Music – Page 15

Singing adds to health

Choir director and singer Earle Peach, seated at centre, with members of Highs and Lows Choir. (photo by Kathleen Yang)

For more than 20 years, Highs and Lows Choir has brought music back into the lives of its members. Established as a four-part choral group in the mid-1990s, its mission is the mutual support of singers, in a way that nurtures mental health and wellness. Auditions are not required for new members; musical activities and instruction are built into their weekly rehearsals. The main thing, according to choir director and singer Earle Peach, is “the desire to participate and the willingness to learn.”

Accompanied by pianist Elaine Joe, the choir of about 20 voices practises a wide repertoire of songs, which it performs at numerous venues around Vancouver. In December, the songs were festive and drew on a range of traditions – songs from Christmas in Victorian England, and a Chanukah song from Spain called “Ocho Kandelikas.” Between the seasonal items, the choir performed the satirical “Parking Lots and Strip Malls,” “Blue Moon” and, a favourite with swing bands, “Jump, Jive and Wail.”

“We’ll sing music from any place or time period, as long as it has beautiful harmony and isn’t too difficult,” said Peach of the set list.

The atmosphere at rehearsals is buoyant, even amid the hard work of managing tricky intervals and rhythms, as in, for example “A La Ru,” a Spanish lullaby. The choir sings in a range of languages, performing works in English, Latin, French, Swahili, Ladino and Haitian Creole. The music is “challenging but manageable,” according to Jewish community member Rachel Mayer, an alto singer who is also a member of the choir’s board.

In the break, members talk about upcoming events in the community. In December, the calendar was full of choral visits around town, including two events at Douglas Park Community Centre and a lunch at Carnegie Community Centre. At the end of January, the choir will be singing for the Suzuki Elders and, in February, they will join other choirs at the Home Ground Festival in Oppenheimer Park in the Downtown Eastside.

Bass singer Kevin Elwell has managed or co-managed Highs and Lows Choir since 2003, and has been a peer support worker and English-as-a-second-language instructor with Vancouver Coastal Health since 2006. He has seen firsthand the tremendous difference the choir has made in the lives of its members: a difference recognized by the Mayor’s Arts Award, which was given to Peach in the fall of 2017, for community-engaged art. A conductor for three other choirs in the area, Peach is also a performer, teacher, producer and recording artist.

Alaric Posey (bass) described the choir as “the highlight of my week.” Having sung in children’s choirs, he had been away from music for many years before joining Highs and Lows in 2003. This opened the door to a life full of music, as he is now the choir’s assistant conductor and co-manager. He also teaches music and performs with a number of other groups around Vancouver.

The singers explain that, while singing is good for you, the social element is equally important. “There’s more of an effect the more people you sing with. You’re a community with a common purpose,” said Posey.

Academic research confirms the views of the singers. A 2016 article on the neuroscience of singing reports that social singing evolved to serve the needs of early humans. By singing and dancing together, groups shared important information, forged strong social bonds and fended off enemies. While we may not need to scare away predators, our modern brains still benefit from the endorphins released into our bodies as we sing. These endorphins make us happier, healthier and more able to think creatively. Choir librarian Dale Sweet (tenor) sets a good example with his commitment to singing in seven different choirs around town.

While the choir was founded to nurture the mental health of its members, the lows are left at home during rehearsal. The choir is a place to be task-oriented while making music and laughing at the endless stream of bad puns emanating from the conductors. Still, the members always know that others have their backs. True to the choir’s name, soprano, chair of the choir board and Jewish community member Penny Goldsmith observed, “People look out for each other. If someone doesn’t show up, we call them.” Aptly named, the choir helps the spirits of its singers take flight.

The choir sings weekly every Tuesday from noon to 1:45 p.m. at the Unitarian Church at Oak and 49th in Vancouver. New members are always welcome. More information about the choir can be found at highsandlowschoir.ca.

Shula Klinger is an author and journalist living in North Vancouver. Find out more at shulaklinger.com.

Reinventing old-time music

Woody Forster and Devora Laye of the Burying Ground. (photo by Mary Matheson)

Contrary to what you might expect, given the band’s name, there is much joy in the Burying Ground. Woody Forster and Devora Laye obviously love what they do, and it comes through in their music, their performances, their promotional photos and even in their responses to an email interview. So, from where does the name come?

