RockOm

An interview with Airto Moreira
By Tom Crenshaw, tom@RockOm.net

Airto Moreira is one of the most endearing and influential percussionists in the world today. Born in South Brazil he began playing percussion even before he could walk. By the time he was six years old Airto had won many music contests by singing and playing percussion. He moved to Sao Paulo at the age of sixteen and performed regularly in nightclubs and television as a percussionist, drummer and singer.

In 1965 he met the singer Flora Purim in Rio de Janeiro. Flora moved to the USA in 1967 with Airto following shortly after and began playing with musicians such as Reggie Workman, JJ Johnson, Cedar Walton and bassist Walter Booker. It was through Booker that Airto began playing with the greats - Cannonball Adderley, Lee Morgan, Paul Desmond and Joe Zawinul to name a few.

Mr. Moreira's impact in the drumming world has been so powerful that Downbeat Magazine added the category of Percussion to its readers' and critics' polls in 1973 because of his work. Airto has gone on to win this award over twenty times since then. In the past few years he was been voted the number one percussionist by Jazz Times, Modern Drummer, Drum Magazine, Jazzizz Magazine, Jazz Central Station's Global Jazz Poll on the Internet, as well as in many European, Latin American and Asian publications.

Airto Moreira has been advancing the cause of world and percussion music as a member of the Planet Drum percussion ensemble alongside The Grateful Dead drummer Mickey Heart, master conga player Giovanni Hidalgo, tabla virtuoso Zakir Hussain, Flora Purim, Babatunde Olatunji, Sikiru Adepoju and Vikku Vinayakram. Airto has contributed to two Grammy Award-winning projects, the album Planet Drum, which won in 1991 in the World Music category, as well as his work with the Dizzy Gillespie's United Nations Orchestra, which received the award for Best Live Jazz Album.

In September of 2002, Brazil's President Fernando Henrique Cardoso named Airto Moreira and Flora Purim to the Order of Rio Branco, one of Brazil's highest honors. The Order of Rio Branco was created in 1963 to formally recognize Brazilian and foreign individuals who have significantly contributed to the promotion of Brazil's international relations.

Also, Airto was a professor for three years at the Ethnomusicology department of UCLA and broke new ground in musical concepts and creative energy.

Currently he divides his time between recording studios, workshops and clinics, and creating new projects as well as researching new materials for future releases and live performances in the US, Europe, Asia and Latin America.

Airto's latest album is Life After That and was released on Narada Records.

Airto: No, not really. It probably has nothing to do with the music. There was no music. My parents didn't sing, dance, or play. [Laughs] My father was a spiritist. He, along with about 10 other mediums, would sit around a table and get in touch with the spirits and the spiritual world. They would talk to the spirits and solve problems for people. The medium, acting as a bridge between the spirit and material world, would talk with the spirit of the person and straighten a lot of things up because there's a lot of people who [after they die] feel good about their [past] lives, but most of us, we don’t. We feel like we wasted a lot of time in our life. We feel, "I shouldn’t have done that," or "maybe I should have done this instead of that." We keep those problems and other problems after life. When I say "after life," I mean after our material life. As spirits, we are immortals. We never die; we just spend some time around the spiritual world (which is actually right here) and is the universe. It's God's universe that he is creating. We might have to come back here to solve some problems we left and to learn to do other things and so on.

When I was about five years old I used to watch my father. We weren't supposed to watch but we watched anyway. [Laughs] I saw my father many times writing prescriptions for people. Some of the things he used to prescribe for others to take were from nature, from the forest. Other things he would write were to be taken from a pharmacy. He used to work with a spirit of a deceased doctor who had died 20 years earlier. My father was illiterate. He couldn't read or write but I saw him writing many times. Later on in his life he had diabetes and he lost his vision and was a blind man for about the last 10 years of his life. But he was completely happy! It was really beautiful to see that - the spiritual part of my family.

My sister does a lot of what my father used to do. She learned a lot from him. She is beautiful and happy as well. When others see her they say, "Wow, she is so nice!"

Now talking about death and music, I am in some ways a medium. I also make the bridge between the spiritual and material world. When I play, I do that. The musicians who play with me - including my wife, Flora [Purim] - they know when that comes on me and it's just a beautiful thing. We are helped by the spirits. The music becomes high as far as energy. It doesn't have to be a very fast kind of rhythm. Whatever we do is really rich in energy - universal energy that keeps all the planets and stars together and balanced. This energy is around us too; it's the primal energy that God uses to create the universe. The more you study the more you know. It's not a complicated thing; it's basic, really. I feel the energy when I change, when I am playing something and right at the beginning when it actually happens. I open up for whatever energy is there and then something happens; it clicks and the whole band knows. We look at each other, laugh and smile and we keep playing. It's a beautiful thing, man.

Tom: It seems you were bound for great things as a musician from early on. You had your own radio program in your home city as a preteen and then at 13 you began drumming and singing in local dance bands. Where did this drive, this passion for music come from?

Airto: I don’t know because we didn't have that many musicians in our family. My mother's side of the family was from Italy. I always loved music and I started playing some percussion instruments that my grandmother gave to me and that was it. I just kept playing. My mom gave me other percussion instruments and I just kept playing. This is what I do today; I keep doing the same thing that I use to do when I was a little kid. Now I have a lot of knowledge about different kinds of music - commercial, non-commercial, playing for money or not. Thank God I don't have to play for money. I did when I was younger but if the music wasn't good, if I didn't like it, I didn't play.

Tom: Your wife Flora moved to the USA in 1967 and you followed soon thereafter. Was that a move you intended to make no matter what or were you waiting to see what Flora discovered as far as the music scene was concerned before you decided to leave?

