english interviews and articles
to hear what they sound like together are rare. Smith and Mori
have played a handful of concerts in New York, and one more apiece
in Portugal and Bosnia. And Mori appears on two duet tracks on
Smith's CD "Luminous Axis," which came out in 2002 on Zorn's Tzadik
Creating music that's never the same twice
The last time the avant-garde trumpeter and
Leo Smith performed in Boston was 17 years ago, when
he played a 1988 duet set with the late, great drummer
Ed Blackwell. So maybe it's fitting that his return visit tomorrow night, for
a Boston Creative Music Alliance concert at the Institute of Contemporary Art,
will involve only Smith and percussion
This time around, though, the percussion will come from the laptop computer
of Ikue Mori, best known for her work with cuttingedge types such as Arto Lindsay
and John Zorn. And Smith, too, will be accessing electronic effects via his horn.
does have an electronic feel to it:' says Smith, 63, by phone
from his California home. "But I would say it's much warmer
than most electronic music. And it's creative, meaning that
when we step on the stage we dont have a note in mind, we don't
have a rhythm in mind. All we have in mind is that we're going
to take this score, or we're going make a collaborative improvisation,
and we go from there,"
All of this is done without
rehearsal. "If they know the language," Smith says, improvising
musicians "are able to engage with each other in a very intriguing
way and come up with something that's quite brilliant. And, in
fact, quite heroic, to tell you the truth."
language to which Smith refers is Ankhrasmation, the name he
has given to the distinctive method of music notation he has
been developing since his days in Chicago in the late '60s
and early '70s with Muhal Richard Abrams, Anthony Braxton,
and other forward-looking cohorts in the legendary AACM, or
Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians
The word Ankhrasmation,
explains Smith, was derived by splicing together the ancient Egyptian
word for "vital life force" ('Ankh"), the Amharic word for "head" or "father" ("Ras"),
and a universal word for mother: "Ma." ("Wadada" in case you're
wondering, is the Amharic word for "love.")
practice, Ankhrasmation uses symbols to sketch out a roadmap
for improvisation. A composition including the symbol "orange," for
example, would require Smith and Mori to have thought deeply
about how they could musically reference all aspects of "orange" -
not just the color, but the fruit and its myriad characteristics
as well. Then they take those reference points and improvise
on them. No two times through a Smith composition are the same.
made a work of art out of it," says Smith, "you cant repeat
it. That's the kind of excitement that this kind of language
houses, and for me, that's very important, because it keeps
Mori, via e-mail, agrees.
"Following the Ankhrasmation method is like following the map of the cosmic journey
with Wadada or something;' she explains. "It's not like free improvisation with
others, because of the events you have to create [to] express the color and-
shape in a certain time. But ultimately the form of the music we create is very
intuitive, and anything could happen during the journey. I preprogram and prepare
some sounds and patterns with my computer and manipulate and recombine them live."
Mori has approached Ankhrasmation and the research it entails
more thoroughly than anyone else he has worked with. "This
woman is the best in the world" he enthuses. "And creatively
she matches anything that I can do or anybody else can do."
high praise coming from Smith, whose main working bands of
late have been the two incarnations of his Golden Quartet,
the first of them an all-star ensemble including Anthony Davis
on piano, Malachi Favors on bass, and Jack DeJohnette on drums.
After the death of Favors last year, -Smith revamped the quartet
to include Vijay Iyer on piano, John Lindberg on bass, and
Ronald Shannon Jackson on drums.
" Let's say the other quartet
was like John the Baptist," says Smith, laughing. "This quartet
is like Jesus Christ. I mean, if I can use a metaphor like that."
Smith claims to find the new contingent even more exciting than its predecessor,
mostly because it adds electronics to the earlier groups all-acoustic mix.
that, Smith recorded last year's CD "Lake Biwa with his Silver
Orchestra - Smith's trumpet, Zorns saxophone, tuba, two basses,
three drummers, and a rotating cast of four pianists - and
he has a new trio in the works, called Blue Carbon, with Jackson
again on drums and Braxton's son Tyondai on electronically
processed guitar and voice.
This is all squeezed around
Smith's professorial duties at California Institute of the Arts,
where he has taught for I I years - the first five as the Dizzy
Gillespie chair in jazz studies and since then in a program of
his own design
in African-American improvisational music.
this may seem far removed from Smith's early days growing up
in Mississippi and hitting the road as a teenager with blues
great Little Milton. But don't be so sure. Just last spring
he taught a seminar on the blues, delving deeply into the work
of Charlie Patton, Son House, and Blind Lemon Jefferson.
