ARA DEG (Thursday)

Ogwen Culture

Ara Deg is a four day festival of music co-organised by local independent music venue, Neuadd Ogwen, and the inimitable Gruff Rhys.

Events are taking place at a number of venues in the North Wales village of Bethesda over the long weekend, including gigs at Neuadd Ogwen itself, Capel Jerwsalem, Clwb Rygbi, and Y Fig.

The event starts on Thursday 19th September with a triple bill at Neuadd Ogwen. One time host of S4C music show Bandit, H. Hawkline will open the festival .

Now a recording artist in his own right with his lo-fi mix of indie folk and psychedelia, Hawkline will no doubt set the bar high for the entire weekend.

Also on the bill that night will be audiobooks.

This unlikely duo is made up of Wimbledon musician Evangeline Ling, and sometime Julian Cope cohort David Wrench. The two combined is a mix of Ling’s…

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The Garifuna Collective/Gasper Nali/Racubah – Neuadd Ogwen

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In the same week Pink Floyd’s Dave Gilmour sells his 1969 Black Fender Stratocaster for £3.1m, Gasper Nali sits alone on the Neuadd Ogwen stage in Bethesda, ready to support World Music legends The Garifuna Collective with the home-made bass guitar he plays. The instrument is actually called a babatoni. It is about 3 metres long, with one string, and a cow skin drum as a resonating box. Nali plays the instrument by hitting the string with a stick and changes the notes by placing an empty bottle along the string’s length. It makes a unique sound. Gilmour and Nali couldn’t be further apart on the musical spectrum but for one vital similarity. They both create magic from their art.

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Nali opens his far too short set with the relatively sedate “Olemera” from his 2015 album, ‘Abale Ndikuwuzeni’. The album’s title translates as ‘People, Let Me Tell You’. Near the end of the song the single string on the babatoni breaks. There’s a groan of disappointment from the crowd, and while Nali restrings the instrument his tour manager comes on stage and explains how the strings are in fact made from the wire found in car tyres. The rubber of the tyres is melted and the wire is removed. There is a 50/50 chance a string will work. We shouldn’t worry though, as they have around 75m of wire on tour with them. This raises a laugh from the audience and then Nali is ready to carry on.

The babatoni hums and buzzes like the hazy days of Summer that Bethesda is currently basking in, while the beat from Nali’s single kick drum proves to be irresistible, the audience soon dancing and clapping in time to the second song, ‘Aliyense Adzaonetsa’.

It isn’t long though before Nali is announcing the last song of his set. It is the title track from ‘Abale Ndikuwuzeni’. The moan from the crowd is even louder than when the string broke at the start of the evening, and so Nali milks what little time he has left on stage for all it is worth, getting the audience to sing along to the song. By the time he’s finished you’re left wondering why this guy is a support act.

The Garifuna Collective are in a class of their own though, of course. Their 2007 album ‘Wátina’, recorded with the late Andy Palicio, is one of the most praised world music albums ever released, and was selected by amazon.com as the Greatest World Music Album of All Time; beating Buena Vista Social Club, Bob Marley, Fela Kuti and other worthy contenders to the title. And here are nine of the collective on stage in Bethesda.

The band appears wary at first, hesitant, testing the crowd. To be fair, Gasper Nali is a tough act to follow, no matter how short his set was. But these are seasoned artistes and they are in their element, in front of a receptive and appreciative crowd, and by the time they break into ‘Ubou’ (The World), from the album ‘Ayo’, the floor is packed with dancing bodies. Rhythms and melodies swirl through the crowd, complex structures of sound that take the feet hostage.

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The Garifuna Collective is a multigenerational collection of musicians tapping into the rich history of the Garifuna people, telling stories, keeping their culture alive by infusing the traditional with their own musicianship. The result is sublime.

The audience just about raises the roof when it starts singing along to ‘Merua’ from the 2008 album, ‘Umalali’, and when two women in the audience are invited up on stage to dance along with the band you know that this isn’t just a gig, this is a full on party!

At one point the Collective plays a “Christmas” song and a dancer comes on stage dressed in an outfit that wouldn’t look out of place in a ‘Pet Shop Boys’ video. The audience might not be entirely sure what’s going on but they’re loving every second of it.

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Local DJs Racubah kept everyone occupied between sets.

Neuadd Ogwen is making a name for itself with the rich tapestry of music it is promoting, and The Garifuna Collective joins an illustrious list of world renowned talent that has performed in the independent music venue over the past few years.

