In the Netherlands it is often considered bad form to include politics in art. Such a view often creates a tension between the art establishment and immigrant artists from countries where the simple creation of art often is an act of political rebellion. A few weeks ago I had the pleasure to interview Jun and Mitchy Saturay about the use of art in political actions. The interview was is part of a series we’re making for Arseh Sevom, an organisation that aims to foster civil society in Iran. Though they’re not up yet, you should definitely check out their site, it’s a treasure trove for social activists and anyone else interested in free societies.
Jun and Mitchy are from the Philippines and have always used theater to educate their audience politically, starting from the time of the Marcos dictatorship until they fled the country a few years ago. Some nights ago we organised a night about the rights of Philippine garment workers and were visited by Jun, Mitchy and their daughter Marakit. In the train over to Amsterdam they had prepared a short performance which was very moving to see and hear from up close. The recording does no justice to what we experienced, but you might still enjoy it:
I like how Jun and Mitchy continue their work in the Netherlands, and I also like how they involve their daughters who even after living in the Netherlands for some years are not a bit less dedicated to social justice than their parents.
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For my own mom the single act of singing had political and social significance. People who visit the Mezrab regularly know how well she does it but have also heard how she was forbidden by her own mother to sing. I have finally made a professional recording of her voice. Accompanying her are Stefanos Sekeroglou on violin and myself on Tar. The song itself is not political, it’s a sad lullaby by the Iranian singer Vigen, quite popular when my mother was a young girl. However, while my mother sings the song together with me, her son, she thinks of the tens of thousands of mothers in Iran who are separated from their children.
We’ve recorded the song a year ago and all this time it was on a shelve waiting for us to make a clip for it before sharing it with you. It doesn’t look like the clip will come any time soon, so until then you’re very welcome to share it with your friends.
For this week’s Mixtape we go to the incredibly rich musical soil of Rumania. Enjoy the songs of bands that became known during the Balkan music craze that swept the world a few years back but also a few gems that remained hidden.
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Taraf de Haiduks / Rustem Si Suite
The group Taraf de Haiduks, or band of brigands, come from the village of Clejani where for decades they’ve been visited by musicologists who recorded their virtuoso performances. After appearing in Tony Gatlif’s film Latcho Drom they became known to the world. Everyone from Yehudi Menuhin to Johnny Depp wanted to be their friend. One of the most touching recorded moments is in the documentary Gypsy Caravan: the old father of the main violinist of the band had just passed away, and all the musicians gather to pay him a final tribute, his son frantically playing away until the morning comes.
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Fanfare Ciocărlia / Asfalt Tango
Ciocărlia is the Rumanian word for skylark, it is also the name of a popular band that was formed out of local wedding performers who were prompted by a French producer to become fixed band that can tour the world. Together with Serbia’s Boban Markovic Orkestar they are the ambassadors of the Gypsy Brass genre, a type of music that was formed when many Roma musicians served in the Ottoman and Austrian armies and adapted the brass instruments to their own music.
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Gica Petrescu / Pietra Pietra
It doesn’t take a lot of searching to find that music from Romania is more than the (great) Gypsy tracks played in Balkan Beats parties. Especially in the fifties and sixties amazing tracks were produced and Romanians have been luckily uploading many of the old songs to the internet. Gica Petrescu has been singing actively until his death 6 years ago when he was 85! Here is his rendition of the song Pietra Pietra.
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Maria Dragan / Foaie Verde Bob Naut
Maria Dragan is not from Rumania, but from neighbouring Moldova, a tiny Romanian speaking country that has been separated by centuries of history. Despite the current borders many Moldovans and Romanians celebrate each other’s artists as their own. Maria Dragan’s home village has honored her by organizing a yearly Maria Dragan folk music festival.
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Maria Tanase / Lume Lume
It is only fitting to end our Romanian Mixtape with a song by Maria Tanase, the great diva of Romanian song. She was hated by the fascists who destroyed her first recordings and stopped her from singing, and during the war Maria Tanase never stopped defending and praising her Jewish friends. In the song Lume (world) she sings of our being as an old friend who pains you, but you never tire of her:
Oh world, sweet sister
When will I have enough of you?
When I give up bread for Lent
And the glass gives up on me…?
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That’s the music for this week, we hope you enjoyed it!