" I listen to the blues
all the time," Smith says. "I think that the blues is the most
fundamental notion about freedom. And it also has the deepest
commitment toward improvisation."
Yo, Wadada! Leo Smith's Long Pilgrimage
by Howard Mandel
"When I went to Chicago in 1967
-- after five years in six Army bands -- I had already thought
about what I wanted to do in music," says Wadada Leo Smith, the
trumpeter, composer, and philosopher whose insightful, alternative
vision of sound, spirit, and society is now, finally, gaining
its fair share of attention. "I arrived with an armload of music
for improvisers and also for contemporary ensembles. When I got
there, very few people were doing those kinds of things. But immediately,
when I opened up the bag and showed people what I had, things
got roughed up. All around and straight across, you know."
All across, straight around, up
and out or down and in, Mississippi-born and (as of last February)
Mecca-bound Smith truly has remained consistent -- from the first
recording of his own music, "The Bell," on Anthony Braxton's Three
Compositions of New Jazz (Delmark) 35 years ago through the
2002 release by his Golden Quartet, The Year of the Elephant
(Pi). This is far from saying he's always sounded the same, although
Smith has an identifiable tone: larger, deeper, fuller and more
burnished than one might justifiably expect from the physically
slight and temperamentally self-contained man, now 63.He also
possesses an articulated, detailedway with along gliss, and takes
exceptional liberties with phrasing, resulting in unpredictably
structured solos. Indeed, since emerging from the horn section
of rhythm 'n' blues bands (such as the crack troupe that backed
Little Milton Campbell on his Chess recordings) into the forefront
of Chicago's Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians
and on to unusual success in academia, Smith has been a natural
individualist and iconoclast, never going along with any crowd
for the riches or the ride, seldom doing a thing that could be
considered typical even among the atypical brethern of the avant
The stepson of Delta bluesman
Little Bill (Alex) Wallace, Smith rejected Little Milton's late
'60s invitation to be the well-paid straw-boss of his road band
because he didn't like to travel -- and instead flew off to Europe
for a year with Braxton, violinist Leroy Jenkins and drummer Steve
McCall (they recorded in Paris for BYG/Actuel). Upon his return
to the States in 1970, instead of heading back to Chicago or throwing
himself on New York (despite a successful Manhattan stand with
Braxton, Jenkins, McCall, pianist Muhal Richard Abrams and bassist
Richard Davis as the Creative Construction Company, whose concerts
were recorded on two LPS issued by Muse) Smith settled in New
Haven, Connecticut, where he became mentor to a heretofore unknown
black and tan coterie of experimentalists including pianist Anthony
Davis, vibist Bobby Naughton, reedist Dwight Andrews, and bassist
An early proponent of self-production,
whose hard-to-find albums on his Kabell label are scheduled for
re-release in a four CD box this spring by John Zorn's Tzadik
imprint, Smith also recorded uncompromisingly for ECM, bringing
together fellow trumpeters Lester Bowie and Kenny Wheeler on the
album Divine Love. His timbral experiments have extended
to one composition -- dedicated to Braxton -- for his trumpet
and five harps (recorded on Spirit Catcher, Nessa). He's certainly
the only Wesleyan University-trained ethnomusicologist, former
Rastafarian and currently devout Muslim to have collaborated with
British guitar phenomenologist Derek Bailey in Company, German
bassist Peter Kovald and drummer Gunter Sommer in a trio of their
own, and players including the late Glenn Horiuchi employing traditional
Asian instruments in N'Da Kulture, a music/poetry group (Smith's
wife Harumi recited in English and Japanese).
In the late '80s Wadada instituted
what has become a de facto AACM chair of music instruction at
New York's Bard College (currently held by drummer Thurman Barker),
and since 1993 he's held the Dizzy Gillespie chair on the music
faculty of California Institute of the Arts. No other African-American
horn players of Smith's generation had the interest or gumption
to revisit the early '70s electric repertoire of Miles Davis,
as Smith did with Left Coast adventurers Henry Kaiser, Niles Cline,
Lukas Ligeti, the ROVA Sax Quartet, Paul Plimley and John Medeski
(among others) on the '98 two CD set Yo Miles!, and a still-unreleased
third volume. No one but Smith would be able to assemble a Golden
Quartet comprising Anthony Davis, bassist Malachi Favors, and
drummer Jack DeJohnette -- all of whom live in different cities,
and have enjoyed less total rehearsal time than they've spent
in the studio, recording.