Airto: I had a plan, you see. I was in love with Flora. Really in love with Flora, mainly because she was a fine human being and she had a good education. She was from a family in Rio and I was from a family in South Brazil and we were very poor in our little village. When I met Flora I had never met a woman like her before. She was incredible! She was like a princess. She liked me and we started taking. It was like “Wow.” In the beginning the only thing I would talk to her about would be music. [Laughs] We used to talk a lot about music; she was a singer already. I was thinking this is something very, very special - this is incredible. I couldn’t believe it. We stayed together two years and she decided to go to the States and spend some time there, meet some people, say hello to her friends from Rio who were already there like Sivuca [Dias de Oliveira] who played accordion and was musical director for Miriam Makeba (a great African singer) and Sérgio Mendes. She told me, "I'm going to go and try and sing for a while. I'm really not sure what is going to happen." I said, "Well, I can't go right now. I’m playing with this great band, the New Quartet, and we're successful." I told her I was sorry but I couldn't go.

She went anyway, so we would write to each other. Sometimes we would talk on the phone, but we would write every day. I was so much in love with this woman that I decided to go to California, stay for a couple of weeks, and then bring her back to Brazil. So, I went - and here I am! I'm not in Brazil. [Laughs] Of course, we went back to Brazil often. I don't like the word "career" because I think music is much more than career - music is a lifetime commitment.

Tom: Who were the first musicians you met upon arriving in the states?

Airto: I met Moacir Santos, who was a master teacher from Brazil and a great arranger and tenor saxophonist. I did some gigs with him and studied with him, but not enough. I never really liked study. Unfortunately I can't read music. I started playing in LA with some Brazilian bands and then Flora was invited to go New York to sing with Miriam Makeba.  A few days after Flora went to New York, I followed her there and we lived in New York for almost nine years.

It was in New York that I met everybody. I met Cannonball Adderley and we liked each other so much, even though we didn't understand each other. I was speaking Portuguese and he was speaking English. He was our mentor and sponsor in the states and signed our working papers and told his manager, "I want Airto and Flora here legally." I started playing with Cannonball, Lee Morgan and Paul Desmond. Then everything started to happen.

Two and a half years later I met Miles Davis. I met Miles through Joe Zawinul, who was very close friends with Miles.  One day Miles said to Joe, "Joe, I’m recording this album - a new kind of music. It’s more electric. I need a percussionist that plays something different." Joe said to Miles, "Well I know somebody that I met at Walter Booker's house." Miles asked Joe what kind of person I was - if I was old, young, or what. Joe told Miles, "He's kind of young, but he has some incredible percussion instruments that no one's seen before. He plays them all, plays jazz, bossa nova, samba; he plays anything. He's able to hear something and just play it." So, I started playing with Miles and recorded Bitches Brew with him.

Tom: Did you believe Bitches Brew was going to be the phenomenon it became?

Airto: No. I knew practically nothing. It was all like a dream to me, a movie that I was in. Everything was happening and I didn't speak English. I came to understand English better soon after. The first three years was like I was on an acid trip and being in a crazy movie. It was a very strange feeling; I was not afraid at all. It was like I knew these musicians for a long time and we were just going to play some music - that was it. All the other musicians warned me about Miles and said, "Listen, Miles can be real nasty but go and play with him. He's going to like you. But never get into any kind of negative stuff with him because he likes to play with you and try and scare you." I was careful in that area. I had two and a half years with Miles. One of the greatest experiences in my life.

Tom: The sidemen on Bitches Brew were extraordinary: Wayne Shorter, Dave Holland, Jack DeJohnette, and Chick Corea.

Airto: Yeah, I played for probably a year and a half with those guys. Then Miles started changing the sound. He wanted to get into the "funk/wah-wah" thing. He loved Jimi Hendrix actually. They were going to do an album together. Gil Evans was going to write the arrangements but it never happened because Jimi died. Yeah, we used to go down to the Village in New York with Miles, into Jimi Hendrix's Electric Lady Studios and jam there. Miles would be talking with Jimi about the wah-wah pedal; He was crazy about it. He wanted to use it with the trumpet.

Tom: Following your stint with Miles Davis, you jumped right into Weather Report with Wayne Shorter, Joe Zawinul, Miroslav Vitous and Alphonse Mouzon.

Airto: Actually it was during my time with Miles. I was still playing with Miles when Joe Zawinul invited me to form the band. Joe said, "This is going to be the best group in the world. You’re going to play with us." But I told him, "I'm still playing with Miles. Some people are leaving the band and I think Miles needs me." Joe said, "No, Miles doesn't need anybody. Come and play with us." It wasn't that I was skeptical about Weather Report, I just didn't want to leave Miles' band. I wanted to go into that change with him and give him my sounds and soul. I never went on the road with Weather Report. I recorded with them and I played one concert at CBS for the release of our first album on CBS Records. I told Joe after that concert that I was not going to leave Miles.

Tom: In our interview with your wife, Flora gave us her thoughts of Chick Corea and Return to Forever. I want to hear from you about your experience with Chick and Return To Forever. You all pretty much made history in this band.

Airto: Chick had a drummer before me. But he asked Flora to ask me to come in on the next rehearsal they had so I could show some patterns to his drummer and I said, "Sure." I met them all, met the drummer and showed him some stuff. The drummer asked me to take a break with him, go next door to a bar and have a drink. When we got next door he said to me, "Do you want to play this gig with Chick?" I said, "Yeah, I want to play drums for Chick but you're already playing with him." "I’m a jazz drummer; I don’t want to play this gig," he said. I told him, "Well, we have to talk with Chick because he never really invited me to play with him." So we went back to the practice and the drummer said to Chick, "Chick, Airto and I were just talking and you've got a new drummer." [Laughs]

Tom: When we interviewed Mickey Hart and spoke with him about the Planet Drum album and his intention in recording it he said he realized on day he was "sitting on top of the mountain" with regards to his percussion friends. You and Flora joined him on the Planet Drum album and were in fact co-producers, along with the other musicians performing on the album. What are your thoughts on how this all came to be?