[note, I came back to revise the formatting of this post because the blog kept turning it into one big block of text, but I ended up adding a piece in the middle about Anje Robertson]
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My previous post on storytelling and the Dutch scene resulted in a flurry of discussion and a great amount of reactions to the comment page of the post, my private e-mail, various Facebook pages and the mailing list of the Dutch Storytelling Foundation. I would very much like to encourage anyone who’s interested in the state of the scene and the discussion to go back to the previous post on February 17th and read the comments. Here I will add and clarify a few things that I wrote and respond to some of the mails and comments.
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First of all I have to respond to creating for some people the illusion that I am allergic to the native Dutch over fifties crowd. Ironically, while people were mulling over my previous post and responding here and there I had a dinner with the board of the Mezrab were I lamented the fact that since we moved from our humble little place in the Jordaan to our new center in the East we’ve grown radically in crowds, but have a bit less very young (highschool age) or older (50+) visitors. I told them I would consider it a loss if the only people who would come were of my age, for the same reason that I would close the place down if only Dutch people or only Iranians would attend. Anything in life, but especially an art like storytelling needs diversity. While it’s a bit silly to talk about age in storytellers (I’ve seen students transform to wise old sages when channeling an old storyteller, or old ladies into seductive teenagers) it is true that certain generations have benefits to offer to the community that we would miss if we would let them out. Or to put it differently, where would we be without the arrogance and bravado of our youth or the wisdom and experience of those who’ve seen so much come and go? And more importantly, if we separate the two, how would we pass on the accumulated experiences and knowledge of our art to the next generation? Consider for instance the comment by Tori, who writes:
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As you know, I am a huge Mezrab storytelling fan, and it’s gotten better and better as it’s gotten more and more personal. At the same time, when I do hear the (thankfully) rare traditional story now, I am drawn to it and more interested than I was when traditional stories were more dominant.
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This was written after our last show this Friday. I can only assume she talks about Anje Robertson, a great storyteller who performed on that night particular night in front of over 100 people who had seen young storytellers talk loudly about (mostly) their own lives. Anje talked in almost a whisper, but the crowd was enchanted. I very much regret not writing in my original post how much I enjoyed Anje’s contribution to the meeting day. At the time I thought it was beside the point I was trying to make, but I should have included it. Another comment is made by Desiree van Keulen (translated to English by myself):
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Making a judgement based on a first visit about the whole Dutch storytelling scene can’t be anything but a bad judgement. I’m given a label as a fifty plus Native Dutch, from outside, based on a single meeting and to be frank that kind of behavior infuriates me!When I was six I wasn’t allowed to join playing football with the boys in the neighborhood. I was just a girl, and girls can’t play football, right?
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Desiree continues to write about other labels that she has encountered in her life, from not being expected to study because her father was a craftsman to not understanding her family because she was born after the war. All valid points (and again, I do encourage everyone to read the comments in their entirety) however, while I’ve visited the meeting days only once, I’ve heard from other people who’ve gone before share my concern. I’m also not new in the storytelling scene. I’ve been to events all other the Netherlands and I do see certain patterns. It’s ludicrous that a girl isn’t allowed to play football, but it’s also not true that if the girl says she doesn’t like the football in her neighborhood to be a boys only club she hates boys. She’s merely protesting a scene that either consciously locks her out, or hasn’t created an environment girls would care to join.
But also, even if I would base my judgment on only one visit, would that be less valid? Consider the following, the visitors come based on how people have been attracted to the scene in previous months and years. Now, are the type of people I would like to join the existing scene excluded on purpose or do they simply feel the scene isn’t their place? This is easy to answer, the people who run the scene are the kindest and most open people I’ve met in my life. Even in the comment section Gottfrid and Eric, current and previous members of the board of the Dutch Storytelling Foundation, write the following:
“…You are very succesfull in Amsterdam because: a) you have a different, more open concept for your storytelling nights; b) you attract younger people because you are young yourself; c) you attract WND and foreigners because you have roots in more than one culture and d) you like experiments with stories and different kinds of storytelling. This will probably be the basis of your success and we wish you joy with it. … We hope that you will contribute with your fresh ideas and experience with Mezrab to DSF. We may invite you in the future to organize one of the DSF meetings in Utrecht. We will give you and your fellow Mezrab storytellers a one day’s playground for others (yes, all those WND, 50+ you saw) to learn from. Do we have a deal?”
