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Asaf Sirkis Interview: Jazz From Within
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Posted by: editoron Saturday, January 12, 2008 - 07:18 PM |
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By John Stevenson
Asaf Sirkis is an Israeli-born jazz drummer who has made London his home for almost a decade.
No doubt possessed of his own distinctive artistic voice, he is most usually recognised as the percussive force behind fellow Israeli (and critically acclaimed) saxophonist Gilad Atzmonâs Orient House Ensemble.
Sirkisâs supple and highly imaginative compositions and stickwork (sometimes recalling the creative fury of Tony Williams) reach outstanding levels of realisation in his most recent work, âThe Song Withinâ (SAM productions) featuring electric/acoustic guitarist Mike Outram, and organist and keyboardist Steve Lodder. Collectively they are known as the Inner Noise.
Sure enough, there have been favourable comparisons to Williamsâ Lifetime trio (which featured organist Larry Young and guitarist John McLaughlin), but Outram is not just a stand-in for a McLaughlin display of musical fireworks: Asafâs music operates on a different contemplative level, enabling the guitarist to paint ethereal sonic textures that hauntingly inhabit the air.
Most of the pieces, such as the title track and âWhen You Ask Whyâ start out deceptively simply, slowly building to dramatic resolutions and climaxes.
You can almost see Asaf in rapt, studied attention at his kit, gently tapping the toms and summoning simple grooves from the snare and ride cymbals, before building up to momentous percussive crescendos, egged on by the gothic sonorities of Steve Lodderâs church organ. One thing is certain, this CD confounds its listeners with its âOliver Messiaen-meets-the prog-rockersâ vibe. Combining fury, subtlety, spiritual introspection, structure, and freedom, âThe Song Withinâ is boundary pushing and persuasive.
I caught up recently with Asaf Sirkis for a very revealing interview, which ranged from jazz to klezmer to the vexed Israeli-Palestinian situation and to spirituality.
John Stevenson: Whereabouts in Israel are you from? How did you get into jazz and who are your major influences?
Asaf Sirkis: I was born in Petah-Tikvah (near Tel-Aviv) and spent some of my early childhood there before moving to Rehovot, where I went to school and then to the Israel Defence Force. At an early stage I became fascinated by the music of the Beatles and the Police and then got heavily into Yes. My first experience of âJazzâ was listening to Allan Holdsworthâs âRoad Gamesâ mini album. I was 14 at the time, and I was completely blown away â I cannot forget that! I had a band at the time and we were all into learning more about jazz so weâd play a lot together, occasionally do a gig and exchange lots of records and cassettes. Thatâs how I got into Weather report, The Mahavishnu Orchestra and various ECM artists. Another major influence for me was the place I grew up in. I was living in a Jewish-Yemenite neighbourhood and heard lots of Yemenite religious singing and some amazing rhythms. There where two synagogues around the corner from us and I used to hear the prayers sung on Saturdays - all day long sometimes and simultaneously from both synagogues! Later on I got into Thelonius Monk, John Coltrane, and finally â a big influence â Olivier Messiaen (and especially his organ works).
JS: Judging from reports across the pond, itâs as if waves of frightfully gifted Israeli jazz musicians (saxophonist Anat Cohen, multi-instrumentalist Avishai Cohen [not to be confused with the trumpeter of the same name], bassist Omer Avital, pianists Sam Barsheshet and Aaron Goldberg, to mention a few) have been beating serious paths to the Big Apple. Is there some kind of jazz conveyor belt in the Holy Land that we donât know about? (laughs) Why did you choose to come to the UK and not follow the others to the US?
AS: Well, I think in general there is a great urge to creatively express oneself in Israel. Perhaps it is Jewish history, the political situation, the Jewish identity problem or the âJewish motherâ (laughs). I donât know, perhaps a bit of all. For me its an urge for freedom, or an escape, if you like, from the very dense reality of being Jewish. You see, for an Israeli-Jewish person [like me] there is a lot of social pressure from his environment â how else would you go to the army and fight? I know a lot of artists including myself who really needed to escape from Israel so they can do their own thing and forget about who they are. The funny thing is that some of them become ambassadors of their Jewish or Israeli culture ⊠I donât know; it's too complicated ⊠there are also a dearth of places to play and the lack of a supporting environment. You have to be extremely convicted both musically and mentally to survive, and you have to make an effort to develop your self but because there is no one to show you âhow its doneâ you naturally find your own unique voice very quickly and very early in your development. I can definitely say for myself that music or art is a saviour. With music you are less restricted, less identified. Now I live in the UK and there was no chance in the world I would make so much music in Israel like Iâm making here.
JS: It is a fair comment to make, that UK audiences know you more in connection with the Orient House Ensemble, even though you have your own unique percussive message to communicate. Would you say that that voice receives more of a hearing outside of the OHE (in the Inner Noise ensemble)? Or is your musical personality well represented alongside Gilad Atzmonâs more dominant melodic/political personality?
AS: Playing my music with my bands is the ultimate thing for me. Thatâs where I really feel at home. I work a lot as a sideman at the moment but I would definitely like to play my music more. I always felt that playing with other people brings out a kind of different âmeâ, which I really like, but for a long time there was a big gap, a big difference between the two. That was a bit schizophrenic and didnât feel so good. It was like â there is this nice jazz drummer in town whose got this crazy âthingâ this crazy beast â a church organ trio. What? No way! How did you get there? Nobody knew how to take it in the beginning, but in the last two years or so I do feel that I am permitted to bring more of how I play in my bands to my work as a sideman (and vice versa). Perhaps people are getting used to that crazy beast; the âotherâ thing ⊠or perhaps I am allowing it some more.
