Trarajcica is the first piece I listened to for this posting. It is a piece from the Northern Adriatic area of Croatia and thus I’d would assume what I am hearing is more or less a typical example of the so-called Istrian style. That is, I find it to be polyphonic between two male singers singing in what I believe are minor thirds (though I’m not good at aural skills beyond rhythm). Overall, their timbre seems plaintive while the text and structure of the song might be better characterized as playful.

The beginning of the piece starts with a single male singing but the other quickly joins  for the refrain, which consists mainly of contrasting but simultaneous melodic lines singing variations of, “Dahna-na-na-Nahna-na-na….” in fast triplets. The whole song is sung in syncopated triplet patterns and the two basic parts (I assume verse and refrain) are sung in 14 beat counts and there are five such ‘verses’ and five such ‘refrains.’ The rhythm remains almost completely consistent throughout with the only real variation being in the verses’ text and the refrain’s melodies. The general feel of the pulse throughout is that of a mid-tempo shuffle with a certain ‘heeve-ho’ sensibility to it . The refrain especially causes me to think the song is a playful one as the tone, timbre, and phrasing all make it sound rather jocular, though this is just speculation on my part. Lending credence to this assumption however is the relative technical ease of the song as it operates in a limited range, with limited rhythmic variation and with repetitive phrasing. Personally, I could see a song like this being very comfortably sung in either the field, the public house, or a small celebration as it would be easy to remember but allow enough room for variation (melodically and textually) to match the occassion. It also does not exhibit any overly technical vocal characteristics that might preclude popular usage.

Continuing in this region, the next piece that caught my attention was, in fact, the next piece, which is labelled, Otrgnem rozÌŒicu ruman cvet; Potancu. I am fascinated by this Istrian style of singing. I believe this piece was used in class as an example and I recall it being remarkable for its dissonance and difficult melodic structure. Again, this piece begins with a single line by one man before a second man joins in to help sing. The two men sing in close intervals perhaps minor thirds (again I’m terrible at things like that) but the song overall seems much darker than the previous one. So far as I can discern, the song is meterless or else very loosely metered. I entertain the latter possibility as plausible because such things are somewhat easy to coordinate in small ensembles and also because there is a semblance of rhythmic cooperation  evident in the latter part of the piece when both singers drop out and begin to play aerophone polyphony. As I just noted, halfway through, the song switches to aerophone playing, which is much more reminiscent of the previous piece than the first half of this piece. As to why this is, I don’t really know, the two parts are sharply contrasting, almost separate song really with different characteristics. The first part sounds to me very lamentative, a point that I found interesting in class after listening to the second half. I had a very difficult time figuring out the context such a song; the only time I’ve heard something as similarly dissonant in both its harmonic and melodic development was once in the opening of Akira Kurosawa’s ‘Throne of Blood,’ which is his version of MacBeth. There the similar vocal timbres and dissonances were used to relate a grim parable on human temporality and hubris as an introduction to the film. (Note: it may have been a different movie from the same director) In any case, this song, particularly the contrast between the two parts leaves me thoroughly puzzled and wondering if many such dissonant songs exist in the Istrian region. This begs a futher question, if music may be construed as a reflective lens by which to understand a given culture, then what cultural associations and values might have given rise to such a markedly dissonant form?

Egyptian Kawala

Kawala solo opening madh

Iranian Ney

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HCS15625Yjs&feature=related

Ancient Egyptian End-blown flutes

Sources:

Kawala sound clip from Marcus, Music in Egypt, accompanying CD. Kawala image from http://www.mid-east.com/mmMEM/Images/kwls.jpg.

Ancient Egyptian images from Manniche, Music and Musicians in Ancient Egypt, (1991).

3 May You Live As Long As This Earth (Lab).mp3

The combination of vocal and instrumental polyphonics make this piece’s texture complex and dense. It starts out with what appears to be call and response, but perhaps the opening section serves to lay out the distinct vocal timbre of a few choice soloists before ‘diving’ in to polyrhythmic texture. The male soloist’s voice sounds clear and resonant, whereas the female soloist’s sound carries a more throaty tone, which differs greatly both from the male tone and from previous female vocal examples we have studied such as those in the Rhodope or Shoppe regions of Bulgaria.

