tag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:/blogs/women-a-musical-travelogue?p=4Women: A Musical Travelogue2019-02-23T08:31:31-06:00Shanta Nurullahfalsetag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/63563052020-06-17T08:53:07-05:002023-12-10T13:17:26-06:00We Cannot Sing?<p><span class="font_large"><em>Upon viewing the Mississippi Children's Choir</em></span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">I WEEP</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">For our voices stilled</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">That we cannot sing</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Together</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Doing so may cause us</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">To harm each other</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">With droplets that emanate</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">From uplifted voices</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Our expressions of Spirit</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Manifest</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">I WEEP</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">For the masked and unmasked</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Facing an uncertain future</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Knowing not what and when</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And how to do</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">What we were born to do.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">When can we safely be</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Who we yearn to be?</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">How can we be together again</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">In LOVE?</span></p>
<p>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_8pUqXADTE</p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/63537262020-06-15T07:46:11-05:002023-09-14T07:47:48-05:00A Shedoobee Timeline<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/250662/abd767ade6db919ddc82e41facd6350d2d4d9332/original/img-20200615-072115706.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/250662/d9dec7d40110fb278233af37144573814a782f4a/original/shedoobee-cd-1.png/!!/b:W10=.png" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><span class="font_large">1986-88 I get laid off for the third time from my social work job at the Chicago Housing Authority. When the supervisor says, “We’ll be calling you back,” my response is “Lose my number.” I’d already been making more money in storytelling. So I took the entrepreneurial plunge, with a 6 month cushion of unemployment checks. Serendipitously, I get invited by Dr. Gail Christopher to join the first cohort of women to undergo small business training at the Women’s Self-Employment Project (WSEP). </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">My first WSEP project is to record my original stories. I find a producer, Calvin “Koco” Brunson, and take him a stack of these stories, hoping to put them to music. Koco sends me home with the task of choosing a theme, picking out the stories that fit with that theme, and then writing some more, lots more. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Koco works with me regularly for months, coaching me in songwriting, laying down tracks, convincing me to sing my own material, then going into a studio to record. It’s thrilling. I go home with two boxed reels of tape. I find an illustrator for my cover and mail everything off to Discmakers. The whole process is financed by a microloan from WSEP, a small bank loan, and half of a friend’s home equity loan. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Weeks later UPS delivers boxes of 1000 cassettes. The Adventures of Shedoobee: Searching for the Good Life is born!! </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">1988-1998 I sell Shedoobee from my car, my storytelling bag, at pop-up markets. Ladyslipper Catalog carries it. Kids love it. Parents report that they have to play Shedoobee every time they get in the car. Teachers use it to teach their health classes. I get a few refund requests from parents who object to Shedoobee learning how to meditate. Shedoobee cassettes are the go to gifts for every birthday party my kids attend. People stop buying cassettes. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">1999 Lajadjie takes Shedoobee to mainland China for her new job at the China-Hong Kong English School. She uses Shedoobee to help teach English. When I visit, kindergartners sing Shedoobee songs to me. I weep. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">2008 Rose converts a Shedoobee tape to an MP3 CD. I manually copy CDs for a 20th Anniversary reissue, which I sell from my storytelling bag. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">2015 Lucy and Cheryl invite me to a backyard party. By request, I bring a copy of Shedoobee . Their adult children go crazy, hugging and crying, like I’m a rock star or something. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">2016 My daughter Keewa has a baby and says that she and her friends want their children to know Shedoobee. Crickets. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">2020 I’m at home in pandemic isolation. Gigs are cancelled. Online teaching and performing aren’t really working very well. I generate a list of 100 Ways to Make Money. #1 Sell Shedoobee online. My laptop CD player is broken. Zahra uploads that 2008 CD to Audacity to convert to WAV files, which I rush off to CD Baby, without listening to any of it. Oops. I’m too far in. That’s my last forty dollars. The original tapes and artwork are buried in storage and possibly degraded anyway. I listen, there are glitches, but Shedoobee is still my fun, precious baby. She comes out tomorrow, my birthday, on your favorite online platforms.</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/58490772019-08-06T10:47:50-05:002022-08-12T13:05:09-05:00Toni Morrison<p><span class="font_large">August 6, 2019</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Today I mourn the loss of Toni Morrison. It's a deep grieving for her as mother, aunt, elder sister, friend and inspiration. As we do after a death, I think of the times I spent with her: seeing her brilliance in <em>The Pieces I Am </em>film; at Rockefeller Chapel, when she chuckled as she read from her work; at a literary banquet, where she conversed onstage with Oprah; and with each one of her novels, joyously anticipated, read and often reread.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Toni Morrison fed us, guided us, challenged us. She created pathways for our minds and hearts. I'll be forever grateful that she lived among us and that she has left us with the fruits of her genius, strength and imagination.</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/56563952019-02-23T08:31:31-06:002022-01-31T05:35:57-06:00On Black History Month<p><span class="font_large">February 23, 2019</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">This has been a good Black History Month for me, with storytelling performances in several area schools and libraries. Still nothing like the 80s and 90s, when I'd be fully booked by October, reserving two calendar days for rest and passing along gigs I couldn't do to other performers. But I'm grateful for the work and am still recognizing ways to improve as an artist and entrepreneur.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">My strangest experience was at the small private school where I've been teaching music for three years. During that time there have only been a few African-American students enrolled; this year only one. In mid-February I was approached by the director and head teacher. The conversation went something like this:</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Them (awkward and stammering): Hi, Miss Shanta. You know February is Black History Month. We're not black but you are.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Me: That's obvious</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Them: Well we were wondering, for the rest of the month, if you could teach the children all about black music. You know, blues, gospel, jazz.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Me: I've been doing that all along. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">They continued naively to ask how they could learn and teach their students about black history. I suggested books. They asked what books and where to find them. I naively suggested that they start with the books in their school library. But when I looked through said library I found only TWO, neither of them age/grade appropriate.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The whole encounter left me sizzling, spitting mad. This is 2019!! They pretend to be educators, yet so isolated in their own community that it had only just dawned on them that it might be good to gaze outward. I am certain that they are not alone.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I sent the director some links for recommended book lists. The head teacher sat in on my next class, taking copious notes. I reviewed the African and African-American songs and dances in our class repertoire and utilized the books <em>Freedom in Congo Square </em>and <em>This Jazz Man </em>in a lesson of history and music, for the students and their teachers.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">God help us all.</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/55899572019-01-10T13:23:51-06:002022-01-31T05:57:34-06:002018 Favorites II<p><span class="font_large">I Loved Presenting These Shows: </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em><strong>Storytelling at Woodridge Library</strong></em>. Occasionally I feel like I've done my very best; that I'm in the flow and the audience is totally with me. This was one of those magical evenings. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em><strong>Storytelling Residency for Dubuque (IA) Arts Council</strong></em>. 24 shows in 9 days in mostly rural Iowa schools. A unique cultural experience. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em><strong>Freedom Song Leaders at Square Roots Festival</strong></em> After a few years of school shows, it was refreshing to be at home (the workplace) with avid adult singers and friends. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em><strong>Maud Martha Out Loud.</strong></em> Joining the literary community in a marathon reading of Gwendolyn Brooks' only novel. Then reading "my" chapter again at the <em><strong>Blacks in Green Festival</strong></em>, sharing reminisces with Nora Brooks Blakeley, the icon's daughter. Then attending the dedication of the Gwendolyn Brooks Library at Chicago State University. The joys of living in Chicago!! </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em><strong>Sitarsys at the Chicago Jazz String Summit</strong></em>. Tomeka Reid responded to my suggestion about including non-Western strings in her programming. Our brand of jazz was enthusiastically received and I made some new friends. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em><strong>Sitar with Chicago Guantanamo Blues Exchange</strong></em>. What a blast playing with Chicago and Cuban musicians! Glimpses of what could have happened if I'd been able to take a sitar to Cuba in 2017. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em><strong>Sitarsys at the Evanston World Arts & Music Festiva</strong></em>l. The thrill of seeing people flock to the stage when we started playing. Thanks Dayna Calderon! </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em><strong>Black Earth Ensemble's 20th Anniversary at Constellation Chicago</strong></em>. Being one of the many who've played with BEE and adding sitar to a couple of tunes. Then being invited back on stage because Z and I were singing so loudly in the audience. Also receiving my first ever compliment from one of the city's jazz critics. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em><strong>Sitar with Lindblom's Boys Chorus.</strong></em> Playing an Indian melody and seeing the immense number of engaged and talented young people in Chicago's most maligned neighborhood. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em><strong>Classic Black at Chase Park.</strong></em> Presenting Contimuum:The Black Arts Movement at our neighborhood park with one of the movement's writers and a London music critic in the audience. Love performing with all our Classic Black alums - Mwata, David, Fred, Isaiah, Edward, Emily, Zahra, Atiba, Justin, Angel, Avreeayl, Jendayi, Nkosi!!</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong><em>Subbing for Cheryl Corley at Fleetwood-Jourdain Theatre. </em></strong>Presenting the NPR corresondent's beautifully written narration while she covered Aretha Franklin's funeral. Co-writer Lucy Smith's voice and mastery of myriad blues forms is amazing!!</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/55898702019-01-10T13:11:16-06:002022-03-11T01:05:31-06:002018 Favorites I<p><span class="font_large">I Loved These Shows:</span></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_large"><em>Sona Jobarteh at Chicago's World Music Festival. </em></span></strong><span class="font_large">The only Gambian woman touring professionally on kora, Sona's instrumental virtuosity, vocal and physical beauty, and band leading fire wowed me from first note to last. Tried my best to get an interview. Alas...</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong><em>Dayme Arocena at the Old Town School of Folk Music. </em></strong>Cuba is African as exemplied by Dayme and her conservatory bandmates. Their interpretations of traditional folksongs through a jazz lens was breathtaking.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong><em>Sisterfire at the Smithsonian Folklife Festival, especially Toshi Reagon's Big Lovely, Holly Near and Ysaye Barnwell.</em></strong> Curated by Toshi, the workshops and concerts brought together several generations of performers and attendees. She brought her mother out of retirement for the <strong><em>Bernice J</em></strong><em><strong>ohnson Reagon Songbook </strong></em>set and communal singing was the order of the weekend. But, for an event that focused on women of color, where were the black people of Chocolate City? Why doesn't Women's Music reach more people, especially the jazz women in town?</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong><em>Nicole Mitchell, Gregory Porter and Cory Henry at the Newport Jazz Festival. </em></strong>An abundance of musical riches and extreme weather in an idyllic setting. Christian McBride produced an amazing variety of events, with lots of women featured throughout the festival. And though I was seeking out the women, I had a great time with the brothers too.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong><em>Holly Near at the Old Town School. </em></strong>After seeing Holly in DC, I couldn't pass up a chance to see her at home. She and her accompanists were fabulous.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong><em>Shana Tucker at the Chicago Jazz String Summit.</em></strong> Shana's Chamber Soul, with her cello and vocal jams, was a delightful surprise. Pianist Amy Bormet and bassist Emma Dayhuff provided a solid foundation for the cellist's creativity.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong><em>Sweet Honey in the Rock's Art Talk at the U of Chicago's Logan Center. </em></strong>Moderated by activist scholar Barbara Ransby, current members reflected on the group's work over more than forty years. When audience members began to speak, there was an outpouring of love, gratitude, and respect for the significance of the group and its music in so many women's lives. It was wonderfully apparent that Sweet Honey is a Being far greater than the twenty-eight individuals that have contributed to it. </span></p>
