Ahoy hoy. Welcome to the official, patent-pending blog for my 2007-2008 Bristol Fellowship. In late August 2006, I began writing my proposal entitled, "The Art of the Drum." Since then, my itinerary has been slightly modified; therefore, the piece below is not an exact reflection of my upcoming travels. If you would like to get a general understanding of my research, feel free to check out the proposal.
The Art of the Drum: Spirituality in Drum Crafting and the Spiritual Relationship Between the Drummer and the Drum
As a passionate drummer, I would like to explore the art of the drum, with a global perspective: to establish the spiritual process that a craftsman undergoes while building a drum, and to define the intricate spiritual relationship that the drummer has with his drum. The itinerary includes Japan, Fiji, Morocco, Trinidad & Tobago, and the Dominican Republic. These countries represent the major world religions: Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, Christianity, and Taoism.
The material process of crafting a drum is lucid, but what is the spiritual element of drum crafting? With simple research, it is possible to uncover the technique of drum making. Yet, as it is universally understood that music has the potential to have a spiritual essence, how does that spirituality translate to the construction of the instrument? For example, various Hindustani ragas played on the tabla are performed as devotional pieces to various deities within the Hindu pantheon. Through music, the tabla player is attempting to connect with the Divine. This potential transcendence would be impossible without the instrument itself. Therefore, what spiritual exercises, if any, does the tabla crafter perform? Does the craftsman recognize that his product becomes an essential tool for the performer to communicate with the Absolute? Either avenue of response results in intriguing answers: the craftsman may, in fact, conduct various religious rituals prior to beginning the construction of the drum. If this is the case, is it a spiritual process that is guided by a larger religious institution? Are there specific guidelines a religious craftsman must follow? It is also possible that there are unique, familial techniques of crafting drums. Then again, it is entirely feasible that a craftsman has no affiliation with a religious order; and therefore, merely creates the instrument as a means of livelihood.
After the drum is built, it is passed on to the musician. I would like to investigate the spiritual relationship between the drummer and his instrument. What, exactly, does this relationship, between the drummer and the drum, consist of? To the musician, is the drum a direct manifestation of the Divine, or simply a tool to reach a stage of musical, and thus spiritual, transcendence? How does the religious drummer show reverence for his drum? To what extent does spiritual training compliment or enhance purely “musical” training? In what ways does the drummer directly participate in religious ceremonies?
My preliminary research indicates that drum crafting and drummers are overwhelmingly male professions. My pronouns reflect that research; however, I plan to be alert for the presence of women in those professions and observe the similarities and differences in their roles.
The field research itself will consist of the following components: conducting interviews with craftsman and drummers; visiting drum craft shops; and, attending religious ceremonies and festivals. The itinerary was developed with the underlying desire to define and explore the similarities and differences of approaches to the spirituality of drum crafting, and the relationship between the player and the drum.
JAPAN
For six weeks, I will live in Kyoto, the music capital of Japan, a city laden with temples and a rich musical history. Taiko drumming is performed at temples during various Taoist rituals. The Taiko drumming school at Kyoto City University of Arts has many established alumni, including Taiko master Joji Hirota. Mr. Hirota already has given me the contact information of his personal drum crafter. Further, I have been in contact with Judith Mitoma, a Professor of World Arts and Cultures at the University of California, Los Angeles, and the director of the Center for Intercultural Performance and the World Festival of the Sacred Music, two organizations that emphasize spirituality and religion in music. It is also advantageous to begin my field research in Kyoto because Gion Matsuri, an annual festival, occurs during the month of July; and, the festival would provide me the opportunity to observe drummers in public performance. The festival originated as a religious ritual of self-purification, but has evolved to have several different religious connotations. This urban and academic environment result in a minimal language barrier, as English is spoken throughout the city and even more so on the Kyoto City University of Arts campus. Nonetheless, I recognize that certain situations will necessitate the use of a translator.
For the remaining six weeks, I will spend time on Sado Island to study the craftsmen behind the Kodo drummers, who perform a style that is a similar to Taiko drumming. The Kodo drums are enormous, comparable in size to the Western timpani, and constructed from hollowed tree trunks. On Sado Island, I have already established several contacts, including three Kodo drummers in particular – Ryutaro Kaneko, Eiich Saito and Tomohiro Mitome – who hold frequent seminars on the construction and playing of the Kodo drums. I also have been in contact with Mr. Yasuhiko Ishihara, the program director of the Kodo Cultural Foundation the city of Iwakubi.