Airto: Flora and I met Mickey Hart with the Grateful Dead. We went to see the Dead one time at the Oakland Coliseum just to see what everyone was talking about with this band. That was some "down to earth" music: singing, playing and tripping. It was a big party with thousands of people! Flora and I went backstage after the concert and they were like, "Oh, Airto and Flora!" They invited us to perform with them the next two nights, to jam with them. Ornette Coleman was sitting in with them, playing this crazy stuff on saxophone. Flora picked up a microphone and started singing with Ornette Coleman, doing free-form stuff, really beautiful stuff. That's how we met Mickey. Mickey then called me and Flora to play on the Apocalypse Now soundtrack and we worked in the Dead’s studio in Marin County for six days and nights straight.

Tom: Was this the first time you had worked with Zakir Hussain?

Airto: Yes. [Pause] Maybe I played with him in the Rhythm Devils. I wasn't a part of that group; I just sat in with them. Apocalypse Now was the first time we collaborated and it was just beautiful. Zakir is one of the most incredible players on earth.

Tom: We agree, but I must add that when we spoke with Zakir Hussain last year in San Anselmo one of the first things he spoke about was Bitches Brew and how that was so inspirational to him and everyone, and how it changed everything. He was taken with your work as well.

Airto: Zakir told me he was a classical percussionist playing classical Hindu music, and that's what he did. Then he saw me play with Miles Davis and said, "Wow, I can do that too. I can play some other stuff." Zakir can do anything, really. He's an incredible musician. Then Zakir started opening up, playing with different people. He's one of the most respected musicians in the world.

Tom: Tell me about your album The Other Side of This, from 1988. It was an exploration into the healing powers of music and the spiritual world.

Airto: I always have ideas for sound. I have a lot of ideas for things I haven't played yet. I am young; I'm only 67. [Laughs] Some of the sounds I had been thinking about for many years were sounds for healing, for relaxing and for energy. I never really thought of myself as a shaman to be working with spirits. Spirits are free to come and visit when I am playing and each day when I jump in, they are welcome.

One day when were working on Planet Drum with Mickey and all the great percussionists who performed on that album I said to Mickey, "Remember that project that we talked about of co-producing, that healing music album?" He was about to head out of town and said, "Why don't you start it while I'm gone." So, I stayed in the studio and did about half of the album in five days. When Mickey returned we began rehearsing Planet Drum again and he asked, "Well what have you been doing while I've been gone?" So I had the engineer play the recordings in the studio and Mickey said, "What? What is this?" I said, "That's our project that you are producing." [Laughs] He said, "Oh, you bet I am! Let's keep working on this!" So we would rehearse Planet Drum in the day and then work on The Other Side of This until the early mornings.

Tom: How do you see music and especially percussion evolving in the near future?

Airto: Percussion was probably the first ever instrument. People would play and not even know they were making music. I think it is always going to be a part of humanity. Right now there's a lot of synthesized music and percussion, but at the same time there are percussionists and drummers such as Mickey Hart, Zakir Hussain, myself and others who are playing all over the world. There is space for acoustic percussion, for the real thing. It will never die. I think that percussion will always grow together with the music. It doesn't matter what kind of music it is because the percussion will always be there. Percussion evolves with the music and with the human race. One doesn't need to be a professional - you can go and play some with the guys and it's OK. Percussion started the music, in the beginning. Percussion is a beautiful exchange, a melting pot. It will always exist and if they keep sampling, they're going to be sampling forever.

LINKS: www.airto.com

An Interview with Brazilian Jazz legend Flora Purim
By Tom Crenshaw, tom@rockom.net

For those who know Flora, an introduction is unnecessary. Her music has interwoven the life fabric of anyone with a passing interest in Latin and American jazz music for over 25 years.

Flora's once-in-a-generation six-octave voice has earned her two Grammy nominations for Best Female Jazz Performance and Downbeat Magazine's Best Female Singer accolade on four occasions. Her musical partners have included Gil Evans, Stan Getz, Chick Corea, Dizzy Gillespie and her husband Airto Moreira, with whom she has collaborated on over 30 albums since moving with him from her native Rio to New York in 1967. In New York, she and Airto became central to the period of musical expression and creativity which produced the first commercially successful electric jazz groups of the 70s.

Shortly after, Flora became instrumental in opening the world up to new notions of what jazz can sound like by linking up with Chick Corea, Stanley Clarke and Joe Farrell to form Return To Forever in late 1971. She went on to contribute to some of the greatest recordings of the seventies - Carlos Santana, Hermeto Pascoal, Gil Evans, Chick Corea and Mickey Hart - with all benefiting from her vocal and arranging skills. In the mid-Eighties, Flora and Airto resumed their musical partnership to record two albums for Concord - Humble People and The Magicians - for which she received Grammy nominations. In 1992 she went one better by singing on two Grammy-winning albums - Planet Drum with Grateful Dead drummer Mickey Hart (Best World Music Album) and the Dizzy Gillespie United Nations Orchestra (Best Jazz Album).

In September of 2002, Brazil's President Fernando Henrique Cardoso named Flora Purim and Airto Moreira to the "Order of Rio Branco", one of Brazil's highest honors. Her latest album, Flora's Song, was released by Narada Records on June 28th, 2005.

