RockOm

Early today we posted an insightful interview with Christine Stevens of UpBeat Drum Circles. Now's your chance to hear the interview first-hand. Check out the newest episode of the RockOm Podcast to hear our conversation about how music bridges cultural and spiritual "differences" and to check out all this amazing group is doing in the world.

CLICK HERE to visit our Podcast page to download this and other episodes of the RockOm Podcast. Grab it for your commute and be sure to tell a friend we're here exploring the bond between music and spirituality!

By Tom Crenshaw, Tom@RockOm.net

Three melodic strings, a drumbeat and a passionate desire to connect with another can create a force that is larger than life. This immense, graceful force can be found in Christine Stevens and UpBeat Drum Circles as they travel the world, often venturing into hostile and war-torn territories to bridge cultural and spiritual barriers through music.

Music holds many keys for conflict healing and is an incredibly valuable weapon for promoting peace and reconciliation. Through music Christine Stevens has selflessly dedicated her life and resources in a mission to change the world one heartbeat and drumbeat at a time. Christine is an internationally acclaimed musician, author, music therapist and speaker as well as the founder of UpBeat Drum Circles. RockOm has made a dear friend in Christine featuring her work many times on our website.

We caught up with Christine recently to talk about bridging cultural barriers through music and instrumentation knowing she would have much to share with us on the subject. In connecting with Christine again we are introduced to the Strumstick: a three-stringed instrument whose small nature belies its capabilities. Through the Strumstick and drumming Christine has propagated goodwill, grace and peacemaking not only in Iraq but around the world as well.

Tom: In your work with Ashti Drum in Iraq, when you first are introduced to perform for a group is there an air of apprehension on either your part as a musician or those you’re meeting for the first time with regards to your being a Western musician? If so how do you make that first, all-important connection?

Christine: Well that’s a good question. "The beginning is half the whole" as they say and the first moments of a connection are crucial. A lot of preparation goes into going to Iraq. I dress according to the cultural norms; I dyed my hair, wore a hijab and prepared to meet people in their way. The first connection - what I noticed - it was all about making music and not talking at all.

More often than not, I introduce myself with drumming  and then wait and see if someone will answer you. [Laughs] What I love about the Strumstick and bringing a melodic instrument with me to Iraq to complement the drum circle program is that the Strumstick is in open tuning, like a drone. When you start to make that drone, people start to come. It’s a magnetic force for group gatherings. When you play a Strumstick it’s a call for singing and chanting. So I would play a simple open drone and often someone would just stand up and chant using Middle Eastern scales.

The idea for music for peacemaking has to do with some very important principles including inclusiveness and we get everyone to participate by handing out our rhythmic instruments. Everyone can join the beat. I love what Mickey Hart (drummer for The Dead) says, “When we drum together we create sacred space.” When we add the Strumstick and that drone - chanting and rhythm - we create a symphony of cultural sharing from the heart.

Tom: So using a Strumstick made the difficult work in bridging cultural barriers easier?

Christine: I would say that it makes it much easier because this time I had this fantastic instrument that was created by Bob McNally (he’s based in New Jersey and his information is at strumstick.com). What I love about it is that it’s three strings and no wrong notes! Anyone can play this! The biggest barrier is words, I think. As long as we’re aware of each other's culture and we’re sensitive, what is the real barrier? It’s words! With music, we can talk. We have to simplify to create that bridge for cultural connection.

The other thing I will say is that in my travels around the world with the Strumstick, everybody knows Bob Marley and you can play Bob Marley tunes on this real easily. According to the Dalai Lama, what we need to do to create peace on the planet is to have more music sharing and music festivals.

Tom: Oh, I agree. More music and more music festivals. That’s the plan and a perfect prescription. Many times we get caught up with words, like you say, when we simply should just let the music speak for us.

