Abel Selaocoe: Shaman with a Cello

South African cellist Abel Selaocoe is redefining the parameters of the cello. He combines virtuosic performance with improvisation, singing and body percussion. Abel moves seamlessly across a plethora of genres and styles, from collaborations with world musicians and beatboxers, to concerto performances. But his solo shamanic performances are something else: he directs all his energy at communicating with the audience. He is both entertainer and minister, but he is also a healer, expanding the potential of his cello, and singing with a virtuosity that is never undermined by playing to the audience, gently coaxing them to sing along rather than resorting to the cliche of a hand-clapping accompaniment.

He has become a master of various pieces of digital equipment that enable him to create backing tracks--vocal, instrumental and percussive--with which he can play and sing along, as well as layering the sound by doubling voice and cello tracks. It comes close at times to being an over used gimmick, and yet, he knows just when to pull back from dependence upon the wonders of audio technology. In an instant, he will return to a masterful stroke of the cello's bow or a plaintive undulation of spine-chilling voice.

Selaocoe's resonant throat-singing is a wonder to behold, never just a display, but a way of conjuring the spirits of the ancestors he mentions in his introductions and invites into his performances. In a way that is common to so much African music, from the song of a bush village through to gospel, soul and rap. Selaocoe's show is not just superb entertainment, but also a form of teaching: his message is explicitly about love, community and healing. He brings all three of these essential qualities of humanity together in a way that leaves the audience uplifted and transformed. The wonder of Abel Selaocoe is that he can make any venue feel like a sacred gathering place. 

 

His debut album Where is Home? Hae Ke Kae on the subject of home and refuge was released in September 2022. It's dual title, in English and Sesotho, reflects the album's diverse program which draws from vibrant European and African influences: pieces inspired by South African and Tanzanian musical tradition share a space with works by J.S. Bach and Giovanni Benedetto Platti, some of which are renewed with instrumental and lyrical improvisations. The title of the album holds multifaceted significance for the Manchester-based musician: "Home is the place that empowers you; it's not only a geographical place but in people as well, where you can live a life of empowerment and not of oppression. I've learned to find my different homes through the cello." Abel Selaocoe represents Africa on the move.

Music Born of the Cold

Inuit throat singer Tanya Tagaq won the Polaris Prize in 2014 for Canada's best album of the year. Animism contained sounds never heard before in Canadian pop music: breathy throat singing, screeches, roars and other human sounds for which the English language has no names. Tagaq's music was ambiguous. She seemed a shamanic figure. 

 

Suddenly, she and other throat singers were everywhere. Indigenous artist Caroline Monnet incorporated Tagaq soundtracks into her hypnotic art videos. Some touring rock groups hired throat singers as opening acts. For a time, no television variety program was complete without a guest spot for throat singers.  

 

Tagaq may have seemed like a new and unique voice. But she had basically jazzed up a genre of Inuit music that has been performed on the land we now call Canada for thousands of years. Inuit throat singing, or katajjaq, is a distinct type of throat singing uniquely found among the Inuit. It is a form of musical performance, traditionally consisting of two women who sing duets in a close face-to-face formation with no instrumental accompaniment, in an entertaining contest to see who can outlast the other. One singer leads by setting a short rhythmic pattern, which she repeats leaving brief silent intervals between each repetition. The other singer fills in the gap with another rhythmic pattern.
 

The sounds used include voiced sounds as well as unvoiced ones, both through inhalation or exhalation. The first to run out of breath or be unable to maintain the pace of the other singer will start to laugh or simply stop and will thus be eliminated from the game. It generally lasts between one and three minutes. The winner is the singer who beats the largest number of people.
 

Originally, katajjaq was a form of entertainment among Inuit women while men were away on hunting trips, and it was regarded more as a type of vocal or breathing game in the Inuit culture rather than a form of music. Katajjiniq sound can create an impression of rhythmic and harmonious panting. Inuit throat singing can also imitate wind, water, animal sounds and other everyday sounds.
 

Notable traditional performers include Qaunak Mikkigak, Kathleen Ivaluarjuk Merritt, as well as Alacie Tullaugaq and Lucy Amarualik who perform in the katajjaq style. Several groups, including Tudjaat, The Jerry Cans, Quantum Tangle and Silla + Rise, also now blend traditional throat singing with mainstream musical genres such as pop, folk, rock and dance music.

 

Tudjaat (Madeleine Allakariallak and Phoebe Atagotaaluk) performed on the song "Rattlebone" from Robbie Robertson's 1998 album Contact from the Underworld of Red Boy. The album is composed of music inspired by Aboriginal Canadian music (including traditional Aboriginal Canadian songs and chants), as well as modern rock, trip hop, and electronica, with the various styles often integrated together in the same song.
 

To learn more, watch this video of Inuit throat-singing sisters Karin and Kathy Kettler from Canada. The sisters carry on the traditions of the elders from their mothers' village in Kangiqsualujjuaq, Nunavik, which is located in northern Quebec.

Free Shamanic Songs and Chants

I recorded a collection of multicultural songs and chants in 2011 and made them freely available for download at Archive.org. I learned these songs and chants from shamanic mentors and spirit guides. When a spirit is invoked, there is often an accompanying rhythm and chant that evolves. Shamanic practitioners often use specific rhythms and chants to "call" their spirit helpers for the work at hand. Each practitioner has his or her own song. It announces the shaman to the spirits and proclaims, "this is me…please help me." The song is usually sung near the beginning of the ritual and is often accompanied by drumming. The drum opens portals to the spirit world and summons the helping spirits.
 

Sacred or shamanic music is traditionally performed as part of a ritual, however it is not a musical performance in the normal sense. The music is directed more to the spirit world than to an audience. The practitioner's attention is directed inwards towards communication with the spirits, rather than outwards to any listeners who might be present. The practitioner is focused on the healing intention or spiritual energy of what he or she is playing, to the point that musical considerations are minimal.
 