“The name came from the Blind Lemon Jefferson song ‘One Kind Favor,’ where he uses the line to describe his resting place,” explained Forster. “I also see it as maybe a metaphor for us finding this music for ourselves that has essentially been buried and forgotten in popular music today, and we are trying to draw from that place and explore those musical styles again.”

The Burying Ground plays 1920s and ’30s blues, ragtime, country and jazz, as well as original works in those genres. Their upbeat songs evoke images of musicians jamming away on the wooden porch of a farmhouse, people dancing and enjoying some moonshine. Their hurtin’ songs, with Forster’s gravelly voice, can make you feel like pouring yourself a stiff drink. The pair share the vocals, with Forster on guitar and Laye on myriad instruments, including the washboard, cymbals, tin can and cowbell – the sounds she produces with the saw will make you shiver. Various other musicians join the duo for performances and recordings.

“I can’t exactly find a reason why I love the music from that era,” said Forster. “I just seemed to get drawn deeper into it as I explored the history and the musicians that created it all. There is certainly a raw intensity in the sounds, as well as a very genuine feeling that I maybe don’t get out of other types of popular music through the last century.”

In November, the Burying Ground released a vinyl version of their eponymous album, which came out in June this year. It followed by a mere six months the group’s January 2017 release, Country Blues & Rags, which is “a collection of the band’s renditions of some of their most beloved songs.” The Burying Ground’s first album was Big City Blues, in 2015.

“The new EP is 11 original songs,” Laye told the Independent. “Our process is different from song to song. The last song on the album, ‘Longing for Home,’ is a song that I wrote for guitar and voice. The melody often comes to me while I’m walking around. For this particular song, I was walking around Vancouver when I smelled woodstove smoke, which made me miss living on Hornby Island, where I spent a couple years in my mid-20s. I sang it for Woody and he played along.

“‘Mean Spirit Blues’ was a trickier process for it’s a more complex song. I hummed the melody to Woody and he put the music to it. He often suggests a bridge or middle part of the song and we just play around with the ideas. We bounce ideas off of each other and give each other feedback. It’s fun, challenging and a nonstop learning process.”

“We are always bouncing ideas off of each other creatively to see whether we are liking what the other is bringing to the table, and tweaking the songs so we are both happy with the final outcome,” agreed Forster.

“We are learning a lot about writing music together and pushing ourselves to constantly grow and improve – and, at the same time, having a lot of fun doing it,” he added.

The two are definitely in sync. They have known each other a long time.

“Devora and I met around 15 years ago now, although we didn’t start playing music with each other until much later,” said Forster. “The Dire Wolves [band] started around 2008 and it was originally formed as a three-piece with me on mandolin, Blake Bamford on guitar and Joshua Doherty on harmonica, with Devora joining in on washboard a short time after. When the band split up around 2013, Devora and I kind of threw around the idea of starting a new project – we were both huge fans of early Americana music and both got more serious about it. And, from there, it has grown into the project we have created, and continues to grow.”

Both Laye and Forster come out of Vancouver’s punk scene, having been in different groups over the years. “As time went on, I gradually got more into old-time, and started studying it seriously in the last five years,” said Forster. “One of our first performances was at a venue called the China Cloud and I can remember being super-nervous, my hands were shaking, and I forgot lyrics, but somehow got through it with out train-wrecking the show. It has taken me awhile to get used to singing and playing guitar in front of people in such a stripped-down form of acoustic music. Not to say I still don’t get nervous, but I can hide it a little better now.”

Laye’s musical path has been varied.

“At home,” she said, “I was always surrounded by music. My dad plays guitar and has always written songs. He used to sing and play for us at bedtime and, of course, many other times. Growing up, I was exposed to different types of music, from classical to folk to Jewish music (Shlomo Carlebach was a big hit for me). My part of going to synagogue every week was the singing. When I was old enough to walk to the synagogue on my own, I would go for the evening/ma’ariv service on Saturdays to sing the zemirot with the enthusiastic congregation.

“I always loved to sing and play,” said Laye. “My eldest sister, Aviva, played the flute and I thought that was really cool and decided I wanted to learn how to play. I started taking lessons from Andrea Minden when I was 7 years old. Started on the recorder, of course, because my hands were too small for flute!

