Showing posts with label Naná Vasconcelos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Naná Vasconcelos. Show all posts

Saturday, March 13, 2010

EARTH MEDICINE SONG

“Going back to the Earth can't happen without guidance. It has become a cliché. Going back to Mother Earth is unrealistic to a people who are mere spectators. Meteorologists rely on machines to predict weather and the habit of touching the Earth, and her forces is antiquated in the modern mind. The times are requiring a new medicine; an approach that somehow balances the demands of living, and being present with the sacred elements that hold worlds together. These are my words. Dawn Wolf, Keeper of Stories”




photos: Naomi Campbell, Nana Vasconcelos, & a medicine wheel

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Naná Vasconcelos playing berimbau in Brazil






Milton Nascimento & Naná Vasconcelos

Milton Nascimento & Naná Vasconcelos performing together on David Sanborn's show, SUNDAY NIGHT was a great musical moment for me.  David Sanborn had a brilliant show. There was a house band.  Omar Hakim (drummer), Don Alias (percussionist), Marcus Miller (bassist), Hiram Bullock (guitars), a keyboardist whose name doesn't rush to the surface of my mind, and of course the great imaginative saxaphonist, David Sanborn.  David would invite an eclectic cross section of musical styles, and musicians who often would never meet on a session to play music for an hour.  Milton Nascimento is a prolific composer, and singer from Brazil.  His songs are haunting, and memorable.  Naná Vasconcelos is an extraordinary percussionist from Brazil who approaches music from some high spiritual place that merges musical styles, thoughts, consciousness, nature, beauty and love into something ethereal.  My approach was similar to his, and I felt I had met a kindred spirit when I chanced upon him on an album in the 1980's.

I have had the priviledge of playing a lot of music of different genres with musicians with incredible gifts, and insights into the cosmos of music-making.  Following the musical dreams given to me at birth is a responsibility.  The musician hears voices, sounds, and some of us see the colors of sound, and making music is the copulation between celestial and terrestrial populations of beings immersed in the sounds of music.  Being a musican is a priest-craft above every other trapping of the trade.  It is the call of spirits to the hearts of musicans who hear sounds of the universe, and translates them into funk, jazz, Arabic music, and other musics the world over.  -Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of the Drum