FIJI
There are two compelling factors that draw this research to Fiji: the presence of indigenous folk music and Hindustani music on the islands. Although much of Fijian folk music is vocally driven, the music also is known for its complex percussion arrangements that include the slit drum and the lali. Traditionally, the lali, a drum that essentially is built from a hollowed tree trunk, is used to announce social events, such as weddings, births, and deaths. In one indigenous ritual, the lali is used to communicate with deceased ancestors. The lali ni meke is smaller model of the lali, and is played in Fijian folk music. Clearly, the Fijian music community is rich with drummers and drum crafters, and is an important facet of various religious ceremonies throughout the islands.
The Hindu diaspora in the Fiji Islands represents an equally compelling reason to choose Fiji. According to the CIA World Factbook, Indo-Fijians represent 44% of the overall population; further, 38% of all Fijians are practicing Hindus, making Hinduism the second largest religion of the Fiji Islands. Therefore, Hindustani music is an important aspect of Fijian culture. Within the Hindu community of Fiji, there are many tabla and dholak crafters.
I will divide my time on the Fiji Islands between Viti Levu and Tavenui. Viti Levu is the largest island of Fiji and has a predominately Indo-Fijian population. Taveuni, in contrast, is almost three-fourths Fijian; and thus, more representative of the indigenous Fijian population. I anticipate minimal language barriers while conducting field research, as English is the official language of the Fiji Islands. Further, Hindi is widely spoken throughout the Indo-Fijian communities, which is advantageous as I am familiar with the language, as I have studied in India. It is ideal to conduct my research on the Fiji Islands in the fall, as the South Pacific Music Festival is held every November on Vanua Levu, the second largest island of Fiji. The festival features both international and local musicians. As Fijian music is inclusive of both the indigenous folk music and traditional Hindustani music, the Fiji Islands offer a unique perspective of drumming and drum crafting.
MOROCCO
The drumming of Morocco has roots in the indigenous civilization of the Berbers, the foreign influence of Arabs, and intercontinental influence of Southern Spain. Through centuries of hybridization, this trinity of influence has converged into the Moroccan drumming of today. There is a vast range of drum and percussion instruments in Northern Africa. The tabla is one of the more common drums of Morocco; however, the Northern African tabla, which originated in Egypt, differs from the Indian tabla, in that it is a single drum, rather than a pair.
In Morocco, I will base my research in Casablanca; there are many opportunities to interview drummers and craftsmen, as the city has many mosques and drum shops. Chafchaouen will be another point of interest, as there is a strong presence of Andalusian classical music; in fact, the annual Andalusian Music Festival is held there. Andalusian classical music is a fusion of Berber music and Southern Spanish music. Beginning in the 13th Century, Spanish Muslims, often of Berber decent, returned to Northern Africa, due to the peril of the Inquisition, bringing back Andalusian classical music, and the darboula, or goblet drum. Although Arabic and Berber are the two predominant languages of Morocco, Spanish is major language of the region. As I am a Hispanic Studies major, and have lived in Seville, Spain, I will not encounter a language barrier. I am fully confident that between Spanish and English, I will encounter minimal, if any, language barriers.
TRINIDAD & TOBAGO
My research will continue in Trinidad & Tobago for eight weeks to study the crafting of the steel drum. This instrument originally was made from a 55-gallon oil drum in the 1940s, and now is a staple of Caribbean music. An impressive number of Trinidad and Tobagans are practicing Spiritual Baptists, a hybrid of Christianity and West African religions. Like Voodou, Spiritual Baptism utilizes drums and percussion in religious ceremonies. Music is prominent in both Spiritual Baptism and Voodou, two of the most practiced religions in Trinidad and Tobago. Soca, an indigenous music of Trinidad & Tobago that fuses Afro-Caribbean Calypso with Indian Hindustani music, is another important genre of music on the island.
I will center my research in Trinidad & Tobago in the capital city, the Port of Spain. The steel drum first was built in the Port of Spain, and the city remains the steel drum capital of world. I also will spend a portion of time in San Fernando to see if that city offers a different perspective in the crafting of the steel drum.