<p><br> </p>
<p> </p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/55897182019-01-10T11:01:30-06:002019-01-10T11:01:30-06:00Holly Near at the Old Town School<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/250662/e06b3e1a4b78cfe367b2652f526d05090402e7d8/original/47689734-2114421485291038-8222422286514181172-n-jpg-nc-ht-scontent-cdninstagram.com/!!/undefined/b:W1sic2l6ZSIsImxhcmdlIl1d.com" class="size_l justify_center border_none" alt="" /><span class="font_large">September 28, 2018</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Now in her fiftieth year of performing, singer-songwriter Holly Near presented an evening of healing music for a full house at Chicago's Old Town School of Folk Music. After weeks of accusations, denials, emotional testimony and political posturing around Brett Kavanaugh's Supreme Court confirmation, both Near and her fans were in need of bonding, soothing and community fortification. Her musical offerings and storytelling were the perfect medicine. An astute observer and chronicler of current and historical events, Holly Near encouraged swift and strategic action in the remaining weeks before the midterm elections. She offered hope to cancer survivors and fatigued activists; welcomed and applauded recent movements led by young visionaries; and envisioned a time when all the movements, old and new, would come together to affect massive change.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Accompanied by master musicians Tammy Hall on piano and Jan Martinelli on bass, Holly's voice was strong, clear and beautiful throughout the night. Hall had two opportunities to show her talents, as composer on "Blue Soul" and as improviser on a journey through jazz, blues and gospel toward imaginative explorations of "We Shall Overcome." Martinelli presented a bass solo that showcased her amazing technique and melodicism.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">In support of her thirty-first album, Holly Near's tour is a testament to her importance to the Women's Music movement, to aging lesbians and other women. About men she mused, "if only good white men would stand up to those congressmen!"</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Ending with her anthem "Singing For Our Lives," Holly sent us home renewed and inspired.</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/54003932018-08-24T15:42:07-05:002018-08-24T15:42:07-05:00Newport - Day 3<p><span class="font_large">August 6, 2018 </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Sunday </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> <br>Today there are so many women at this festival that it's impossible to catch them all. As much as we'd love to see Jazzmeia Horn, our loyalty is to our friend Nicole Mitchell. We are excited to witness her debut at Newport and arrive early enough to catch her soundcheck. We spot her husband, Calvin Gantt, on his way in and he joins us in the third row. This is the closest we've been to a Newport stage so far. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Once the previous group clears the stage and the crew starts the setup for Dusty Wings, the band comes in. We shout greetings to Nicole and Fay, who acknowledge us, then engage in the final steps of show prep – mic placements, monitor adjustments and the prayer circle. Once the group is introduced, the music takes flight – lush harmonies, head bopping rhythms, wordless vocal explorations – and entrances us. Taylor Ho Bynum’s cornet and fluegelhorn playing combines beautifully with Nicole’s flutes and Fay Victor’s voice. Rashaan Carter? And Shirazette Tinnin provide the rhythmic foundation for Nicole’s original compositions, including “Intuition,” “He Shimmered,” a tribute to AACM co-founder Muhal Richard Abrams, “Dusty Wings Tinged With Gold,”and a parting number reminding us that our lives are “ours to design.” </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We join in the well deserved standing ovation. Then I follow Calvin backstage to congratulate the musicians and take a few pics. Nicole expressed her delight and gratitude that Zahra and I were in the audience for what she would later call a “milestone.” </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We then scurried off to catch more performances – a hard choice. Finding room again in front of the Fort Adams big screen, we lowered ourselves into our rental chairs, awkward and painful for me. A neighbor offered her higher chair, but I declined. “I’m down now” was my embarrassed response. And down I stayed through sets by Artemis, a women’s super group, and Charles Lloyd. I was pleased that I’d already featured most of the women in my social media posts and now actually had a chance to experience them in performance. This powerhouse band included vocalist Cecile McLorin Salvant, pianist Renee Rosnes, clarinetist Anat Cohen, saxophonist Melissa Aldana, Ingrid Jensen on trumpet, Noriko Ueda on bass, and Allison Miller on drums. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I reflected on the phenomena of musical taste. Nicole’s music touched my soul, whereas the couple next to us obviously couldn’t relate to her, leaving her set early. The music that I love most makes me move and literally fills me up, a physical sensation that starts in my chest and moves to the top of my head. Once I feel that, I’m pretty much good to go. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The beauty of Newport, and of Christian Mc Bride’s selection of musicians, was that there was literally something for everyone. You could plant yourself at one of the four stages and spend the entire day there. Or you could move around, sampling and searching for your groove. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We stayed at the Fort Adams stage to hear saxophonist Charles Lloyd, a longtime favorite of mine. The festival was celebrating his 80th birthday and featured him in performances all three days. George Wein, the festival’s creator, even came on stage to introduce this honored guest. After a few beautiful numbers, Lloyd was joined by Lucinda Williams, with whom he’d done a recent recording. The audience gave these veterans lots of love and, after their set, waited in a long line for their autographs. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">After being helped to my feet from that awful rental chair, I walked with Zahra in search of food and more music. We ran into Dusty Wings folk, networking and reflecting on Nicole’s Newport debut. We delighted in witnessing the interaction between Nicole and George Wein, who warmly affirmed her presence at his big party. We also caught a bit of Jane Bunnett and Maqueque, an all women’s group from Cuba. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Then we went back to “the Fort” to see Gregory Porter, who we listen to a lot at home and saw once at Chicago’s Millennium Park. His beautiful voice and loving energy are worth experiencing time and again. We enjoyed singing along to our favorites, including his finale “There will be no love dying here.” It was another emotionally full moment and a fitting end to my Newport adventure.</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/53934212018-08-19T10:47:18-05:002018-08-19T10:47:18-05:00Newport - Day 2<p><span class="font_large">Saturday </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">August 4, 2018 </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">RAIN </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">At every turning point we questioned going forward and chose to go just a little further. We reached the parking lot and couldn’t see the point of going out in rain like this and flash flood warnings dinging our phones. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Why weren’t they shutting down the festival for the day?!! </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We napped briefly, then decided to brave the elements, since the rainfall seemed lighter. We agreed that Misery would signal an end to our day. Inundation at the shuttle line and a “Why are you here?!” from security personnel deterred us not. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We waded through the umbrellaed throngs, finding a spot to listen to one Pat Metheny song. Soaked to the skin, water pooling in our shoes, we gave each other the sign and headed for the gate with its NO REENTRY sign. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Back in the car our Newport app declared the weather event OVER and the fest ON for the rest of the day. We focused not on who we were missing, rather on our need for relief from our everywhere wetness. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Each day we make peace with our choices.</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/53847382018-08-12T16:54:33-05:002018-08-12T16:54:33-05:00Newport Jazz Festival - Day 1<p> <span class="font_large">Friday, August 3 </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Storyteller friend Valerie Tutson met us for breakfast in our hotel. We did some delightful catching up, reflecting on our artistic practice, and brainstorming an exciting retreat idea. Then we embarked on our Newport Jazz Festival adventure. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Surprised by a brief rain shower, Zahra and I made the drive from Warwick, RI to Newport anyway, a gorgeous one hour trip. The GPS confused me at the fork for Newport, necessitating some rerouting and backtracking. But we arrived at Fort Adams State Park, parked the car, and took the school bus shuttle to the festival entrance, where our backpacks were searched and we were wanded by security. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We made it to the Fort Adams stage in time to see the DIVA Jazz Orchestra, a multi-generational all women’s big band based in New York. It’s DIVA’s 25th year, but first appearance at Newport. Bandleader/drummer Sherrie Maricle graciously acknowledged Christian McBride’s invitation. This reassured me that my continued musical efforts can still bear more fruit. I loved that each composition the band performed had been composed by a band member and usually featured a solo by the composer and one or two other instrumentalists. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">At the conclusion of DIVA’s performance we had planned to move to another stage, but saw that an organ (Zahra’s favorite) was being set up for the next act, Cory Henry and the Funk Apostles. This group performed a mix of covers and original tunes. Every band member was masterful and the funk was in full effect. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Although organist/lead singer Cory Henry’s messages were about love and hope, there was also an urgency that spoke to these troubled times. Reworked lyrics like “we all got to be staying alive” and “life goin’ nowhere, somebody help me please” nearly brought me to tears. By the end of the Funk Apostles set, I was so full that I didn’t even want to hear any more music for a while. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Nonetheless, we rolled up our blanket and walked to the Harbor Stage, where Alicia Olatuja’s performance had already begun. There were no seats available, no shade, and no place to spread a blanket, so we stood in the sun and listened to this gifted vocalist. After hearing a couple of songs, I left to seek relief on several levels. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Zahra joined me later and we shopped a bit and pondered our next move, finally opting to leave the festival for the day. The sun had taken its toll. More endurance needed for the rest of the weekend. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">When parking earlier, we hadn’t noticed our parking lot number. So we got off the shuttle bus at the wrong lot. After much searching we were aided by a young man in a golf cart who reunited us with our rental car. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Our car antics resumed after we purchased groceries and sandwiches at a strip mall on the way to our hotel. I punched the wrong option on my phone and then couldn’t access the GPS for directions to the hotel. So Zahra activated hers which said “turn right, turn left.” Then “get in the left lane, turn right, make a U-turn.” WTF!! Then both our phones started talking at the same time – one was pointing us to the highway; the other gave directions back to the grocery store. We had some good laughs and eventually reached our destination.</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/53836382018-08-11T11:53:50-05:002018-08-12T16:47:36-05:00Heading to Newport<p><span class="font_large"><span style="font-size: 12px;">August</span> 1, 2018 </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Today I took my electric guitar and electric bass to the Montessori school. The four and five year olds had some prior experience (“Daddy has one of those”) and made thoughtful observations about electricity and about the instruments. The two and three year olds enjoyed dancing to my rocked out versions of some of our favorite songs, especially “La Bamba.” </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">My afternoon private lessons were interesting. It was only my second lesson with my new adult student. He brought in one of his church songs and we decoded it. His challenges were in feeling the one and fulfilling his job as timekeeper. Bringing in a written bass part for “Oye Como Va” helped him understand the tune a bit better. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">My revelation for the day was the teen who’s been with me for several months. Just when I thought I’d given him all I could for the sitar, I discovered that he can’t read music. “Don’t make any assumptions” continues to be my life lesson. This teen is so sharp, talented, intuitive and musically experienced that I never assessed his skill set. Duh. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The work day done, we turned to tying up loose ends and packing for the trip. We slept for a maximum of three hours, then left for the airport at 4 a.m. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">August 2 </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">My wheelchair attendant was very chatty and revealed a lot about herself in this statement: “Today’s a good day to get out of Chicago. There’s gonna be trouble – protesters and Lollapalooza.” </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">What made her think that two black women wouldn’t be in favor of a march to remind our white neighbors and visitors that gun violence in our neighborhoods should be their problem too. And what’s wrong with young people gathering to experience music? </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Both flights (O’Hare to Washington, then a smaller jet to Providence) were uncomfortable – cramped seating. On the second plane I was assigned the very last seat, next to the bathroom. It was an hourlong sensory nightmare. As I stood up to exit, my left kneecap popped out of socket and I was momentarily stuck in a very painful position. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">While waiting for me to emerge, Zahra was met with rudeness as she inquired about my wheelchair. This woman was so brash that she didn’t even linger for a tip. Guess she doesn’t get many.</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/53836362018-08-11T11:49:12-05:002022-05-16T09:05:47-05:00A Full July<p><span class="font_large">July 26, 2018 </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">July has been a perfect month. Within it, I have been able to express and experience every aspect of my current self: </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Mother/Grandmother – conversations with Keewa and time with her children. A moment that has sustained me: Faraz hears my voice at the bottom of the stairs and yells “Mommy! Mommy! Grandma’s here!! Grandma’s here!!” Then he waits for me at the door. Warm fuzzies. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Wife/Collaborator – every moment with Z is a gift. Traveling to DC together was joyful, even when it was hard. We care and take care of each other. We performed this summer in every grouping we’ve created: ShaZah doing Wiggleworms at Navy Pier; Classic Black at Night Out in the Parks; Freedom Song Leaders at Square Roots; Sitarsys at Evanston World Arts & Music Festival. Additionally, we’ve experienced music together at Sisterfire and The Color Purple. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Storyteller/Musician – shows in Genoa, Western Springs, Millennium Park, and Willye White Park. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Teaching Artist – Wiggleworms at Old Town School and Montessori Gifted Prep; private lessons with K (sitar) and W (bass). </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Writer/Researcher – Continuing daily Instagram and facebook posts on musical women; documenting Sisterfire experiences; conducting interviews in DC. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Daughter – taking Mother shopping and to renew her driver’s license (at 92!!); including her in gigs and outings (Chase Park, Evanston, Color Purple). </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I love my life!!</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/53836292018-08-11T11:44:16-05:002022-05-26T10:07:25-05:00Sisterfire Day 2<p><span class="font_large">. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">July 8, 2018 </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Sunday </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Today is the big Sisterfire Festival day. We get a slow start, though, opting to skip the picnic. Instead we get carryout sandwiches and head for the 2 pm Narrative stage. Our Uber driver doesn’t know her way around DC. She finally drops us at the opposite end of The Mall from where we need to be (I really think she thought we were going to a shopping mall). We’re relieved to be out of her car and make the trek to the Folklife Festival site. Along the way we see Catalonians building a human tower and spot the location of our evening concert. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We’re late, but we do hear poetry – Black Radical Lesbian Poetry. I especially like the butch who spoke of her feminism not pleasing anyone: too masculine for some (not feminine enough), not masculine enough for others (too feminine). I want a copy of that poem, for I identify completely. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">In another piece, this same poet refers to Gil Scott Heron: “The revolution will not be televised…the revolution will be LIVE.” This reveals myself to me as no longer believing that a revolution is coming – though it’s needed now more than ever. Total systemic change, Really? In my lifetime? </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Leaving the Narrative stage, I freeze when I have a chance to approach Toshi Reagon. This is a very different me than the one who was boldly confident enough to get interviews from Alice Coltrane and Mary Lou Williams. How do I expect to get this project done; to reach goals I’ve set for myself and for which I’ve been funded? </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">In looking for a spot in which to eat our sandwiches, we stumble upon the festival picnic area and are urged to join those who are still there. We meet Kali Morgan, a dreadlocked leather merchant/sexuality expert who tells us about Sister Space, an upcoming festival. Her festival partner, Jo-Ann McIntyre, gives me an interview right then and there, pulling in a longtime producer of women’s events, Polly Laurelchild-Hertig. All three express an interest in our music and my project, which Z keeps urging me to talk about. My different endeavors, though related, seem compartmentalized in my brain, making it hard for me to promote everything at once. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We arrive late to the next event but hear most of the introductions and the performance by In Process, giving me a glimpse of what I might look like on stage five or ten years from now: old, lively, not elderly. The discussion and Q&A center around creating spaces for WOC performers (a Roadwork mission) and passing the torch to young women interested in “the work.” The daughter of one of the In Process singers speaks to the importance of Roadwork when, as a teen, she got a chance to learn many aspects of concert production through that organization, paving the way for her work as an adult. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">After this session, we choose our place on the grass in front of the Ralph Rinzler Stage and await the main event, which opens with a welcome by the director of the Smithsonian Folklife Festival, Sabrina Lynn Motley. It’s inspiring to see a black woman in that position. As she describes the Smithsonian’s plans for the coming year, I can see us applying all of our performing entities, there and at the Kennedy’s Millennium Stage. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Toshi Reagon and Big Lovely come on as pure fire, black lesbian rock and roll. Toshi’s energy and command of her band and the stage defy her difficulty walking on the festival grounds. Big Lovely is a tight band, made even more impressive as it serves as house band throughout the evening, including performances by Martha Redbone, a singer-songwriter whose message reflects her identity as Black and Native (Cherokee, Choctaw) and Sudanese-American performer Alsarah. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">In addition to Big Lovely and Martha Redbone, my favorite performances of the evening are: </span></p>
<ul> <li><span class="font_large">Urban Bush Women, represented at first by a lone dancer – tall, thin, dark, wild haired, powerful warrior kind of woman. She enthralls the audience with her strength and grace, as she creates lines and shapes across the stage. She is then joined by three other women who match her in beauty and power. Their feet become percussion instruments, in choreography reminiscent of the South African gumboot dance. </span></li> <li><span class="font_large">Holly Near, veteran of the Women’s Music movement and crowd favorite. Her lyrics and banter speak to the current political climate, the need for activism, and the personal experiences of love, loss, and aging. There is an earnestness to her singing that touches and opens the heart and a familiarity with her songs that inspires the attendees to sing, dance, and rejoice. Surely the roar of “We’re still here!!” can be heard for miles. </span></li> <li><span class="font_large">Ariel Horowitz, classical violinist (who also played in the house band). Daughter of Roadwork co-founder, Amy Horowitz, her virtuoso performance is stunning.</span></li> <li>
<span class="font_large"> </span><span class="font_large">The Bernice Johnson Reagon Songbook, featuring the retired master of song herself under Toshi’s leadership. Although this closing set is rather long, it includes enough soul-stirring renditions of Sweet Honey in the Rock favorites and freedom songs to send us off full and satisfied. </span>
</li>
</ul>
<p><span class="font_large">I am left, however, with a question about why this festival, a celebration of diverse women's voices, is not attended by more people of color. What is the disconnect between women's music and black music lovers, especially in "Chocolate City?" Is it the lyrical content? homophobia? distrust? a lack of outreach/partnerships?</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I long for the day when walls fall down.</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/53714152018-08-01T19:59:47-05:002021-11-01T06:01:35-05:00Sisterfire Day 1<p><span class="font_large">July 7, 2018 </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We stay in, relaxing and luxuriating with Law & Order and bits of movies on HBO – a big screen contrast to our tiny screen options at home (yes, we love TV). we arrange meetups and emerge to join the line at the Kennedy Center – a beautiful artistic place. The venue is smaller than we expected, but it’s free and we’re excited. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We are dressed for the occasion: me in yellow with purple; Z in blues and oranges. An aged belle behind us compliments our clothing and we converse about age and place. Her husband joins us. The line moves. We find good seats, saving two for the others in our party. The venue fills. We spot Holly Near and Toshi Reagon. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We hold the seats for as long as we can. I’m sitting next to our companions in line and note that she is referring to us and others as “gal” and “girl”. They’ve already let us know that they don’t know what they’re in for. They manage to make it through the first set of Be Steadwell’s “queer pop”; of beats and layers and beat box; of “I love her” and “they wish they could fuck like us.” But when the MC asks us to clap and stomp if we think something’s wrong with our country, then the white house, then trump, the old couple bolts. We have dishonored the one they blindly follow. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Carolyn Malachi then uses her techno gear for drumbeats and the voice of MLK. Kandra Rutledge rocks the bass while Carolyn sings and raps and sings some more, closing with a fresh take on “Four Women,” an anthem for this new day. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Toshi takes the stage to introduce Ysaye, our star/teacher/root woman. Overalls, bald pate, bracelets. Actually, one arm braceleted; the other showing frailty. But she is strong and sings a prayer; providing context and correction in Kumbayah. “Don’t give them a pass when they trivialize the pain and longing in that song.” </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Ysaye then calls up the spirit of Odetta – “Take this hammer and sing when the power of the women comes down.” Me and Z and a few others take the bass. It is low. We are few. She makes us stand. Z’s voice is strong and beautiful. I do what I can to hold it under harmony and counterpoint. We all rejoice in the community of song. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Tristen and Angela, then Taylor, join us as we file out. We make Chicago and Howard connections, then Uber to the afterset, stopping first to explore the Tibet and African shops. There are so many stairs everywhere we go. My knees cry out on the descents, but I am determined. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We are carded at the gay bar, then greeted warmly at the top of the stairs. There are gatherings of women and gatherings of men. Tristen and Taylor play foosball and video games, while we meet and mingle with the women, who know us now as “the bass singers.” There’s a sister from Oakland and a neighbor from Chicago. We inherit a table and are joined by T & T, then a new friend for Burkina Faso via Paris. There is laughter and sarcasm. Then hunger kicks in. As we leave I am stopped by the woman who got one of our saved seats. She thanks me for making her night with my joyful singing. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We go for falafels. I can’t bear another set of stairs. I people watch and fall in love with Angela, who has given so freely of her time and presence – Zahra’s friend for the ages. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">All but one of our Uber drivers has been male African. We try to connect with each one. None has been to Chicago. But here we are. Together for a moment. Sharing our Blackness.</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/53714122018-08-01T19:49:30-05:002022-03-24T08:12:32-05:00Washington, D.C.