RockOm had the honor and privilege to spend an extended period of time with Flora Purim recently while she was in Lisbon, Portugal touring with her husband. In this in-depth interview Flora Purim speaks with us regarding her early years in America, her close association with the greats in jazz music, how music transcends race, creed, and culture and an upcoming movie and book based on her life and career.

Tom:  Tell us what you, your family and friends felt on that March evening in 1964 when the Brazilian military staged a coup overthrowing President Goulart sending Brazil into a totalitarian regime. There was widespread systematic repression of artistic freedom and free speech. Did this play a role in your decision to become an artist and do you ever regret leaving Brazil for America?

Flora:  Sure I regret leaving Brazil because it is a paradise and the outpouring of Brazilian music is so big that wherever I go, all over the world there is always a group playing Brazilian music. I am very proud to be Brazilian, but Brazil was a military dictatorship and the Government was censoring the lyrics of music and songs. I was only 20 years old and in the beginning of my career then. I felt if I didn’t leave the country I couldn't be a singer. I made the decision and since I loved jazz, I decided to go to the USA.

Tom:  When you arrived in New York City in 1967, you immediately jumped into the American jazz scene with the artists of the day such as Thelonious Monk and Miles Davis. Then a few short years later you met Chick Corea, Stan Getz, Gil Evans, Stanley Clarke, Joe Farrell and others. What did you think when you landed in New York and were able to be yourself and express yourself in the midst of such an eclectic music scene?

Flora: I thought I had died and was in paradise. I didn't know how I was going to find other musicians. I asked around at the hotel where I was staying in New York and was told I shouldn't be going into the heart of Harlem because I was white and it was a dangerous place to go. I said, "Well I come from Brazil and we don't discriminate, so I'm going to take my chance. I must go to Harlem; I have to go." So the concierge wrote an address on a piece of paper and I was dropped off at Club Baron.

I tried to pay my ticket to get in but the doorman started to speak to me and I didn't understand what he was saying. He was laughing, making jokes and wasn't going to sell me a ticket. The only thing I understood was that he called me Snow White. In the meantime, a very tall man was standing in the entranceway going from one side of the bar to the other. He saw the scene, reprimanded the man and he gave me his big hand and told me not to be afraid and to sit down with his lady. He invited me inside and I sat down with a white lady. She was very popular inside of the club. Everyone was arriving and kissing her hand and kissing her on the cheek. Later on, I found out she was a famous Baroness - Baroness Nika. She used to help Coltrane and Charlie Parker when they got sick. She was so loved by everyone because she had no prejudice and loved jazz to the point that she would offer space in her house when musicians got sick from time to time.

Then, when I finally sat down and felt more at ease I looked over at the bar and saw Wayne Shorter sitting there along with Art Blakey, Carmen McRae, Richard Davis, and Mongo Santamaria. I saw the creme of the creme all together in the same place. After Mongo Santamaria played his set - in which Chick Corea was the pianist - the second band came in. I didn't know what Thelonious Monk looked like. He was the guy that helped me get into the club. He walked on stage, sat down at the piano and played. I realized I was the luckiest person in the world. The second day in town I found the place where everyone converged after their gigs, talked with each other and jammed. Afterward, we all went to the house of bass player Walter Booker and played more until the early morning.

Tom: Tell me about the events leading up to meeting Chick Corea and later becoming a part of his fusion band Return to Forever.

Flora: I arrived in the US in December of '67, stayed in New York and later I got a call from an ex-boyfriend, Dom Um Romao, who  went on to perform with Weather Report and he said, "Come to California." So I flew out to California and stayed for about six months. I didn't have a work permit but I was going to the clubs. I saw Miles Davis for the first time along with Gary Barton and several of the young, up-and-coming musicians. Gary Barton was only 16 or 17 years old and he was playing free form jazz. A month afterward, my husband Airto (Moreira) arrived. We both went to see Miles Davis together. It was a dream for Airto.  Something happened to him when he first saw Miles.

I received an invitation from the drummer who was performing with South African singer Miriam Makeba who was singing Brazilian music. She had a choir behind her of three or four girls trying to sing in Portuguese. I went back to New York and was hired by Miriam Makeba to be a backup singer and help the girls learn to pronounce the lyrics correctly. Afterward, I sang two concerts with Miriam and she called me up and said, "You are too good to be just a background singer. I’m going to give you the name of my manager. Please look him up. I’m calling him to say I’m sending  you." Miriam's manger took me in and got me a record deal. I signed with the label that was owned by the comedian Bill Cosby. After the record was recorded and was about to be pressed and released the warehouse caught fire. My work was burned and that record never came out. It was a shock. I thought to myself, "It is not my time yet."

I stayed in New York and continued hanging out at the clubs. In the Village there were a lot of jazz clubs with great musicians and I always managed to get in for free.  I met Chick Corea then. At that time, Chick was playing for Miles Davis and Miles was looking to change the band. Joe Zawinul told Miles there was a Brazilian percussionist who was crazy and that he should check him out. Airto then received a call from Miles' manager. I'll let Airto tell you the rest in his own words and then I’ll tell you how it really was. [Laughs]

Later Chick decided to leave Miles and form a group with Dave Holland, Anthony Blackstone, and Barry Altschul [the group Circle]. They were just playing free form and Chick wanted his music to be more popular. He said that people loved the music but it was hard to duplicate the melodies they heard. He became obsessed to have his music sung and duplicated. He was looking for a person to sing his melodies, because if a person could sing melodies the public would understand that they could sing it too. He offered the music to Ella Fitzgerald and several others vocalists. The vocalists returned the music saying they were already well established on the Bebop jazz scene and didn’t want to take a risk of singing fusion because the music was not mainstream. It was fused with different rhythms.

