articles and video highlights of the South Carolina Gamecocks taking the Clemson Tigers to the woodshed. Three years in a row. Never thought I'd see it in my lifetime...
Some of my best friends continue to be my biggest inspirations. Sometimes I think I keep pushing to accomplish something meaningful just to keep up. The most recent example is Baljinder Sekhon's Twelve Virtues for soprano and percussion ensemble...
I'm always aware of hunger. Food Network, Jamie Oliver, Rachel Ray; easy on the budget recipes. No success here yet as I still don't look to ever save enough to buy drums without not eating...
Wanting Bob Boilen's job. All songs really aren't considered, but there are musical gems in almost every one of these NPR podcasts...
Community and The Tudors. TV shows available on Netflix not overdubbed in Spanish...
And somehow, candombe is never far away, as I've been aware of the open word document the entire time I've been writing this post. I refer you now to Rule 7...
This week I find myself forced to analyze my project in such a way that it appears I am proposing research. To present in writing what it is I plan to do, the methods I will use to accomplish these tasks, and detail the possible benefits to individuals and society. So here's as honest an account as I can give:
If just one book (Spanish or English text) had satisfied my curiosity about the evolution of candombe drumming, I wouldn't be here. Truthfully, I have no problems with any of the works I read regarding candombe culture, except that I wanted to see and hear (when possible) examples of these rhythms within their social and musical contexts. There are two authors on which I designed my early proposals: George Reid Andrews (USA) and Luis Ferreira (UY).
Andrews goal was never to provide a musical analysis of the drumming, and his one attempt is quite generic:
"The music is played on three types of drums--chico, repique, and piano--each of which has a different voice--alto, tenor, and bass, respectively--and plays a different rhythmic figure. The piano hits heavy downbeats on one and four, with intervening syncopated eighth and sixteenth notes; the chico leaps in immediately following each beat with a sequence of three sixteenth notes. Both drums pound out the same stuttering phrases over and over again, in a deep aesthetic of monotony; the repique players have more freedom to improvise, and drive the group forward with their counterrhythms." (Blackness in the White Nation, 129)
To his credit, he does provide an endnote with suggested recordings, websites, and print resources; including Luis Ferreira's Los tambores del candombe. But I was inspired by Reid Andrews, and Blackness in the White Nation is always close at hand, continuing to provide a framework upon which I continue to expand my own investigation.
When I first received Los tambores del candombe on interlibrary loan, I almost decided to walk away from the project. At that time, my Spanish reading ability was non-existent, but as I flipped through the pages, it appeared Luis Ferreira had accomplished what I was seeking. Beginning on page 104 were musical examples; transcriptions of rhythms as performed by master candombe drummers. As I dug deeper though, I found it was as difficult to decipher his notational examples as it was to read the Spanish. When I would compare my interpretation of his notation with examples of performers through recorded examples, I was never close to acheiving accuracy. I later realized there were some problems with my early translations affecting these interpretations, but this didn't account for all of the inaccuracies. Ultimately it was the unavailability of the book that persuaded me to continue my own analysis. I'm happy to say that after searching for the book regularly since 2009, including stops at every bookstore I happened upon in Montevideo, I found a copy of Los tambores on the internet in September.
Notation example from Ferreira, p. 133
Obviously there are other sources, the majority of which are all Spanish texts, and several are out-of-print. I never pass up the opportunity to peruse the shelves in the many Montevidean bookstores for copies, but have yet to find myself lucky. I will say that since the latter half of 2009, materials have appeared more frequently online, particularly recorded examples via YouTube. I have the belief this upsurge in interest corresponds with candombe's placement on UNESCO's list of Intangible Cultural Heritage.
As for progress in Montevideo...language is still my biggest obstacle. I think the constant struggle with speaking and understanding others is why I've felt really worn down the last couple of weeks. I should probably admit that since being robbed in September, I'm constantly anxious when I go out. I'm sure many of you are probably sick of hearing it, but I miss constant musical interaction, and it takes its toll constantly being the spectator. Several of my contacts just want me to ask questions, and when the drum is removed, all is "lost in translation." I don't see much of this as negative, only difficult, which provides some clarity regarding my musical and personal values. I digress...
