First published in Songlines Magazine issue 174, January/February 2022.
Tonga Boys feat. Doctor Kanuska Group
Umoyo wa Muthempire (Live in the Temple)
1000HZ Records (50 mins)
For those in the Malawian countryside, the Tonga Boys from Mzuzu are a band from the big city and the group’s arrival to perform at Doctor Kanuska’s traditional temple caused a stir. There, the urban DIY sounds of the Tonga Boys met the singers and dancers of the temple’s congregation for a night of deep vimbuza (spirit possession healing music) mixed in with malipenga (military music from the Tonga Boy’s homeland of Nkhata Bay) and even a couple of stripped-back dancehall numbers.
There are real field recording vibes from this album. The way the sound bounces around the room, the gentle bubble of chatter and the excited electricity of this one-of-a-kind performance all strongly evoke a sense of place. It feels like you’re there and the intensity of the event is palpable.
In the temple, the music was all voice and percussion, but Polish producer Piotr Dang Cichocki adds an extra layer. The production elements – synthed bass and drums, samples – are surprisingly subtle for the size of their sound, often blending seamlessly into the percussion density and adding a complementary boom to the ngoma drums to ensure those transcendental chest cavity reverberations.
This is a unique mix of urban-rural, folk-dance-religious-party music with an acid twang. To be there live must have been unforgettable; this album is the next best thing.
This blog is a compendium of my music writing throughout the years. I try to post updates about a month after first publication, but I'm often very behind - please bear with me!
Showing posts with label Poland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poland. Show all posts
Friday, 17 December 2021
Friday, 3 September 2021
My Instrument: Aga Ujma and her Sasando
First published in Songlines Magazine issue 171, October 2021.
The sasando is a rare instrument. It hails from the small Indonesian island of Rote, but it’s little-heard within Indonesia, and almost entirely unknown internationally. Although it looks a little like a short, squat harp, the sasando is a tube zither, its strings arranged in a full circle around a thick bamboo stem. In fact, it’s remarkably similar in sight and sound to its not-so-distant Austronesian cousin, the valiha from Madagascar.
The sasando’s most striking feature, however – and what sets it apart from its relatives – is the giant sail that is attached to both ends of its body, giving it a distinctly maritime feel. This sail is made from the leaves of the lontar palm, and serves the function of a soundbox – the space between the parabolic sail and the strings amplifies the sound, as well as bouncing it back to the musician (very useful when some of the strings are not visible behind the bamboo tube).
Polish musician Aga Ujma was a student at the Surakarta Institute of Arts in Indonesia when she first came across the sasando while at a music festival on Bokor island. She fell in love. “When I saw the sasando on stage for the first time, I was so mesmerised by how it looked, even before I heard it,” Ujma says. “But I really loved the sound and I was so lucky, I was staying at the same hostel as the musician, Ganzer Lana. He’s the main sasando guy in Indonesia, and he became my teacher.” She spent her final months in Indonesia studying under Lana, who crafted for Ujma her very own sasando, complete with specific innovations to allow for easy touring. It uses transducers to enable amplification, and can be mounted on a stand to be played sitting on a chair rather than – as traditional – on the floor. Even the sail has been modernised: “For most sasandos, it is always open. But mine folds up. This is a new invention that it folds, to make it easier to transport.” How many other musicians can say their instrument has a giant, telescopic sail?
The sasando has existed on Rote since at least the seventh century. At that time it only had five or eight strings, made from the bamboo stem’s skin, but it now has 32, made of wound metal. Having never played an instrument like it, it took some time for Ujma to become accustomed to the sasando. “It was very painful! Sometimes you play an instrument and you just don’t get it. Every person learns in a different way, but it was so difficult for me. You basically play four different things with two hands.” Around the 360° of strings, the musician plucks a bass pattern with their left fingers, chords with their right fingers and the melody with their thumbs. “My education as a classical pianist was actually really helpful, because it reminded me a lot of playing Bach’s fugues. You have to control so many melodies with just two hands, and that’s the same with sasando.”
Now based in London, Ujma’s music has gone from strength to strength, with Indonesian music playing a vital part. On her 2021 debut EP, Songs of Innocence and Experience, she shows off an undefinable alt-folk with distinct echoes of Björk and Joanna Newsom, and an intimate connection to the sounds of the sasando. As the zither doesn’t use the standard European equal-temperament tuning system, it lends Ujma’s melodies a shimmering, mystical quality.
For an instrument with such a unique construction, an ancient past and a beautiful, unearthly sound, it is tragic that the sasando is so little recognised outside of its own small island. But with the work of Ganzer Lana in Indonesia and Aga Ujma in Europe, more and more people are getting the opportunity to discover it for themselves – from Rote to the world.
Photo: Aga Ujma plays the sasando at the Serpentine Gallery, by Holly Whitaker.
The sasando is a rare instrument. It hails from the small Indonesian island of Rote, but it’s little-heard within Indonesia, and almost entirely unknown internationally. Although it looks a little like a short, squat harp, the sasando is a tube zither, its strings arranged in a full circle around a thick bamboo stem. In fact, it’s remarkably similar in sight and sound to its not-so-distant Austronesian cousin, the valiha from Madagascar.