I met Chick at Walter Booker's apartment after a concert. He asked me to come to his home and try some of his music because he was dying to hear someone sing some of his melodies. I said, "Yes, of course." The next day I went to Chick’s home and the first song he played for me was "What Game Shall We Play Today", and then others. I was overwhelmed with the beauty of the music and couldn’t believe I was having a chance to hear it first hand. So he asked me if I would like to sing those songs with him and to be part of the group that he was forming. He met a very young bass player just out of high School who was 17 years old. His name was Stanley Clarke. He invited flutist-saxophonist  Joe Farrell to join as well. Chick asked me to ask Airto to sit in until he found a drummer so we could keep rehearsing. Airto wasn't doing anything since Miles was taking a break, so I brought Airto in and Chick loved him so much that he decided not to look for another drummer.

"Music has no prejudices. Music does not ask you what color you are, where you come from or what your creed is. Music itself becomes God to us whenever we play it."

It was like magic. Sometimes you put five musicians together and they are great, but the magic doesn't happen. But this time it all melded together and became one. We were very excited to be playing and singing original music written especially for us. From that point on Chick wrote more and more and the music aimed at my voice or Stanley’s bass or Airto’s drumming or Joe Farrell’s flute and saxophone. The first album was called Return to Forever and the second was called Light as a Feather, which happens to contain a composition by Stanley Clark and me.

These two albums defined Return To Forever and in America we were not sure if they accepted us or not. But when we arrived in Japan or anywhere else around the world we were so famous we need a police escort. So many people were waiting at the airports screaming and giving us gifts. From that point on I understood there were certain prejudices and maybe the musicians that were dedicated to swing, mainstream, and Bebop were guardians of that style of music, which prevailed at the time. They were not giving in even if our music was nice. The rest of the world embraced Chick’s music. Some first started listening to jazz after Return To Forever and then started looking for other records that we were involved in as well and learning more and more about the other forms of jazz. You were right about one thing - because of my association with Chick Corea I became very, very popular all over the world.

Tom: In 1973 you released your first solo album, Butterfly Dreams, and went on to work with Carlos Santana on his album Welcome (1973) which also featured John McLaughlin, Tom Coster, Leon Thomas and John Coltrane's widow, Alice. Tell us about the vibe in the air working on that album.

Flora: Well Carlos was incredible. We were playing at the Keystone Korner in San Francisco and one night Carlos walked in for the second show. I saw him come in but I had never met him before. After the show he said he was recording that night and invited us to come to Columbia Studios. He played some of the songs for us and asked if we could do something to enhance the songs. He offered me two songs and Airto worked on another two or three songs. The next week he had a concert at the Museum of Modern Art and I sat in with the band. A very famous writer Ralph Gleason wrote a review of the show and said I was great and raved about me. The next day I got a call from Fantasy Records and they invited me to sign a contract with them.

Tom: You were involved as a co-producer along with Mickey Hart and your husband Airto on the 1992 Grammy Award winning Planet Drum album. In speaking with Mickey Hart and Zakir Hussain they both spoke about the spiritual nature and healing qualities in music. Do you feel the same way? Does rhythm and music have unifying and healing properties?

Flora: I would say yes. When Mickey Hart’s wife was about to have a baby and was in labor for hours nothing would help. Mickey put on a track from Planet Drum and she relaxed and gave birth right away. I also learned from Babatunji Olantundi that drums are not made from just any tree. In Nigeria, to cut the tree to make a drum you have to talk to that tree for months and get an affinity and have the tree recognize you - even tell stories to the tree. You and the tree become friends. So when the time comes to make a drum from that tree, the tree is ready and understands it’s not going to stop "being nature", that it would actually be helping the world to know that the first language between men was drumming.

Tom: Through your close friendship with Dizzy Gillespie, who was a devotee of the Bahá'í faith, you came to adopt that faith. How has Bahá'í influence you?

Flora: Bahá'í was a young religion when I met Dizzy. Dizzy used to carry his praying book, which was different than everyone else's.  All the pages were embossed in gold and his name was written on the front in gold. I used to sit next to him in first class, so once I asked him, "You are always reading this book. What is so good about it." He said, "This book is my Bible and I know every single prayer by memory."  I challenged him and he said, "OK, I’ll give you the book and you can open it to any page and ask me." I took the book, opened it to one page, and by chance it was the Prayer of the Traveler. He said, "Which one out of the five?" I chose, thinking it would be difficult for him. He recited the prayer fluently. I thought  to myself "He’s lucky, the Prayer of the Traveler is one he must read most often." I opened up another page, I challenged him again, and he recited the prayer perfectly. He read that book for 30 years every day. He read to remind himself that men should help other men, that a universal language should be created so that people could communicate and that women should be treated equal to men.

I told Dizzy, "I want to be a Bahá'í." He said, "You can’t be a Bahá'í yet." I asked him why. He said, "Before you decide you want to be a Bahá'í you have to read a couple of books to see if you agree with it." I was given several books to read, loved them and said, "I still want to be a Bahá'í." So we were leaving Australia and the family that was receiving all the Bahá'í in the town ran to the airport and gave me the book of prayers, just like Dizzy's book. Inside of the book was an Australian ten-dollar bill. I said, "Wait, I think you forgot the money." The lady who gave me the book said, "No we, didn't forget. You always keep this note inside of the book because this is to bring you more money and it could save you in a difficult situation." I kept it and never spent that money.