“I agree with Gottfrid. As a former boardmember I know it is the strong wish om DSF to connect all kinds of Storytelling and yes this is a long way to go. MAZRAB is a wonderfull concept and, although reasons for nominations were not mentioned I believe the way you and MAZRAB connect people,music, stories and cultures is one of them. …”
Great, the spirit and need for renewal and experimentation is present, so let’s do it! I’m up for it, I’m sure more than a few Mezrab visitors would like to attend. But why stop at Mezrab? There’s so much happening that’s not considered part of the “scene” that we Dutch storytellers could learn from. Almost each immigrant community has a storytelling representative in the Netherlands from styles that force us to reconsider what we consider a story or how it should be told. There’s also poetry circles to raid for ideas, scores of students graduating from the “kleinkunst” academy, or as Anne van Delft showed us in her amazing festivals so many years ago, present in about any person you meet in the streets. In the spirit of discovery here a link that Belgian storyteller Rob sent in one of his mails. Simply amazing:
Well, there’s still much more to write and discuss about the state of storytelling in the Netherlands and the role each of us can play to make it a more exciting dynamic place. Not only will I do so, but I also encourage you to continue your contribution, both on stage as well as in the comment section.
When Mezrab started the storytelling nights almost eight years ago it was a conscious decision to hold the first ones in Dutch. Though people speak good English here producing art in your native tongue is something else. But imagine us having to convince the Dutch about the beauty of their language! Today half the singles in the charts are in Dutch when we grew up many people were convinced their own language was not beautiful enough to write with, tell stories in or use to sing. In those days a pop song or a rap track in Dutch was an act of rebellion, swimming upstream and remolding the clay of “Nederlands” into new forms and shapes. To celebrate how far “Nederhop” has come and for your Monday afternoon amusement we bring you the dopest tracks in the genre:
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Extince / Kaal of Kammen
Extince was one of the first to rap in the Netherlands, though not in Dutch initially. When he did start his producing Dutch tracks the Amsterdam group Osdorp Posse dissed him for trying to cash in on what they had started. This track is his response to them, showing with lyrical virtuosity and mastery of the funk that while not the first he is indeed greatly fun to listen to.
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Opgezwolle Eigen Wereld:
Zwolle is a tiny town in the Netherlands, but it’s been a breeding ground for crazy rappers. Opgezwolle (literally “Swollen Up”, but an obvious reference to their home town) create their own world, not only the title of this track, but showing how far removed they are from the rest of the world by the style of their music and a brilliant trippy videoclip.
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De Jeugd van Tegenwoordig / Watskeburt?!
In 2005 the hit of the summer was this nonsensical number filled with made-up words. Ironically the song that parodies many HipHop conventions launched the careers of three rappers who never managed to replicate their first success. The producer of this Amsterdam group is none other than Bastian, a musician who deserves a whole Monday Mixtape list to himself.
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Duvel Duvel / Wie is ut?
It’s no coincidence the rappers of the group Duvel Duvel don’t appear in the clip. When the advertising agency Habbekrats decided to make the clip for the single they didn’t have permission to make one. Since their clip was cooler than what most other labels were producing, it not only became the official clip for the group, but it also gave Habbekrats the chance to collaborate with other Hiphop artists.
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Dio ft. Sef / Aye
The clip of this Dutch track, also produced by Habbekrats, is an homage to the roots of Hiphop. Created to look like it was shot in the 80ies with the technology then available (and by accident taped over a German porn film). Honestly, with tracks like this Dutch Hiphop firmly places itself among the best of the world. Enjoy!
Last weekend I was invited for a meeting day by the Dutch Storytelling Foundation. About fifty people met at a neighbourhood activity center in Utrecht to listen to stories, discuss their meaning, call out the storyteller of the year and inspire the people on the scene to grow and develop this crazy art form we feel passionate about.I had not attended any of the previous meetings, but I was informed by mail I was one of the five nominated to be storyteller of the year, and it would be appreciated if I was present for the ceremony.