Quietly, for a brassman, Smith
has pursued a single goal since, as he says, he first "picked
up pen and trumpet, at the same time, to compose. I started to
compose not knowing what note was there to be composed of. I was
12 yrs old." Smith's quest from then on has been to explore and
explicate his personal esthetic principles, which circa 1977 he
dubbed Ankhrasmation. Through what he describes as a simultaneously
symbolic and systematic approach, Smith reconstrues the hierarchy
of Western harmony, motion and melody as well as processes of
composition and improvisation, much in the way Ornette Coleman
has conceived of his own grand unification theory, harmolodics.
Unfortunately, in our relatively brief though engaging and wide-ranging
conversation, Smith demonstrated that Ankhrasmation, like harmolodics,
eludes description or definition.
"Ankhrasmation music uses no pictures
of notes, no designs of notes; it's a symbolic interpretation
of what's there. It is a way of making music that has a little
bit of both improvisation and composition inside it, but it's
an entirely different thing because it's all symbolic," he explained.
Or did he?
"I'm the guy that's the loner,"
Smith began over the phone from his home on the outskirts of Los
Angeles. "I've always been a loner. I went to New Haven for the
same reason. By that I mean: I spend my time contemplating how
to do this [make music], and researching how to put it together.
You can do that in a small or semi-rural town like I've been living
in for the last 10 or 12 years. You can do those kinds of things
and not be disturbed by going across the planet to play every
gig that a human being might offer you. At first it may seem weird,
you feel a little bit odd because you're not doing that, but once
you start to research, once you start finding all these systems,
these ways of looking at things and doing things in all these
different contexts, the pleasure is there in not doing that."
The infrequency of Smith's personal
appearances, along with the imperturbably personal quality of
his recordings during the past 35 years, has lent the trumpeter
an aura of mysterious charisma. He believes scarcity makes the
ears grow more open; at least, so it seems to work between him
and his fans.
"When my guys hear me once every
year or every two or three years, they all come up to me and say,
'Wow, that was very different or very fresh; I haven't heard anything
like that,'" Smith asserted with some pride. "And that tells me
it was the right choice [not to globetrot], even though that wasn't
my choice originally. It was forced on me by circumstance."
What circumstance was that?
"I couldn't buy a gig!" he burst
out laughing. Can it really be that no one wanted to hire a musician
who'd held his own with Kalaparusha Ara Difda, Muhal Richard Abrams,
Henry Threadgill, et al? "Well, I was always taught by people
I respected that if one door doesn't open, you go to another door.
That door I opened was research. And I'm telling you, that's the
second best thing I did, other than picking up the trumpet and
To Smith, the trumpet, the pen,
and music research were tools to use to shape the world more to
his liking as far back as 1970. "When I was in Paris with Anthony
Braxton, a foreigner in an exotic country -- well, that's nice
sometimes, and I enjoyed it," he said. "But American music is
a whole cultural phenomenon, not something that's created in a
vacuum. And the cultural environment in the U.S. is deep.
"It was exciting at that time,
how music interacted in a social way to exact change in society.
Freedom is something we were after in both the social and esthetic
moment. Musically, freedom served as a model for whoever could
grasp it. Of course, socially we failed -- most obviously in the
area of human rights, because power and wealth still control how
people with with each other. Enron is an example of how the old
type of culture has prevailed. But artists can use their visions
to transform society by getting people to see ordinary stuff anew,
and open up. The artist is a mediator who helps people see things
in new ways, and can also serve as a moral visionary.
"Basically, human beings -- all
of us including artists -- have such a problem every day of waking
up and getting through the routines, getting by as safely as we
can. When art comes into our lives, it can cause those routines
to be seen as extraordinary, even though they don't change. They
remain the same, but we see them in a different light because
art comes from a place no one's ever been before.
"For example, when a writer writes
about a tree or a character, that's an idea that's being translated
into another medium. When the artist looks out of himself or herself
and sees this other dimension that's actually old and that needs
to be stirred up and made new again, they trigger some sort of
reaction from the social spectrum, and that reaction becomes the
dimension that the artist works in. It's like if I'm picking up
garbage it's the same thing. I help to clean the environment,
I help keep it clean from germs, and it actually affects the environement
to have a good guy who picks up the garbage."