Tom: Sometimes music brings people together in ways that nothing else can. What is it about music that bridges barriers and put us in touch with that which we call the Divine?

Flora: Music has no prejudices. Music does not ask you what color you are, where you come from or what your creed is. Music itself becomes God to us whenever we play it. As musicians we only communicate through notes and rhythms. We hardly talk with each other unless it's to give a new idea for direction. At the time we are playing it doesn't count what color you are, where you come from, or which religion you practice. I love that.

Tom: What does the future hold for you?

Flora: I have lots of work ahead of me. I've been in Portugal working with a screenwriter and with another writer to do a book of my trials and tribulations along with a film based on a Brazilian singer who wanted to sing Jazz. This project is very big, is sponsored by the Brazilian Government, and is entitled "Brazilian Flora". I am singing all Brazilian music by Brazilian musicians. Because of my popularity around the world I can bring the new Brazilian music to the rest of the world as long as I keep singing.

www.florapurim.com

Watch for an interview with Flora's husband, Airto Moreira, next week right here at RockOm.

An Interview with Mickey Hart
By Tom Crenshaw tom@rockom.net

As a child, Mickey Hart used to stand out in thunderstorms listening to the patterns and sounds of the rain as it fell. He recalls some of his neighbors saying quizzically to his parents, "That boy of yours, Mrs. Hart, he's a strange fellow!" That rhythmic inquisitiveness as a child led Mickey deeper into the mysteries of sound as he grew older, becoming one of the world’s most celebrated percussionists and authoritarians on world music and music's healing abilities.

For nearly three decades Mickey has performed on drums and percussion as part of the Grateful Dead (along with fellow drummer Bill Kreutzmann) but his accomplishments don't end there. Through his tireless study of world music Mickey has gone on to contribute more than most any other musician to the study of sound, rhythm and the incredible healing aspects contained within.

Mickey has also written four books documenting his lifelong fascination with the history and mythology of music. These include Drumming at the Edge of Magic, Planet Drum, Spirit into Sound: The Magic of Music, and Songcatchers: In Search of the World’s Music. He’s appeared before the United States Senate to discuss the healing powers of music and rhythm and is a member of the Institute for Music and Neurologic Function at Beth Abraham Hospital where he continues his investigation into the connection between healing and rhythm and the neural bases of rhythm. Mickey has also been appointed to the Board of Trustees of the American Folklife Center at the Library of Congress where he heads the subcommittee on the digitization and preservation of the Center's vast collections.

In addition, Mickey Hart has composed music for movies, television and celebrated events including Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now, the PBS special Vietnam: A Television History, and The 1996 Summer Olympic Games to mention a few.

RockOm had the extraordinary opportunity to spend some time with Mickey recently to discuss his early initiation into sound and rhythm, his role in the Grateful Dead, his various Grammy Award-winning albums of percussion and world music, and the incredible reality that there are new, healing rhythms being born into the world every day.

Mickey Hart: That all depends on what you call music and what you call drumming. I was always interested in the nature of the rain, loud sounds of the city, trolley cars – so the rhythmic tattoo of New York City first captivated me, the rhythm and the noise of things – buildings being torn down, a lawn mower – pretty much "loud stuff." I love the loud in things. The rain especially was transfixing because it came down so rhythmically. I would stand out in the rain and let it beat on me and it went deep into the subconscious and inner self. It felt really good to be out there. Those were my first thoughts of rhythm and noise.

Then of course the radio would captivate me. My mother had Folkways records tucked in the middle of a Duke Ellington collection. I started listening to pygmy rainforest music and listening to indigenous musicians as the first real turn-on to membranophones, or drums. And Latin music was really taking over at that time in New York City – Tito Puente and Machito – and that was coming out of every radio and every phonograph around the city. Before Rock N’ Roll there was Latin music which was full of syncopation and  got my ear. My dad and mom were both rudimental drummers and when my dad had left when I was an infant, he left a practice pad. That practice pad was my key into the other side. When I heard the report of the practice pad, that sealed the deal. There was nothing more beautiful than the short, sharp sound from the pad; I could listen to it over and over again. It became like my radar. That was the beginning of it all. I was a strange, unsettling boy.

RO: Tell us about meeting Babatunde Olatunji and how that impressed upon you.

Mickey Hart: Olatunji came in about 1959 much later; what I’m talking about is the early and mid-50s. But when I heard Olatunji's album Drums of Passion I had never really heard drums played at that level and I certainly had never heard a talking drum – a variable pitched instrument. Here you had the powerful trance loops of Western Africa. I mean people didn’t know that’s what they were experiencing but here you had trance rhythms played in New York City in a fine recording studio with CBS. And Baba was a great vocalist so here you had chant over these powerful, magical rhythms. So when I heard that album that sealed the deal as well as far as the power of raw percussion and voice. It changed my life, no doubt.

Then of course I was fortunate enough to run into him in 1985 and when I asked him to open up for the Grateful Dead, he didn’t know who we were. He said, “Ya, ya, ya…” and left. Someone then must have told him who I was and he called me back. We got to be friends and he opened for the Grateful Dead and the fans loved him. He became my best friend and the godfather of my daughter. So he was another major influence to me as well as to hundreds of thousands of practitioners and musicians from around the world – Coltrane knew him. All kinds of people were being sucked into this powerful rhythm snake.

RO: When did you first recognize your experience with rhythm and drumming going from beyond the ordinary into a mystical or spiritual realm?