“Anyhow, I studied with Andrea until I was about 14. She was in a family band called the Minden Ensemble and they’d play all sorts of unusual instruments, such as vacuum hoses, bottles, spoons, pots and pans and the saw. Andrea showed me how to hold and bow the saw. When I was in my early 20s, I decided to pick it up and teach myself how to play along to songs, and have been having a lot of fun with it ever since.”

And how did she come to the washboard, which she also plays in the Myrtle Family Band?

“I’ve always loved to tap on nearby objects,” she said. “I’d tap on tables, chairs, find music and rhythm in glasses. I think my parents have learned to appreciate that side of me! Haha. I taught myself to play a drum kit when I moved out of my parents’ house, and played drums for some years before picking up the washboard. I had a partner who played old-time banjo and he suggested that I pick up the washboard so we could jam. I wasn’t sure it was a real instrument and thought it slightly inferior to a stringed instrument but, soon after, realized it added a lot to the music and can really be the backbone of a band. I ended up getting more and more into the old styles and into the playing and here I am today playing every day.”

Forster and Laye are based in Vancouver now, but this has not always been the case.

“I spent much of the past year on the Sunshine Coast and commuting to the city for gigs and to see family and friends,” said Laye. “The coast has been really great. I love to be surrounded by the trees, down the street from the ocean – bears, deer, coyotes and cougars through my backyard! Room to think in the quiet.

“The community on the coast has been so supportive of the Burying Ground,” she said. “I didn’t really have any expectations of what it would be like. I didn’t really know anyone when I moved over to Gibsons, and feel very grateful to have met such kind, supportive and inspiring people. Smaller communities are often more supportive, there is the time for that when the pace is slower. The city can be real tricky to break into. There are so many musicians, so much going on all the time.

“The coast is also limiting,” she added. “As professional musicians, there are only so many gigs you can play. Our band lives in the city.”

For more information about the Burying Ground, to hear their music and check out their upcoming shows – including the JI Chai Celebration on Dec. 6 – visit theburyingground.com.

The power, beauty of music

On classical favourite is Beethoven. (image from Schirmer’s Library of Musical Classics)

Music, my love! Where can one start with this subject? For many, it is a highly emotional issue. Watching young people at a rave or rock concert, we can see how totally they are consumed by the sounds, the words and the experience. Though it may leave profound traces in what they become, in the person they are, other priorities will ultimately dictate their behaviour. Nevertheless, don’t so many of us retain some place in our being where the music of our youth, once recalled, takes us back to those times with immediacy, carrying with it all its emotional weight? All the good and all the bad!

Carried away by a political consciousness early in my growing up years, I missed all that. Busy, busy, busy. My attitude was coloured somewhat by having had music thrust down my throat by a mother who felt that no education was complete without a person having the capacity to play a musical instrument. To my distress, the violin was her instrument of choice – weren’t there all those famous virtuosos Jewish? But, my output was in continuous dissonance with the beautiful music I heard in my head, no matter how hard I practised. I struggled with it for a number of years, while my sister achieved some facility, until my teacher suggested I could more productively focus my efforts on attaining celebrity in basketball, where I, as a short person, also had unreasonable expectations. I did, however, gain an appreciation of how beautiful music could be when offered by those with talent.

It was the folk music of the ’60s, the music of protest and rebellion, that most marked my consciousness in those early years. I trafficked in other forms, but it was the emotional appeal of that particular material that captured me. Some of it can still bring me to tears. Over time, though, a few favourite classical works were accumulated as top of mind: Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Ravel, Dvorak, mainly their stuff stirred my emotions. Gershwin, some Joni Mitchell and Dylan, Joplin and Leonard Cohen round out the picture of less formal music. Do we begin to see a pattern?

I am not an addict. I can go for long periods of time without insisting on being surrounded by melodious strains. But, when the occasion arises, and the stars are aligned, I am totally captured by the music that is available – preferably one of my favourites, but no matter. I become enraptured by the immersion. I know I am an inconstant lover, but a lover I am, nevertheless.

The right sort of music can transport me to places where I feel I could remain forever, a nirvana that wipes away all the stuff that is usually filling my head. There is so much in there, catalogues and timetables, agendas and orders of priority; for the time that I am in a place of music, these things do not exist. In some ways, music becomes for me a refuge. I do not want to imagine life without it. The need for that escape accumulates within me over time until, unconsciously, I am forced to find the occasion for relief.