Smith believes such a "good guy"
can be effective even if he or she has a fairly limited audience.
"Let me give you an example,"
he offered. "Take the early prophets. If you judge by the numbers
of people they originally reached, many of them look like they
were failures. But not so, because in the long run, their influence
was accumulative. It had a long span to it. And all humanity is
like that. The truth is that though we have different initiatives
and different blood types, we're actually just one species, and
our culture, our civilization is given in trust to us from each
generation that that came before. So teachings are accumulative.
Eventually those people that looked like they were actually failures
because they had achieved very little in terms of numbers in their
lifetimes, in the long run they come to look like they amount
to a lot. Say Henry David Thoreau. Walden Pond may not look like
much, but his writings inspires people all over the world, continuously."
What is Smith's Walden Pond? Yo
Miles! is the album that probably reached his largest audience
so far. On it, Smith knowingly applied himself to the most enduringly
popular and inimitable of modern jazz's trumpet stylists -- evidently
without any hesitation at all.
"I've been getting with the spirit
of not actually caring about things because I've not had to care
about them," he confided. "I've thought about them so I don't
have to care about them. That means this: When I agreed to play
Miles Davis music, Henry Kaiser sent me all kinds of tapes and
CDs. Frankly, I listened casually to the CDs maybe once, because
I'd heard them before and I didn't need to listen to them again.
My thrust was to be creative in the studio. My intention wasn't
to make a transcription of Miles Davis's music, my intention was
to approach it in a fresh and much more open way than possibly
Henry and the others did. Meaning that I didn't have to rely on
the same kind of restrictions that they did. With that music,
it was a joy to be in the studio, learn the piece, and then try
to make it. What I did was a favor, and as a respect for Miles
Davis, I tried to intertwine little moments of his music inside
the music that I was doing. That's a kind of respect thing.
"You see, I'd listened to his
music very carefully when I was coming up. Kind of Blue was one
of the first records I had, and I listened to it very carefully,
so I saw how he constructed his music, just like I also saw how
other people like Booker Little and Clifford Brown constucted
theirs. But their music was very different than Miles'. They had
more of a vertical thing in their music. Miles had more of a horizontal
thing. It was more akin to Louis Armstrong's discoveries."
Smith claimed that he, too, is
a descendant of Pops.
"That's the thing everybody has
missed in my music," he said. 'That doesn't mean I'm sounding
like him but the deepest influence on me is the process of how
the air thrust goes into the mouthpiece. Louis Armstrong had a
very powerful air thrust, and so did Miles Davis, and so does
Wadada Leo Smith. Very few people have that. That's what develops
tone -- the difference between how your diaphragm is fixed, and
how it projects or missiles the air through your chops through
the mouthpiece. That's what I learned most from Louis Armstrong:
How you use power and range and stamina. And the other part: the
ability to execute very sharp and clear.
"You mentioned my interest in
tone, timbre: That's that air thrust. It really is. The tone is
a composite. and if the air thrust is mighty and powerful, it
has a lot of elements that go into the composite. If it's a kind
of a European tone -- and I don't mean that in any derogatory
way, I mean that purely in terms of the way they make music, where
it's done without any pressure -- a small part of the embouchure
is used to make it. With big air thrust you have to use a wider
area of your embouchure, so you have the option of great contrast
and great flexibility.
"Don Cherry had a small air thrust,
but what saved him and made him so beautiful was his ideas. Dizzy
[Gillespie], he dissipated his composite, he put part of it in
his cheeks, but the air thrust has to be like a missile. It can't
go several directions then finally come to you; it has to come
directly from the diaphram, straight up and straight out.
"Wynton [Marsalis] is a great
trumpet player, a marvelous trumpet player, with a lot of European
in him. He's learned to play jazz well, in a traditional form,
just like he learned to play traditional classical music. Both
of them are learned phenomena for him. I admire the fact he's
done so well, musically. I'd say he's carved out some kind of
legacy for himself in that context. I'd say he's akin to a European
mind. He plays with almost a smile. If you look at Louis Amrstrong.
Miles Davis and me, we ain't smiling when we're playing."