Christine: I think we’re becoming energy linguists. In sound and in music we can communicate best… our heart, our feelings. When we communicate on that plane there’s no conflict, there’s no war. We create “sacred space.” What happens in sacred space? We create connections and harmony. Just the word harmony is a metaphor for what we’re creating on the planet right now, one beat at a time.

Tom: Why is it that some people think they could never learn a musical instrument when drumming and the Strumstick, with only a fraction of instruction, turn anyone into a music-maker?

Christine: The key is having a very easy, immediate learning curve. We give up on ourselves too easily. If I had to sit down and try to learn piano scales right away I’d probably quit too, but because you can get a sound immediately on a drum, and a good sound immediately on a Strumstick without any training, all of a sudden children who have never played an instrument before can be in a jam session. I think it’s time to remove that dualistic thinking that some people have talent and some don’t and recognize that music is who we are - that we are biologically wired for music. We all have a singing voice, we all have a drum beat called our heartbeat, and it’s time to let go of all those myths and lies, find the instrument that calls to our heart and be part of the music.

Tom:  In your experience how important are the arts, especially music in connecting us with one another and why aren’t diplomatic efforts on the part of nations engaged in peace making more focused on cultural exchanges involving musicians and artists?

Christine: That’s actually not true. There are many diplomatic efforts right now happening through music. If you look at U.S. history one of the first efforts of diplomacy was sending an African-American gospel choir to Russia during the beginning of the Cold War. Louis Armstrong was paid by the State Department to travel and play music.  I just think we need more of this and the vision that I hold is that before the United Nations talk - we have to have dialogue - first we would have music together. First there would be a performance and then there would be dialogue. I don’t believe it’s only about the music; I think it’s about the whole protocol of combining music-making, musical sharing and appreciation of each other’s culture, and true listening.

Tom: What’s upcoming in the near future for UpBeat Drum Circles?

Christine: We have opportunities to train people in the HealthRHYTHMS program that Remo Drum Company sponsors and we’ll be teaching more in the sacred drumming and peace building traditions in places like the Shambhala Mountain Center. We’re working on some new books and CDs about UpBeat Drum Circle's and Ashti Drum's whole journey in the Middle East hoping to continue to build our drum ashram, our drum ministry, our peace drum corps and continue to collaborate with RockOm. We love learning so much from visiting your site and tuning into what RockOm is doing. Thank you so much for that, Tom.

LINKS:

Visit Strumstick.com to learn more and to see and hear Christine demonstrate its versatility

Be sure to view all our features and interviews with Christine Stevens:

The Rhythm of Life

Social Change and the Power of Music

Global Resonance

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 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

By Tom Crenshaw, tom@RockOm.net

Yesterday I interviewed the legendary percussionist Airto Moreira for an upcoming feature planned at RockOm. For those who may not know of Moreira, Arito has worked with Miles Davis, Chick Corea, Francis Ford Coppola, Mickey Hart, Zakir Hussain and Flora Purim (Moreira’s wife who is a celebrated Brazilian jazz singer herself) to mention a few. I can only say his unpretentious viewpoint of his accomplishments precedes his reputation as a musician - quite impressive for someone who has contributed some of music's greatest rhythms. I was particularly struck by how Moreira expressed his acting as a channel from which a rich spiritual joy pours forth. It was when joy overtook him that he knew he was creating and performing music of the most extraordinary kind.

How can we, as Moreira, become a channel or a vessel for Spirit to express joy in the carrying out of our obligations - be it creating or performing music, or simply performing our daily work, no matter how mundane our tasks may seem?

One of the most effective ways to “get out of our own way” and express joy in the moment is to recognize the moment for what it is: it is sacred. This moment is, as the greatest teachers of spiritual enlightenment have taught for thousands of years, all that we can truly exist in. In recognizing the moment, instead of reliving the past or anticipating the future, we can begin to witness our being carrying out what it is we are doing in a new light. We become present and capable of being a channel to express joy.