When the group singing comes in, I am intrigued by the way that polyphonic singing is layered on top of an already diaphonic texture of melody and movable vocal drone. I wonder if the drone is edited in a studio to practically overpower the simultaneous melodies? Is this a certain asthetic which, like the Shoppe vocal examples we’ve heard, is prized as an important textual element? All parts seem to alternated between straight tone and vibrato, but the male voices, and particularly the drones really accentuate this aspect of vocal texture.

Just like the lyrical song O Bilbil Sakat, Sakat, “May you live as long as this earth” has moments where tension builds and builds, often while holding a unison note with a drone underneath. I find it fascinating that in polyrhythmic contexts which are potentially already tension-inducing for the non-Albanian ear, that the moments of UNISON are actually the most intense, and that it is an emotional release when the song turns back to multi-layered melody.

Comparative Thrace and Shope region female vocal examples:

1 Dva Sa Momi Momuvali (dance song, Pazardzhik, Thrace).mp3

This song, originally from the Thrace region, was recorded by Nadka Karadzhova at 18 years of age (Ethno 209, 10/07/08, from liner notes, Folk Music of Bulgaria). As Thracian music seems to have become the privileged sound aesthetic of Bulgaria, I am curious as to why this music might function as a more convenient avenue for the construction of a dominant soundscape in the Bulgarian state. Where, in the marketing of Folk Ensembles like that of Filip Kutev and others, does this type of song play a role? The light glottal stops and the Bulgarian language tie the song specifically to Bulgaria, as different from surrounding countries. However, because the soloist is singing without accompaniment, there are no instruments that would make reference to a particular region within Bulgaria. Thus, this particular track lends itself to a generalization of musical identity in the country rather than attachment to a specific locality. Furthermore, there are no references to a specific region in the lyrics, and so the song’s scene could be set ‘anywhere’ in Bulgaria. In fact, the “open-air” vocal timbre could even be symbolic of music that sails to distant hilltops and mountains in an idealized rural/pastoralist Bulgaria—the tone of the single female voice uniting the country in sound. This romanticized view of Bulgarian music could be very profitable to record labels such as “The Rough Guide” and “Putamayo” that thrive on such romanticized packaging of ‘world music’.

4 Zhatvarska Pesen (antiphonal harvest song, Sofia).mp3

In contrast, this antiphonal harvest song from the Shope region is unmistakable in its ornamentation, timbral quality, and subject matter, as a song from a specific part of Bulgaria. Perhaps this track would connote more personal imagery and experiences of harvest for people of the Shope region than it would for listeners from other regions. This difference in perception could cause divisions in musical reception—not ideal for the creation of a new pan-folk musical identity in Bulgaria. While the previous example is overtly recognizable as being Thracian, it doesn’t have the same harsh, distinct antiphonal qualities as the harvest song. Therefore, the harvest song might be more difficult to combine with Western-European musical aesthetics of harmony, melody, interval, and timbre. Thus, it is less pre-disposed to “cosmopolitanization”—combining the best of the foreign with the local. The vocal style presented in this harvest song is richly ornamented and a joy to hear.

Commonalities of Macedonian Roma pieces with those listed Turkey

Whenever one is talking about musical traditions on a national scale, and particularly when discussing Roma traditions, which can take such diverse and disparate forms, and comparison or contrast is bound to include sweeping generalizations. That said, I’d like to comment on some of the stylistic differences I noticed between the samples of Turkish and Macedonian Roma music we listened to. After a general comparison, I will focus on some interesting elements of our examples of Macedonian Roma music.

I found that the Macedonian Roma songs, though they provided an exception to every rule one might try to codify, had some tendencies to: 1) have a less Eastern, melismatic sound, 2) have less traditional metering and more inflections on the meter, 3) sound less produced than Turkish Roma music (which is perhaps a relic of cultural osmosis from the popular, slick sound of arabesk pop?), 4) have slower, steadier tempos, and 5) have a lot of similar instrumentation, notably the zurna and the darbuka.

I found the Rom (Gypsy) piece from the Garland Encyclopedia interesting. It had a feeling of being performed by amateurs, or at least in an informal, outdoor setting. The musicians interrupt their playing to laugh and share a comment, perhaps a musical cue between each other. A rik, or something like it, serves as the only instrument to accompany the nasal vocal harmony of the two women and provides the song with a steady pulse.