And yet, all three are in some
sense having big fun. Making music their own ways, doing what
they want.Despite Smith's glee in the project, purist devotees
of the trumpeter may feel that Yo Miles! represents something
of a co mpromise for their hero; that his originality is overwhelmed
by the indelible associations of the compositions' original recordings
and the highly amplified surroundings in which his horn is set.
To Smith aficionados, his Golden Quartet's The Year of the
Elephant better represents the man's simultaneously bold and
mysterious essence. One can listen to it again and again, yet
the music remains tantalizing, just beyond reach, challenging
comprehension. Smith himself rejoices in theoverall achievement
level of his Golden Quartet, debuted with an eponymous recording
on Tzadik, having begun life as a drummerless trio also recorded
"This band is dealing with my
language," he exulted. "They come together to do that, and each
makes a great contribution to do that and not really be dealing
with their own concepts at all. That 's intentional, because when
we made the band the idea was to have Wadada Leo Smith's Golden
Quartet, to explore the things that I'm doing -- an experiment
originally to see where it would go. It went someplace where it
was not only pleasing but shattering for me. For the first time
in 40 some years my music was played not only at the highest technical
level but also at the most creative level. And so as a result
of that, my 2003 New Year's resolution was to play more music,
perform more often, with this band.
"One way to do that is to include
a subsittute drummer sometimes . I mean, I'm so happy that this
band plays my music on the level that it does, I don't want no
other band. I've decided to keep the band together as long as
I'm alive. But I use the Modern Jazz Quartet as a model, 'cause
look, we've only been able to take like 40 per cent of the gigs
we've been offered. Jack's busy, and we need a subsitute drummer
Who does he have in mind?
"This will knock you out," Smith
predicted. "Ronald Shannon Jackson. He's already approved the
idea. He's living down in Texas, and that's beautiful, because
none of us live in the same town, and I think that's the most
ideal way to have a band. Then, when you come to a rehearsal,
the musicians accept it as a higher calling, because they don't
play together all the time. They also have a deep desire to not
be the guy who let the band down. The respect is pretty high.
The music that Shannon will bring in from his music , that will
really be exciting. My dream for the next record is to have a
couple pieces with Shannon on them, as well as pieces with Jack."
It's not that he has any desire
to replace DeJohnette. "I met Jack in Chicago through Muha, the
summer before I went to Paris," Smith remembered. " Muhal called
me and said 'Jack DeJohnette is coming over, do you want to hang
out with us?' And I said 'Yes.' He said, 'Bring your trumpet.'
Which I was going to do anyway. I brought my trumpet. and we hung
out and talked a little bit and then lo and behold we started
playing. Jack taped it, by the way. And I'm telling you, it was
the first time I played with a drummer who had a sensibility where
I didn't feel like counting, I didn't have to feel like I was
going to go this way or that way, everything came very naturally.
And in the back of my head I started dreaming that I was going
to play with this guy one day in the context of my music. We tried
many times before the Golden Quartet happened. There were record
companies that were so excited about us playing together they
could hardly talk. ECM -- Manfred [Eicher] was so excited he didn't
know what to do. But what ended up happenening was something would
break down. Communications would break down. "
Not any more.
"Jack, he's the one in my Golden
Quartet who hears everything very clearly," Smith said. "He'll
listen when we're rehearsing, and if he hears something peculiar,
he'll make a comment on it. He'll say, 'This point here, let's
check this point out.' [Anthony] Davis, he started out at a very
young age when he saw me on a street corner in New Haven and came
up and said he knew who I was, could be play with me -- so he's
at the roots of what's happening with the ban d. And Malachi,
I've known him since Chicago. So we have a kind of organic organization
in the Golden Quartet. We work everything out in rehearsal, but
we've only had 10 hours of rehearsal, total."
Though he downplayed the effort,
there was a lot to work out. "Pieces like 'Harumi' [from the Tzadik
CD] and 'Piru' [on The Year of the Elephant] : all through
my career I've had a great lyrical expression of what we would
call slow pieces, but not ballads. Those two were without harmonic
progression of any sort, they were all dependent on what came
out and how the response or reaction occurred during those moments.
Look at 'Harumi,' which came first: the way that's constructed
is it has a harmonic progression to it, but it's not an absolute
progression. in other words, it goes from one end to the next,
but the player doesn't have to to play from one end to the next,
because the player is often asked to make a new harmonic progression
that interchanges with that old one that's right there, and also
to ecclipse it entirely and go somewhere else. The four players
can do this independently.