Another way we can express joy is to not judge what it is we are doing in the moment so quickly. We tend to jump right in, right away at any given moment and define what we think is going on before Spirit has the opportunity to color our awareness and shed its light on our being. Take for example playing music. There isn’t a right way or a wrong way to play a note in music- there is simply the most effective way to communicate how you are feeling in the moment. How can we perform passionately while we're worrying about the last note that just tanked and anticipating the notes to come, hoping they won’t turn out like the notes before?

The same can be said for experiencing music as a listener. Upon hearing new music we tend to anticipate where we think the music is going.  Again, we’re not in the moment but referencing experiences from the past (“this sounds like such and such song”). We can’t experience the full joy of the music because we aren’t present – we’re anticipating or judging what it is we think we’re going to hear.

Today, spend some time being fully present in the moment in whatever you are doing and open up your being to become a channel for expressing joy. You’ll know when you are recognizing this sacred moment when you’re quickly filled with all that is good and joyous. When you can’t contain anymore, all that goodness will spill over and out, out into those around you and into the world.

You are designed from joy, to be filled with joy and to share that joy with those around you. Be present and open, don’t judge and become a channel. You have beautiful music inside you that is already in-tune with all that is good.

Watch for RockOm’s interview and podcast featuring percussionist Airto Moreira coming in September.

This is a continuation of yesterday's post, "Fabeku & Sacred Sound Healing." See PART I here.

RockOm: Do you have a ritual or some way that you prepare yourself for the sessions?

Fabeku: The main way I prepare is that I’m constantly hanging out with sound. The more time you spend with sound the more familiar it gets and the more comfortable you are with it. My morning ritual is that I get up and I work with sound for half and hour to an hour or so, playing with the singing bowls or chanting. So, it’s this constant immersion in sound for me. Before each individual session I spend some time getting quiet and connecting and asking my allies for support and assistance in the session. Once the individual is there I spend a couple of minutes sitting with what that focus is for them.  All of the sounds that come through during a session are just a reflection of their focus. During that time they’re surrounded in this space where everything they hear is a reflection of what it is they want.

RockOm: Where are you going with your work? What are your intentions for your future or your practice and other areas of your career?

Fabeku: I just finished a CD called Remembering Through Resonance.  It’s a singing bowl CD. I’m working on another CD with drums and some other instruments and definitely plan on working on other CDs in the future.  I’d love to do some traveling.  I’m going to start traveling, doing some workshops and sessions, and performing singing bowl concerts. I’ve got 35-40 singing bowls that I’ll pack up and take with me. I'll set up and spend a couple of hours playing the bowls and giving people that first hand taste of what the sacred sound is all about!

Be sure to catch the full audio portion of our interview with Fabeku on the RockOm.net Podcast.

More from Fabeku:

"Sacred sound supports healing, because it is informed by the intention the individual sets. And when I do each session, at the beginning, I pray that every sound that comes through the session be in total alignment with the highest expression of their intention. So we're basically creating a container of sound that can hold this intention for this, so they can then hold it for themselves."

"Sound works at the energy level, it works whether someone is there in person or doing the session at a distance. This work has been profoundly effective for people, and the truth is I've not seen any difference in efficacy between working with someone in the same or working with someone that's thousands of miles away. It's a different experience being present, of course - more immersive - but the work itself isn't limited by distance.

I've done a lot of healing work over the years, and sacred sound has been the most powerful, most effective and, at the same time, most accessible and most gentle medium I've found for supporting change in people's life. And the changes I've seen have been amazing.

In a broader sense, this work ties in with my love of music and has deepened and expanded my love of sound in all forms. My library of music includes everyone from Krishna Das, to Morrissey, to Debussy. Music moves me in a way few other things do, so my work with sacred sound feels like a natural extension of that love of music, and its power to touch and heal and change us."