Though I feel honoured to be invited and nominated, I am also worried about how storytelling is seen and experienced in the Netherlands, especially after visiting the meeting day. Almost all of the participants were over fifty years old and almost all were white native Dutch. It did not help that the international storytelling theme of the year is “the Brothers Grimm” to commemorate the 200th year of the first printing of their stories. What I experienced is the type of storytelling that I’m developing an allergy to: audience members sitting on chairs in a row, and a storyteller sitting in a chair in front of them telling a children’s story in a slow… well pronounced… way. It is no wonder young people are not drawn to these type of stories, they think it’s childish (and that’s exactly the reason why this particular over fifty crowd is drawn to it, it reminds them of their childhood in a simpler more romantic time).
I’m not opposed to this type of storytelling, if it’s considered one of the many types of stories and ways that we can share our stories, but if it’s considered the main type of storytelling I have to protest. 250 visitors a month visiting the our storytelling nights alone shows there is an interest in different types of stories: Personal stories and confessions improvised on the spot, stories that are depicted on stage by a team of improvisers, stories that switch language mid-sentence, leap from teller to listener, inform us about political and social struggles. The list of possibilities is endless. In 8 years of experimenting with the format visitors have time and again surprised me with their contributions and I’m yet to reach the stage where I can say I’ve seen it all.
When we started our storytelling nights I was sad there wasn’t much of a storytelling scene in the Netherlands. However, it also felt exciting to be a pioneer, with a small band of dedicated die-hards, creating intuitively what we felt would inspire a storytelling audience. Now that there is a scene, represented by the Storytelling Foundation, I feel I can’t relate to it.
So the question is, dear storytellers and storylisteners, do we join the Dutch scene and try to teach them a thing or two, or do we stay away from them and create our own scene? I would be very curious about what you think.
This week’s Monday Mixtape brings you something very special. Fusion songs from the Arab world. Though the word fusion is very popular in the world music scene, we at the Mezrab think it only works when it’s not a bad fit between two different styles but when it creates something new and intense. When you listen to a song and can’t imagine it’s components ever having been separate that’s the type of fusion music that works.
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Anouar Brahem / The Astounding Eyes of Ritax
When Tunisian Oud player Anuoar Brahem learned everything there was to learn about Arabic classical and folk music his thirst for musical knowledge was not satisfied. He immersed himself in Jazz and over the years created his own delicate sound. Contemplative and enchanting, enjoy one of the masters of the Oud.
Also mixing his Oud with Jazz is the virtuoso Rabih Abou-Khalil. Where Anouar frequently looks for fragile beauty in his music, Rabih is masterful at mixing the power of Jazzy and Arabic Rythms and dazzling melodies.
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Ibrahim Maalouf / Beirout
Ibrahim comes from an incredibly talented family. He’s the nephew of the great Lebanese writer Aamin Maalouf and his own father designed the 4-valve trumpet, an instrument that allows the player to play the oriental “quarter” notes not found on most regular European instruments. Ibrahim plays Classical, Jazz, Hip-hop, you name it, but when he incorporates his oriental roots in his music he really grabs you by the heartstrings. The song Beirout was inspired by a trip back to his home town and still seeing the scars of war. Take your time to listen to this song and dream away with the clip that accompanies it, all the way to the powerful climax.
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Tinariwen / Chet Boghassa
Though many Touareq artists would object to being included in a list of Arab artists, it would be a shame to skip the funky tracks of Tinariwen in this week’s Mixtapes. The music is born out of ancient songs and rythms of the nomads of the Mali, Algeria, Libya, mixed with a healthy dose of American Rythm and Blues coming back to its African roots. The discovery of Tinariwen had a funny effect, record labels suddenly were looking in all these countries for any nomad with an electric guitar or bass to sign up on their label, and while some of the “newly discovered” funky nomads don’t sound too bad, none beat the original Touareq musical rebels.
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Souad Massi / Le Bien et le Mal
Musically Souad Massi is not as innovative as the previously mentioned artists, but when someone sounds as good as she does there’s no need to be. What she delivers is a pile of great songs written for guitar and her angelic voice. Her music is also very much connected to the old Mezrab, where Mama Mezrab would often put on her CD on quiet days.
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Bendaly Family / Do you love me?