The project is changing. I am fascinated with the representation of the Llamada rhythms, means of transmission, and their association with cultural heritage (patrimonio). Knowing this is the direction has made it easier to create a list of people and groups I'd like to speak with/follow. I keep starting blog posts dedicated to each of these topics, then deleting them because I feel they get out of hand, demonstrating my lack of a theoretical background to properly address the issues. I do however keep trying, and journaling about them because they are fascinating topics.
The final part of this review process is discussing the possible benefits of the research. There's the obvious "expand on previous scholarship" answer, and help provide additional visibility to this music and its performers. More than anything I want to find ways to make sure the world experiences candombe by those who live it. Many of the drummers I work with seem perplexed that I am doctoral candidate, but not officially a student anymore; that I am a Fulbright scholar without a job. I can't promise funding to visit the University of Miami. A proposal might not be awarded a spot on a program at an event like the Percussive Arts Society International Convention (PASIC). I mention Miami and PAS because both are excellent venues for candombe programs; particularly UM's Festival Miami concert series, and of course PASIC is an obvious choice.
This upcoming weekend will mark the beginning of my fifth month in Uruguay, and December 3 is the National Day of Candombe: Afro-Uruguayan Culture and Racial Equality. There's a huge parade (40+ candombe groups), and several other major events. A busy week for sure.
Spent the last couple of days in symphony rehearsals, and wasn't involved musically. Probably the first time I've done this since the 1996.
Last night, the Orquesta Filharmonic de Montevideo presented a concert in Teatro Solis featuring rioplatense musical styles. I was primarily around for rehearsals of the candombe portion of the show, which included drummers and other performers from Mundo Afro. I was also able to hear the show from backstage. It's always interesting when "classical" musicians are forced to perform "popular" rhythms. There was some frustration on both sides: the candombe drummers felt the orchestral arrangements were "square," and there were some snobbish looks of disgust by a few orchestra members when the candombe drummers failed to follow the maestra's pattern. But in the end, there was a lot of pride in the fusion of the two worlds, and the opportunity to present this music in a very different venue.
Teatro Solís, from the stage.
The video includes clips from rehearsals on November 23, and just before the concert on the 24th. I had hoped to film the show, thinking I had a seat in the audience. Instead I listened from backstage, and with the acoustic shell, there was little space to film with dancers entering and exiting the stage. One highlight of the night was hearing Astor Piazzolla's Oblivion performed using an actual bandoneón; wish I could've recorded some of that performance as well. Also, while waiting for the show to begin, I happened upon a xylophone...inspired to find I was still able to play the opening to Porgy and Bess (using fingers, but what the hell, I remembered it).
Looking back to September 29. These videos are from the Tucuta Nyanzá concert I attended on September 29 in Sala Zitarrosa. The show was promoted as "candombe-fusion." I've also included here the complete set by Berta Pereira and Pollo Píriz, which was for me the highlight of the night. "Tucuta" is the nickname of Ricardo "Tucuta" Soto, and his current band Nyanzá, which I've also seen spelled Ñanza. The following is my translation of a description of the show with some history; in general I've found more extensive info is difficult to come by:
"Candombe-fusion refers to an original repertory of music from Montevideo, the capital of candombe, and combines elements of jazz, rock-and-roll, and Afro-Latin rhythms. The group Nyanza continues the instrumental lineage of Lady Jones, serving to support the music composed by songwriter and musician Ricardo "Tucuta"Soto. Nyanzá's repertoire combines the classic instrumentaion of Lady Jones and new versions of songs by Uruguayan composers Eduardo Mateo and Georginho Gularte, among others. Also featured are versions of 'Alfonsina y el mar' by Ariel Ramirez, 'Los ejes de mi carreta' by Atahualpa Yupanqui, and 'Frente al mar' by Marionito Mores; these versions include the fusion of jazz and African rhythms."