With such artists as Lorkin O’Reilly performing soon, with his fusion of 60’s American folk music and traditional celtic vibes, plus home grown hero Gruff Rhys set to play at the venue in September, as part of the 3 day Ara Deg festival, and the return of Cate Le Bon, Neuadd Ogwen looks set to continue with it’s mission to bring the best music there is out there to Bethesda.

The night was like many nights at the venue, brave, enlightening, and entertaining.

 

Snowflake and Milkflakes

I’ve been thinking about “snowflakes” and “milkflakes” this past couple of days.

I’ve always struggled to recognise “snowflake” as a slur to be honest. Sure they’re fragile, but then so are we, humans I mean. Anyone of us could go in an instant. Gone! Just like that! Sometimes through no fault of our own. That’s pretty damn fragile if you ask me. Except this fragility goes for every single person on the planet.

So what else is there about snowflakes I thought to myself, other than their fragility?

Well, science tells us that every single snowflake is unique. Okay, to be honest, that sounds pretty much like everyone on the planet too, really. I might also add that I think snowflakes are extremely beautiful and exquisite in their complexity.

If you get a load of snowflakes together in one place at the same time then you get a breathtaking look at nature, an awe inspiring landscape. I’ve been to more than my fair share of political demos over the years and believe me, there’s not many public gatherings as inspiring and uplifting as a crowd of people fighting injustice and oppression together.

If you get even more snowflakes in one place of course, and I mean A LOT of snowflakes, then you’d better be careful, because no matter how amazing it might look, make one wrong move and you risk causing an avalanche. An individual snowflake is no more vulnerable to fate than the most powerful person on the planet, but alongside so many others it becomes a force to be reckoned with and respected.

 

As for “milkflake” let’s face it, it’s not even a real thing when you think about it. It’s the fragility of a “snowflake” added to a soft drink. And let’s not forget, maccie dee milkshakes have to be called “shakes”, sans the “milk”. That in itself should set alarm bells off for any right minded person. Why aren’t they allowed to use the word “milk” to describe their “shakes”?

Here’s what McDonalds says it puts in its Chocolate Shake Yummy! At least they contain some milk, so let’s be thankful for small blessings I suppose.

 

Taking all this into consideration I’m more than happy to accept the label “snowflake” and be proud of it, thank you very much.

And as for “Social Justice Warrior”, damn right I’m a “Social Justice Warrior”, and I’ve fought many battles over the decades. I’ve won quite a few too.

So sure, knock yourself out, and while you’re on a roll feel free to reintroduce “n****r lover” to the list and add “Muslim lover” while you’re at it. I’ll wear those caps too cos they fit.

In the meantime I’ll carry on calling out bigots, racists, homophobes, misogynists, right wing thugs dressed as the establishment, and the establishment dressed up as “the people”. Don’t make me laugh!

Actually, scratch that, I’ve found your recent humiliations hilarious, so please do carry on going around the country, so the country can tell you what it thinks of your lies and vile rhetoric.

 

Signed

A. Snowflake

 

 

 

Jeremy Dutcher – 9Bach(Noeth) – Live at Neuadd Ogwen

The Polaris Music Prize and Juno Award winning tenor, and activist, Jeremy Dutcher, brought the “indigenous” songs of the Maliseet culture all the way from Saint John River valley in Canada to the small town of Bethesda in North Wales on Friday evening.

The town’s independent music venue, Neuadd Ogwen, treated a packed house to an unforgettable evening of world class “world music” which I suspect many aficionados would have paid a small fortune to experience, which is ironic when you consider that Dutcher himself is determined to make the “indigenous music” box he has been placed into obsolete.

A stripped down 9Bach (noeth) opens, with Lisa Jen Brown (vocals/Harmonium/keyboard) and Martin Hoyland (guitar) playing a short but emotional set, including tracks from their BBC Radio 2 Folk Awards winning album, “Tincian”.

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From the gentle opening of “Llyn Du” (“Black Lake”) onwards, Lisa Jen charms the audience with her delicate vocals and her disarming chats in-between songs.

There is a sadness to the set, felt by both 9Bach and anyone in the audience who was aware of the recent death of Alan James, an early founder of the WOMAD music festival. James was a close friend, manager, and a champion of 9Bach, and both their last song and an early song from Jeremy Dutcher’s set are dedicated to a man who did so much to bring the music of the world to a wider audience.