Saving the best for last, this one is a bit of an internet sensation: the Lebanese Bendaly Family. They mix their Arabic Schlager with beatles era rock ‘n roll. I don’t really know what else to write that does justice to the brilliance of this song. Just listen to it, it will brighten up your week!
One of the most incredible examples of storytelling in the media is the radio show “This American Life”
It is not only very well written, but also shows that a good story doesn’t need much of flashy effects and when told well also doesn’t need to be too short to keep the audience attention. Episodes of This American Life are an hour long and often have little in the way of music to accompany the voice telling the story.
If you don’t know This American Life, go to their website. They’ve got hundreds of episodes up.
But the main reason to post about This American Life is that Ira Glass, the guy who makes the show, has a series of videos up on Youtube, where he talks about the art of storytelling for Radio. Whether you are a storyteller for radio or not, or a storyteller at all. These interesting and important points to listen to.
Some days ago a good friend and a Mezrab regular posted a note on our Facebook about an Indonesian man arrested for writing online that god does not exist. First he was beaten up and now he faces a potential jail sentence of 5 years. Since at the Mezrab we don’t stand for such nonsense we decided not to just sign an online petition, but to rather mail the ambassador of Indonesia in the Netherlands. Here’s a copy of what we wrote. And of course, we urge you to take action as well. Have a read, and if you like it, pass it on.
To: Her Excellency Ambassador of Indonesia Retno L.M. Marsudi
Embassy of Indonesia
Tobias Asserlaan 8
2517 KC Den Haag
bidpol@indonesia.nl
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Your Excellency,
I would like to visit your beautiful country soon, but I am troubled by a recent development that has given me second thoughts and made me postpone my visit.
I refer to my concerns for one of the citizens of Indonesia. Alexander Aan. I’m sure your excellency is familiar with his case: for declaring online his non-belief in a deity he was beaten up and arrested and will potentially receive a harsh prison sentence. It seems that renouncing (his personal) faith was an insult to religion.
These events and the handling of it by local government has confused me. If mr. Aan is without faith, and the Indonesian law requires of people to have a faith, isn’t it more prudent to allow him to speak of his non-belief? If not, how will you know if the religion that’s stated in one’s identity card is the religion of one’s heart or simply what one pretends to be out of fear of retribition and prosecution?
I am also confused by Mr. Aan’s accusation of insulting religion by stating god does not exist. If he said that to a God he believed existed it would be a foolish and paradoxical act. Unless he was a devout Jew who lived through the Holocaust and witnessed the destruction of friends and family members and tried to insult exactly the almighty he believed in but held responsible for the senseless inhumanity in his life. Luckily Judaism is not one of the six accepted religions in Indonesia so we can avoid that theological conundrum. Another foolish act would be to state god exists by one who doesn’t believe, and luckily that is, as far as I know, not something that’s required by Indonesian law, as mr. Aan’s troubles started when he started to voice his unbelief.
But how is it an insult to state God does not exist if that is what one feels? If a blind person goes to the eye-doctor in Indonesia and the doctor holds out his fingers. Is the blind person required to guess the amount of fingers out of fear of being beaten up and locked up for stating he does not see the fingers? Or is he rather encouraged to say to the doctor what he does or doesn’t see so he can be helped with his condition (either by curing it through operation or helping him live with his condition)?
If unbelief lives in the brain, in synapses not having formed the constructions that allow belief in a deity, isn’t it the humane, or dare I say moderate Indonesian way to examine the unbeliever to see whether his brain is incapable of belief, in which case you shouldn’t punish him but rather declare him an invalid in religious matters and pay him some kind of monthly relief, or whether he is capable but presently doesn’t do so, in which case you could treat and educate him.
In reading about Indonesia to prepare for my upcoming trip I found out that Indonesia is a modern and moderate country that allows its citizens one of six religions. This is great news for mr. Aan. If your country decides to treat him rather than punish him, priests of various sects and religions could educate him, and surely realizing how rich the world of religion is he would come to his senses and follow one of the beliefs.
Mr. Aan could then start to believe that while Jesus was a great prophet it is blasphemy to think he is the son of god (as Muslims are allowed to believe in Indonesia), or that while Jesus was the son of god the Catholic church is a false church that leads true believers astray (as many protestants believe in Indonesia), or that the first principle of faith is the belief in one god and believing in more such as the Hindus do is sinful (such as Muslims and Christians alike profess in Indonesia) or that while you can have a favorite god it is foolish to deny the millions others (as many Hindus think in Indonesia). All of these convictions and many more are protected by Indonesian law.