DOMINICAN REPUBLIC
To conclude the fellowship, I will go to the Dominican Republic to study the drums and drummers of meringue. The percussion section of meringue music includes maraca shakers and the tambora drum, an instrument brought to the Dominican Republic by African slaves. Unlike many drums, the tambora, crafted from oak and animal skin, is played on both sides. Within meringue music, the güira is another popular percussion instrument. The crafting of the güira demonstrates its simplicity: it is constructed from scrap sheet metal into a cylinder (or, ideally, from using an old five-gallon oil can), and is played with a fork. Meringue was born out of the slums of the Dominican Republic; thus, explaining the simplicity and pedestrian nature of the crafting of the güira. Still, because the güira symbolizes a truly indigenous creation, I believe there will be an intriguing process behind its craft.
I will base my field study in Santo Domingo, the capital of the Dominican Republic, for the reason that it is the largest city, and thus, will have a depth of drummers and craftsmen who I can interview. In addition, I also will venture to Santiago, the second-largest city of the Dominican Republic, to visit the locally famous drum shop, Drums.
CONCLUSION
There are two dimensions of this fellowship: the spiritual essence of crafting a drum, and the spiritual relationship that the drummer has with his drum. The underlying theme of the research is how a drum can be tool to connect with the Divine. I do not seek to compare religious music of the world; but rather, the spiritual nature of the drum itself. The reasoning behind my itinerary is twofold. Primarily, I have chosen five distinct cultures that, in turn, should result in a diverse set of answers to my proposed questions. Secondly, I have chosen countries in which this research is feasible. English is a commonly used language in Trinidad & Tobago and Fiji, due to tourism. Spanish is widely spoken in Northern Africa, and of course, the official language of the Dominican Republic. This ensures that communication will not impede my research.
One of the advantages of this projected research is that my interviews and studies of individual drum craft shops can be conducted with any drum craftsman or drummer. This allows a tremendous degree of flexibility within my fieldwork. Because music is embedded in each of the cultures of the countries that I will be surveying, and specifically the music of drums and percussion, there will not be a shortage of resources for my research.
I anticipate that many craftsmen and drummers will declare that the art of the drum – that is the perfection of the instrument – is impossible without reverence. If a drum is to be used to connect with the Creator, piety is mandatory in the workshop and on the stage. That being said, I also firmly believe that some craftsmen and performers will declare no such religious or spiritual affiliation. Further, a third approach is possible: with families of a strong lineage of drum crafting or drum performing, there may be individual familial tenets of the craft. Accordingly, I am eager to discover which of my hypotheses are correct, and more importantly, what is unexpected.
PERSONAL REFLECTION
Even the heart provides a beat.
One of the most vivid memories of my childhood is when my family went to a performance of the Kodo drummers in New York City. Everything, from the magnificent size of the drums to the unbridled audacity of the drummers themselves, was overwhelming. I was engulfed in a sea of sound. Because I was too young to appreciate the art, the drums produced a cacophony, rather than symphony; yet, I was fascinated.
I began to study drums in the Fifth Grade, playing in the school band and orchestra. In the Eighth Grade, I started private lessons with a jazz drummer, John Cutrone. While attending Hamilton College, I have studied under a local drummer, Jim Johns. Beginning in high school, drums became my foremost passion. I will be the first to admit that drums are the absolute worst instrument to fall in love with, because of the limitations that come with playing them. A drummer cannot practice with ease. It is impossible for a drummer to play in a college dorm or apartment, as it is a blatant noise violation. This year, I have been fortunate that the Music Department has given me a locker to store my drum kit. There are soundproof rooms (well, almost) that I can use anytime. My practice routine is as follows: I move my equipment from my locker to the music room, assemble it, play for three to six hours, dissemble it, move it back to the locker. During my Freshman and Sophomore years, every time that I practiced, I would have to get my car, make multiple trips moving my drums from my room to my car, then proceed with the process described above. Yes, there are many days that I wish I played the flute. But, if I could do it all over again, I’d still choose to play drums.
As I’ve practiced more and more over the years, I have learned to appreciate truly wonderful sounding drums and drummers. Whenever listening to a new a record, I first hear the rhythm that the drummer is playing. Then, I tune my ear to the sound of the drum itself: what sort of drum kit is the drummer playing on? Is it a large kit, with an indistinguishable number of drums and cymbals? Or, is it a modest, four-piece drum set? The drums are the backbone of all music, and the snare drum is the heart beat of the drum kit. As the snare is the most distinguishable drum, I admire the craftsmanship of a snare drum according to its sound and aesthetics.
