Barbara Walters chats with Forward Syria
Swaying between art and seduction
Discussing monetary policy with the man in charge
Where the earth screams in horror
08/03/2010 - Issue 42
Jazz lives in Syria
by Jennifer Mackenzie
"This is our first time in Syria," Swiss jazz pianist Marc Perrenoud announces to the crowd. "Our first time in this beautiful Citadel of Damascus. And we don't want to go back to Switzerland!"
When his trio breaks into another song, with Cyril Regamey's drumming rolling off the walls and mixing with counter-patter from bassist Marco Muller, it's easy to see why both crowd and band are charmed. The musicians accelerate against each other until their melodies seem to be sprinting. Then, just as quickly, the drumming slows to a sashay through shallow, quiet ripples from the piano.
"It's somehow an exchange with the public," Muller says of the trio's performances, "to give some energy with music."
"We play very energetically—that's how we are, and how we play together, to try to send something to the people," Regamey adds.
And the energy flows both ways. "We know the tunes we'll play," Muller explains. "But not what will happen," Perrenoud chimes in.
"Because we play improvised music, we'll be in a different mood here," continues Muller. "We'll play differently in Damascus."
"The group sound is also very important in jazz," explains Jolanda Vujasinovic, the band's manager. "Every group or musician tries hard to find this sound. And what I like [about this trio] is that they really play together. They look at one another and smile together; they're really friends, and this shows in the music."
"The main thing is fun. Just fun," Muller agrees.
"Fun and fire," quips Perrenoud, and everyone laughs. Under the laughter, their music is a blend of many influences, from rock and roll to Bach chorals. And, the trio says, this re-working of other genres has fueled jazz from its beginnings.
"Basically, [early jazz musicians] took pop songs from the forties and improvised on them; you can do it with any kind of music," Muller explains.
"You can take a popular Syrian song," Perrenoud continues, "and people here can play it in their own way. Jazz today doesn't just have to do with the American tradition; it can be original Syrian jazz, like we now have European jazz which is very different from the American."
And because of this fluidity, Vujasinovic says, "music is a nice bridge between East and West, and a nice way to communicate between religions and cultures." The trio experienced this when they gave a workshop at the Higher Institute of Music. "The students were very open to learn," she says.
And the exchange was mutual. "People here are very easy to meet, and in two days we've taken in a lot and exchanged a lot of ideas," Perrenoud exclaims.
Happily surprised by, "the warm welcome from the [Syrian] people," he reflects, "it's always a very good experience to meet other cultures and people. To have our own view about other countries.
Sometimes the view we have from the news is one thing, and then you have your own experience, and it's completely different."
Vujasinovic agrees. "I think people here are very open to different religions—and I think other countries could learn a little from Syria," she concludes. Perhaps cross-cultural exchange operates on the same principle as good jazz: by warm improvisation. Whether the harmony is musical or cultural, as Perrenoud puts it, "you make your own.".