Which brings us to Jeremy Dutcher. This is his first ever tour of Europe and having thanked his hosts for their hospitality he announces “Paris, Madrid, and now Bethesda!” which elicits a roar of approval from the audience, but then the fact that the venue has secured such a prestigious artist should be celebrated.

Dutcher is garnering a lot of publicity for his album, “Wolastoqiyik Lintuwakonawa”, which blends archival recordings of traditional Maliseet songs with his own classically trained tenor voice, and piano. The performance is simple on the surface. Dutcher sits at the piano for most of the songs, standing up briefly to perform a couple with nothing but a shaker and his voice.

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Then there are the archival recordings themselves. Whether you subscribe to the argument that analogue beats digital or not, something happens inside you when you hear these voices from the past in all their scratchy glory. In Dutcher’s own words he creates “sound worlds”, setting free these lost years and the silenced voices of the Maliseet, shining a 21st century light on them. That it was illegal to sing these songs in Canada up until the 1950’s speaks volumes. That there are very few speakers of the Maliseet language left in the world today should be considered a crime. “When we lose a language we lose everything”, says Dutcher while acknowledging a connection he sees between the Maliseet and the Welsh fight to retain and celebrate both language and cultural identity.

At one point in the evening Dutcher splits the audience into two groups and asks them to create a drone, with one half humming a G root note, and the other half humming a 5th. Dutcher then creates vocal loops, which are laid over each other. It is a magical moment.

Dutcher hopes that the label of “indigenous music” will become obsolete within a year. Judging from the quality of the music the audience at Neuadd Ogwen were treated to, I fail to see why this shouldn’t be the case. This music is hard to pigeon hole in the most positive way possible. To quote Dutcher again, “When we hear music it leaves the brain and it takes over the heart”.

The concert was both intimate and huge, a bit like a small town independent music venue hosting world class award winning music.

Photographs by Denise Baker Denise Baker

You Can’t Post That!

Facebook has blocked me for 24 hours, taking away from me my primary means of procrastinating when I’m supposed to be writing. It’s the reason behind my gagging that irks, more than the actual removal of my “Facebook Rights”.

I recently returned from my first “family holiday” with my partner and her 15 year old son; his words, not mine.

Despite “The Youth” being totally focused on getting into the skate-park we’ve found for him in Oslo, he has to temper his desire to skate with a bit of “art & culture” first.

We end up in the Astrup Fearnley Museum, and are pleased to see that, yet again, “The Youth” is allowed free entry to the exhibitions.

The artist Dan Colen is the current draw, and we – my girlfriend and I – are certain “The Youth” will appreciate Colen’s confrontational, pop culture work.

We were right, although at the end of our “family holiday”, “The Youth” informed us that the highlight for him was the painting “The Dance of Life” by Munch.

When we finally got home, I uploaded some of the photographs I’d taken while on holiday, and it was one of these pictures that got me blocked from Facebook.

It is a picture of a sculpture by Colen, called “Livin and Dyin”.

I suspect it wasn’t the Kool-Aid Guy, Wylie Coyote, or Roger Rabbit that offended, but the representation of the artist naked.

I’ve told Facebook what I think about its “values”, but as of this moment the ban still stands, which means I have a number of options:

I can head over to Twitter

I can make another coffee

I can now legitimately break for lunch

I can do some much needed admin

I can get on with some writing

I can complain about shitty censorship and double standards

I’m off to put the kettle on, and grab a bite to eat. I might be in virtual solitary confinement at the moment, but I’ll be buggered if I’m going to go on hunger strike over the matter.

“The Dance of Life” by Edvard Munch

“Livin’ and Dyin” by Dan Colen

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What the hell is #Vejanuary?

Some thoughts on #veganuary

Moel Faban Suppers

I’m sorry, but is it just me and a symptom of my slightly grubby warped mind, that I can’t stop thinking of vajazzle when someone says Vejanuary? If you are not familiar with the term, it is a trend encouraging people to try a vegan diet for the month of January. Vejanuary should not be confused with Vajanuary which was a whole different trend (where women were encouraged to let their lady garden grow; in the same way men were encouraged to love and nurture their facial hair in “Movember”).

These trends have left me scarred, with a head full of slightly disturbing images firmly stuck, like a dysfunctional ‘earworm’, but in this case its an ‘imageworm’. It haunts me, and because of that this post will be the last time I use the word. This post is my therapy, a way to purge the thoughts and dismiss the term…

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