Find Fabeku online at www.sankofasound.com

"Your basic orientation at a soul level is to rock out with as much goodness as possible. Sacred sound speaks to that, and clears away the stuff that’s made your inherent tendency to gravitate toward goodness hard to see, hard to feel and hard to recognize in your life."
[Fabeku Fatunmise]

Most of us find ourselves caught up in the day to day (if not hour to hour) undulation between ecstatic joy, intense levels of frustration, elation with life’s beauty and then back to inevitable suffering. How can our emotional state turn so quickly from one that is positive into one so negatively charged? Or conversely, how do we become rigidly fixed in circumstances that seem to never change and that drain us of our freedom to choose happiness?

Many are discovering a simple, yet profound way to be shifted into a higher awareness of being and out of negativity using sound and music. Through this process, the inertia is reversed so that one can strike a new balance in life or break through barriers, learning to realize one's true potential. Let's take a closer look at one practitioner of these sacred arts - a professional sound healer from southern Ohio.

Fabeku Fatunmise (www.sankofasong.com) is a gifted and talented sacred sound healer who has worked with sound and music on a transformational level for close to two decades. His practice involves helping individuals learn to shift their energy and become "unstuck." Speaking with him about his work one is struck immediately with his intensity, his personal vibrancy, and enthusiasm for life and for his work. Fabeku explains his passion for sound healing this way...

"Sacred sound healing ties in with my love of music and has deepened and expanded my love of sound in all forms. Music moves me in a way few other things do, so my work with sacred sound feels like a natural extension of that love of music, and its power to touch, heal, and change us."

Fabeku's spiritual background is largely rooted in shamanism, which has maintained a clear relationship to the power of sound for thousands of years.

"Ten years ago, my study of shamanism deepened when I met an extraordinary elder from Africa - Chief Adebolu Fatunmise. Baba Bolu graciously accepted me as his student. He allowed me to learn from him, to be initiated by him, to be accepted into his family."

Today, as part one of a two-part series, we share with you portions from RockOm's recent interview with Fabeku (the full audio of which will be made available in this afternoon's RockOm.net Podcast). Fabeku explains his calling into sacred sound healing and how we can all benefit from sound and music through an understanding of how energy can be shifted into high gear through work with a practitioner. It is then that we can begin to utilize our own abilities to use sound and music, at any time, for "shifting stuff."

RockOm: When did you realize you were being called into sacred sound healing?

Fabeku: I wish I could say I had this big vision, that the "sound healing angels" came to me, but when I first started studying shamanism (some 18-19 years ago) it was through drumming. I bought a hoop drum and realized I could shift the way I was feeling and I was taken by that. I started talking with friends and they thought I was completely nuts but said, "Well, drum for me." And so I did and stuff shifted for them. It evolved out of the work I was doing for myself and seeing how sound shifts stuff for people. I love music and I love to see concrete results when people come to me for sacred healing work.

RockOm: The tagline for your website is “Less struggle, more awesome.” What is it about sound and music in particular that helps us get "unstuck"?

Fabeku: Sound and music bypass the mind. When it comes to sound healing, in particular, it works at the energy level. Everything starts as energy. Sacred sound and music help us go to the roots of what’s going on and change what’s happening there. Sound and music give us access to that blueprint. People can make really big changes, really fast. Stuff can really shift in a flash!

RockOm: Tell us about your sacred sound sessions and what takes place in the course of a session.

Fabeku: There’s two ways to do a session; one is in person, and one is at a distance. It goes back to that energy level - where we’re working. It really doesn’t make much difference if one is in a room or a thousand miles away. The results of stuff shifting are really the same. For distance sessions we spend some time focusing on the intention, and this is really a key part of the equation. It’s what differentiates between making noise and making sound that makes a healing effect.

Be sure to catch the full audio portion of our interview with Fabeku on the RockOm.net Podcast. Also see Part II of this interview.

Fabeku Fatunmise's website

By Tom Crenshaw, tom@rockom.net

Music can be the glue that bonds people together from all walks of life. Even in death music can play a powerful role in celebrating life and remembering those who have passed on.