<p><span class="font_large">July 6, 2018 </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Friday </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We enjoy </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">the spaciousness </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Of our King suite </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">A wall sized window </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The lack of deadlines and alarms </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And each other </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Eventually </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We extricate ourselves </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">From our hotel paradise </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">To explore The Mall </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">That holds the hopes </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And dreams of protesters </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And inaugural attendees </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We find a panel of disparate musicians, </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Roma and Baul </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Whose purity of spirit and song </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Entrance us </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I step out of my zone of comfort </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Moving forward to pose a question </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">About the women in their cultures </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And delight in the Sufi’s answer </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">About each of us containing </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Both male and female </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And about music being </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">An attempt to reach </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The Divine </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">In ourselves </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The Catalonian betrays a similarity </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">That we, in our world, struggle against: </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Women only as singers and dancers. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We spot our New Museum </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">But can’t get in </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">So we sit by its fountain </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Resting and longing for entry </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Even the gift shop causes </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Pangs of the heart </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We shall try again tomorrow </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">(We do, and it is for naught) </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">There is, however, more value </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">In the day </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">For our pilgrimage requires that </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We pay homage to our King </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Cab driver, accented black man, </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Says he knows the way </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">But does not </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Dropping us, instead, </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">To the memorial for FDR </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">At which, despite our disappointment, </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We are inspired by his words </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">His four terms </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And, of course, </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">His Eleanor. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">A father and his daughter, </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Who we’ve met before </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">(and will again) </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Point us in the right direction. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We delight in the massiveness and </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Beauty of the statue of </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Martin </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">He emerges from a mountain </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And gazes across the water </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">To Lincoln? </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">To the world he envisions </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">For us? </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Will the children brought here </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Remember to pursue his </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Dream?</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/53713562018-08-01T19:43:24-05:002018-08-01T19:43:24-05:00Airport Vignettes<p><span class="font_large">July 5, 2018 </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">Wheeling through back corridors </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Midway yields some surprises </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">4th floor theme: The Art Institute </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Nat King Cole sings “Mona Lisa” </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">3rd floor: Buckingham Fountain </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Dinah Washington’s lyrics </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Include a fountain </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">My Baltimorean wheelchair attendant </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">(yes, I ride in style) </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Sports a facial tattoo </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And others, the edges visible on her neck </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">A nubby golden grill </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Baby locs </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And a winning personality </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">As we share our hopes </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Of seeing OUR new museum </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">She vaguely acknowledges </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Hearing about it </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">But wonders how she’d ever </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Figure out how to get </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">From Baltimore to DC </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We bond over the dangers </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Of living in our respective cities </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">She works hard </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">At staying busy </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And out of whatever </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Unspoken hell she’s been through</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/53713532018-08-01T19:38:35-05:002018-08-01T19:38:35-05:00ShaZah: Wiggleworms at Navy Pier<p><span class="font_large">July 1, 2018 </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Summer Morning </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">EXCESSIVE HEAT WARNING </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We complain, but maintain </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Entertaining those </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Who value what we do so much </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">That they endure the heat </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">For as long as they can </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">While we play on </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Finding joy </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">In the musical moments </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">That sustain us </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And our loyal people</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/53713492018-08-01T19:23:33-05:002021-09-10T17:39:20-05:00Mother's Day<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">May 13, 2018 </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Today I’m not internally demanding that I hear from my children today. K got hers in yesterday. It was such a gift to experience the expanded version of Baby Soul Jam. Hundreds of families partying in community. The activism of Kido and Mama Fresh – creating family activities on the southside. I sat with Mother and we watched over Noni. When Faraz got there, he used Mother as home base while he explored the scene under his father’s watchful eye. After the event we had family brunch downstairs at Promontory’s restaurant. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Mother still expected to go out to eat on the actual day of Mother’s Day, but asked that I wait until after her gift for me was delivered. By mid-afternoon we headed out and ate at a Chinatown restaurant before going to the Goodman to see “Having Our Say.” I was underwhelmed by the show, then a bit miffed when, during intermission, Mother nonchalantly mentioned that she had seen it before. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">As we began our journey home, I turned on WDCB and heard my sitar on the car radio. It was Dee Alexander playing “Naikwa” on her jazz show. I teared up as I listened to the song that Vandy Harris wrote when my daughter Naikwa was born, then played at her funeral twenty years later. Mother turned to me and said, “Happy Mother’s Day.” Indeed.</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/52121582018-05-01T16:06:57-05:002021-09-16T23:45:10-05:00BEE at 20<p><span class="font_large">April 28, 2018 </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Black Earth Ensemble's 20th Celebration </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Received a invitation to come to the twentieth year celebration of Nicole Mitchell’s Black Earth Ensemble at Constellation Chicago. When I accepted the invitation to play, Niki seemed genuinely pleased. I eagerly awaited the opportunity to share in the music of my friend of great accomplishments. I tried my best not to be worried about how I’d do. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Upon arriving, Black Earth Ensemble was finishing up the soundcheck. When Niki saw that I was there, she urged me to set up quickly, and launched into “South Shore” before I’d gotten fully tuned. The melody came back to me and I found my way into the song and a little solo exploration. Resumed tuning, then settled into my seat as part of the arriving audience. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Uncharacteristically, Nicole opened the concert by talking instead of playing. It was a joyful, welcoming introduction to the program, during which she explained that BEE was always about change, so the personnel was always changing, including around forty musicians over the twenty years of music making. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">As a retrospective slideshow filled the back curtain, the first tune, “Africa Rising,” opened with the violin work of Samuel Willams/Savoir Faire who, along with Darius Savage, was in the first iteration of BEE. Ugochi Nwaogwugwu was called up, giving rich, spirited voice to Nicole’s lyrics and chants. When she asked the audience if they recognized the song, Niki remarked that the concert could unfold like a game of “Name That Tune.” </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I wish I’d had the foresight to document the set list as the concert progressed. But I was caught up in the power of the music and of my impending guest appearance. At one point, though, I turned my worry into an affiirmation that this moment was not about me and that I could just be open to what could come through me. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">When Niki introduced me, she also called up Ugochi and Zahra to vocalize. They did a compelling introduction to “Three Blue Stones”, while I added embellishments. I kept adjusting my tuning and never really felt that I’d gotten it right. After a while Niki signaled for my solo and I let it flow. I also soloed on South Shore, as well as playing on the melody. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Enough about me. Nicole Mitchell’s music was amazing, as was the creativity and musicianship of the band: cellist Tomeka Reid and bassist Joshua Abrams, (who may well be Nicole’s most frequent collaborators); drummer Marcus Evans and percussionist JoVia Armstrong; guitarist Alex Wing and pianist Jim Baker. There were songs with multiple time signatures; passages of dizzying speed and dexterity; and lyrics reflecting these times and imagined futures. At one point, during the second half, Nicole turned to the band and asked, “Wanna get harder?” They agreed, expertly performing compositions that had the front row of musicians in the audience physically trying to comprehend rhythms and structures. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">During the intermission, friends and fans mingled, sharing stories of and praise for Nicole’s amazing career and creative output, including awards, fellowships, international appearances, and a number of performing ensembles. Many of those present remembered the soft spoken woman who has become a powerful bandleader and a veritable force of nature. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Several musical friends arrived during the second half, probably following gigs of their own. When she realized it, Nicole invited bassist Junius Paul and drummer Isaiah Spencer to sit in, after checking in with Josh and Marcus about relinquishing their spots and instruments. I shouted to Niki that Ben Lamar Gay was also present, so he joined the group on cornet. What followed was a spirited piece, which turned into an exchange between JoVia and Isaiah, which Zahra described as Africa drums mixing with Double Dutch; a moment so intense that Nicole just took a seat in the audience to enjoy it along with us. Master drummers carried us home. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">BEE’s parting song had the sound and feel of South Africa, with a chant that became a communal sing of “Peace and love til I see you again” Zahra and I got to add our energy and harmonies, once Niki heard what we were doing on the sidelines. It was a beautiful ending to a perfect celebration.</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/52121562018-05-01T16:04:03-05:002018-05-01T16:04:03-05:00Sitarsys at Oakton<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">April 21, 2018 </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We’re ready to play. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">In her stage debut </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Grandbaby Noni spits up </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">As Zahra causes a spill. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Half the band disappears </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">For the dual cleanup. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">The music begins. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Listeners eat. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We play to a silent reception. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Don’t know if we’re connecting </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Until after the music ends. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">Then there is talk of </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Transcendence </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Journey </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Message </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Transformation </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">How often do we depend on feedback </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">To validate our work? </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Don’t we know who we are? </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Healing is not a loud act.</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/51473492018-03-25T17:42:41-05:002018-03-25T17:42:41-05:00Aretha<p><span class="font_large">Aretha </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">You’ve been playing on my life’s soundtrack for a long long time </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">From Mother’s record club arrivals </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em>I’ve Never Loved a Man</em> </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">To college anthems </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em>All I’m asking for is a little Respect</em> </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Spell it now </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em>Spirit in the Dark</em> </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">Ebony and Jet keeping us apprised of </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Your weight loss journeys (you & Luther & Oprah) </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Your husbands (but Aretha, Glenn Turman was so cute!) </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And your tyrannical father </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em>I say a little prayer for you</em> </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">I saw you once </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">At the Arie Crown in McCormick Place </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">An awful venue </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Yet, decades later, they’re still </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Staging shows there </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">I don’t know who anointed you </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Queen of Soul </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">But you wore it well </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Your finest crown being </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The one you rocked at Obama’s </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Swearing-in </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">But the furs Aretha </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Cannot black folk be </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Politically correct too? </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And a fur jacket </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Inside? </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">On the Kennedy Honors stage? </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">Aretha </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">You family </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And we love you </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Happy Birthday</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/50731862018-02-12T12:59:47-06:002022-03-24T03:59:46-05:00Ella Jenkins<p><span class="font_large">In 2017 Ella Jenkins was recognized by the National Endowment for the Arts as a National Heritage Fellow. This award was an acknowledgement of over fifty years of artistic and humanitarian work on behalf of the world's children. Ms. Jenkins was a trailblazer, advocate, and innovator in children's entertainment, music education, and multiculturalism. All of us who have worked in these fields are indebted to Ella Jenkins.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Through her amazing recording output of 40 albums on the Folkways (later Smithsonian Folkways) label, children in untold numbers of homes and classrooms have been exposed to rhythms, games and stories from Ella Jenkins' Chicago childhood, her world travels and research in music and culture.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Until fairly recently, she toured as a solo performer, sharing her warmth, joy, and love of music with audiences around the globe. Fellow Chicagoans were especially privileged to bask in her glow, as she was often out and about, performing and enjoying the city. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">My Ella Jenkins Moments:</span></p>
<ul> <li><span class="font_large">Appearing with her on a local cable TV show. In our short time together, before and after the taping, she gave me years' worth of mentoring and encouragement for my fairly new career as a storyteller.</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">At the National Black Storytelling Festival and Conference, where she was receiving the Zora Neale Hurston Award. Although she graciously accepted the award, she was adamant that she was "a children's musician, not a storyteller."</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">One morning she came into Women and Children First Bookstore while I was cashiering. She insisted that I accompany her back to a nearby restaurant to meet her friends. She presented me to them as "a great storyteller." What an honor.</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">Observing her adoring fans at a 90th birthday concert. She remarked that at least four generations had grown up with her music. At the end of the show, a huge line formed to greet Ella Jenkins and get pictures taken with her.</span></li>
</ul>
<p><span class="font_large">My friend, Tim Ferrin, is producing a full-length independent documentary on Ella Jenkins. To see a trailer for <em>We'll Sing a Song Together, </em>go to https://www.facebook.com/ellajenkinsfilm/videos/1949377561963782/</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Let's all sing songs together.</span></p>
<p> </p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/50524422018-01-30T18:23:54-06:002018-01-30T18:23:54-06:00More About the Grammy Telecast<p><span class="font_large">Janelle Monae has consistently presented herself as a strong, self-respecting, dignified black woman artist/activist. She did us proud Sunday night while introducing Kesha:</span></p>
<p><em><span class="font_large">Tonight, I am proud to stand in solidarity as not just an artist, but a young woman with my fellow sisters in this room who make up the music industry: artists, writers, assistants, publicists, CEOs, producers, engineers, and women from all sectors of the business. We are also daughters, wives, mothers, sisters, and human beings. We come in peace, but we mean business. And to those who would dare try and silence us, we offer you two words: Time's Up. We say Time's Up for pay inequality, Time's Up for discrimination, Time's Up for harassment of any kind, and Time's Up for the abuse of power. Because you see, it’s not just going on in Hollywood, it’s not just going on in Washington, it's right here in our industry as well. </span></em><br> </p>
<p><em><span class="font_large">And just as we have the power to shape culture, we also have the power to undo the culture that does not serve us well. So, let's work together, women and men, as a united music industry committed to creating more safe work environments, equal pay, and access for all women. </span></em></p>
<p><em><span class="font_large">And as artists so often do, our next performer embodies the great tradition of delivering important social messages through their music. This fearless two-time Grammy nominee inspired so many of us including myself, when she spoke her truth on her album, Rainbow, which was nominated for best pop vocal album tonight. Here to sing "Praying,” joined by Cyndi Lauper, Camila Cabello, Andra Day, Bebe Rexha, Julia Michaels and the Resistance Revival Chorus, we are honored to stand with you and welcome you, Kesha.</span></em></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Surrounded and supported by a sea of white clad vocalists, Kesha then gave a powerful performance of her song, obviously directed at the man and men who have abused her, and whose grip was upheld in her court battle against them.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">This was one of several socially conscious moments in the schizophrenic Grammy show. Women performed; except for Lorde, the only Album of the Year nominee who didn't. Women spoke. But women did not win these career boosting awards in any of the top categories, except Best New Artist.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">When questioned about this situation after the show, Recording Academy President Neil Portnow shrugged and said that women needed to "step up." Amid very strong criticism for the sexism of his remark and attitude, Portnow backpedalled, played the out of context card, and declared his undying love and support for women in the music industry.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The fact remains that toppling the patriarchy is needed in all aspects of this society and those in power are not going to let go willingly. So we will sing, shout, speak our truths, as we continue the momentum of our movements as the walls come tumbling down.</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/50510122018-01-30T15:01:38-06:002018-01-30T15:01:38-06:00A Woman-Centered Grammy Salute<p><span class="font_large">January 29, 2018</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Although it was not apparent from the 60th Grammy telecast on CBS , quite a few women won Grammy awards this year. We were highly visible as presenters and performers, with many standout performances, among them <strong>Pink</strong>, <strong>SZA, Kesha, Rihanna, and Patti LuPone </strong>. But only one woman was handed the golden gramophone during the television broadcast - <strong>Alessia Cara </strong>for Best New Artist. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">So here are the others, who you might have seen during the streaming coverage earlier in the day:</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Aida Cuevas </strong>- Best Regional Mexican Music Album: <em>Arriero Somos Versiones Acusticas</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Aimee Mann </strong>- Best Folk Album: <em>Mental Illness</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Anne Schwanewilms </strong>(soloist) - Best Opera Recording: <em>Berg/Wozzeck</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Barbara Hannigan </strong>- Best Classical Solo Vocal Album: <em>Crazy Girl Crazy</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Brittany Howard</strong>/Alabama Shakes - Best American Roots Performance: <em>Killer Diller Blues</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Carrie Fisher </strong>- Best Spoken Word Album: <em>The Princess Diarist</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Cece Winans </strong>- Best Gospel Performance/Song: <em>Never Have to Be Alone </em>AND Best Gospel Album: <em>Let Them Fall in Love</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Cecile McLorin Salvant </strong>- Best Jazz Vocal Album: <em>Dreams and Daggers</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Darcy Proper, Jane Ira Bloom </strong>and others - Best Surround Sound Album: <em>Early Americans</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Erika Ender </strong>and other writers - Song of the Year: <em>Despacito</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Jennifer Higdon </strong>- Best Contemporary Classical Composition: <em>Viola Concerto</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Karen Fairchild and Kimberly Schlapman </strong>of Little Big Town - Best Country Duo/Group Performance: <em>Better Man</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Lisa Loeb </strong>- Best Children's Album: <em>Feel What You Feel</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Lynell George </strong>- Best Album Notes: <em>Otis Redding Live at the Whisky A Go Go</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Patricia Kopatchinskaja </strong>with the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra: Best Chamber Music/Small Ensemble Performance: <em>Death and the Maiden</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Rhonda Vincent </strong>& The Rage - Best Bluegrass Album (Tie): <em>In Concert Vol. 1</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Reba McEntire </strong>- Best Roots Gospel Album: <em>Sing It Now</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Sarah Anthony, Laura Lancaster</strong>, et al - Best Music Film: <em>The Defiant Ones</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>Shakira</strong> - Best Latin Pop Album: <em>El Dorado</em></span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">In addition, <strong>Rhianna</strong> was featured on Kendrick Lamar's Best Rap/Sung Performance: <em>Loyalty</em></span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">Congratulations to these Grammy winners!!! </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And to the nominees. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And to every woman who made a recording in 2017 (myself included).</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/50332242018-01-19T18:21:34-06:002023-12-10T10:49:30-06:00Nicole Mitchell<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">I first met Nicole in 1992 when musician friend Maia and I came together to jam at my house. Niki, as she was known then, had attracted Maia’s attention as a busker on an ‘L’ platform or tunnel. She joined us and we hit it off, two flutes and a sitar. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">After we had come together a few times, I was asked to participate in a benefit for Light Henry Huff at the Hothouse, when it was on Milwaukee Avenue. Rather than do a solo performance, I suggested playing with Maia and Niki. We were so well received that we decided to form a group and keep playing together. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Thus Samana was born. We settled upon the concept of an all-women’s group playing spiritually uplifting music. For eight years we rehearsed almost every Saturday morning at 6, then again on Thurdays at 7 pm. We prayed at the beginning of each rehearsal and worked hard on our sound, with Maia as musical director and me taking care of the business end of things. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">In some of our early performances, Samana would be a group of nine or ten colorfully clad women, including singers, dancers and multi-instrumentalists. Eventually we were more often a group of five: Maia – flute, harp, voice, and vibes; Nicole – flutes and voice; Aquilla Sedalla – voice and clarinets; Coco Elysses – congas and tympani; and me on bass, mbira, and sitar. We all played drums. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Samana was the first all-female ensemble in the AACM (Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians, which Nicole would later chair). We performed in venues around Chicagoland and throughout the Midwest and released one recording, Samana. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Samana became a source of frustration for Niki, and I’ve come to regret my part in that. One was that I nixed her composition, “Troot”, from the Samana recording, feeling like the stomps and claps didn’t work. How many recordings since then have featured tap dancers in a jazz setting? </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">A second thing I’m aware of was Niki’s desire to take longer solos, when Maia and I held to a prescribed length so that we could stay within the number of minutes we had for any given gig. In one conversation about this, David Boykin said to Niki, “Well, you just need to get your own group.” And did she ever!! </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">What was most striking about Niki was how totally absorbed in music she was. While finishing her flute major at Chicago State, she was also pursuing classical flute studies at the University of Chicago. Then she commuted to DeKalb for her Master’s Degree, became a mother, and went from rehearsals to gigs to rehearsals to gigs, seemingly nonstop. I have never met anyone so totally committed to music as Niki. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I have long said that Nicole is a genius and should definitely have gotten one of those MacArthur grants by now. Nonetheless she has been recognized with awards from the Herb Alpert Foundation and is a Doris Duke fellow. Nicole has performed throughout Europe and North America. She’s received numerous “Best of” designations from jazz critics, polls, and publications; and has been commissioned to create works for the Jazz Institute of Chicago, among others. And she’s now a tenured professor at the University of California – Irvine. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">This month Nicole Mitchell was Artist-in-Residence for NYC Winter Jazzfest, presenting her work in at least four different groups under her name. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Although now based in California, Nicole maintains strong ties to Chicago and often employs Chicago musicians in her projects. I’ve been honored with an invitation to play with Nicole on a few precious occasions:<br>Honoring Grace: Michelle Obama, at the Spertus Museum, in the recording studio, and at the Hyde Park Jazz Festival; The music of Doug and Jean Carn at the Hyde Park Jazz Festival; and Chicago’s Green Mill.</span> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">As exciting as it’s been to perform with Nicole Mitchell, it’s been even more thrilling to be in her audiences as she presents her commissioned works, such as, in 2010, Intergalactic Beings, Part Two of Xenogenesis Suite: A Tribute to Octavia Butler, and, in 2017, Bamako*Chicago Sound System. I’ve also seen her in many iterations of her Black Earth Ensemble. Nicole’s artistry, musicianship, creativity, and vision are unparalleled, and her activism, especially in championing gender and racial equality, is a model for all of us.</span> </p>
<p>.</p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/50304592018-01-18T13:05:21-06:002021-09-19T17:09:35-05:00Join us. Sign the Open Letter.<p><span class="font_xl">We will not be silent. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_xl">We have voice. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_xl">We have zero tolerance for sexual harassment.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_xl"><a href="https://too-many.org">https://too-many.org</a></span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/50205112018-01-12T15:01:17-06:002023-12-10T11:09:36-06:00Turiyasangitanandaji<p><br><span class="font_large">This morning I opened the <em>Alice Coltrane </em>folder from my earlier research on musical women. I was reminded that, from 1974 to 1979, we exchanged letters (and one telegram). As I planned my California interviews, I inquired about her upcoming performances. Here is her response:</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">March 19, 1976</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Revered Atman:</span></p>
<p> <span class="font_large">May the Lord's peace and blessings be upon you always. I am presently engaged in the service of the Supreme One and I do not expect to be participating in too many musical activities upon the commercial plane. The highest expression and the highest study I know of is service to the Supreme Lord. And I am actively and presently engaged in such service. I hope that you will become successful in your efforts to fully develop yourself musically. I hope that you will not progress your music to a point which prevents you from evolving spiritually and that your music will always inspire you to seek and realize the Supreme Lord.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> May peace be with you,</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> <em>Turiyasangitananda</em></span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">In March of 1978 Mansur and I visited her ashram, The Vedantic Center, in Woodland Hills, California. We attended a service during which the swami played organ, while she and the devotees sang and chanted. Then, while she and I spoke at length, her children took Mansur, then five years old, on a tour of the grounds.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Just reading through my notes and recalling that encounter has reassured me and put much in perspective. Desires for recognition and material success pale in comparison to knowledge and fulfillment of one's spiritual purpose.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large"> </span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/50134952018-01-08T18:34:09-06:002018-01-08T18:34:09-06:00Sweet Honey<p><span class="font_large">Writing this blog is reminding me of how important music has always been in my life. It's also showing me what strong and lasting impressions<em> live </em>music has made on me.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">One group that I have seen more than any other is Sweet Honey in the Rock. An acapella group, formed by civil rights era Freedom Singer Bernice Johnson Reagon, this group captures the essences of African-American vocal traditions. Spirituals, gospel, blues, rhythm and blues, protest songs, and children's music all figure in Sweet Honey's repertoire. Four or five colorfully adorned singers and a sign language interpreter, seated on a bare stage, invariably bring audiences to their feet, dancing and singing along. To be at a Sweet Honey concert is to be in church, at a party, and at a rally, all at the same time.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Existing now for over forty years, the makeup of the group shifts from time to time; but not so often that the women cease to be our sisters, neighbors, aunties, trusted friends. Sweet Honey's music gives voice to our greatest joys and fears, our dreams and nightmares. She (the collective).challenges us to seek knowledge, to take action, to heal this world of ours. When you leave a Sweet Honey in the Rock performance, you know you've been changed.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Here are some of my Sweet Honey moments:</span></p>
<ul> <li><span class="font_large">at Chicago's Medinah Temple, marveling at their singing and wonderful shekere playing</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">at Sweet Honey's 10th anniversary in Washington, DC, their home base, when all of the women who had ever been in the group (at least fifteen of them) spread across the stage and sang together</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">at the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival when our group, Sojourner, also performed and I got a chance to sit at breakfast with founder Bernice Reagon for a wonderful chat</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">at the Rockford (IL) Women's Music Festival, where I told stories and was elated that my name was on the back of the festival tee, along with Sweet Honey and the other performers</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">at Chicago's People's Church, where there were so many women there that, by consensus, the men's washrooms became unisex facilities</span></li> <li>
<span class="font_large">at</span> <span class="font_large">Chicago's Orchestra Hall, where my mother heard the group for the first time, and we saw Ella Jenkins in the lobby</span>
</li> <li><span class="font_large">at my workplace, the Old Town School of Folk Music, where they shared tales from their herstory, and had a young man (what?!) playing bass</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">at a "meet and greet" at the University of Chicago with retired member Ysaye Barnwell, who had me and Zahra sing for <em>her</em></span></li> <li><span class="font_large">at Chicago' Millennium Park, where Bernice's daughter, Toshi Reagon, carried on the family tradition of message music and communal singing</span></li>
</ul>
<p><span class="font_large"> To my favorite Honeys - Bernice, Evelyn, and Ysaye - I LOVE YOU!!</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/50117552018-01-07T20:41:36-06:002021-09-10T17:38:38-05:00Sharing the Love of Music<p><span class="font_large">I spent the better part of today with my co-workers - Wiggleworms teachers at the Old Town School of Folk Music. There were over twenty women and six men Eleven months a year, seven days a week, we share our love of music with young children, and the parents and other caregivers who bring them to our classes. Newborns, infants, toddlers, young children up to the age of five, as many as two thousand a week some sessions, come through our doors. We sing, play instruments, dance and engage with them in musical play. We open these young ones to a life of listening to and participating in music.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We are dedicated, loving, warm professionals who, today, shared songs, experiences, ideas and concerns with each other. All so that we become even better at what we do.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">So today I ask you to join me in saluting music teachers; largely unsung and underappreciated. But without whom life, as we know it, would be very different, very bland.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Who were your music teachers? at home? in school? in the community? </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">To all of us, to all of you, I give a heart felt THANK YOU!!</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/50103972018-01-06T18:27:24-06:002018-01-06T18:27:24-06:00A Few Minutes With Barbra<p><span class="font_large">When I was growing up my mother was a member of both the Capitol and Columbia record clubs. A booklet would come by mail. You would make your selection. And, if you didn't do that in a timely manner, you would automatically receive the Selection of the Month. Either way, new music was coming into the house on a regular basis.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Although I'm sure albums were playing throughout the week, my most vivid memories are of Saturday mornings. Mother would put a stack of records on the stereo (maximum six at a time). Then we would dance and sing along, while cleaning the house.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">That was how I first heard Barbra Streisand. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">To this day, I can probably sing every note on the <em>People </em>album and the <em>Funny Girl </em>cast recording. And the film version of <em>Funny Girl </em>is such a strong memory that I feel like a saw it on Broadway too.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Fast forward to 2006. I was teaching second grade and part-time job jumping through the Las Vegas casino hotels. I'd already worked briefly at Shark Reef, Phantom of the Opera, and several conventions. When I heard that Barbra Streisand was coming to the MGM Grand, I applied for and landed an usher position at the Grand Garden Arena.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I got fitted for my Kelly green blazer and attended orientation. There were lots of instructions, but the most important was for the Streisand concert: if you see her in the hallway, DON'T LOOK AT HER!. Hmm.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I was very excited. But I first had to work some other concerts: Mariah Carey (Put on some clothes!) and Jimmy Buffett, whose fans were very drunk and rowdy. I was asked to come down a few rows and put a stop to an altercation between Buffett fans. That was a useless task. On my way back up the stairs, I tripped over my own feet and fell onto the concrete landing. I couldn't move without excruciating pain. So I was rushed by ambulance to a nearby hospital, where my dislocated shoulder was snapped back into place. I was then sent home with powerful drugs and my arm in a sling.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">For a week I was unable to go to my salaried job because of an injury on my minimum wage fling. When I was cleared to return to the MGM, it was just in time for the Barbra Streisand show. But I'd been put on light duty and couldn't work inside the concert. Instead I was posted in a chair to take tickets for the pre-show reception. I was crushed. Before the show was over, however, a sympathetic co-worker traded places with me. Then I was able to stand inside and see Barbra perform for a few minutes. She was relaxed and her banter was funny. Her voice was strong and lovely. I was grateful for those moments with her.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"> I kept that usher job until I left Vegas two years later and witnessed some fabulous shows, and quite a few duds. Among the most enjoyable were Beyonce, Eric Clapton, the Billboard Awards, and Van Halen, also the loudest.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Should Barbra Streisand ever tour again, I want to be there.</span></p>