I know I do music an injustice. Those involved in music-making in all its forms devote the essence of their lives to it; it is their lives. I can only imagine the sacrifices that are made, the years that are spent, by those who have had music take them by throat and totally seize their souls, so driven are they. How insulting that it should descend to being merely a palliative to one like myself!

Many of the things we need in life have their devotees. Fortunately for us, what musicians/composers are offering to us is central to their lives, so they lead a life of service to others, in many ways, without their necessary volition. For us, their raison d’etre may be only incidental, but insofar as they are consumed in making music, in all its various forms, we are blessed by their commitment to finding their joy in their métier.

As a failed musician who knows how much devotion and hard work meaningful music-making takes, I can only express my gratitude. Some of the best moments of my life – and, undoubtedly, for many others – have come from their creativity.

Can we fully express our love for another person without turning at some point to music? Can we fully express our love of country without music? Would we be willing to surrender all that music brings to our lives?

Music came into being because humanity needed this medium to express those feelings that cannot be put into words. The oldest known instrument ever found – thought to be 3,500 years old – is a five-hole flute made from a vulture’s wing bone. Anthropologists estimate, according to Wikipedia, that music is 55,000 years old and originated in Africa. It has been said that humankind fundamentally changed its nature about that long ago. Maybe music played a crucial part in that.

Regardless, I have a love affair with music. I truly believe that music was invented all those eons ago so that I could get to dance with my Bride. Care to join me on the dance floor?

Max Roytenberg is a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His book Hero in My Own Eyes: Tripping a Life Fantastic is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.

Some holiday songs’ origins

“Maoz Tzur,” recording by Abraham Tzevi Idelsohn. (photo from Music in the Jewish Community of Palestine 1880-1948 by Yehoash Hirschberg)

What do we have every year at Chanukah but rarely think about in terms of their origins? The songs. In a Hadassah Magazine article of some years ago, Melanie Mitzman quotes Velvel Pasternak on this subject. He said Chanukah songs are no more than a century old because Chanukah is a post-biblical holiday.

Pasternak is a musicologist, conductor, arranger, producer and publisher specializing in Jewish music. He has been described as “an expert on the music of the Chassidic sect and probably the largest publisher of Jewish music anywhere, although he is quick to note that publishing Jewish music is a business that attracts few rivals.”

The founder of Tara Publications, Pasternak has been responsible for the publication of 26 recordings and more than 150 books of Jewish music since 1971, spanning the gamut of Israeli, Yiddish, Ladino, cantorial, Chassidic and Holocaust music.

Most Chanukah songs, he told Mitzman, have been adapted from old folk melodies, have more than one set of lyrics and/or have been translated from language to language.

“Maoz Tzur,” for example, is called “Rock of Ages” in English. As Ariela Pelaia explains on thoughtco.com, it was written sometime in the 13th century by someone named Mordechai, and is a Jewish liturgical poem or piyyut, written in Hebrew originally, about “Jewish deliverance from four ancient enemies, Pharaoh, Nebuchadnezzar, Haman and Antiochus.” It is usually sung after lighting the chanukiyah. Its six stanzas correspond to five events of Jewish history and a hope for the future. Of its six stanzas, often only the first stanza is sung (or the first and fifth), as this is what directly pertains to Chanukah.

The authorship of the Yiddish song “Oy Chanukah,” or “Chanukah, Oh Chanukah,” in English, is unknown. According to the Freedman Jewish Music Archive at the University of Pennsylvania Library, alternate names of the Yiddish version of song have been recorded as “Khanike Days,” “Khanike Khag Yafe,” “Khanike Li Yesh,” “Latke Song (Khanike, Oy Khanike),” “Yemi Khanike” and “Chanike, Oy Chanike.” The standard transliteration of Chanukah in Yiddish, according to the YIVO system, is Khanike.

The Society for Jewish Folk Music in St. Petersburg published two classical compositions that make extensive use of this tune: “Freylekhs” for solo piano by Hirsch Kopyt, published in 1912 but performed as early as 1909; and “Dance Improvisation” for violin and piano by Joseph Achron, published in 1914 (composed in December 1914 in Kharkov, Ukraine).