Mickey Hart: I didn’t know what to call it when I was young but I was going into trance when I was alone. I played alone a lot and so it became a meditation and I was definitely moving in and out of trance. Looking back on it now I would play for hours and not eat. I was totally in the zone and that is a sure sign of a trance. That was unconscious. But then when I started playing in the Grateful Dead, I started really seeing the ritual unfold. It was out of control. It was a wondrous thing, going into a new soundscape that no one had ever been to. Well, I had never been to it, nor had anyone else around me. So I figure we were moving into realms of consciousness by taking psychoactive drugs simultaneously and playing for hours and hours. Again, this was a deep trance. People would just lose themselves in the groove and dance for hours and copulate and everything. It was a quite a scene. That also made a big impression on me, seeing a new ritual being born – you know, with white kids on the edge of the Western world.

Then as far as the health part of all this, I saw that music reconnected you with the infinite, vibratory universe when my grandmother had Alzheimer’s. She hadn’t spoken a word in six months and I isolated her once in the car when I taking her somewhere. I just happened to play my tar, my single-membrane tar, for her for about 20 minutes. She was looking at it and all the sudden she spoke my name and I thought, “Wow, this is powerful.” This is somebody who was disconnected from speech, who was motor-impaired saying my name. Then when I stopped, she went back into the darkness. That was a moment for me and I realized that rhythm has to do with life and the giving of life and the taking of life. When the rhythm stops, you’re dead. When the rhythm is good, you live a good life. It also can reconnect some of the connections that are broken in the brain using certain rhythms at certain volumes. It was then that rhythm therapy came into view and the music therapists started appearing. I appeared in front of the Senate in 1990 and testified on the power of rhythm in front of Harry Reid on the Committee for Aging. Harry gave me and Oliver Sacks a million bucks to kick-start music therapy here in the West.

RO: You mentioned in earlier interviews that the Grateful Dead were in the business of transportation. What was your role in transporting your fans and listeners?

Mickey Hart: I made the traps. I was in the engine room. Me and Bill Kreutzmann made that feeling that allowed you to go to those places that laid the foundation for the melody and the harmony and the song.

RO: So in a sense of the word do you and Bill Kreutzmann consider yourselves modern day shamans?

Mickey Hart: You could say that. I would say we’re more “seat-of-the-pants” kind of shamans. But we are practicing the art of shamanism for sure. We’re transporting people into other consciousness and that’s what shaman do. Yeah, we don’t have a license [laughs] but we do it!

RO: In your role of being a transporter, where are you wanting your listeners to “arrive”?

Mickey Hart: It’s certainly a state of bliss, of being centered, of happiness – where you can make sense of everything around you. That’s what consciousness is all about. Everybody has a different consciousness but the idea is to elevate the consciousness to a place where you can feel who you are and how you fit in. That’s what spirituality really is – it’s a tuning system, to tune you and the universe. Part of the universe is the people you live with, the people you love, your children, your self! If you can’t have this feeling within yourself you can’t give it to anyone else.

So it’s a constant maintenance and practice. I play every day to maintain a level that I can share with others. How do you share the precious, invisible feeling of spirit with someone? Well you have to change it into a form. In this case, it’s music; it’s vibratory. The universe is vibratory, you are vibratory, the things you create in culture are vibratory. How these rhythm worlds all work together, that’s the yoga of sound. That’s why music is such a great vehicle. It’s not really about the music, it’s what the music does to you and the feeling it creates in you and what you do with that feeling. Music is important!

If you talk to Michael Jordan, he will tell you that going to the basket and being up there for four or five seconds -- that’s God. He’s in an absolutely perfect, rhythmic entrainment with himself, the people around him and the universe. It doesn’t happen all the time; it only happens in moments. It’s not like you can tune yourself in and stay in this place forever, it’s a constant ebb and flow in and out of these wonderful states of consciousness. But if you don’t go for these moments, then you’re just in the music business and I never thought of myself in the music business. It wasn’t about that. When I went after a groove and the music, it wasn’t necessarily to entertain. When I get lost in it, it might not even be interesting on some levels, it may be self-serving. But I’m trying to create some kind of a feeling that’s relevant to the moment.

You can’t really judge these things in those terms of good or bad, you have to judge them in other ways such as what do they do? Are they positive? Are they negative? Like love, compassion, all those good things are positive. War, hate, racism, murder, people who take more than they give – that’s bad rhythm. Health is good rhythm. Disease means you’re out of rhythm. I’m sure all musicians want to play technically good and so do I, but I try to separate the ritual from the technical. You have to be technically good to create good ritual. These are very gray lines – one person’s spirit is another person’s non-spirit. So this is a very individual thing.

RO: You’ve been exposed to a wide variety of spiritual influences from that found in Indian and African music, to Tibetan monks, to the shamanistic spirituality of Carlos Santana to the mythological and bigger picture spirituality of Joseph Campbell. How would you describe your current spiritual worldview.

Mickey Hart: Well I know who my God is. If there is a Creator, it’s a rhythm. In the vibratory universe, the seed sound is the creation of everything. And in that sound, in that rhythm, you find what some people would call spirituality or the sacred dimension. There was nobody up there that said, “make this [life] happen.” This came out an arrhythmic event 10 billion years ago like I write about in the books. Now I’m really starting to really study the planet and listening to what they say through radio telescopes – making music with the universe. It’s led me back to the seed sound and that’s what I’m exploring now – dealing with the fabric of the universe and how to make contact with it and interact with it intelligently.

RO: Last year we spoke with your friend Zakir Hussain and he went into some details about rituals and cleansing before performing. You say you practice every day to stay in shape, is there anything ritualistic or ceremonial in regards to your warm-ups or preparations to perform that you’d be willing to share with us?