An old friend and a former band mate died a short time ago. Ralph Robinson never achieved fame and glory, yet he was quite the musician who loved music and his drums more than anything. By all accounts he was born to be a percussionist and from a very early age threw himself into his music performing in bands as a teenager, before heading off to a performing arts college to further pursue his passion. After college he went on to accomplish great things with his music, performing as a timpanist with the Salzburg Chamber Orchestra in Austria, the Berlin Philharmonic in Germany, and the New York Philharmonic.

After his stint as a classical performer he turned to the punk scene in NYC, giving up concert halls for the likes of CBGB’s and other notorious night clubs up and down the east coast. I first met him in the late 80s and we soon were playing hard-core Rock and Metal together on the road for several years.

He had requested there be no formal services or a funeral. Instead, he wanted his friends to come together and do what he loved most - play music. We did just that this past weekend in his hometown and remembered him as he wished. The nightclub hosting the reception was filled with his friends from all walks of life - black, white, young, and old came together and remembered him as he wished.

Ralph was the reason we were all there and music was the most appropriate way to celebrate. Celebrating his life in this way was far different than going to a funeral but gave closure at the same time. In fact that closure was given in a very powerful way because no one was sad - it was a celebration of his life. I think that's the way we will remember him from now on... through this celebration and his love for music.

As part of the healing process after a death we all grieve and have a strong desire to remember the most special moments in life we shared with the one(s) who have left us. We naturally gather as families and with friends and recall what we loved most about those people. Music plays an important role in all cultures and societies in not only celebrating birth, but in signifying death and transitioning. The circle is unbroken when we gather and use music as a healing source in remembering those who have gone on before us.

Through changing times, powwow drum still the heartbeat of the people
Written by JoKAY DOWELL for Nativetimes.com

Positive or not, change has come to the powwow arena and probably will continue to do so. But, some standards must be kept in order not to lose the culture entirely.

TAHLEQUAH, Okla. – To those lacking knowledge of Indian ways, the powwow drum in the center of the dance circle is an inanimate object made from stretched rawhide and wood used by singers who beat it to the rhythm of an unintelligible ‘chant.’ But to those who were reared in that circle, the drum is the heartbeat and spirit of the people, a living thing to be respected, for it holds healing power and carries ancient songs further into the future.

“In the Ottawa language, the words drum and heart are very close,” said respected Ottawa drummer and singer, Dr. Kevin Dawes. “When I first started (backyard) singing, long before I ever went out at a dance, I was told ‘Don’t just sit there and tap on it, being silly; that when I hit the drum I was talking to God.”

Like Dawes, Sac and Fox, Euchee and Pawnee men’s straight dancer Rusty Tiger remembers his first encounters with the instrument central to the powwow culture and the responsibility for its care.

“It involved ceremony,” he explained, “There were drum keepers in charge of this drum to cedar it off and pray…to take it out and let the sun shine on it, just like other living things that take their energy from the sun. When there was no sun they used the warmth of a fire to achieve a certain tone which enhanced the overall effect of the song and the drumbeat, giving life to the intent of the song by the composer. Have you ever heard a flat drum?”

Though powwows are social gatherings not held to the strict decorum of traditional ceremonies, there is a presumption of protocol, based on the beliefs and practices of the community in which the event is held. In one’s approach to the drum, there is an expectation of behavior that sometimes seems to be lost on some of the younger generation.

“We were told to watch the man leading the song, never raise our sticks higher than his; this is so foreign to the kids nowadays,” Dawes said. Tiger also noted that some of the youth who dance seem to be more interested in just their own particular contest than in the overall dance.

“This is also going to the way side due to the non-interest of the young dancers today, too busy visiting and conserving energy for their particular contest, most are just walking around. I was always taught to dance each song as if you were contesting, you are there to dance, sit down and be quiet, until it was time to get up again. If you wanted to visit or half-dance don’t even get dressed,” he was taught.

Dennis Zotigh, Kiowa, San Juan Pueblo and Santee Dakota singer and dancer, now the community events coordinator at the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian is in a position to continue to teach the ways of his family and emphasizes the potential for teaching respect around the drum.