<p> </p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/50104352018-01-06T18:13:22-06:002022-08-01T05:17:35-05:00It's Not Too Late<p><span class="font_large">When I have moments of defeat, of thinking that I am too old to continue pursuing my dreams, I remember Elizabeth Cotten. Here's an article I wrote, some years after interviewing her at her home in Washington, DC. It appeared in the July 1985 issue of <em>HOT WIRE Journal of Women's Music & Culture.</em></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_large"><em>NEWS FLASH</em></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_large"><em>Elizabeth Cotten wins </em></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_large"><em>Grammy at age 93</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The<em> </em>music industry must be commended for one small yet progressive step in its belated acknowledgement of Elizabeth Cotten's greatness. Recipient of a 1985 Grammy Award in the Traditional Ethnic Record category for her album <em>Elizabeth Cotten Live </em>(Arhoolie Records). Ms. Cotten is one of the few women who plays an instrument as well as sings ever to be honored by the National Academy for the Recording Arts and Sciences.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Born January 5, 1893 (<em>or 1895)</em> in Silal City, NC, Elizabeth Cotten is a storehouse of history, which she willingly shares during and outside her performances. Her velvet touch and superb technique on both guitar and banjo are amazing and inspiring. Of the "folk music" label attached to her work she says, "Whether it's jazz or blues or whatever, when you write your own songs, I call that 'folk music'."</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Ms. Cotten attended school only as far as the fourth grade. Although she didn't realize it until the time she was in school, she didn't really have a name. Her family called her "Sis" and "Li'l Sis." Even the teacher called her "Li'l Sis" until the day she asked the child, "Don't you have a name?" The child responded that her name was Elizabeth. "That day I named myself." Elizabeth Cotten recalls.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Elizabeth Cotten had an older brother who played banjo. When quite young she would take his instrument off the wall and try to pick out songs. Invariably she would end up breaking some strings. When her brother would return home, Elizabeth would hide under the bed, afraid of what he would do upon discovering the broken strings. He never acknowledged the damage. Instead he allowed his sister to continue exploring the banjo, breaking more strings and developing a unique style of playing in the process.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Elizabeth Cotten's approach to her instrument has been widely imitated and is referred to as "Cotten picking." Ms. Cotton is left handed and, as a child, didn't know that left-handed guitarists reverse the standard position of the strings. She just turned her instrument upside down and played. To this day, she plays with the lower-pitched strings on the bottom instead of the top.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">While young Elizabeth was picking out other people's songs on her brother's banjo, she was composing her own tunes as well. "Freight Train," perhaps her most famous composition, was created when she was ten or eleven years old. Ms. Cotten recalls being inspired to write this song as she stood in her back yard in Chapel Hill, NC, watching the passing trains. "Freight Train," a child's creation, has been recorded by several artists and sung by multitudes.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">This creative youngster was determined to have her own instrument and, by the age of 12, found a way to get her first guitar. After her mother would leave for work, Elizabeth would get dressed and knock on doors, asking if people needed someone to work for them. One woman asked, "What can a little girl like you do?" but gave her a chance to prove herself. She started off with a salary of 75 cents a month, which was later increased by 25 cents. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Elizabeth asked her first employer to buy her a guitar, which cost $3.25. Elizabeth named this guitar Stella and, she says, "I loved Stella better than I loved myself...I used to sleep with her." After working all day, she would play her guitar all night, or until her mother forced her to go to bed.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Elizabeth Cotten's playing, singing, and composing never stopped, buy her means of support was almost always domestic work. She says, "I didn't know how to do anything else." One family she worked for in Washington, DC, for over 30 years was that of musicologists Charles and Ruth Seeger. Their children Pete, Mike, Peggy, and Penny all became folk performers. Elizabeth shared her musical gifts with the Seegers, who eventually convinced her to perform her music publicly. So in 1962, as she neared 70 years of age, Elizabeth Cotten started performing at folk festivals and in coffeehouses, while still doing domestic work. When the number of engagements greatly increased, she was able to survive totally on her income from music.</span></p>
<p><em><span class="font_large">Ms. Cotten continued to perform until shortly before death in 1987. She was recognized by the National Endowment for the Arts as a National Heritage Fellow and by the Smithsonian Institution as a "living treasure." Her music lives on and is still performed widely. I feel honored to have spent a little time with her.</span></em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/50087172018-01-05T20:34:43-06:002018-01-05T20:34:43-06:00Lil' Sax <p><span class="font_large">Within the past two years I've known three stroke victims to be abruptly discharged from rehab centers because their insurance no longer covered their rehabilitation. They, and their supporters, have been left to piece together plans for their care and continued recovery.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Diane Lil' Sax Ellis suffered a stroke at the beginning of a performance in La Follette Park. She's been a strong presence in Chicago's jazz community, an advocate for jazz women, and an exceptional music teacher, bringing jazz to her Dixon Public School students for over twenty years. The jazz community has held benefit concerts for Diane and continued support is needed. Please go to <a href="https://helphopelive.org/campaign/13083">https://helphopelive.org/campaign/13083</a><span class="font_large"> </span>for more information and to find out how you can help.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The Ellis family has contributed to Chicago's cultural life for decades. Diane's father, Curtis Ellis, ran a black bookstore, Ellis' Book Store, on the southside for many years. It was a hub for information and inspiration during the civil rights and black consciousness movements. I loved going there for books, and to feel the warmth and friendly spirit of the late Mr. Ellis. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Diane's uncles, Jimmy and Morris, were well known jazz musicians and mentors. Saxophonist Jimmy Ellis welcomed me into the jazz fold at his weekly open big band rehearsals at Roberts Motel. </span> <span class="font_large">After</span> <span class="font_large">studying at DuSable High School with the legendary Capt. Walter Dyett, Jimmy played with Nat King Cole, Sarah Vaughan, Dinah Washington, Earl Hines, Sun Ra and many others. Only in 2016 did he release an album under his own name, <em>The Jimmy Ellis Quartet: Live at Andy's Jazz Club in Chicago.</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Morris Ellis, a trombonist who also studied with Capt. Dyett, started a band while attending Howard University. The Morris Ellis Orchestra was a fixture around Chicago, playing at numerous events, including parties, dances, and the inauguration of Mayor Harold Washington. In addition to leading the band until his retirement in 2010, Morris Ellis was an active studio musician.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">With music all around her, it was no surprise that Diane would become a music professional. Known for her cheerful disposition, a positive energy that came through her music, she led and/or performed with several groups during her career, most famously The Jazzy Ladies, an all female ensemble. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">As an educator, Diane Ellis taught music to all grade levels at Dixon for 23 years, with jazz as the focal point of her instruction. Many of her students have gone on to careers in many areas of the music business. Marquis Hill, an award winning trumpeter, was a student of Diane Ellis and is garnering worldwide recognition.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We hope that Lil Sax can make a full recovery, regaining her ability to spread joy and love through music. She needs the support of all who can help, from near and far.</span></p>
<p> </p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/50058742018-01-03T20:40:52-06:002018-01-05T10:33:56-06:00OK. This is Emotional.<p><span class="font_large">I am a Macy Gray fan. And fandom is an emotional state. It's an unexplainable connection. It is not politically correct. It is crazy. It is sensual. It is LOVE. I love Macy Gray.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">My first most favorite Macy Gray song (the one that still makes me dance, sing and shout) is <em>Sex-O-Matic Venus Freak. </em>Don't laugh. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">My second favorite is <em>Finally Made Me Happy - </em>"when you walked out that door..."</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I got to see Macy Gray perform once, in a Las Vegas casino. The room was rather small. We were in the second row. She was wild and free. I felt wild and free. The band was tight. The music was hot. Her clothes looked like something she made herself (if she can't sew). Her hair. Have you seen her hair?!!</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I love Macy Gray.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I love to see Macy Gray act. She basically plays herself. Which to me is a good thing.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">But it was really sad to see her on <em>Dancing With the Stars. </em>She was just being herself, which for ballroom dancing was not a good thing. How does that show find so many black people who can't dance?!</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Macy Gray has more album buying fans in the UK than in the USA. So she still tours around Europe. And she recently switched record labels so she could make an album that sounds best through headphones, That was really smart. And she set up hair braiding tents at AfroPunk. She is, remember, really into hair. Natural hair.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I love Macy Gray. I hope I get to see her again real soon.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Love,</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Shanta</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/50032092018-01-02T19:34:38-06:002018-01-02T19:34:38-06:00Remembering Mary Lou Williams<p><span class="font_large">Mary Lou Williams was a pianist, arranger and composer who lived and played through several decades of jazz. As the music evolved and changed, so did her playing. A child prodigy and primarily self-taught, Mary Lou was considered professionally competent by the age of twelve. She performed in vaudeville bands as a teenager, arranged and composed for many popular orchestras while in her twenties, and by her thirties was touring as a soloist and band leader. Mary Lou Williams was considered one of the giants of jazz, a pioneer in having her own record label, and an educator whose later years were spent teaching at Duke University.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I interviewed her in May of 1976 in her New York apartment, formerly a frequent gathering place for musicians such as Bud Powell, Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie and Thelonious Monk. I was seven months pregnant and had my four year old son, Mansur, with me. Although Ms. Williams was not used to his youthful fidgeting, she welcomed him and regaled me with stories of her life in music and her charitable work, often for downtrodden musicians. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">My favorite anecdote was of her conducting a band with one hand while writing arrangements with the other. I still enjoy visualizing that scene, almost as much as my memories of Mary Lou Williams in performance. She could, in one medley, take an audience through the entire history of African-American music - spirituals, ragtime, blues, bebop, avant-garde and everything in between. Mary Lou Williams mastered it all. My other favorite moment was seeing her on Sesame Street, teaching the children and the puppets scat singing.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">In 1978 I was able to speak with her again after an intimate performance at the University of Chicago. Once more she gave generously of her time, allowing me to shadow her for a bit. From these encounters and further research I wrote an article, <em>A Portrait of Mary Lou Williams, </em>which appeared in Hot Wire: The Journal of Women's Music. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I've long sought role models and wisdom from the musical elders. Mary Lou Williams certainly fulfilled that for me.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">And Mansur, now in his forties, still remembers that visit to her apartment. Rare experiences - precious gifts for our children.</span></p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/50019382018-01-01T16:30:14-06:002018-01-02T16:22:41-06:00Happy New Year!!