The Macedonian: Rom (Gypsy dance, cocek), also from the Garland, showcased what I think is an interesting characteristic of the zurna, which has a remarkable ability to create subtle differences in timbre depending on how it is played. With the drone in the background, the zurna’s melodic line took on the sound of 8-bit electronic music. I think this was partly because of the blippy quality of the notes it plays with more vibrato. I have also noticed that the instrument sometimes sounds like a DJ scratching or a guitar solo.

Dzumbus Funk is much more familiar to Western ears and has a fast pace, and familiar to the region, a prominent brass section. The song also borrows improvisational elements from jazz, or perhaps taksim, it’s not important. However, the horns solo over the percussion and because they are in the middle of the piece between the multiple melodic “choruses” of the form they are more reminiscent of jazz than taksim. A characteristic Roma element that the piece includes is a call and response, though it is between instruments and not vocal parts. Finally, the slower section towards the end of the piece seems to be an allusion to more traditional forms.

Here’s an interesting video I found of a performance of a Macedonian Roma song by Guru Jina.

One last note, for religious reasons, I won’t be using electronics for the next two days (until Wednesday night) so I can’t publish the comments people leave until then. However I would like to encourage people to comment anyway, I will get to post it in a couple of days and to give yourself a belt and suspenders you can email Professor Fraser a copy of your comment to let her know it’s in. Hope you enjoyed.

Mike and I found this youtube video. I don’t think it’s the same Kara Toprak that we had in the listening, but it’s still a pretty entertaining ad that combines Mozart with a traditional Turkish song. I think?

01 ud_ Eastern Arab Art Music.mp3
• This track sounds like the soundscape on the inside of a tree : woody, dark, rich, assymetrical, and growing and twisting around itself as it climbs upwards, gradually developing into the full range of the maqam. I hear an improvisational taqasim followed by a more metered compositional part, where the use of percussive instrument like the riqq contribute to the multi-layered musical texture with slightly more structured improvisation.

01 Baglama_ Kara Toprak.mp3
The cycle of repeated chords give this track the feel of a western rock song. In terms of lyrics, the repetition of a basic refrain leaves ess room for improvisation, both in terms of the vocal components and the baglama’s instrumental back-up. Due to its highly repetitions form, this music probably lends itself more favorably to radio and other media which rely on taking small ’sound-bytes’ of music for their programming. In contrast, a form in which requires the full development of a maqam over a longer span of time might be better suited to a more intimate venue. In a smaller performance space, perhaps where food is served, the time spent listening to music becomes part of a larger moment of building and reinforcing community cohesion between audience members and between audience and performers.

Friday September 26

Workshop: Bibbins 238, Conservatory of Music, 4.30-6.30pm, Open to All

Concert/Dance Party: the ‘Sco, 10pm till late. $3 OCID/$6 public

Turli Tava takes its name from the meat and vegetable stew, the Macedonian gumbo, that accordionist/ vocalist Sasho Dukovski ate back home in Bitola. Through that city, along the ancient trade road called the Via Egnatia, history brought waves of travelers and settlers to make the unique cultural blend of Macedonia; the mix that is reflected in Turli Tava’s repertoire. The musicians in the group have been playing for Macedonian and other Balkan communities in North America and in Europe for decades.

Bitola born Sasho Dukovski (accordion/keyboard/vocals) first learned Macedonian music at the knee of his grandfather, a traditional clarinetist, and from his parents, both professional singers in Europe and the US. Sasho’s father’s family is from Bitola and his mother’s family was from Aegean Macedonian. From age seven, he lived in two worlds – Cleveland and Bitola–and soon was performing in both. He graduated from Bitola’s music school and is a veteran of the five-night-a-week hotel and restaurant gigs, weddings, military send-offs, and other private parties that, on a good night, fill Bitola and the surrounding villages with music. He has played with Heraklea, Elita, Pelagoniski Biseri, and many other well known Macedonian groups and also accompanied the vocal duo Selimova/Zhelcheski , Zoran Josifovski, and clarinetist Slave Naumovski.