“If I am going to the drum to sing, I should have good thoughts and feelings in general and toward the other singers. I need to be respectful when approaching the drum and know the protocols of the tribes I am singing with,” he said.

Along with teaching respect for culture and the differences in communities, the drum has healing powers.

Dee Dee Goodeagle is known all over the United States as a championship women’s buckskin dancer. Her dress is made from deer hides softened to a velvety texture then stitched with colorful patterns of floral and geometric designs. Now in her 70s, she recently relented to knee surgery, having worn out the joints from years of refined, deliberate steps that exemplify the southern or Oklahoma style of women’s dance.

“I blew them out,” Goodeagle said of her knees. “The doctors wanted me to have surgery for some time, but the drum makes me feel so good I didn’t want to have to stop dancing even to get my knees fixed.” Within weeks after surgery, Goodeagle said she went to a dance and could not resist the call of the drum. She is back in the arena going strong.

Zotigh explains that the drum is more than an instrument to provide cadence for the dancers. There is a spirit that each powwow drum, with its singers, diffuses into the dance arena. The interaction between the drum, the singers and the dancers is powerful with spiritual and physical energy.

“This spirit, if used in the right way, can heal those who cannot dance, those who are troubled and those who are weary,” Zotigh said.

Besides interacting with the drum to set the mood for the event, singers have a unique perspective on the powwow culture that comes from their central location within the dance arena.

“The spirit enhances you with a particular song and that is translated outwardly to the dancers first, then there is feedback from the dancers back to the drum, by the blowing of the whistle and the war hoop, or even the ‘loo-loo’ of the women when that connection is made. The energy is astounding when this happens,” Tiger said.

Dawes agreed and said even with a presumption of decorum, there are exceptions when the crowd is obviously enjoying the singing coming from the drum.

“When you sing you miss out on almost all of the dancing, period. You have to be aware of how the dancers are tuned in to the music. An older singer told us that the only reason we’re out there is to make the dancers dance. After 37 years of singing, I still can’t stand failing in that. On the flip side, it’s a huge blast to see someone in street clothes out there dancing because he’s enjoying the music. I’ve noticed that as I sing less and ‘lawn chair it’ more, it feels good to be at home and just get out there in my droopy jeans and dance to be close to the drum,” Dawes said. But powwows have changed and some say it has not been all positive.

“The powwow world has evolved enough to where we hear people say they were raised in the ‘traditional powwow way.’ Go figure. Nowadays, we go to a gathering expecting to get something (usually money), whereas, in the past, people usually brought something to give away. We need to acknowledge that what we see today is (the participation of) tribes who have adopted this drum (or the powwow lifestyle) as opposed to their own traditional ways and made it suit their needs,” Damon Roughface, who comes from a long lineage of traditional Ponca dancers and singers, said.

Positive or not, change has come to the powwow arena and probably will continue to do so. But, some standards must be kept in order not to lose the culture entirely. Kiowa singer and powwow emcee Kelly Anquoe noted without the drum there would be no powwow.

Dawes related the warning of his father, former Ottawa Tribal Chairman Charles Dawes, now deceased, who was also an emcee at some of the oldest powwows in Oklahoma. “Dad used to quote a man named Frank Jones who said, ‘The drum is the heartbeat of the Indian people and when the last drumbeat has sounded, the Indian way will be no more.’”

PHOTO: Ponca singer Ed Littlecook, in white hat, leads singers in a victory song during a summer dance at White Eagle, Okla. Photo by JoKAY Dowell

[See Part I of this interview, "Every Instrument Has a Spirit," here.]

Trevor: As we at RockOm have been exploring the bond between music and spirituality and deeper meanings, percussion keeps coming up. Do you think there's some sort of essence about drumming or rhythm that's different?

