March 11-17, 2004

music

Skin Tones

Drum major: "Spoken Hand lets us have tradition outside and creativity inside," says Daryl Kwasi Burgee.

Spoken Hand beats the drum for unity.

by Mary Armstrong

Look for glints of light reflected by shards of mirror, each glimmer creating a shining line of detail amid larger swirls of vibrant color at Second and Vine. You’ve found the Painted Bride. If it is midmorning on a Sunday, then serious work is being done just inside this riotous color.

Fourteen drummers from four different cultures are formed in a circle, with Daryl Kwasi Burgee, leader of the West African djembe section easing around the inside. He is the picture of gentle patience, reminding everyone that time is limited and please, please, don't play while we are working on something. But these men love their drums so much, it's tough not to touch them just a little bit. No glares from Burgee though, just a renewed plea to stay focused.

Many of these men have toured and recorded with Grammy winners. That's the bread-and-butter work. Spoken Hand is love, pure and simple.

The 47-year-old Burgee is the ensemble's artistic director. He is also the man who planted the original seed, while programming music for the AfricAmericas Festival in 1996. There he gathered as many different types of drum traditions as he could for a grand finale. Among those drummers was Lenny Seidman, a tabla player since 1971 who recruited some of his students, along with other talents like Joe Tayoun and Toshi Makihara. Now 62, Seidman recalls, "It was such a powerful event! Not just for us on stage -- the audience made libations, had candles -- it was a very spiritual way to close the festival."

The effect was so strong that Burgee and Seidman started to ponder an institutionalized drum summit, where various traditions would become conversant in one another's drum language. Burgee also has a trap drum career in which he has worked with artists like the Dixie Hummingbirds and Pattie LaBelle. "I wanted to offer these [traditional] drummers the same opportunity as a jazz player, the chance of creativity and improvisation. Spoken Hand lets us have tradition outside and creativity inside."

With that goal in mind, Seidman approached his then-boss at the Bride where he has programmed world music since sometime in the last millennium. Gerry Givnish not only provided rehearsal space, but an incentive to show up each week that first year: a commission for work that the group would compose together, blending the various batteries' languages into new drumspeak.

Since their first tentative beginning, Seidman says, "The excitement, the awe of being around all these other drums, is like a journey, learning about new people, new traditions. There is so much new cultural information. At first, the new drums are mysterious." For example, the bata batterie, with its internal conversations, can make it hard to find the primary beat. "The bata has so many melodies going on, just like tabla, ordinarily. But in Spoken Hand the tablas play the same rhythm [in order] to be heard."

Enter Peter Bertini, the astonishing bundle of energy who drums, dances and sings lead with the samba group. "I have learned a lot about the different styles of music and I learned about getting along with people. It was OK to have a heated argument, the next day it is over."

Bertini continues, "I've had audience members say, "Seeing men together creating something that is beautiful; something harmonious, is profound.' People really appreciate seeing the blend of individuals working together. We respect each other enough to do it. We are not working together because [we] needed a job, working for an employer who threw us together. No! We do this because we want to."

Difference has been challenging at times. Bertini recalls the dread of having to play a 2/4 rhythm, "but count underneath the 7/4 rhythm the djembes and tablas were playing so I could play an accent where it was needed. "No way!' I insisted, but eventually I gave in." Now he feels the same satisfaction as the mad geniuses who assured him that with a little concentration he could master this challenge.

"People do respond to seeing the diversity in the drums and the racial differences," he says. "I would not have socialized with any of the people in the group in my regular circle. Now after working with these guys for years I'm so glad. It's been really enriching. I'd really miss them if I didn't see them. And Spoken Hand's vision -- we wanted to create something beautiful. That to me is very impressive, it feels not ordinary." In fact, Bertini declares, "It's a small miracle."

Miracles are part of the everyday business of the bata batterie, led by Clifford Gregory "Peache" Jarman. Bata is the sound of the santeria, the Caribbean evolution of West African religion. This is serious stuff, a long way from Peache's altar boy roots at Annunciation parish on Diamond Street, but equally devout. Peache started as a trap drummer at age 7. "I played the fatback circuit for years, with folks like the Commanders, Grover Washington." The whole time Peache, just like Burgee, was leading a double life. "My dad's best friend was Robert Crowder of Kulu Mele," so that introduced him to the world of African drumming and led to gigs with Mongo Santamaria, Willie Bobo and Cal Tjader. At 56, Peache has seen both sides intimately, and says he has always dreamed of getting every kind of drummer there is together. He swears he's no philosopher, but the next words out of his mouth are pure poetry.

"What you can say with a drum that you can't with words?" he asks. "It's what's in your heart, the expression of the creator, it's your expression of life. When you play your drum, it is words."

"When you make eye contact with your lover it's one thing; your brother, it's another. When you are playing and you make eye contact with another player, it's unbelievable! It's a moment of grace, it's sweet, it's kind, it's gentle, it's raw, it's so many things. Drummers say there's a sparrow outside, a lion inside. When those drums get to roaring, the sparrow flies away and the lion takes over. Once the drummers start to play, once the lion wakes up -- don't touch him, the dude might take jump up and knock you down."

Spoken Hand's new, self-titled recording -- surprisingly the first, despite almost a decade of playing -- captures a great deal of that roaring. Listening is endlessly fascinating. Seventy-five minutes of patterns shifting upon patterns give proof that drums play plenty of melody.

At rehearsal, some eyes focus on Burgee for direction. Others, struck by drummer's ADD, look into the middle distance while the hands start noodling. But everything returns to focus when absolutely necessary. The group puts sound to the Bride's image, flashing details amid colorful swirls.

Spoken Hand Percussion Orchestra, performances Thu.-Sat., March 11-13, 8 p.m., Sun., March 14, 7 p.m., $25-$30; CD release party Fri., March 12, 10 p.m., $10; workshop Sun., March 14, 1 p.m., $10; Painted Bride Art Center, 230 Vine St., 215-925-9914, www.paintedbride.org.