While still in high school, Sasho began playing with Turli Tava’s clarinetist, Walt “Vlado” Mahovlich (clarinet/sax/gajda), an accomplished multi-instrumentalist in a variety of Eastern European styles and also currently leads the East European folk group Harmonia. Vlado has played for Macedonian and other East European communities since his teenage years. He began playing clarinet originally with traditional musicians who were immigrants from the Lake Prespa region of southwest Macedonia. Early on he seriously studied and began playing the music of the old time Macedonian master clarinetists, particularly the late Kime Nachoff. In the 1970’s he was performing with such noted old-timers as Paul “Spaso” Vangeloff and Chris Athans. He has appeared on concert stages throughout North America and Europe, including performances the Smithsonian’s 1976 bicentennial Festival of American Folklife, Smotra Folklora in Zagreb and at festivals in Sofia and Zlanitite Piasotsi in Bulgaria. He has also frequently taught Macedonian clarinet at summer Balkan Music workshops. All that said, Walt is really in his element playing for dancing late night at Macedonian weddings and vecherinki.

A virtuosic drummer playing tapan and tarabuka, as well as an astonishing master of the tambura, bouzouki and a vocalist, Rumen “Sali” Shopov hails from Gotse Delchev in Pirin Macedonia in Southwest Bulgaria. As concertmaster of the Nevrokopski Folk Ensemble, Bulgaria’s first national folk ensemble, for more than 20 years, he also a led the Pirin region’s two hottest wedding bands: “Shturo Make” and “Orkestar Orbita.” In 2002 Rumen settled in the United States His music captures the incendiary rhythms, and expressive soul of Rumen’s native Turkish-Romani (”Gypsy”)/ Bulgarian musical tradition. Rumen began playing together with Turli Tava in 2004.

Paul Morrissett (bass/tenor horn/kaval/Gajda) is an accomplished player of traditional folk instruments of the Balkans and has played with Walt Mahovlich since 1984. He has traveled the world studying with ethnic masters such as Bulgaria’s most esteemed folk artists: gajda player Kostadin Varimezov and gadulka players Misho Marinov and Atanas Vulchev. With Zlatne Uste Balkan Brass Band and the George Tomov Dance Ensemble Orchestra, Paul has recorded and performed in venues from Lincoln Center to Zagreb, on instruments including kaval, bass, zurla, violin, trumpet, accordion and tamburica. He toured Macedonia with the George Tomov Ensemle and conducts workshops at festivals and the Balkan Music and Dance camps. Paul is also well known as the bass player with the Klezmatics.

Turli Tava’s music is strongly rooted in Macedonian dance traditions; it’s filled with the energy and creative surprise. Rooted, free yet traditional –Turli Tava is bonafide Balkan gumbo!

Berace Oro

Pajdusko Oro

Pavle Mi Pie

Situated at the juncture between Europe and Asia, the Balkan region, with its histories of annexation by the Ottoman and Austro-Hungarian empires and radical political and social changes over the last two decades, is a culturally—and musically—fascinating area to study. With a vivid, and often turbulent, historical record documenting waves of conquest and social, political, economic and cultural domination, the various peoples, groups, institutions, and states of the Balkans have constantly negotiated to assert, redefine and reinvent themselves—often using music to do so. Today, in the shadows of a half-century of socialism; subsequent struggles towards democratization and economic reform; the terrors of ethnic nationalism; and heightened political and religious consciousness of marginalized minorities—for example, among the Rom (“gypsies”), identities are still contested. The process of negotiation between the profits of European identity and the pleasures of the oriental “other” continues.

This site is dedicated to writing about and sharing our experiences interacting with these musics, along with articulating the connections between musical style and socio-cultural meanings; for example, how was music used to express sides during various Balkan wars in the 90s? How can you trace the history of socialism and roads to democratization and economic independence through musical practices in the Balkans? How do the cultural legacies of the Ottoman and Austro-Hungarian empires play out in the musical practices of today?

Blogging here is designed to allow you to reflect on what strikes you as you encounter new (and perhaps very foreign) sounds and to trace how this perspective changes with knowledge about the structure of the musics and the contexts in which they are made. Sound, however, is just one component of music. I want to encourage you to go beyond just writing about sounds in your blogs and assignments, to engage with and reflect on a multimedia form in a multimedia forum. Work to include images, video clips, audio clips, media article etc. in your posts and assignments.

Feel free to also post interesting tidbits (concerts, articles, clips etc) related to the themes and goals of the class as we go alone.