Zakir: I guess rhythm is part of us from the time we're in our mother's womb. The heart is pumping, there is a pulse, so we respond to that. If you notice, most of the songs that are a hit are songs that you can tap your feet to or you can sing while you're walking. The tempos of the songs that have become hits are the tempos that either you walk in, you breathe in, or you make love in. So the rhythm is a central part of music which leaves an imprint on your mind. It's a very important part simply because you as a human being naturally respond to rhythm more quickly than you do to melody. Composers over the past many years have simplified and watered-down the melodies enough so that you can just as quickly relate to melody as well [sings “Na Na, Hey Hey, Kiss Them Goodbye” and the end of “Hey Jude”]. The composers have brought the melodies to the point where they almost are rhythmic. That's why rap is a big hit.

Shiva is shown with the damaru. He is the destroyer, but also the creator. His son, Lord Ganesha is shown with the pakhawaj, he's the protector. So the two very important gods in India are shown with drums. It is said that when Lord Shiva was called upon by the gods to go down to the earth and kill all the asuras (demons) he came down and he did what they call the “dance of destruction,” tandava. Now, Lord Shiva probably smoked a lot of weed. Because when he got into doing something, he just kept on doing it. (laughs) The point was that he started to destroy the demons and then there were not too many demons left, so he kept on destroying whatever was out there. And the gods got very worried and went, “Ok, pretty soon there's going to be no planet earth. So what to do?” So they sent out Parvati and her other name is Lasya, which means lust, romance, whatever you want to call it. She did the dance of lasya to calm down Shiva and established a balance, an order to all the chaos. Now it is believed that since the first word of the dance of destruction, tandava, is ta – and the first word of lasia, the dance of love and peace and order, is la - that's where the word “tala” comes from, which is rhythm.

So it is really written into the whole source of creation and because of that, I guess human beings are born with that connection, that connection of rhythm. The earth, when it rotates, creates a tone and that tone is Bb. When I hit this [hits table], there's no note, but if it's played a million times fast, it becomes a tone - “mmmm” - and that's Bb.

In the old days they used to bang the temple bells and the old drums to call people to prayers. When the king wanted a new law passed people went around the town, beating the drums and having people come and then explain to them what's going to happen next, who was going to get killed. Messages were sent on the law drums and there are talking drums in Africa to talk to. I guess it's all part of our process of living. And rhythm, pulse, heartbeat, and drums are an essential part of it – not just an important part of it. It is necessary to have that.

Tom: Would you say there could be an analogy in “ta-la” and, from the Bible, “in the Beginning was the Word”?

Zakir: Or in the word Om? We all draw upon something that we've heard and appeals to us. For instance, the growing up process of a musician in India is, OK now you want to become a professional artist. So you're to do the Chilla where you go away into the forest by yourself into that little hut where all the old gurus have gone before you. You live off the land, it doesn't matter how old you are - 15, 18, 20, whatever – and for forty days, you play your music. Where did the number 40 come from? And of course when you're living off the land, you're alone, you're with just your music, you're playing your music 16, 18, 20 hours a day. The vibration of it, the sound of it, the tone of it hypnotizes you. You see things; revelations come. You discover many things – what's inside of you. If there's ugliness inside of you, it will emerge, it will manifest and it may frighten you and tear your mind apart. It's like having an LSD experience of the most negative kind. Or if there's honesty and purity inside of you, that will emerge and enlighten you. So, the forty day period – the 40 days of Moses – the 40 days of flood or rain – that's what I wanted to say, that yes, there is this connection where 40 becomes a very important thing.

Why do we all have the same 12 notes whether we are in deep Africa or on the river in China or anywhere? Why do we have do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do and the flats and the sharps? It's the same in India and here and everywhere. And we say our music has been around for over 2,000 years, but we tuned our sitars and tablas to the machine 440, what the pianos are tuned to now. Why is that? Who knows? 4/4 is the same, 6/8 is the same all over the world. It has not changed or mutated into something else. Some people have gone further with the rhythmic signs, but in the west they've mainly still remained with 4/4 and 6/8. Dave Brubeck came in with “Take 5” and then that became known, while we have about 360 different ones in India which we play. The dance of destruction from Lord Shiva was supposed to be 14 beats; Lasya is supposed to be 8 beats.