I hope your excellency can clarify these matters to me, as I hope to visit your beautiful country soon and would not like to cause trouble with its laws simply by discussing my own personal thoughts on religion. Which as Ambassador to the Netherlands your excellency knows is not stated on our identity cards allowing for all kinds of confusion.
Warm Regards,
Sahand Sahebdivani
director of Mezrab Center for Philosophical Experimentation
Domselaerstraat 120
1093 MB Amsterdam
Rod Ben Zeev is not only one of Amsterdam’s most talented improv actors, he’s also the initiator of one of Mezrab’s hottest nights, the “My Real Story” second Friday of the month storytelling event. Since he’s traveling the world for a while and we do miss him, we’ve asked him to give us his favorite pieces of music. Not only did he take time off from trekking the Australian desert to write this, he showed us that he’s a man with big cojones. Who else would dare to include the Backstreet Boys in his top 5? Enjoy!
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5. I Got a Man! / Positive K.
This Positive K duet cracks me up while I’m dancing which cracks other people up. So it’s just a good time all around. I always wanted to tell someone: “Are you a chef? Cause you keep feedin’ me soup!”
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4. Too Much Love Will Kill You / Queen
Freddy is amazing. Never try to Karaoke anything by him if you’re not a professional. This song always makes me break down on the inside. It’s so beautiful and represents all the beauty about being passionate about something you love.
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3. Breathe Me / Sia
I recently “discovered” this song because I watch Six Feet Under and this is the soundtrack to the most incredible montage I have ever seen in the final episode of the show. I don’t think you need to watch all 63 episode of the show to appreciate the layering of this but it’s a nice payoff if you do.
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2. I Want it that Way / Backstreet Boys
Yes, I know I’m publicly saying that I love this Backstreet Boys song. But who doesn’t, really. When I listen to this ballad, I’m just like the Chinese boys doing the video with so much emotion in their dorm room. It’s a guilty pleasure like so many other songs we love so let’s just admit it and end all this war and hunger.
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1. Graceland / Paul Simon
This is Paul Simon’s title song from my favorite album… ever. It takes me back to a time when I was a kid in the back of my dad’s Citroen, singing along to the entire album on long drives and dreaming of being able to sit in the front seat one day. I realized that dream and my new dream is to sing the entire album in a live concert in front of real people.
What is storytelling? It’s a question I’ve asked myself many times. I believe it’s an important question, if we are to revive or reinvent the art of storytelling, as Mezrab is trying to do. For me personally, storytelling was taking long walks with my dad in the streets Amsterdam while he told tales about his father and grandfathers, heroes and scoundrels who could compete with the heroes of old. For me the storyteller was not someone who had studied theater or writing, it was someone (my father) who had lived, and while living had absorbed events and stories around him, to pass them on later with passion and excitement.
My father, the great storyteller, disagreed. In his stories a storyteller is a serious profession. A special breed of men who studied for years and traveled to make their living. They knew how to entertain a crowd, how preserve and string together the old stories. They would tell their stories in squares and in tea houses. For years I had a mental image of these storytellers without meeting them, until I found some last year. Not in Iran, but in documentary shot in Morocco. Watching these storytellers who populate the squares of many cities in Morocco, together with snake charmers, fortune tellers, strongmen and other miracle workers, provides the mental imagery to go with the stories my dad told me many years ago. But more moving still is the way it portrays the protagonist, a young boy who tries to become a storyteller like his father.
If you speak Dutch, a TV version of the documentary is available online.
If you don’t speak Dutch, look at this trailer in Youtube:
When Mezrab started the storytelling nights almost eight years ago it was a conscious decision to hold the first ones in Dutch. Though people speak good English here producing art in your native tongue is something else. But imagine us having to convince the Dutch about the beauty of their language! Today half the singles [...]
Last weekend I was invited for a meeting day by the Dutch Storytelling Foundation. About fifty people met at a neighbourhood activity center in Utrecht to listen to stories, discuss their meaning, call out the storyteller of the year and inspire the people on the scene to grow and develop this crazy art form we [...]