This week has been about recovering from the trip to Rivera, and I'm having a difficult time doing so. I've even been writing the year as 2012.
We left around midnight last Thursday (Oct. 10), and arrived at the stadium Atilio Paiva Olivera sometime between 6:30 and 7:00AM. There wasn't a lot of sleep on the bus, and I was surprised at how rowdy the trip was since the conference started during the 9:00 hour. But schedules, or lack of maintaining them, is one of those things I will consistently struggle with here.
That being said, the three days at the conference were a challenge: lack of sleep and a lot of intense concentration during presentations that were in spanish, portuguese, or a mix of the two (portuñol). Thursday night featured a parade that included a military band, candombe from Mundo Afro, and an Umbanda group.
Mostly though, each day in Rivera was full of panels presenting topics related to issues regarding racism and discrimination against African-descended minorities in South America. The attendance for Friday evenings final panel was particularly interesting, as the audience was suddenly very small. It seems Luis Suarez had the power that night as the Uruguayan fútbol star destroyed Chile in a World Cup qualifying match. Appropriate planning took place here though since that nights panel closed with Brazilians and a Paraguayan.
The ride home was even more raucous than the trip there, with more alcohol and louder music. Mentally I was toast for that ride home. The landscape between Rivera and Montevideo though was breathtaking, with a lot of open space, gauchos, and ñandu.
Ñandu
My greatest disappointment in the trip is there wasn't a lot of room for sightseeing (I didn't take the two photos closest to this paragraph). And after three months of LOUD NOISES in Montevideo, I'd love to experience a more tranquilo Uruguay. By the time we made it back to Montevideo Saturday night/Sunday morning, I was exhausted, feeling almost as if I had the flu.
Sunday didn't offer much rest however, since I had to prepare for a Fulbright presentation on Monday, which had to be delivered in Spanish. I'm accustomed to giving presentations, and overall feel quite comfortable doing so, but was some kind of nervous for this one. It's been a long time since I've had the serious shakes due to nerves, but Monday morning they were on full display. In the end, all went well, but since, my brain's been all over the place.
Tuesday night I did take in a percussion ensemble concert by Perceum, and life felt a little more normal. It was also nice hearing a program of percussion music with which I was completely unfamiliar, though it also reminded me how little I'm actually playing here, and how much I miss that type of musical interaction.
As an aside...before I learned of candombe, I wanted to go to Iceland. Who am I kidding, I still do. Watching the Uruguayan countryside pass on the ride home from Rivera reminded me of the geographical openness I've seen in photos and videos of Iceland. For much of the trip I tried to slow my brain with the music of Björk, Ólafur Arnalds, Amiina, Steindór Anderson, and Sigur Rós. If you ever want to make even the most mundane trip feel epic, play Sigur Rós, especially the ( ) album. Then Tuesday night, NPR's All Songs Considered featured a new track from Jónsi, and my wanderlust for open spaces continues. Do yourself a favor and listen to this new track from Cameron Crowe's upcoming movie We Bought a Zoo. And if you don't know the musical names I've just mentioned, go find them, and add American Nico Muhly to the list. And that's all.
It's 8:00PM in Montevideo. Originally I thought I was going to be on a bus right now with members of Mundo Afro, headed to Rivera. The departure was pushed back to 11:00PM. Rivera is around 6 hours to the north and shares a border with Brazil. Literally shares it.
Plaza Internacional
Santana do Livramento (BR)/Rivera (UY)
We're going to Rivera for a conference organized by Mundo Afro: the 6th Foro Internacional Kizomba, commemerating the International Year for People of African Descent.
The conference opens tomorrow morning at 9:00AM. Again, the bus ride is 6 hours. I'm not usually successful when it comes to sleeping on buses or planes. Should make for an interesting few days.