Singing and drumming are extremely powerful tools for restoring the vibrational integrity of body, mind, and spirit. When coupled together, they move us to a level of awareness beyond form, a place where we discover our own divinity. Each song and chant on this recording has a specific purpose for invoking or paying homage to helping spirits and deities. Each one creates a vibratory resonance that allows these forces to be called forth. You can download Sacred Songs and Chants at: https://archive.org/details/SacredSongsAndChants.

Joy Harjo: "I Pray for My Enemies"

In her first new recording in a decade, Joy Harjo -- the first Native American named Poet Laureate of the United States -- digs deep into the indigenous red earth and the shared languages of music to sing, speak and play a stunningly original musical meditation that seeks healing for a troubled world -- I Pray for My Enemies, newly released in March 2021.
 

Collaborating with producer and engineer Barrett Martin on this unique new album, Harjo brings a fresh identity to the poetry and songs that have made her a renowned poet of the Muscogee Creek Nation and one of the most authentic and compelling voices of our times.
 

In a recent interview Harjo said, "The concept for I Pray for My Enemies began with an urgent need to deal with discord, opposition. It could have been on a tribal, national or a personal level. I no longer remember. The urgency had a heartbeat and in any gathering of two or more, perhaps the whole planet, our hearts lean to entrainment -- that is, to beat together."
 

Latin Grammy-winning producer, composer and founding father of the historic Seattle music scene, Barrett Martin brings a new dimension to Harjo's unique sound-world -- her words and music spoken, sung and explored in a vibrant mix of classic instrumental sounds. Harjo and Martin describe it as "funkified spoken word" inspiring "elegant jazz, urban soul, and inner city, reservation grit." Harjo sings and speaks her poetry, as well as playing saxophone and flute, on an album she describes as "very much of-the-moment."
 

Martin holds it all together with drums, upright bass, keyboards and production duties on I Pray for My Enemies. He assembled an all-star band to explore Harjo's work, featuring Peter Buck (R.E.M.) on electric guitar and feedback; Mike McCready (Pearl Jam) on electric guitar solos; Krist Novoselic (Nirvana) on acoustic guitar; and Rich Robinson (Black Crowes) on electric guitar solos. Additional players include renowned Iraqi oud master Rahim Alhaj; trumpeter Dave Carter and percussionist/backing vocalist Lisette Garcia. Harjo's stepdaughters sing harmony vocals, and her husband Owen Sapulpa plays surdo drum on the album. 

 

Harjo defines songs and poems as distinctly different expressions, and both are featured in the 16 tracks that make up I Pray for My Enemies. Her words and music, older and newer, get a fresh new identity here. The album opens, however, with a traditional Muscogee song "Allay Na Lee No." "Music travels," she says, adding, "It travels through history, ancestors and especially loves ports and waterways."
 

Some of Harjo's defining poems appear here -- "An American Sunrise," "Fear," "Running" and "Remember" -- refracting her own experience as a Native American woman of her culturally defining generation. "Calling the Spirit Back," from an early collection of Harjo's poems, and the new song "How Love Blows Through the Trees" -- written when COVID-19 reached her home in Tulsa, OK -- echo the suffering of a world experiencing a pandemic.
 

"Once the World Was Perfect" is based on a version of a Muscogee Creek creation story, which describes a time similar to now. She says, "We lost our way in the dark, forgot who we were, then had to find our way again."
 

Vignettes and "licks" of songs and poems also appear on I Pray for My Enemies, ranging from the epiphany of "We Emerged from Night in Clothes of Sunrise" to the playful "trickster" piece "Rabbit Invents the Saxophone." Both feature Harjo's soulful sax. "Stomp All Night" delivers all the primal energy the title suggests, inspired by Muscogee Creek social dances. Harjo's poetic music is just the medicine the world need at this time.

Singer, Songwriter Annie Humphrey

Annie Humphrey is an Ojibwe singer, songwriter and visual artist who was born and raised on the Leech Lake Reservation in Northern Minnesota. Her father was a singer and musician and her mother an artist and poet. They showed her that she carried their gifts in her hands too. She has been recording music for three decades. Humphrey's music career began out of pure necessity. With two young children to care for, she began performing at coffee houses and local events. Over the years her songwriting has focused on a specific theme with a message to "Be brave and have a good journey."
 

One of my favorite Humphrey songs is "Spirit Horses" from her first solo release, The Heron Smiled. Activist and poet John Trudell performs with Humphrey on this powerful, moving song. The Heron Smiled won her national recognition as Female Artist of the Year and Best Folk Recording at the 2000 Native American Music Awards. A true form of modern folk music, this album is simply one of the purest, honest and beautiful collections of music I have heard in many years. In 2004, her second recording, Edge of America was released. It's a little darker than her debut album but an inspiring five star release. The title track from this recording was later featured on acclaimed Native American filmmaker Chris Eyre's film Edge of America.
 

Her latest album, Eat What You Kill, was released in 2019. It features poetic lyrics that speak of accountability and gratitude. Her powerful voice pours out over her piano playing, sweeping listeners up in a whirlwind of emotions and feelings. On one of her songs Humphrey sings, "show your babies all I know, live by the stories my mother told." She uses her music and lyrics to pass down stories and a way of life. Another song, "Now She Dances," is about sexual assault. The song is also about climate change. The way women are treated, and the way the earth is treated, are the same. The last track, "Aadzookaan," speaks about the apocalyptic prophecies to the generation coming up. It says don't be fearful because these things are going to happen. The last verse of the song talks about how everything we need is on our land--the medicine, the resources, the food, everything we need. This is why we're going to be okay.
 

Today Humphrey is happily married and has four children and two grandsons. They inspire her spirit and her art. Her special interest is Turtle Heart, a group she founded that works with youth in her community to promote positive lifestyle choices. She continues to write music and perform. In a recent interview she spoke about her music career, saying, "I have more songs I will finish. I don't have a plan in the music field. I've never marketed aggressively. I just plan to keep writing and playing."