Tom: Let's talk about some of your work with other instruments. You've worked with some unusual pairings before, pairing the tabla with the banjo, the bass, cello...

Zakir: It's not so unusual to me and I'll tell you why. Growing up as a young kid, our apprenticeship was in the Bollywood orchestras in India, film orchestras. Bollywood orchestras were all in one large room. At one end of the room was the string section: violins, violas, cellos, basses. Next to them on this side was the piano. Opposite the piano on this side of the room was a big riser which set the sitar player, the sarangi player, flute player, sarod player and there were two mics in there in between them. At this end, on the side of the indian musicians were the indian drums, tablas and all that. Opposite side on the piano line were the (western) drums. So, that's where we were and that's where we played. Under the baton of the conductor or composer, we all played together. That's what I grew up doing, playing with western musicians. Some days there would be a horn section there while we were doing the background score for a film. In those days the composer did not arrive with a complete, composed chart. He would look at the film and would see what the timing was and write the music there. So all of us had to be present because then he knew what he had at his command and what he could write for, what he needed at that time. At that time while he was doing that, we were jamming. The sitar player was sitting with the guitar playing and saying, “What do you got there?” – or the flute player is hanging out with the oboe player (coming up with ideas). So this was a common happening, day in and day out. For me, there wasn't anything unusual about these pairings.

100 years back, or even 60 years back, before that period, it was not so common for Indian musicians to play with musicians of other origins. But my generation, yes. My father was traveling with Ravi Shankar all over the world and would come home with records, LPs, of all varieties. That's where I first heard the Grateful Dead, Jefferson Starship, Yusuf Latif, Duke Ellington, The Doors, Bitches Brew or all these milestone albums. Having arrived here (in America) it was like walking right into the recording room with all those (Bollywood studio) musicians – the only thing was that the faces were different, the language was different and the approaches to the instruments were different.

When you pair with people, that's all one aspect of it – the other one is whether you get along. You can be with the greatest of musicians and sitting on the stage together and nothing happens. You just don't see eye to eye. Nothing's wrong with that, it just happens. So the pairings happen only because there's a connection, you see the same lighted path and you walk that path together so that connection is made and never broken.

Trevor: What do you have ahead of you, do you have new pairings you're working at, or what other adventures lie ahead?

Zakir: I'm still trying to strengthen the old pairings. Say, Mickey Hart for instance; I've known him since 1972 – that's when we did our first record called Rolling Thunder and I'm still working with him. The thing is after 10 or 12 years of working with someone, the valleys, the little corners and nooks and all, start to reveal themselves. I was a punk Indian musician wanting to impress the daylights out of everybody; I was gonna get on that drum and play as strong and as fast as possible. And I did that, but by the time I reached John McLaughlin and those guys, I understood that I needed to get to know them as people; I needed to go live where they lived, eat what they ate, go for walks with them, you know? Just be there, day in and day out. I went to the Shaman villages in South America with Airto (Moreira) to hang out there to just learn and to learn what Airto was all about, what Babatunde (Olantunji) was all about. That whole tradition – you can't just learn by listening to a record and saying hello to a person. That's just the surface; you've got to get to know them, then once you get to know them, that's when you can start finding the connection. Unless your hearts meet, your minds connect, and your eyes see the same lighted path, it's not possible to be paired together and make music together. I've been paired with a hundred different musicians over the years but there have been 2 or 3 that I am still working with because that walk has been taken. Sadly, some of those I have not been able to revist and maybe find that road and so the pairings didn't continue. But hopefully there are some more – like working with Bela Fleck and Edgar Meyer. This is something that just began two years ago and has the makings of a very special brotherhood, so let's see what happens.

Discuss this article

More about Zakir

Moment Records

Photography by Susana Millman

Thanks to Regina Grande