Mickey Hart: Sure. I always feel my heartbeat. I work out in the morning doing my cardio routine and then on the way to the studio (which I go to everyday) I start focusing on me and my heart beat, my rate. Even when I’m walking I feel the pulse. That gives me a place to start. Like as I’m talking to you now, I’m feeling my pulse. It’s something that I refer to from time to time. I always try to start there. I warm up a lot for long periods of time before I actually commit to the drum. I prepare myself and warm up really slow and long. I like taking an hour and half in my warm-up before I really go after a drum.

RO: Let’s talk about 1991’s Planet Drum CD where you convened some the world’s finest percussionists and musicians together. What were your intentions in gathering these particular artists to record that groundbreaking album?

Mickey Hart: I knew them all individually but they didn’t know each other. One night in the middle of the night I popped up and realized that I’m sitting on top of the mountain here. This is the Promised Land. I made the calls and one by one I introduced them to each other. They all showed up, turned on the microphones and let it all pour out. It was certainly musical magic. All the tracks were first takes, one person started playing and the next person related to it. I told them the mission was that we weren’t going for solos, we were going for the deep drumming groove and to entrain. They all could relate to that and that was history. That was really percussive history.

RO: Was it surprising the response the CD received?

Mickey Hart: Not in my world! [laughs] I thought everything we did could sell a million records. No… yes, of course it was. Winning the Grammy and being 26 weeks at #1 and touring and selling hundreds of thousands of CDs was gratifying. It also elevated percussion into a whole new realm where it was respected as an instrument equal to melody and harmony. It was musical.

RO: So you repeated it again this year with your Grammy for Global Drum Project?

Mickey Hart: Yeah, we did it again this year and now we’re working on a new one. That’s what I’ll be doing as soon as finish this interview.

RO: Earlier this year the Tibetan Chants for World Peace album you produced with the Gyoto Monks Tantric Choir was at the top of the Amazon and iTunes charts…

Mickey Hart: [laughs] Yeah, can you imagine that! I thought when that happened, I had seen everything. Here we’ve got a choir of monks from Tibet singing three notes each that is on the top of the charts. I never thought I’d live to see this. It made my day!

RO: What did that experience teach you, bringing the monks into the studio?

Mickey Hart: Well I’ve been doing it since 1987 and it’s rewarding beyond words, sitting there letting the chants wash over you. I think it’s very self-serving on my part. In some ways isolating them and listening to them for hours, having the privilege of being with these wonderful people, turns you into a speck of dust. It puts you in your proper perspective in the universe and is always a thrill. But this one was over the top because they allowed me to overdub themselves on themselves. We created a choir of over 110 or 120 voices. That hasn’t been heard outside the monasteries of Tibet since the 50s because there aren’t that many chanting monks now and they don’t do these giant rituals in Dharamsala, where most of them reside. Any day listening to the chants of the Gyoto Tantric Choir is a good day for me.

RO: Do you believe there’s still music and rhythms on the planet that we haven’t been made aware of yet?

Mickey Hart: There are rhythms being born as we speak - new rhythms being born in places we know of and places we don’t know of. That’s the way of music. That’s the way of things – they either grow and become relevant and serve the community or they die. Yes, there are new rhythms being born constantly and they’re mutations actually. Almost all music on this planet is a mutation or hybrid of something else that came before.

RO: What’s next for you, Mickey?

Mickey Hart: I’m after the sound of the universe, that’s where I’m going now.

www.mickeyhart.net

www.facebook.com/mickeyhart

Special thanks to Rose Soloman and Dennis McNally

Mickey Hart photo by John Werner

The following is a song review of the 1974 "Angel of Air / Angel of Water" by Carlos Santana and Alice Coltrane. It was written by Walter Kolosky for jazz.com and is reprinted here at RockOm.net for your enjoyment with permission by jazz.com.

Track: Angel of Air / Angel of Water
Artist: Carlos Santana (guitar) and Alice Coltrane (harp)
CD: Illuminations (Columbia 483810 2)

At the time of this recording, Carlos Santana was using the spiritual name Devadip, given to him by his personal guru Sri Chinmoy. Alice Coltrane, John's widow, was also a seeker with a guru of her own. She changed her name to Turiyasangitananda. She later used a shorter version as a first name. Officially, the artists named on this album were Devadip Carlos Santana and Turiya Alice Coltrane.

In the 1970s, Santana's admiration for John Coltrane knew no bounds. This respect went beyond the music. Santana was, as many were in those days, "trying to find himself." Coltrane's spiritual path was of great interest to him. It is not so surprising that one day he would play music with someone who had a connection to the man, the music and the spirit.

Alice Coltrane played piano in her husband's last band. The avant-garde music Coltrane was playing toward the end of his life was very much in her bag. Some angry Coltrane fans blamed her for influencing this last and least popular direction. She responded by suggesting that nobody led John Coltrane anywhere, and that she was playing what he asked her to play.

Jules Broussard's deeply somber flute opens "Angel of Air / Angel of Water," which consists of two parts that can be clearly distinguished. "Angel of Air" is more expressive. "Angel of Water" tends to be more pensive and cleansing. Alice Coltrane is responsible for the impressive string arrangement, providing a wide swath for Santana to do his best fusion ballad playing. Short, beautiful melodies are interspersed with Santana's trademark sustained single notes that must be written off the page because they are so long. It is interesting how these notes can sound so Latin when Santana plays pop music and so otherworldly cosmic when he plays the hymnal-like fusion heard here. Coltrane's harp appears mid-tune. Her playing provides more color than splash, but in context delivers an angelic message.

The orchestral ambience, spiritual overtones, collaborative success and the fusion-guitar anthem make this one of the more fulfilling jazz-rock performances of Santana's career. For some reason, it remains among his lesser-known accomplishments.

Jazz.com rating: 92/100

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