The Modern Shamanic Sound of Namgar

"Nayan Navaa" is the superb new album from Namgar, a band that plays modern sounds rooted in traditional music from the Republic of Buryatia in southern Siberia. The Moscow-based band led by renowned female Buryatia vocalist Namgar Lhasaranova features Buryat, Russian, Tuvan and Norwegian musicians. Together, the band presents a unique multi-ethnic musical mix that includes shamanic vocals, throat singing, galloping rhythms, rock, jazz, and mesmerizing soundscapes.
 

The melodic music Namgar creates was passed down to Lhasaranova from her grandparents and father, who sang to her as a child. The inventive arrangements are new, but the stories told in the songs are as old as the indigenous Buryats themselves, with tales and myths of ancient Mongol fighters, champions, horses and famous battles. The lyrics are based on traditional Buryat and Mongolian songs, reflecting Buryat nomadic culture. Topics include hunter, wedding, family, and yokhor round dance songs, as well as songs about horses, ancestors and shamanic rituals.
 

The group uses various traditional instruments from Buryatia and nearby regions such as the yataga (a 13-stringed zither), the chanza (a three-stringed lute), the khomus (jaw harp) and the morin khuur (a two-stringed bowed instrument), along with modern instruments like electric bass and drums to craft its unique sound. Lhasaranova has a beautiful, impressive voice. Her power, energy and amazing vocal range go beyond words and language, taking her listener on a journey to Siberia and the world of the Buryats, people whose roots reach back to Ghengis Khan and the Mongolian Empire.

Milford Graves, Visionary Drummer, Dead At 79

Drummer, scientist, educator and improviser Milford Graves died in his Queens, N.Y. home around 3 p.m. on Fri., Feb. 12. He was 79. Lois, his wife of sixty-one years, confirmed that the cause was congestive heart failure. Mr. Graves was surrounded by Lois, his five children (four daughters and a son), his beloved granddaughter, Tatiana, and a cross-section of students across generations who had bestowed him with the honorific "Professor," a nod to his guidance in music, botany, martial arts and metaphysics.

 

Milford Graves was Professor Emeritus of Music at Bennington College in Vermont, where he taught the power and aesthetic of Black Music as a faculty member from 1973-2012. He used his platform there to express his many ideas, most well beyond the confines of the performance stage, operating instead as a kind of shamanic artist and teacher, whose emotional and intellectual connection to traditional music he fused with scientific inquiry and study.
 

Graves graduated from the Eastern School for Physicians' Aids in the 1960s, and worked in a diagnostic veterinary lab for two years. He purchased an album of stethoscopic heart recordings during a lunch break in 1973, and its content led him to pursue the path of his life's work: He began to record heartbeats and transcribe them into music notation. What started as a rudimentary documentation on reel-to-reel tape increased in sophistication with the adoption of advanced computing technology, culminating in Mr. Graves's use of algorithms to create visualizations and sound data that plotted the human heartbeat and its varied electrical states for the purpose of healing. His discoveries led to a patent for preparing non-embryonic stem cells from a tissue derivative, subjecting those cells to vibrations from a heart sound to control the degree of differentiation into several other types of cells. He once said, "Drumming should be taught in medical school. Know your beats. There are subtleties in the heartbeat that cannot be picked up through electronic imaging," and his scientific rigor on heart rates informed a non-linear approach to playing rhythm.
 

Graves was a prominent jazz drummer and percussionist from the 1960s New York avant-garde and free-jazz movements. New York City in the 1960s was an artistic cauldron, and the ideas of freedom and struggle coursing through the Civil Rights and Black Power Movements began to manifest in an expansive view of improvisation and music-making. The avant-garde, or New Thing, loosened certain strictures and gave improvisers like Graves an opportunity for wide-open self expression, and even established artists like Coltrane seemed to be drawing from the same creative well. "Milford played how he felt music should sound related to what was around him," says longtime friend and collaborator, drummer and composer Andrew Cyrille. The music felt like a departure from tradition, and some writers derided the striking new music with withering criticism. Meanwhile, Graves was transforming the role of the drums. He viewed his holistic approach to drums as an extension of how he lived with "outside forces having less control of you, allowing you to have more flexibility, more freedom and listening to the vibrations of the earth, that nature gave you."
 

Graves also began exploring martial arts in the late 1960s. He created a new form called Yara, from the Yoruban word meaning "nimble." He followed a teacher's interest in the praying mantis as a model. He subsequently bought and released these insects into his own garden, followed their movements and developed his own martial arts study based on their natural behavior. This inspired the title of a 2018 documentary on Graves, Full Mantis.
 

When his grandmother died, in 1970, Graves moved into her modest 20th-century home at the corner of Brinkerhoff Avenue and 156th Street in Queens, just blocks from the South Jamaica Houses he once called home. He personalized the lot and dwelling with a distinctive flair, adding stone and ceramic architectural elements to the exterior structure in a playful style akin to Antonio Gaudi. He created an organic garden to promote healing arts and added a dojo to teach Yara. Inside there's murals, sculptures and drums from around the world; a downstairs laboratory includes dried herbs and botany research, elixirs, Eastern medicine texts and acupuncture practice juxtaposed with electrocardiogram machines and computer monitors. And books. Lots of books. Graves was a generous polymath who openly shared his knowledge.
 

Mark Christman, artistic director of Ars Nova Workshop, has been measuring and curating aspects of Graves' immense contribution to music, science, botany and martial arts over the last several years. The collection spent four months at Philadelphia's Institute for Contemporary Art, with a five-week pause due to pandemic restrictions. The exhibit, A Mind-Body Deal, drew more than 2,000 attendees and over 5,000 participants to its many virtual events, including a solo performance from Moran. "Milford Graves offers a perspective that isn't limited by the way we've been forced to learn," says Christman. "That linear way of study doesn't allow a mixture or mash-up of thoughts and decision-making. That's why he's adored, and people looked to him for answers."