<p><span class="font_large">At the stroke of midnight, we were listening to the music of jazz violinist Regina Carter. We went through the five albums in my iTunes library: <em>Something for Grace (1997); Rhythms of the Heart (1999); Motor City Moments (2000); Freefall with Kenny Barron (2001); and Reverse Thread (2010). </em>Even with the two CDs that live in my car, <em>Southern Comfort </em>and <em>Ella: Accentuate the Positive,</em> I am missing some of Regina's recorded music. But what I do have, I listen to often; and draw great solace and inspiration from her work. I love the way each album explores a different theme or type of music, including the music of her hometown, her African roots, and then her southern heritage.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">My first awareness of Regina Carter came while working with Sojourner, the all women's ensemble that Rita Warford and I formed in the late seventies. The group consisted of four people from Chicago (me on sitar and bass, vocalists Rita Warford and Chavunduka Sevanhu, and bassist Sherri Weathersby) and four from Detroit (Kafi Patrice Nassoma on harp and flute, Elreta Dodds on reeds, drummer Gayelynn McKinney, and percussionist Ahsia Hill). Earlier percussionists had been Bunchy Fox of the Bronx and Detroiter Barbara Huby. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The Detroit women knew hometown musician Regina Carter, and there was talk of asking her to join Sojourner. But she was headed to New York. And what an auspicious move it was!! Although she entered the New York jazz scene as a relative unknown, Carter's classical and jazz training allowed her to teach and to work as a backup player. Her unique instrumental voice and approach to the violin eventually garnered her enough attention to get recording contracts, high profile gigs, and a MacArthur "genius grant."</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Although Regina Carter frequently performs in Chicago, so far I've only seen her "live" on two occasions: in 2014 at the University of Chicago's Reva and David Logan Center for the Arts; and in 2017 at Symphony Center. At both packed concerts, Carter wowed the crowd the warmth and fluidity of her playing, her amazing technique, and the way she swings the standards and her originals. And always, always, she gets the goodies out of the blues.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Regina Carter is a soulful, skillful jazzwoman, deserving of a long and illustrious career.</span></p>
<p> <span class="font_large">http://reginacarter.com/</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Regina_Carter</span></p>
<p> </p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/49954852017-12-28T11:03:40-06:002018-01-01T14:48:45-06:00At the Hideout<p><span class="font_large">Two nights ago I played with Ben Lamar Gay at Chicago's Hideout Inn. It was the last Tuesday night of Ben's December residency at this legendary venue. The first improvised set had Ben on cornet, voice and synth, Mikel Patrick Avery on drumkit and electronics, and Carlos Pride on African talking drums and Hawaiian lap steel guitar. Ben rode the pulsating rhythms of the drummers, taking us with him on his exploration of moods and sounds. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">At the break we got me setup, with Ben telling me that, except for a duet between Mikel and Rob Frye, the second set was all about me and the sitar. Oh really?! Carlos laid down a bed of lap steel blues changes and I took off. I remember some places my hands and fingers went, some bends of the strings, a shout or two from the audience. But what I played, I cannot really tell you. That's one of the beauties of Creative Music, you and your band mates fly, while listening and responding to each other and the people who came for the experience.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">After clearing the stage and mingling a bit, I went with trumpeter Jaimie Branch to the green room for my first interview of this revived project. Jaimie was very open and thoughtful, as we covered a wide range of topics, including: challenges she's faced in her career and the success of her 2017 album <em>Fly or Die; </em>feminism and the #MeToo movement; living and teaching in New York; and her preference for creative music over the more competitive straight ahead jazz scene.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">In observing Jaimie Branch's interactions with the musicians who played or attended the Hideout show, I could see how much she enjoys being a part of the music community. She's warm and funny, at ease in a world of her own choosing. Her joy is expressed in her music. Check out <em>Fly or Die.</em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Creativity flourishes in this world of ours. Support live music</span>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/49938622017-12-26T16:44:13-06:002017-12-26T16:44:13-06:00On Race<p><span class="font_large">I used to tell my teenage son, "You don't have to look for racism; it will find you."</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Now here I am, opening up my project to explore all musical women (instead of black women exclusively), and what stares back at me? Racism.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I went through the new critics poll of Downbeat and Jazz Iz magazines. Although there are many more women being recognized as excellent musicians than in years past, the majority of them are white. Of course there are those sisters who are so badass that they absolutely cannot be overlooked, among them Nicole Mitchell, Tomeka Reid, Akua Dixon, Matana Roberts, Esperanza Spalding and Terri Lyne Carrington. And more black vocalists receive accolades than do instrumentalists. But jazz was created by black people. How do we still end up with the short end of the stick?</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">A few possible answers:</span></p>
<ul> <li><span class="font_large">Most of the jazz critics are white males</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">The music industry, i.e. labels, distributors, producers, is dominated by white males. Oh, right, just about everything in America is also controlled by them </span></li> <li><span class="font_large">.Music programs have disappeared from many public school systems</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">Black youth have been drawn mostly to hip hop, without understanding its connection to jazz</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">Black female instrumentalists are not highly visible, therefore not seen as role models for successful career options</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">In order for our stories to be told, we have to tell them</span></li>
</ul>
<p><span class="font_large"> Those of us who have not been, and may never be, anointed by the jazz establishment, must continue to do what we've been doing all along and more - create our own opportunities; teach and encourage our youth; work cooperatively for the betterment of all, and remember why we make music in the first place.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Live the Nguzo Saba every day!!</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">HAPPY KWANZAA</span></p>
<p> </p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/49919082017-12-23T22:51:45-06:002017-12-23T22:51:45-06:00Solstice<p><span class="font_large">Last night Zahra performed at another of the Hamid Drake/Michael Zerang annual winter solstice events at Constellation Chicago. Altogether they did three sunrise concerts and two evening shows. Hamid led the Friday night event with himself and Michael on drums, Josh Abrams on bass, Jason Adasiewicz on vibes and marimba, Zahra Baker on voice and percussion, Lisa Alvarez on harmonium and gong, and dancer Jessica Marasa.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The concert began with Lisa and Zahra coming in striking gongs. The effect was one of clearing the air, calling on those present to focus, setting the tone for what was to unfold. As Lisa switched to harmonium and Zahra sang into and through an Egyptian bendir drum, Jessica danced fluidly to their sonic offerings, intended as a representation of the Great Mother spirit. After a while, the other musicians joined in, creating a wide-ranging group improvisation that lasted the entire evening. There were seamless shifts in instrumentation and musical pairings, ending with a gong recessional and spellbound audience, for what clearly had been more ritual than performance. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">A surprise addition was the toddler daughter of Josh and Lisa. Their babysitter was a no-show, so the baby became part of the show. She crawled and rocked, totally in tune with the music and the spirit of the evening. What could have been a giant distraction became an absolute delight. Jessica even danced with and around the little one, acknowledging her purity and presence.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Another highlight for me, of course, was seeing Zahra in her element. As a young child, her voice was so beautiful and strong that she was recruited into the adult choir at her church. Because her spiritual and musical journeys extended beyond the church and its music, Zahra has searched for places where her vocal style would be valued and respected. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">One such outlet has been in the performance duo In the Spirit with storyteller Emily Hooper Lansana. Although I'd seen In the Spirit perform numerous times, I never realized the full power of Zahra's voice until I was sitting next to her as the duo presented their work to a small group at Columbia College. When Zahra began to sing I felt like I was being blown away by a force of nature. Now I get to hear her at home, when she's warming up, doing long tones, throat singing, singing spirituals. We perform in a number of different settings. And many others call on her to perform her vocal magic. We are all so lucky.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/49898082017-12-22T11:30:37-06:002017-12-22T11:30:37-06:00What It Takes<p><span class="font_large">Weeks ago, I realized that this project on musical women would require certain behaviors of me. It would push me to:</span></p>
<ul> <li><span class="font_large">delve deeply</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">explore widely</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">get uncomfortable</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">create consistently</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">be spontaneous</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">act courageously</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">produce produce produce</span></li>
</ul>
<p><span class="font_large">Last night was my first challenge. I spotted Jaimie Branch in the lobby as the audience waited for the house to open. Apparently Shy Shanta had come to Constellation. Zahra had to literally force me to approach Jaimie. Once I did, we had a friendly exchange, even agreeing to a time next week for a conversation.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The concert was amazing and inspiring. Tomeka Reid played in a trio setting with percussionist Michael Zerang and bassist Tatsu Aoki. Each improvised piece conveyed a certain mood or color, inviting the musicians to explore a different instrumental voice and technique. On one standout piece, Tatsu was bowing entirely on the bass' harmonics, producing eerily high melodies, while Tomeka provided bass lines on the cello and Michael's fingers danced on the doumbek. Then the bass and cello switched roles for highs and lows. The entire set was a beautiful journey of sound and color.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The second set was drummer Hamid Drake's tribute to Alice Coltrane and Pharoah Sanders. It opened with a hauntingly beautiful interpretation of Alice Coltrane's <em>Turiya and Ramakrishna,</em> with Jason Adasiewicz on vibes, Josh Abrams on bass, and Hamid on drums. Hamid then spoke about Alice, Pharoah, and his other mentors, including recently departed Willie Pickens, dedicating the concert to all of them. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">He then brought Ari Brown and Jaimie Branch to the stage to play one of Ari's tunes (I didn't catch the title, but remember the song). It was a rousing rendition, at the end of which Ari turned and shook Jaimie's hand. It was a touching gesture, from an elder to a younger player; a humble moment of appreciation and validation that I've never before seen.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The concert continued with Hamid's powerful, fluid drumming through Alice's <em>Journey</em> <em>in Satchidananda </em>and Pharoah's <em>The Creator Has a Master Plan. </em>Some of my all-time favorites had me and Zahra singing "The Power of Love" on the back row. What a night!</span></p>
<p> </p>Shanta Nurullahtag:shantastoryteller.com,2005:Post/49877772017-12-21T08:04:48-06:002017-12-21T08:04:48-06:00Newness<p><span class="font_large">I saw this quote on Instagram recently:</span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_large"><em>You will recognize your own path when you come upon it because you will suddenly have all the energy and imagination you will ever need. </em></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Sarah Teasdale</em></p>
<p><span class="font_large">This certainly describes me in recent weeks, as I make plans for my 2018 project: 365 Days of Musical Women. Not only have I been unable to wait for the new year to begin, I now see that this journey actually started over 40 years ago. I traveled the country in the mid-seventies, babies in tow, interviewing black female instrumentalists. Though I didn't write the book I'd envisioned, I did publish several articles and went on to cofound two all-women's bands, Sojourner and Samana. I've engaged in musical activism and empowerment over the years.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">At the urging of my wife, Zahra, and superwoman Ayana Contreras, I've gotten my treasure trove of interviews out of storage, vowing to finish what I started. Now, though, my only filter is gender - musical women. I'm open to whomever and wherever the journey takes me on this yearlong immersion.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">So far this week I've been pouring over Best of 2017 lists and have listened to two albums that are favorites of many critics: Jaimie Branch's Fly or Die and Hear in Now's Not Living in Fear. Both are improvisational masterworks. Tonight I get to hear trumpeter Branch and cellist Tomeka Reid (of Hear in Now) at Chicago's Constellation, as they guest with Michael Zerang. I'm super excited.</span></p>Shanta Nurullah