The lyrics of the Hebrew version, which has the same melody, were penned by Avraham Avronin. The words correspond roughly to the original (more so than the English version), with slight variations for rhyme and rhythm’s sake. Thus, the first line names the holiday; the second calls for joy and happiness (using two synonyms); in the third, the speakers say they’ll spin dreidels all night; in the fourth, they will eat latkes; in the fifth, the speaker calls everyone to light the Chanukah candles; the sixth mentions the prayer Al Hanissim (On the Miracles).

The only big change is in the last line. Whereas the original calls us to praise God for the miracles He performed, the Hebrew one praises the miracles and wonders performed by the Maccabees. This reflects the anti-religious attitude of early Zionism, evident in many other Israeli Chanukah songs. In Israel, it’s still a very popular song, but, since the country has a rich inventory of Chanukah repertoire, it is not as popular as the English or Yiddish versions in North America.

“I Have a Little Dreydl,” also known as the “Dreidel Song,” is very famous in the English-speaking world. It also has a Yiddish version. The Yiddish version is “Ich Bin a Kleyner Dreydl,” “I Am a Little Dreidel.” The lyrics are simple and are, not surprisingly, given its title, about making a dreidel and playing with it.

The writer of the English lyrics is Samuel S. Grossman and the composer is listed as Samuel E. Goldfarb. The Yiddish version apparently was both written and composed by Mikhl Gelbart, known as Ben Arn, the Son of Aaron. Therefore, there is a question about who composed this music, as the melody for both the Yiddish and the English versions are precisely the same and the meaning of the lyrics in both versions is largely the same. However, in English, the song is about a dreidel made out of clay, which would be hard to spin, whereas in the Yiddish, the four-sided spinning top is made out of blay, which is lead.

Another popular dreidel song is “Sevivon,” with sevivon, sivivon or s’vivon being Hebrew for dreidel, which is the Yiddish word for a spinning top. “Sevivon” is very popular in Israel and with others familiar with Hebrew.

“Al Hanasim” is another popular Hebrew song for Chanukah. It is taken from the liturgy, but it is also an Israeli folk dance. The song is about thanking God for saving the Jewish people. The most popular tune, however, is relatively recent, having been composed by Dov Frimer in 1975.

The Chanukah song “Mi Y’malel” opens with the line, “Who can retell the mighty feats of Israel,” which is a secular rewording of Psalms 106:2, which reads “Who can retell the mighty feats of God.”

“Ner Li” translates as “I Have a Candle.” This is a simple Hebrew Chanukah song that is more popular in Israel than in the Diaspora. The words are by Levin Kipnis and the music is by Daniel Samburski.

Kipnis also wrote the words for “Chanukah, Chanukah,” which is a traditional folk song originating in Israel. In a completely different vein, “Judas Maccabaeus” is an oratorio by George Frideric Handel. During Chanukah, the melody for the oratorio’s “See, the Conqu’ring Hero Comes” is used by Spanish and Portuguese Jewish communities for the hymn Ein Keloheinu.

Last for this article, but certainly not the only remaining Chanukah song, is “Ocho Kandelikas.” This Ladino (Judeo-Spanish) song was written by Jewish-American composer Flory Jagodain in 1983, explains Pelaia. She adds that its lyrics describe “a child joyfully lighting the menorah candles,” saying that “beautiful Chanukah is here,” and describing all the wonderful things that will happen this time of year. The song counts out the eight candles for the eight days of Chanukah.

Sybil Kaplan is a journalist, lecturer, book reviewer and food writer in Jerusalem. She created and leads the weekly English-language Shuk Walks in Machane Yehuda, she has compiled and edited nine kosher cookbooks, and is the author of Witness to History: Ten Years as a Woman Journalist in Israel.

Song video showcases artists

On Aug. 31, the video for the song “Same Girl” premièred. From the Jessica Stuart Few’s latest CD, The Passage, the song features a “girls’ chorus” that includes some of Jessica Stuart’s teenage guitar students joining her on the melody. The two-minute, 36-second video was filmed in and around Toronto, in its alleyways.

“The directing duo KAJART and I started shooting the video in late April, and shot almost every weekend until early August – over 120 hours of shooting over 1,000 locations in Toronto!” said Stuart. The stop-motion music video is her third collaboration with KAJART, “and we love each other and work incredibly well together!” she said, noting that the other two videos are for the songs “Twice” and for “Passage.”