To learn more about Milford Graves, read “Taking Rhythm to Heart.”

New Music: "Lift Me Up"

I invite you to listen to my latest release on Spotify. This song came to me as I was hiking the North Crestone Creek Trail near my home in Crestone, Colorado. I am amazed by how deeply nature speaks to me when I am prepared to listen. Mother nature is my divine muse and inspiration. The God that so many down through the ages have humanized and worshiped is really nature herself. She lifts me up and frees my soul. Listen to "Lift Me Up."

"Rhythms Within A Turquoise Dream"

"Rhythms Within A Turquoise Dream" is the latest music release from Native American artist Louie Gonnie. Gonnie is Dine from the Navajo Nation in New Mexico. Gonnie admired his father and uncles and wanted to be like them so he began to sing in the Native American Church. He is also a well rounded artist, expressing himself in music, art and writing.

Gonnie started singing for family and friends. Eventually, people were recording his music and he realized that he could have a career as a recording artist. His albums started out as Peyote songs of the Native American Church. Since then he has created a more contemporary style.

Gonnie is the exemplar of a creative artist. While very much a part of Dine traditions and very much living its values, Gonnie has an artist's desire to find personal expression within the world of his community. His first two recordings -- Sacred Mountains and Elements (my personal favorite) -- were explorations of the music of the Navajo people in which traditional experience was the foundation for this artist's unique music.

Gonnie's latest album, "Rhythms Within A Turquoise Dream," is a direct return to his roots in the Native American Church. The recording of peyote songs is always a controversial issue within the Native American Church. Some practitioners feel that the songs, as they are intrinsic to a sacred ritual, should never be recorded, while many others feel that recordings are important for disseminating their songs throughout the community.

Even as he lives in respect for NAC values, Gonnie takes the songs for the peyote ritual to a new place. While his song forms are very traditional, the means of producing those songs (extensive studio multi-tracking) is not. Nonetheless Gonnie's compositions and layered harmonies are reverent, spiritual, and achieve transcendence. Anchored by a water drum and sustained by waves of his flowing vocals, Gonnie leads an inner voyage from dreams to actuality, from earth to sky and from the past to eternity.

The Dalai Lama's First Musical Album

"Inner World," the Dalai Lama's first musical album, is a sacred offering of mantras and teachings set to music. In "Inner World," Tibet's leader, Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama, chants key Buddhist mantras and delivers his insights that trace much of the world's pressing concerns to the spiritual malaise characterizing life in the new century. In short, much of the world's problems owe much to its neglect of the soul: the "Inner World."

Released July 6 when the Dalai Lama celebrated his 85th birthday, "Inner World" consists of 11 tracks along the New World music genre written mainly by New Zealand composer Abraham Kunin, a follower of the Tibetan leader. Kunin's compositions are similar to Tibetan religious music; the main instruments seem to be the bamboo flute, biwan fiddle, Zhannian zither and dungchen or Tibetan long horn. Since this is Tibetan music, it is also Shamanic or meditative music with its use of continuous sounds, some of them natural, such as running water or fountain.

One of my favorite tracks is "Compassion," in which the Dalai Lama intones the famous "Om mani padme hum," the six-syllable mantra associated with the bodhisattva of compassion. In his best-selling books, the Dalai Lama refers to the mantra as a purification on the path to enlightenment -- to "transform your impure body, speech and mind into the pure exalted body, speech and mind of a Buddha."

In "Humanity," we hear the Dalai Lama blaming violence and injustice to "a lack of human compassion . . . a lack of oneness as brothers and sisters." He explains that a "self-centered attitude" puts "too much emphasis on we and them, (which is the) basis of killing, bullying and exploitation." "All injustice is based on too much concept of we and they," the Dalai Lama declares.

Toward the end of the record, he says that whether believer or nonbeliever, "we are the same human beings (who want) a happy life, a peaceful life." This could be attained only by inner conversion. "We have to make every effort to promote through education about inner values," he concludes.

The Dalai Lama's renewed calls for "inner values" and "compassion" are peaceful and nonviolent exhortations that are addressed as much to modern mankind as to Communist China, which has been enslaving Tibet for nearly 70 years now.

Drumming in the New Year

Happy New Year to you all! As 2019 comes to a close, I will be celebrating New Year's Eve by drumming out the old year 2019 and drumming in the New Year 2020. Drumming in the new year is believed to have originated in ancient China when creating noise from drums and fireworks was thought to dispel evil spirits and bring good luck. For thousands of years, the drum has been used as a tool for moving through sacred transitions, honoring changes in seasons, and attuning to the cyclical rhythms of nature. Drumming in the new year is a great way to set the tone and intention for 2020. It is also a good time to reflect on the year ending to see where you have erred and reform those beliefs, attitudes, and strategies no longer applicable to the New Year unfolding. It is an opportunity to feel gratitude for all that has been received and accomplished throughout the past year. Such a fresh open-minded approach will broaden your perspective and start you out on the right track. What will you be "drumming" into your life for 2020?

The Therapeutic Effects of Shamanic Flute Music

The Native American flute, a traditional ethnic wind instrument developed by indigenous Native American cultures, is an end-blown flute fashioned either from cane, hardwood, or softwood. The instrument evolved from traditional uses in courtship, treatment of the sick, ceremony, signaling, legends, and as work songs. During the late 1960s, the United States saw a roots revival of the flute, with a new wave of flutists and artisans. Today, Native American style flutes are being played and recognized by many different peoples and cultures around the world.