The sasando’s most striking feature, however – and what sets it apart from its relatives – is the giant sail that is attached to both ends of its body, giving it a distinctly maritime feel. This sail is made from the leaves of the lontar palm, and serves the function of a soundbox – the space between the parabolic sail and the strings amplifies the sound, as well as bouncing it back to the musician (very useful when some of the strings are not visible behind the bamboo tube).
Polish musician Aga Ujma was a student at the Surakarta Institute of Arts in Indonesia when she first came across the sasando while at a music festival on Bokor island. She fell in love. “When I saw the sasando on stage for the first time, I was so mesmerised by how it looked, even before I heard it,” Ujma says. “But I really loved the sound and I was so lucky, I was staying at the same hostel as the musician, Ganzer Lana. He’s the main sasando guy in Indonesia, and he became my teacher.” She spent her final months in Indonesia studying under Lana, who crafted for Ujma her very own sasando, complete with specific innovations to allow for easy touring. It uses transducers to enable amplification, and can be mounted on a stand to be played sitting on a chair rather than – as traditional – on the floor. Even the sail has been modernised: “For most sasandos, it is always open. But mine folds up. This is a new invention that it folds, to make it easier to transport.” How many other musicians can say their instrument has a giant, telescopic sail?
The sasando has existed on Rote since at least the seventh century. At that time it only had five or eight strings, made from the bamboo stem’s skin, but it now has 32, made of wound metal. Having never played an instrument like it, it took some time for Ujma to become accustomed to the sasando. “It was very painful! Sometimes you play an instrument and you just don’t get it. Every person learns in a different way, but it was so difficult for me. You basically play four different things with two hands.” Around the 360° of strings, the musician plucks a bass pattern with their left fingers, chords with their right fingers and the melody with their thumbs. “My education as a classical pianist was actually really helpful, because it reminded me a lot of playing Bach’s fugues. You have to control so many melodies with just two hands, and that’s the same with sasando.”
Now based in London, Ujma’s music has gone from strength to strength, with Indonesian music playing a vital part. On her 2021 debut EP, Songs of Innocence and Experience, she shows off an undefinable alt-folk with distinct echoes of Björk and Joanna Newsom, and an intimate connection to the sounds of the sasando. As the zither doesn’t use the standard European equal-temperament tuning system, it lends Ujma’s melodies a shimmering, mystical quality.
For an instrument with such a unique construction, an ancient past and a beautiful, unearthly sound, it is tragic that the sasando is so little recognised outside of its own small island. But with the work of Ganzer Lana in Indonesia and Aga Ujma in Europe, more and more people are getting the opportunity to discover it for themselves – from Rote to the world.
Photo: Aga Ujma plays the sasando at the Serpentine Gallery, by Holly Whitaker.
Friday, 5 April 2019
Tonga Boys - Vindodo
First published in Songlines Magazine issue 147, May 2019.
Tonga Boys
Vindodo
1000HZ (42 mins)
The first thing you’ll notice about this album is its packaging – no jewel case here! Instead, the CD comes in a sealed plastic pouch not unlike a tobacco packet, with some gnarly graphic design that would look perfectly at home in the cassette stalls in Mzuzu, Malawi.
Tonga Boys are indeed a group from Malawi, and Vindodo was made in collaboration with a trio of Polish producers. Their sound is quite akin to Congotronics: there’s a proper DIY atmosphere, all slightly distorted drums, percussion and looping, call-and-response vocals. The production is subtle – a synth drum here and there, the occasional drone, some echo. It’s tasteful and usually effective, but I feel like the album wouldn’t suffer incredibly without it.
The DIY-iness goes deep; these are obviously home recordings. That roughness can be aesthetically appropriate, but there’s a risk of it just sounding bad. Luckily, Vindodo manages to stay on the right side of that line…mostly. The ear gets used to it, and I warmed to the album the more I listened.
Everything about this album is rough and ready, but if you’re prepared and in the mood for a repetitive and darkly hypnotic listen, this is an interesting one to try.
Tonga Boys
Vindodo
1000HZ (42 mins)
The first thing you’ll notice about this album is its packaging – no jewel case here! Instead, the CD comes in a sealed plastic pouch not unlike a tobacco packet, with some gnarly graphic design that would look perfectly at home in the cassette stalls in Mzuzu, Malawi.
Tonga Boys are indeed a group from Malawi, and Vindodo was made in collaboration with a trio of Polish producers. Their sound is quite akin to Congotronics: there’s a proper DIY atmosphere, all slightly distorted drums, percussion and looping, call-and-response vocals. The production is subtle – a synth drum here and there, the occasional drone, some echo. It’s tasteful and usually effective, but I feel like the album wouldn’t suffer incredibly without it.
The DIY-iness goes deep; these are obviously home recordings. That roughness can be aesthetically appropriate, but there’s a risk of it just sounding bad. Luckily, Vindodo manages to stay on the right side of that line…mostly. The ear gets used to it, and I warmed to the album the more I listened.
Everything about this album is rough and ready, but if you’re prepared and in the mood for a repetitive and darkly hypnotic listen, this is an interesting one to try.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