Sometimes I have to sit on my hands in order to stifle my never-ending urge to tap my hands to the beat in my head. I hate silence. Whenever I leave my room, my sound system always is the last thing I turn off. I have an eclectic musical taste: I will listen to just about anything, providing that there is a level of musicianship in the music. While I admit that my record player favors Western artists, such as George Harrison, John Coltrane, or Paul Simon, I thoroughly enjoy listening to “world” music. (I think the name “world music” is, well, silly, as music is not limited to or created from a single part of the world. Music is, and always will be, from everywhere. Perhaps that’s the problem with labeling an abstract art in the first place). Regardless, the most beautiful aspect of music is that it is as diverse as the world itself: every culture contributes a unique style to music, from the sound played to the instruments used. I am particularly fond of fusion music, when musicians from different cultures create a single musical force.
I love listening to non-Western percussion. Like different genres of music, instruments too can represent an international spectrum of ideas. As a drummer, it is remarkable to think of the diversity of drums and percussion. The difference between the double-bass, massive drum kit of Keith Moon, the drummer of The Who, and the two-piece tabla of Zakir Hussain, the tabla maestro from Shakti, is almost incomparable; yet, both men are drummers and provide rhythm for their respective music.
The duality of music often is underappreciated: first, music can transcend cultural and geographical boundaries and differences, thus uniting foreign people and ideas to one another. I believe that fusion music can create an inter-spiritual connection among people. Secondly, on the personal level, music can transport the self into a higher plane of being. I never feel more alive than when I am playing a flawless groove on my kit. Music breeds happiness. As one of my musical idols Bradley Nowell of Sublime once sang, “Smile if you got the beat / That’s all you need.” Haven’t you ever listened to a song for the first time and just smiled, either because the beat and melody sounds so good, or you are dazzled by the skill of the musicians?
On “Sir Duke,” an homage to the great musicians of the Twentieth Century, Stevie Wonder sings, “Music is a world within itself / With a language we all understand / With an equal opportunity / For all to sing, dance and clap their hands.” What draws me to music is its universality. Language, the foremost means of communication, is confined by geographical and cultural boundaries; if one were to take two of individuals from two different locations in the world, it is likely that these two people will be unable to communicate with one another through speech. Nevertheless, everyone understands the language of music. Each culture has a distinct method of composition and employment of instruments, and thus an individual sound; yet, even when one listens to music from another culture, he knows it is music that he is listening to. Words can only tell so much; and, the song can evoke far greater emotion.
As I have spent three semesters abroad – in London, Northern India and Seville – I have always made an effort to learn something about the local music scene. For me, only part of traveling is to see different geographical regions of the world. I am more interested in understanding the diversity of cultures and people.
My proposal is inspired by a directed field study I completed in India in the Fall of 2005. That research was on the reaction of Hindustani musicians to Western pop musicians using Hindustani elements in their commercial, non-spiritual music. Some Hindustani musicians were adamant that fusion music – a genre that hybridizes Western pop rock with Indian classical religious music – is an impious bastardization of the ancient religious art of Hindustani music. Further, many Hindustani musicians did not understand how Western artists could create music without any sign of reverence. One opponent of fusion music, Pandit Uttam Daas, declared, “Music is nothing without God.” Yet, other Hindustani musicians embraced the concept of fusion music, saying that it merely reflects an age of a globalized world. I was fortunate to conduct several interviews with an Indian Hindu classical and fusion artist, Grammy-award winner, Vishwa Mohan Bhatt. Pandit Bhatt, a disciple of Ravi Shankar and close friend of the late George Harrison, affirmed, “Fusion is natural progression of all music.” During an interview with Vishwa’s son, Salil, who also is an accomplished Hindustani and fusion musician, explained to me that the musician’s instrument is a direct manifestation of the Hindu Goddess of Music, Saravati. When Salil explained to me how he treats his instrument with unwavering reverence, the initial idea for this fellowship was born.
This grant would provide me with a tremendous opportunity to refine my academic and personal interests into a singular focus of religion and spirituality in music and instrument construction. With this focus, I would be able to continue my higher education in a graduate school program to study the religious elements in ethnomusicology. I am fortunate to have lived in two environments where English is not the dominant language, India and Spain; and therefore, I am comfortable living abroad. Further, and most importantly, this research reflects a union of my foremost non-academic passion, drums, and my academic interests, religion and foreign languages.
But above all, I simply want to meet other people, who, just like me, have a profound passion for drums and percussion. There is so much to be learned from other drummers from other cultures, and this fellowship would provide me with the perfect medium to do so.