The Native American flute is sometimes used by music therapists. Because of its simple and accessible design, virtually anyone can play the flute. A recent study exploring the therapeutic effects of listening to the Native American flute found that flute music decreases anxiety and increases perceptions of interconnectedness in individuals diagnosed with a trauma related disorder. Flute music facilitates perceptual experiences of integration related to trauma, as well as expanded consciousness. The use of music with issues of trauma, as well as facilitating unity consciousness, appears timely. Music can reach where nothing else can and perhaps when nothing else can. Poets, philosophers and musicians have expressed what most people have experienced, that music has the power to deeply touch the heart and the soul, and the capacity to transform and transcend. To learn more, read "The Effects of Sacred Shamanic Flute Music on Trauma and States of Consciousness."

"Twilight Owls" Music Release

Twilight Owls combines trance-inducing drums, flutes and nature sounds in a rousing celebration of shamanic music. Shamanic music is a way to evoke and internalize animal archetypes. An animal archetype represents the spirit and attributes of the entire species of that animal. Shamanism is the endeavor to cultivate ongoing relationships with power animals to gain insight, healing methods, and other vital information that can benefit the community. Owl medicine includes prophecy, wisdom, stealth, silence, intuition, clairvoyance, clairaudience, shapeshifting, and keen vision that can pierce all illusion. Call upon Owl to unmask and see what is truly beneath the surface -- what is hidden or in the shadows. Owl is a messenger of omens who will call out to let all share in its vision.

A shamanic performer uses various instruments to communicate with the spirits. The first instrument you hear on "Twilight Owls" is the Native American Flute, an ancient wind instrument used to announce to the spirits that ceremony is beginning. Its sound represents the voice of the birds, the voice of the wind and the voice of the soul -- those things that are free to move and fly. The next instrument you hear is the drum. Its steady beat is akin to the primal pulse, the heart, throbbing within all that exists. The shaman uses the drum to create a bridge to the spirit world and summon the healing power of spirit. Drum and flute merge with Tawny Owl calls and the sounds of nature weaving the musical fabric of the song. Available on iTunes, Amazon and CD Baby.

The Power of the Conch Shell Trumpet

The conch, also known as a "seashell horn" or "shell trumpet," is a musical instrument that is made from a seashell (conch). Its gently expanding interior spiral forms an ideally proportioned windway for producing a warm, full, and far-carrying tone. Probably the first musical instrument that was ever invented, the conch is often associated with the controlling of natural elements related to its habitat, such as rain, water, and wind. The conch is also used to represent the sacred breath of life. The interior spirals of conch shells often exhibit the mathematical proportions of the golden ratio, also known as the golden mean. This placed them in both the celestial and terrestrial world through the Classical concept of the music of the spheres. The golden ratio was often expressed in the design of musical instruments.

The conch achieved exalted status as a sacred instrument in ritual and religion around the world, including Hinduism, Buddhism, and the spiritual practices of Mesoamerica. The conch is sounded at the beginning of important rituals to attract attention, signaling the start of a ceremony, notifying the community, and drawing the Creator's participation. The sound is believed to have the ability to drown out any negative words or noises that might disturb or disrupt the harmonious atmosphere. The sound of conch is understood as the source of all existence -- a cosmic womb, for when the conch is blown, it is said to emulate the primordial sound from which all else emanates. Listen to the conch on my song "Turtle Shaker."

"Drum Sounds and Their Meanings"

Mickey Hart

Mickey Hart is an American Grammy winning percussionist and musicologist. He is best known as one of the two drummers of the rock band Grateful Dead. In 2014 Mickey wrote an excellent article for Smithsonian Folkways titled "Drum Sounds and Their Meanings." This article focuses on how drums are used in many cultures to communicate, play, work, as well as express cultural connections to death, war, and spirituality.

The drum plays a role of great importance in many cultures for its rhythm develops a oneness of feeling and purpose with the rhythms of life. According to Mickey: "There are three fundamental rhythms that each of us experiences: the personal rhythm of the human body, the larger social rhythm of the family, tribe or nation, and the enveloping cosmic rhythms of the planets and the universe." Mickey outlines the ingenious ways that we use drums and percussion of all kinds to manipulate and experience these rhythms. He also shares his favorite drum tracks, while explaining their meaning in our lives and culture. Read more.

Traditional Musical Instruments of Siberia

Playing a Khomus or Jaw Harp

In Siberia, shamanism and music combined thousands of years ago. A Khakassian legend says that each of the indigenous peoples once received a gift from the spirits – a musical instrument, along with the talent to master it and preserve the traditional manner of performance through the ages. The Altaians got the jaw harp or khomus, the Yakutians got another kind of jaw harp called vargan, the Khakassians got the chatkhan (a stringed instrument), and other related peoples took the other instruments. Every musical instrument has a unique energy, spirit and sound. Sound is regarded as one of the most effective ways of establishing connections with the spirit realm, since it travels through space, permeates visual and physical barriers and conveys information from the unseen world. Hence, sound is, by definition, a means of "relationship" as well as a "transformation" of energy. Sound-producing instruments facilitate interaction and relationship among all parts of the living world. Read more.

Crafting a Djembe Drum

Copyright 2004 © by Chris Bittner 

My name is Chris Bittner, and I am a drum maker living in central Pennsylvania. As you already know, drumming is fun, it is powerful, and oftentimes spiritual for people. We know that we enjoy the rhythm. But many people are left curious about the drums themselves: what are they made of, and how are they made? I would like to describe my drum making experience, so that you can learn a little about what I do.

Although I have been making drums for just five years, my drum journey really began when I was a child. My brother went around playing rhythms on everything, and since I had to copy him, I did it too. This is something which has never left me. I played "drums" on my dinner table, car dashboard, etc. When I was a child, I also learned to enjoy working with wood. My father taught me to use tools and make small projects. In my early twenties, I began making wood sculptures. Then about ten years ago, I began playing in any drum circle I could find, as well as a local West African drum and dance troupe. In 1999, I combined my love of woodworking with drumming, and began making drums.