JS: What has been the response to your music in the UK? Would you say that UK audiences are politically receptive to the music presented by the OHE?
AS: Unfortunately, my music hasnât received a great deal of good response in the UK from audiences/promoters/reviewers. It is a shame and I donât know why itâs happened this way. Many people are aware that there is nothing like what we do but they are not sure about the noise it makes â itâs not âJazzâ some people say â of course not, its music. Even so, we do get to play gigs and do get some media exposure and have our followers. âThe Song Withinâ is our third CD! Our best one so far. I would say that on the whole there is a growing interest in what we do but it's just a bit slow sometimes⊠it looks like there is more interest in the USA in what we do â I am looking into that at the moment. As for the OHE â yes, most audiences in the UK (and Europe) tend to support Giladâs message. In a way, I think that the UK has been great ground for Giladâs somewhat eccentric, non-PC message. I wouldnât think it would go down so well anywhere else actually. Maybe itâs because of the fact that the UK is still one of the most foreigner-tolerant environments in Europe. I enjoy that freedom too!
JS: There is a palpable serenity on âThe Song Withinâ. Steve Lodder's organ and keyboard work takes on some of the more cloistral sonorities of revered British classical organists such as Percy Whitlock. Mike Outram's electric guitar tones bathe the atmosphere in gentle tonal washes, while your brushes, cymbals and drums appear to beseech celestial intervention. When and why did you conceive of such a spiritual sound, this âinner noiseâ, if you like.
AS: Spirit is everything. It has always been like that for me. From a very young age I was deeply interested in the âspiritualâ aspect of life, observing people and nature and later on I got into reading books about different teachings such as Krishnamurti, Gurdjieff and Tony Parsons to name a few. There is something in this world that is far beyond words and far beyond thoughts or concepts but then itâs not a âthingâ at all and art can express this. I found that in the sound of the pipe organ too. Funny enough this has nothing to do with its religious role in the Christian church. There is nothing more I can say about this Iâm afraid â words are hopeless here.
JS: Itâs quite a contrast from the âouter cacophonyâ of some klezmer tunes for sure âŠ
AS: Well, it depends on the way itâs played â klezmer could be a soulful thing too. Check out Giyora Fademan.
JS: In the Klezmer take-off band, âArtie Fishel and the Promised Landâ, which spoofs major jazz figures, you become Peter Foreskine. I guess you dig this kind of risk-taking, in your own words non-PC humour?
AS: Artie Fishel was a big celebration for all of us â we had such a laugh doing it. I spent a whole 40 gigs tour cracking up behind the drums wearing a dazzling blond wig! For me it was the right thing at the right time⊠I just came back to Giladâs band after a long break and it was great to do something so loose and different. Gilad is a great performer and entertainer (as well as a great musician and friend) and it was fascinating to see him develop that different avenue.
JS: It might seem something of a cliché question - but will be posed by cynics nonetheless: Does music make for the lasting and effective political changes urgently needed in the Israeli-Palestine situation?
AS: I am not interested in politics at all. Even more, I believe that I canât do anything to help anyone. To me, music cannot be used as a commodity. Things are just as they are - weâd like to think that weâve got some kind of control, even to some extent - that we can make things better or worse - and it may even appear that way sometimes - but to me it sounds utterly wrong. There will always be warmongers and peace activists. You see, the difficulty here is in identity. Once you have âdecidedâ that you are something or someone, and then separation begins - separation from reality. In the extreme case of the Middle East some people, and Iâm referring to all sides here, went so far with it that there is no more seeing of reality at all. Life becomes then a dense identity-super-structure to be kept by all means, even by violence. Identity is a commodity yet it is an illusion, an appearance; if we could realise that, a lot of the suffering would not be necessary.
JS: In the short film about you and the Inner Noise (www.asafsirkis.co.uk), you say:
"Identity for me is . . . is not something that has to do with something here and now. It always has to do with the past and it has to with the future. Someone that you want to be and someone that you are ⊠Music in Israel was far less expressive and far less âeducatedâ. There is always a sense of urgency and passion and that something is going on. Here, [by contrast] music is more acquired and learnt. Music offers a legitimate opportunity to be nobody. To be nothing. To forget about things I have learned, and to forget about who I am. I am not trying to be something, I am trying to be."
To many people familiar with your artistic presence and involvements, these statements will doubtless come across as contradictory. How do you use music to make a political statement ⊠by being a ânobodyâ?
AS: I do not use music as a political statement. Other people would maybe like to do this, and its OK, but it does not work for me at all. Gilad does â yes, and I respect his way but even with Giladâs band - when weâre actually playing the music on stage or in the studio we donât think about the political message, in actual fact we donât think about anything and thatâs the whole point for me. Then Gilad comes along and sometimes gives it a political wrapping and then people call him a âpolitical artistâ or I came along and say something about being nobody and people call me âspiritualâ but still the essence is the music/spirit - it does not belong to anyone and thatâs the key thing for me, thatâs what Iâm really doing this for.
JS: I couldnât help but notice the percussion instrument you were playing [the scene in the park in your short film] and its very close resemblance to the steel pan indigenous to the Caribbean island of Trinidad. It looked very much like an inverted steel pan that you chose to play with your hands rather than with mallets. Is that instrument unique to the Middle East?
AS: That instrument is called a âHangâ. Itâs a new instrument invented by a Swiss company called PanArt. Tim Garland (great saxophonist and composer I work with) bought it for me to play it in his Lighthouse trio. Itâs got a very specific pentatonic scale and Tim wrote some music for it. Itâs great fun to play. I specifically chose this instrument because it doesn't have a story; it doesn't have a cultural background, it doesnât belong. It is free.
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