The recent video premièred on blogTO and had more than 54,000 views and 244 shares at press time. On Sept. 1, it was released on YouTube, and has more than 1,200 views so far. On the YouTube post, watchers are invited to help tag the artists of the more than 400 urban art pieces featured in the video.

Noting that school has just started, Stuart told the Independent that the song is “pretty topical.” Its first lyrics, she said, are “Started off we were going to school – half is classes, half life lessons. I don’t care if we’re learning the rules, I’m always the same, always the same girl.”

The song itself (music, lyrics) was composed and performed by Stuart, who sings and plays the koto (a 13-stringed Japanese harp). She is joined by Charles James (double bass), Jon Foster (drums), Tony Nesbitt-Larking (backing koto), Michael Davidson (vibraphone) and the chorus of Jocelyn Barth, Michelle Willis, Alex Rozenberg, Astrid Granville-Martin, Keira Brody and Bernice Chan.

To view the video and download/order the album on which it appears, visit jessicastuartmusic.com.

The complexities of Ruckus

At first listen for a non-aficionado, Beyond the Pale’s Ruckus may sound like a klezmer CD. An excellently executed and enjoyable one, with maybe a little more swing than you’ve heard before, but klezmer – Southeastern European Jewish music, the accordion, violin and clarinet prominent. On second play, however, is that a reggae beat? Did that piece sound like a French folk song in parts? Is that a mandolin?

Beyond the Pale is known for their fusion of klezmer with jazz, bluegrass, reggae and even classical music. Ruckus is the Toronto-based group’s fourth CD. They debuted with Routes in 2001. Their live recording, Consensus (2004), won three awards and Postcards (2009) also won a bunch of awards. While too early to predict, as Ruckus was just released in June, it would not be surprising if more awards were on the way.

Ruckus isn’t a wedding dance soundtrack. Though it has upbeat pieces that make you want to whirl around your kitchen as you cook dinner – “Ispravnost Licne Vizue” and “Batuta,” for example – it evokes a range of emotions. “Moldavsky” has a stately feel, like one of those ballroom waltzes Jane Austen writes about, while “Ruckus in Ralia” has a driving beat and a sense of urgency. “Andale” slows things down and has a contemplative feel, while listening to “Shutka” will take your imagination to the patio of a Parisian café, with its mournful clarinet and accordion, delicately plucked and wavering mandolin strings, and rich violin tones – a tune resembling “My Funny Valentine” seems to make its way into this eclectic composition.

“Oltenilor” sounds like it’d be at home at a hoedown and “Batuta” has a swinging jazz feel to it for the most part, but sounds like a Chassidic niggun at times and morphs into a kind of fast-paced square dance. Both of these songs feature some wicked plucking of the mandolin.

In Eric Stein’s hands, it’s hard to believe that the mandolin is not a traditional klezmer instrument. His original contribution composition-wise on Ruckus is “The Whole Thing,” the idea for which, he told the CJN, he came up with while playing with whole-tone scales. “It’s got tonality that reflects klezmer and Eastern European folk influences, but it’s also got a funky kind of groove.” And it is definitely based on whole-tone scales.

Six of the 12 songs on Ruckus are originals, while the others are arrangements of traditional melodies. All of the musicians – Bret Higgins (bass), Milos Popovic (accordion), Martin van de Ven (clarinet) and Aleksandar Gajic (violin) – either composed an original piece or participated in the arranging. They are a tight ensemble who play around with tempo and style with such ease that the complexity of what they’ve created isn’t what you’ll first notice. And that’s what makes their music so good.

VICO brings artists together

“I am very proud to be its founding artistic director,” said Moshe Denburg of the Vancouver Inter-Cultural Orchestra. “It’s like watching one’s child succeed in the world!”

But success is not something VICO takes for granted and Denburg said the orchestra team “is doing its best to keep the VICO relevant and vibrant.”

“We are a growing cultural force in B.C. and in Canada today and, in some circles, we are gaining recognition worldwide as well,” he said. “We are still one of a very few orchestral entities in the world dedicated to intercultural work. We do see our work as a window on the future, a future where there may be many intercultural orchestras in many cities…. The project is still quite young, and we need to care for it, materially and artistically, but, if we can continue to garner the support of the community in which we reside, there is every expectation that the VICO will do well for the foreseeable future.”