I attended a four day drum making workshop offered by Yendor Drums. We began with djembe shells that were rough-carved in Ghana. Through the course, we finish-carved the drum shells, prepared a fresh goatskin, assembled and tuned the drum. Yendor sells all the necessary materials, so I felt that it was time for me to start my own small business making and selling drums.

Most of the drums I have made (close to 100 now) have been made from African drum shells. These drum shells are carved by drum makers in Ghana. The wood they use is called tweneboa. Tweneboa is lighter, softer and less dense than many other African drum woods. It has the advantage of being much easier to carve. I have also made a number of drums from African drum shells made from iroko wood, imported from Ivory Coast. By contrast, iroko wood is very hard and heavy. It is appropriate to note that most African drums (and especially djembes) are made from the harder, heavier woods. Since it is more difficult to make drums from harder wood, I am sure that it is used for good reason. However, many fine drums are also made from the softer Tweneboa wood, so I believe each type has its merits.

A typical drum project will begin when someone contacts me who wants to buy a drum. Together we will decide on the type of drum (djembe is by far most popular, I also have solid shell ashikos) and desired size. I choose an appropriate drum shell and begin work.

Preparing The Shell

Usually, the exterior of the shell will be pretty close to a finished shape. The inside, however, always needs quite a bit of work. There tends to be a lot of extra wood on the inside of the bowl and also inside the pipe (lower part of the djembe). The most useful hand tool for carving this wood out is called a scorp. A scorp is a wood gouge that works on the pull stroke. It is necessary to cut the wood with the grain, which means from the middle of the djembe toward the ends. Cutting the opposite direction with a straight gouge can be done, but it generally is difficult or impossible. Woodcraft (http://www.woodcraft.com/) sells a good scorp. I remove excess wood from the interior until I have a uniform thickness of about 3/4 inch.

I smooth the exterior with a sureform. This is a tool that looks like a cheese grater on the bottom. After that, I use coarse sandpaper (perhaps 80 grit) to start smoothing the surface. Then I use my power sander with finer and finer grits until I am happy with the smoothness.

Perhaps the most important aspect of the woodwork is the shaping of the bearing edge (top edge that will support the skin). There are three aspects to this: making the rim round, rounding the outer edge, and making the rim flat.

I measure the diameter of the top rim, and usually discover that it is not quite exactly round. For example, it may measure 13" in one direction, and 13 1/4" in another. What I do is cut a cardboard circle that is 13" in diameter and as perfectly round as I can make it. I place this circle on top of the drum and center it. A circle is drawn around the edge of the cardboard. Then I can use a sureform to make the outside perfectly round. I do the same for the inside edge of the bearing edge. These steps are not absolutely essential, but I feel that a round drum is more likely to sound really good.

Next, I use a woodrasp to bevel the outside of the bearing edge. The outside should be nicely rounded so that your hand will not hit a sharp corner as you play the drum. It also will allow the skin to slide smoothly over the edge when the skin is attached or tuned. Do not round the inside edge at this point. Allow the inside edge to be a little pointy, and the highest point on the edge. At this point, I will lay a sheet of glass down on top of the drum. I look under the glass, and can see where I need to remove some wood using a rasp to make the top rim flat. When it gets pretty close, I use a sanding board to make the top perfectly flat. The sanding board is simply a nice, flat piece of plywood, about 18" square (you could also use glass or steel plate), with adhesive backed 60 grit sandpaper stuck on it. Lay the board down on top of the drum and slide it around in a circular motion. You will soon see that you have created a flat area along the inside top edge of the drum. Stop the sanding when the flat area appears on the entire circle.

At this point, I use the rasp, cutting in a motion from the outside of the rim toward the inside, taking care to keep the front of the rasp a little higher than the rear, with respect to the flat plane of the top edge. In other words, your final result must be that the inside of the rim should be the highest point of the rim, with the rest of your flat area having been worked down into the outside curve. The danger is that the drum may wind up with a "buzz" if there is any flat area left on the top rim.

I like to use the sanding board on the bottom rim of the drum, too. Shape it however you like.

The wood should be sealed with some type of finish. Many people will seal the drum inside and out, but I usually only finish the outside. If the wood has been properly seasoned, I would expect no further problems with cracking. Many types of wood finish are available, and I think any type you like is acceptable. I generally use boiled linseed oil, or danish oil finish, and sometimes polyurethane if I want a really durable finish.

Attaching The Skin

Now the drum shell is ready. Three steel rings are needed to secure the skin. Two of them will hold the skin at the top of the drum, one will act as a counter hoop at the drum's middle. For djembes, the lower ring must either be big enough to go over the bottom of the drum (which often makes it ride unacceptably high on the bowl), or it must be wrapped around the middle of the drum and welded there. The latter is what I usually do. I use 1/4 inch round steel rod bent into a circle. For the top rings, you might want to order the rings from a drummaker or supplier, or have you local sheet metal or welding shop make the rings for you. Make sure they are solidly welded, as insufficient welds can break under the drum's tension.

Each average size djembe needs about 85 to 100 feet of rope. Use good rope! I suggest rope that is 3/16" to 1/4" in thickness. You want rope that is as non-stretch as possible, usually called static line in climbing supply shops. Most drum maker suppliers will offer good rope.

The uppermost and lower ring will be wrapped with the cradle loops of the Mali weave. The longer vertical rope will connect the two rings. Goatskin is the best type of skin for djembes. It is the perfect thickness to produce the wide range of tones that make the djembe so popular. Ashikos may be headed with goat, deer, elk, or even cowskin. Thicker skin will give deeper, more mellow ranges of tones. My ashikos with cowskin sound very conga-like.