"Then the melody determines the
reoccurence and renetrance of certain instruments. The melody
shapes the horizontal motion, as opposed to a true concept of
harmonic progression. And that's alway s been happening in my
music, except now its more complex, I believe. I tell Davis that
this is the harmonic progression that's laid out for the piece,
you're free to play as much of it as you like, then create a new
harmonic progression, just when you feel like that, or like eclipsing
it all, and moving into something entirely different ."
Such free ideas seem like a long
distance from Smith's childhood blues milieu.
"Let me tell you something about
the blues," he corrected the impression. "Most people don't believe
it when I tell them but it's true. If you know the great master
John Lee Hooker, you know the blues is not rigid and it has no
particular form. The blues is a n interchange between the one
and the five [tonic an d dominant tones of the Western tempered
scale], it's not a harmonic progression and it never was, and
that's the freest phenomenon you could find. It's just tone, that's
the only thing about it -- and I think that's a beautiful thing
that it's tone, because that is generating, or connecting its
unified point. To go back and forth from one to five could be
boring, not exciting. But one who has the ideas and creative imagination
to supply that space within the interchange, that person finds
something unique. That's what the blues masters did. That's why
they could make up those lyrics as they went along. They had the
space to do it, it wasn't cluttered with this note of a progression,
or that one. I draw on this idea of the blues all the time. The
'Miles Star' piece on The Year of the Elephant, that piece
draws very much on blues, particularly its second movement after
the ballad. "
Still: how does he find so many
varieties with the blues, if it's all contained without the dominant-tonic
"Let me tell you what the guy
at my first rehearsal with a blues band told me when I asked him
about a key. They were playing and I asked him, 'What key are
you in?' And the guy told me, 'I'm in the guitar key.' Then I
went to the bass player and asked him what key he was in, and
he said, 'I'm in the bass key.' So I figured I must be in the
trumpet key, and I just started. What I'm trying to say is there's
not much of a quantum leap at all beweeen blues and freedom. It's
not unusual at all that Thelonious Monk played the blues when
he was starting out, or that Albert Ayler came up in blues bands.
The blues is a free kind of music. My best example is always John
Lee Hooker. That guy played the blues as free as anybody I know.
He wasn't really concerned if he made a chorus12 bars long or
nine bars or 55 bars."
Smith admitted that touring his
blues band . . . er, Golden Quartet .nbsp;. . might
be difficult. "We're trying to focus on one or two performances
as a hit, because the climate now is more conducive to that."
But the trip uppermost in his mind was his imminent pilgrimage
(hajj) to Mecca.
"It's so exciting all I can do
is wash dishes and cook and then take a little nap and do some
praying and some reading and try to teach my school classes,"
he said. "It's one of the five pillars of Islam to go to Mecca.
We've been taught the concept that going to Mecca is a rehearsal
for Judgement Day. As you know, we usually face Mecca when we
do our prayers, but when we're in the great mosque in Mecca everybody's
praying in all directions. if you notice the title on my CD 'Al-Madinah,'
that's the city of the prophet [Mohammed], and I'm going to visit
there, and I'm going to visit the prophet's grave. And Land's
End, that's the well everybody's going to wash in, do their abolutions
befor their prayers, and also drink from for the human properties
of it. it was discovered back in the time of Abraham, when Ishmael
and Hagar, his Egyptian mother -- You kow that story? Okay.The
year of the elephant, do you know that story?
"Well, someone had messed up the
Christian temple in Yemen, so one of the great warriors in Yemen
decided they were going to destroy the mosque in Mecca in return.
They went there with a huge army including elephants, and one
of the miracles that's told in the Koran is that birds flew over
them with small pellets and dropped them on them and destroyed
them. That's what 'the year of the elephant' means.
"It's almost perfect for me to
be going there now that the CD is out. I've been telling them
at Pi records to be getting those records into some of those countries
in the middle east. Some of my brothers at the mosque have listened
to it and said it's very meditative msic. I think that's a good
mark. It's the joy and fulfillment of this hajj. I've made a lot
of preparations musically and spiritually to make this journey."
This piece appeared as the cover
feature of Signal2Noise Spring 2003 issue.
copyright © 2003 Howard Mandel
more english interviews and articles
© 1997-2011 Ishmael Wadada Leo Smith