While Denburg “handed over the artistic reins” of VICO to co-director Mark Armanini in 2014, he still contributes compositions for performance. As well, he said, “I have acted in several capacities: artistic advisor, financial manager, diplomat without portfolio and also project manager in several areas, the main one being the Mystics & Lovers recording project.”

Released in 2016, Mystics & Lovers is a recording of two compositions that were performed by VICO and the chamber choir Laudate Singers the previous year – Ani Ma-amin (I Believe) by Denburg and Asheghaneh (Monologues Aglow) by Iranian-born Farshid Samandari.

photo - Moshe Denburg — Moshe Denburg *(photo from Vancouver Inter-Cultural Orchestra)*

“These two works were the main pieces in the concert in May 2015, and it was decided ahead of time that we would be recording these two and making a CD from them,” explained Denburg. “The full concert program included two a capella choir pieces followed by Asheghaneh in the first half, and then two small ensemble Kurdish pieces (featuring guest soloist Jamal Kurdistani) followed by Ani Ma-amin in the second half.”

Armanini suggested that Ani Ma-amin and Asheghaneh be recorded. “The two works complement each other, and utilize vocal forces to include our collaborating choir, Laudate Singers,” said Denburg. Together, they create a recording that is about 48 minutes in length.

The collaboration between VICO and Laudate goes back to 2002, when Denburg was looking for a choir to sing one of his works. “It was suggested to me by several colleagues to get in touch with Laudate Singers and their director, Lars Kaario,” said Denburg. “This is how our first collaboration came about – in February 2003, we actually featured the world première of Ani Ma-amin.”

Since then, he said, “Laudate Singers have really felt a connection to what we are doing. The intercultural element is very striking, and gives the singers an opportunity to see and hear non-Western instruments and musicians up close and personal. For the VICO, working with choir gives us an opportunity to expand the 25-member (approximately) orchestra with 25 voices, creating a very impressive sonic and visual experience. It also helps to combine our audiences, a great synergy in the arts, where fans are often hard to find, and harder to hold onto.

“The present realization of Ani Ma-amin differs a little from the original, not musically but rather in the instrumentation,” he added. “Certain instruments that were available in 2003 were not available in 2015, so some substitutions had to be made. This is part of the intercultural process today – for example, if we want an oud (short-necked Middle Eastern lute) player, we have maybe two to choose from; if someone moves away and another is unavailable, we simply do not have that instrument at hand; this is unlike a violinist, let’s say, where you can have several hundred professional players in Vancouver.

“Also of note is that one year after the première in 2003, Laudate and VICO, with a contingent of players from the VSO [Vancouver Symphony Orchestra], performed Ani Ma-amin at the Orpheum Theatre in a tribute concert of peace for the Dalai Lama, who was visiting (April 2004). In the audience were other dignitaries as well – the late Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, Iranian peace laureate Shirin Ebadi and Archbishop Desmond Tutu.”

The press release for Mystics & Lovers highlights the common themes of Ani Ma-amin and Asheghaneh, which Laudate Singers also premièred, in 2006.

“Both draw on the poetic best of many cultures in order to build bridges between them,” says the release. “Both strive for unity in diversity, expressing a longing for peace and understanding, and seeking connection between personal love and spiritual devotion. Both make use of the human voice and instruments from many countries, both ancient and contemporary, to highlight both the commonality and contrasting expressions of these deeply human sentiments, and both draw on centuries-old texts (by the 12th-century rabbi/philosopher Maimonides in Ani Ma-amin and the 11th-century Persian poet/philosopher Baba Tahir in Asheghaneh) that still resonate today.”

photo - Farshid Samandari — Farshid Samandari *(photo from Vancouver Inter-Cultural Orchestra)*

“While Moshe’s approach is more ‘orchestral’ in the sense of blending the colours to create new shades, I tend to focus on individual colours and the transformation of timbre,” says Samandari in the release. “Also, while Moshe, in creating his polyphony, draws upon the accepted Western chordal system, I explore species counterpoint, combining different musical styles and sonorities to create harmonies. Finally, Ani Ma-amin is a statement of belief in an ideal (Messiah); Asheghaneh describes a journey through trials and tribulations, reaching for the ideal (Beloved, by whatever name you call Him/Her).”