I like to dehair my skins before I apply them to the drum. I feel that it is easier, and makes a cleaner looking finished drum. It is more traditional, however, to put the skin on the drum with the hair still on, then scrape the hair off of the playing surface. I dehair hides by placing them into a barrel of water with perhaps two dry quarts of hydrated garden lime. Over several days to two weeks, the hair will come loose and be very easy to scrape off, leaving a nice smooth skin. Bear in mind that the lime is somewhat caustic, so it is best to wear gloves and eye goggles. Others have said that wood ashes will also work the same way. Skins can be used fresh, but most of us get our skins in dry form by mail order. I will put a dry goatskin in a barrel of clear water and let it soak overnight. In the morning, I am ready to skin the drum.

The bearing edge should be rubbed with parafin prior to applying the skin. This seals the wood somewhat from the moisture in the skin, and allows the skin to move smoothly over the edge.

I lay the skin on a table, hair side up, and lay the third ring (the one without ropes on it) on top of the skin, centering it on the spineline of the skin. The edges of the skin are folded up and into the center of the ring. The top ring, with its cradle rope attached, is laid on top of the skin. This assemblage is then set on top of the drum, centered as well as possible. The long rope is then laced up and down between the upper and lower rings, until it is laced all the way around. I slowly tighten the rope taking care to keep the top rings even with the top rim. When I can tighten no more by hand, I use a leverage bar to continue slowly tightening the rope. When it becomes very tight, I hold the tension with vise grips and set the drum aside to dry for a few days. After it is dry, it can be tuned some more until it sounds great. A drum is born!

Carving Shells

Another aspect to my drum making is the carving of drum shells from logs. I have been able to get log sections from numerous sources, usually when trees are taken down for some reason. The tree cutting guys are usually happy to give me the log sections, since they would otherwise have to haul it away. And so I have gotten pieces of elm, maple, walnut, cherry, ash, and perhaps a couple others. I have taught myself to use a chainsaw and other power tools to carve drum shells. Needless to say, this can be very dangerous work, so please be careful and work within your skills. I begin by using the chainsaw to cut the ends of the log off straight. Then I use an angle grinder with a chainsaw-tooth attachment to slowly carve out the inside of the bowl (for a djembe). I use the chainsaw to do a plunge cut straight up through the bottom to meet the bowl. Another plunge cut perpendicular to the first makes an "X" shaped hole. Then it is possible to use a large gouge and hammer to knock chunks out to form the inside of the pipe. I use the chainsaw and angle grinder to slowly carve away wood from to outside of the drum, doing my best to keep the drum symmetrical. Five hours and a sore back later, I have a rough carved drum shell!

Now comes the important part. Since the wood is green, it still has a lot of moisture in it. It is essential to season (dry) the wood slowly so that it doesn't crack in the process. This is not an easy task. Here's what I do. I melt some paraffin and paint it onto the top and bottom rims of the shell. I use a small propane torch to drive the paraffin into the rims, ensuring that the wood is sealed. The rims are where the endgrain of the wood is. Moisture will evaporate from the endgrain ten times faster than from the sides. When wood dries, it shrinks. If one area shrinks faster than another, cracks develop. Therefore it is important to seal the wood and slow the drying where it dries the fastest, the endgrain. Now the shell must be stored and allowed to dry for some time. Complete drying generally takes from six to twelve months. You can track the drying by weighing the drum shell monthly. It will lose weight as it dries. When it stops losing weight, it is duly seasoned.

Where you store the drum is very important. The idea is that the wood must dry slowly and naturally. Therefore, you do not want to store it in a heated indoor space, because the air is dry and would dry the wood too rapidly. Air conditioning is equally undesirable. The best place would be a garage or other unheated space, that does not get too hot if you are doing this in the summer. Cold weather does not seem to be detrimental in my experience. Make sure the shell is not in any wind. Make sure it is out of the sun. Choose the most ideal space you can find, even if you have to take it to uncle Fred's shed.

Some drum shells will crack in the drying process no matter how careful you are. Cracked shells can be filled with epoxy mixed with sawdust to repair the crack. It won't look pretty, but you can still use the shell. I hope you have enjoyed this essay on my experiences with drummaking. Feel free to contact me if you have any questions, I am happy to share. 

Chris Bittner developed an appreciation of wood at an early age, as well as a talent for working with it. Later in life he learned the joys of rhythm and community drumming. In 1999, Chris made his first djembe, when it became magically apparent to him that drum making could be his full time endeavor. And so, DrumWorks was born, in an effort to work at what he loves, and to provide people with the instruments so that they could enjoy rhythm as much as he does. You may learn more about Chris and DrumWorks at http://www.skillpages.com/drummer/akron-united-states/chris.bittner.

Visions of Sound

The most comprehensive study ever undertaken of the musical instruments of Native people in Northeastern North America, Visions of Sound focuses on interpretations by elders and consultants from Iroquois, Wabanati, Innuat, and Anishnabek communities. The authors have listened carefully to what they have said and have had the respect and sensitivity to never lose sight of Native instruments as bi-directional conduits linking all spheres within a spiritually-centered world; a world from which instruments emerge and return conceptually, functionally and physically. What makes the book so very powerful is the sense that its authors have moved beyond documentation of this discovery to link scholarly engagement itself with such a world. Visions of Sound is an important book for all ethnomusicologists and students of Native American culture as well as general readers interested in Native mythology and spirituality.

Crafting a Slit Drum

by Chris Bittner

Slit drums are a fascinating and ancient percussion instrument, common to cultures around the world. The basic design of a slit drum is quite simple; a section of log or tree branch with a long slit carved along its length, through which the middle of the log is hollowed out. The slit stops short of reaching the ends of the log, so that the ends are left intact. The drummer will play the slit drum with two sticks, striking near the center of the log, and on either side of the slit. Generally, one "playing area" has been carved thinner on the underside, giving that side a lower tone than the other side. Slit drums vary in size from quite small (a foot long and four inches in diameter) to full size logs.