We get back late Saturday night, I have Sunday "off," and on Monday must deliver a presentation en español. The first time I've ever done this. Ever. Already nervous. But I already have my script, and if I can keep that Inner Game voice in my head (who only speaks English) down to a whisper, I may be okay.
In my last post I said a little about my participation in the qualifying parade for Las Llamadas with the comparsa La Chilinga. Well, La Chilinga didn't qualify, and when the full results were released, the group was next to last. When I went out to Buceo last night, I was once again reminded of my connections to competitive marching band in United States. Everyone stood around, voicing their opinions as to the reasons for such a low ranking. I didn't understand everything since there were often a lot of people talking at once. However, two points stood out: first, for some groups the rules didn't seem to matter; and second, La Chilinga equals Argentina (as Argentines participate in this group). As for the first part, I haven't seen all the videos yet, and will never see every full run, so it's difficult to comment. The second part however deals with issues of appropriation; a notion that Argentina desires to tell the world candombe belongs to them. There were even a few jokes that perhaps I was the culprit.
What I do know is this: when that parade ended there was so much joy from everyone who participated with La Chilinga. I watched the faces in the crowd as we passed, and there were heads bobbing to the groove. I'm equally sure there were those who weren't fond of that very same groove, with allegiances to their comparsa. That's the way it goes. For me, I will always remember how great it felt to play that day, especially since in that 20 minutes I felt connected to more than just the group in Buceo. With candombe as our common language, I felt Uruguayan.
El restode esta entrada espara cualquier persona queparticipó en las Pruebas para Admisión de LasLlamadas; ganadores y perdedores. También me gustaríaconocer la opiniónde los espectadorese inclusoel jurado. ¿Cómo te sientesacerca de los resultados? ¿Cambiasus sentimientos sobreel rendimiento de sucomparsa? Responder directamenteal blog, me envía un correo electrónico (csutton1@hotmail.com) oun mensaje deFacebook. En cualquier caso,fue un honorpara mí que teníala oportunidad dedesfilary participar en laalegria que es el candombe. Por eso, muchas gracias a todos.
And one more thing, I ate cookies tonight because I was grossed out by my skeletal frame, especially this cranium!
This is the end of the first week of my fourth month in Montevideo. I'm exhausted.
Yesterday I participated in the Pruebas para Admisión to Las Llamadas; basically, qualifying for carnival. It was finally a really warm day here, and I've got a bit of sunburn to show for it. Emotions were also a bit more heated with the Buceo group, as is expected with the stress of competition. The final performance felt great though, and I feel lucky to have had an opportunity to experience this part of the carnival process, especially since it was a portion I was unaware of three months ago.
The pruebas offered a nice close to the first part of my investigation, which was to familiarize myself with the drumming. I've said it before, but I don't believe I'd have an ear for this at all if it wasn't for the performance opportunities I've had in Buceo.
Now, ready or not, I must begin formal interviews. I spent most of the last week creating and revising questions, and will this week begin sending out requests.
And as for everything else...
I'm definitely learning a lot about myself. For one, I'm an introvert. Small talk is something I've never been good at in English, so imagine the problems I'm having in Spanish. Part of the exhaustion I feel is simply from constantly being out of my comfort zone. But I am opening up, for instance, there aren't any worries now about the single kiss greeting, it's a part of life here.
I also worry a great deal about returning to the States. This would be easier to ignore if it weren't for the small talk. Everyone wants to know where I'll be living and what I'll be doing. They don't understand when my response is "I don't know."
I do know that I miss being an active participant in a lot of different music. I miss having instruments just laying around. Here I'm mostly an observer, even in the instances of active participation. There are days when I just want to push the research aside and fully enjoy the moment, but my inexperience with fieldwork keeps me constantly on edge, analyzing my actions.
I am thinking that summer will offer opportunities to put the work aside. Plus, I don't just think it's my imagination when I say Montevideo seems happier as the weather warms.