I have been fortunate to see a few large slit drums in museums which were beautifully crafted. One that I remember in particular was carved over its entire surface with carvings of animals. This slit drum was African. At the ends of the slit on the top of the drum were fair sized square holes that probably serve to enhance resonance as well as giving the carver greater access for the hollowing process.

A few years back, my friend and teacher Dan Trevino visited Guinea and brought back a set of three "krins." These were small slit drums, one each small, medium and large, with the largest perhaps 20 inches long. The krins were to be played by three different drummers, each playing a different part, therefore playing specific songs. The krins were carved with three slits: one wide one in the middle, and two narrower ones on each side of the wide one. The wide slit allows access to the middle of the log for hollowing, while the two outer slits create two separate "tone bars." Additionally, one of the narrower slits is shorter on one end than the other two slits, giving its tone bar a higher pitch. The ends of the log are also used. In fact, the sticks tap out a continuous steady beat, and whichever musical spaces are not being played on the two tone bars are being played on the "side notes," as we called them. As you can imagine, it takes some practice to coordinate the continuous left-right-left-right pattern with the proper notes of the song.

Making a Slit Drum

After playing krin music for some time, I made several krins. The first krin I made was from a piece of Elmwood, fresh-cut from a living tree that was taken down. It was about 15 inches long and 4 inches in diameter. I know from my carving experience that green wood is softer and easier to carve than dried wood. Of course, it is also true that the carved green piece is likely to crack, to some degree, as it dries. As you may know, wood shrinks as it dries. As the outer portions of the wood dry faster than the inner portions, stresses develop, and cracks open up to relieve the stresses. But I decided to carve the krin from green wood, reasoning that I may get lucky and have few cracks develop, and that I could always dry some wood and try dry wood later. 

It is worth noting here that the subject of drying wood without cracks is quite involved. But if this task is before you, you are well advised to read what you can about it to increase your chances of success. An excellent resource is Understanding Wood by R. Bruce Hoadley, considered by many to be the most comprehensive book on the subject. It becomes very scientific at times, but is very friendly to the novice (myself included).

I brought the piece of elm into my workshop and debarked it. I chose the side that I wanted to carve the slits on and marked the outlines of the 3 slits. The middle slit would be about 1 inch wide and stopping about 2 inches from the ends. The second slit would be 3/8ths of an inch wide, and the same length as the middle slit. The third slit would also be 3/8ths of an inch wide, but shorter on one end than the first two slits by about 2 inches. The tone bar on this side will be the higher note of the finished krin.

The task is to carve out the three slits and the entire inside of the log piece, creating two tone bars and a resonation chamber. I began by drilling holes along the slits, the same size as the width of the slits. I went maybe halfway into the log. Then I continued with carving gouges until I had the slits basic shape opened up. Carving gouges are a straight handled tool with a "U" shaped cutting edge, used by pushing or tapping with a mallet. They come in all sizes. I continued using the gouges and the drill to remove wood from the middle of the log, working through the large, middle slot. As you can imagine, this is rather difficult. One thing that will help is to secure the log to a workbench. I did this by wrapping a rope around the ends of the log, and putting the two rope ends through holes in the workbench, one hole at each end of the krin. I tied the two rope ends (from one end of the krin) together to form a loop, then put a stout piece of stick through the loop, then twisted the stick to pull the krin down ever tighter against the workbench. I pounded a nail into the table to secure the stick. Repeat for the other end. Now the krin wouldn't move as I carved it.

Eventually the inside was carved out to my satisfaction. I put the krin in a relatively humid place to try to allow it to dry slowly, to avoid cracks. But as it turned out, the krin split wide open radially from the middle slit to the pith of the log. Interestingly, the krin sounds fine anyway! But it sure doesn't look good.

For my second krin, I tried using a piece of sycamore wood, larger than the first krin. I drilled a hole into each end of the krin, straight into the pith. I reasoned that this would help to remove some of the stresses that cause cracks. Then I carved the krin as before. When finished, I put a hose clamp around each end of the krin, maybe one inch from the ends, and tightened them down very hard. I hoped that this would physically stop the cracks from opening. I noticed that it was necessary to tighten the hose-clamps everyday to maintain tightness, since the wood was drying and shrinking continuously. In the end, it worked! I dried it without any cracks, and finished it beautifully with oil finish and paste wax. Several more krins were completed with good results this way.

All of this causes one to wonder how they're made in Africa. Although certainly the carvers there don't have all the same tools I have access to, I'm sure their methods are simpler. I believe that it is also true that some woods are more susceptible to cracking than others.

I enjoy working big. It occurred to me awhile back that I could make a similar instrument by cutting a large log section in half straight down the length of the log, then carving this piece out on the inside, leaving a sort of a "half-cylinder". I imagined mounting this half-cylinder on a thick board to create a base for it. Then I would carve the slits, and finish the drum. Then it came to pass that I cut down a dead walnut tree. When the tree fell, it was revealed that the tree was hollow in a four-foot section at the base of the tree. Normally, this section would have become an ashiko-type drum, but this section had split in two in the course of the tree's falling. So there I had my two half-cylinder pieces, having come right to me! I have dried the two pieces and begun work on them. I'm sure they will make fine slit drums.

I hope you have enjoyed reading about my slit drum adventures! I hope you will be inclined to make your own percussion instruments. Enjoy, Chris Bittner 

Chris Bittner developed an appreciation of wood at an early age, as well as a talent for working with it. Later in life he learned the joys of rhythm and community drumming. In 1999, Chris made his first djembe, when it became magically apparent to him that drum making could be his full time endeavor. And so, DrumWorks was born, in an effort to work at what he loves, and to provide people with the instruments so that they could enjoy rhythm as much as he does.

New Release: "Song for the Whales"

Listen to the soundtrack to my new video "Song for the Whales." "Song for the Whales" is a musical tribute to the whales. Listen to all of my albums on Spotify.