“Two aspects of our human expression are directly represented and expressed by the two works on the recording,” Denburg told the Independent. “My work is an expression of devotion to the ‘messiah idea,’ a time of peace and of goodwill, whereas the Samandari work takes as its starting point the yearning of the lover. However, both works cross over into the other’s realm: the messianic time yearned for in Ani Ma-amin will ultimately be crowned by the embrace of lovers; and the beloved who is yearned for in Asheghaneh is readily understood as the divine presence. This is the connection: the realms of the mystic and the lover come together.

“Musically speaking, Farshid and I draw upon different musical experiences – in my view, he is concerned with transformations of his experience with Persian musical ideas and modes, whereas I am coming from a Jewish modal perspective. I am also informed by my experiences in India, and this can be heard in the third movement, with the kind of melismatic singing which emulates Indian vocal technique. I would say that what unifies us is the use of modes in our works, and thus a certain melodic lyricism. To my mind, Farshid also draws upon the spirit of chanting in the Iranian Bahá’í tradition. So really, two strong sacred traditions are represented here.”

Since its founding in 2001 as a society, VICO has commissioned and performed almost 100 pieces (small- and large-scale), said Denburg, noting that there are several ways a piece gets commissioned. One way is to apply to the Canada Council “to raise funds to commission a significant new work from a particular composer.”

As well, he said, VICO holds workshops for established composers wanting to learn about writing for non-Western instruments and workshops and classes for young student composers. The established composers will create pieces using “smaller forces, perhaps one non-Western instrument with a string quartet,” while the students “are encouraged to write for small combinations of instruments, and have their pieces premièred as part of a recital; such was the case recently at our inaugural Summer Academy (June 26-July 1),” said Denburg. “Finally, directors of the VICO, in collaboration with interested composers, decide to commission a new work directly.

“The decision to commission a particular composer, in a particular style, is made once the main theme of a concert or a festival project is established. For example, we recently held a festival called Hands On (June 6-11), a series of concerts featuring percussion and drums from all over the world. It included many melodic instruments as well, and composers were sought out to write for the combinations of instruments at our disposal. When we include both large and small commissions, our recent festival, Hands On, and the Summer Academy brought about the creation of 12 to 15 new works.”

Mystics & Lovers is available for purchase on the VICO website (vi-co.org), at iTunes and at other digital music stores.

An out-of-hand hobby

Si Kahn plays at the folk festival, which runs July 13-16. (photo from sikahn.com)

While Charlotte, N.C.-based folk musician Si Kahn – who’s coming to play at the Vancouver Folk Music Festival next week – may have called the United States home for most of his 73 years, he spent about 12 of his first 16 months of life in Canada. His father, Rabbi Benjamin Kahn, was sent to Montreal by B’nai B’rith in 1944 to help set up the Hillel Foundation at McGill University, which he did for just over a year before being called back to Pennsylvania State University.

“I like to say that I don’t have a single negative memory of my time in Montreal,” said Kahn, whose father eventually became the international director of B’nai B’rith Hillel Foundation (1959-1971).

And Kahn’s Canada cred goes back further.

“After my paternal grandfather, Gabriel Kahn, deserted the czar’s army and walked across Europe, he was a pick-and-shovel labourer for the Canadian Pacific Railway, helping build the ‘northern spur’ through the [Canadian] Shield towards Timmins,” Kahn told the Independent. “He was also a hod carrier in Winnipeg, helping build the Royal Alexandra Hotel, carrying 100 pounds of bricks or mortar up 10 or more storeys on his shoulders.”

Kahn tells his grandfather’s story – and that of many other members of his family – in the musical Hope. The song “Crossing the Border” highlights the border-crossings of his grandfather’s journey from Russia: “He got passage to Nova Scotia / Got married in Manitoba … Then he moved down south of the border / By the mills on the Merrimack River / He pumped gas and kept store for a living / Raised up his daughter and sons.”

Gabriel and his wife, Celia, settled in Lowell, Mass., said Kahn, who wrote about his Jewish roots and their influence on his music in an article called “The Chords that Bind.”

“When I was growing up … our family sang together,” he writes. “On the Sabbath and on holidays, we would stay at the dinner table long after the food and dishes had been cleared, and we would sing. Because musical instruments were not allowed on the Sabbath, we sang without instrumentation – but not without accompaniment.”

From his paternal grandfather, he learned “the fine points of creating a rhythm section, using only two basic variations (closed fist and open palm) of the basic hand-on-table technique.” From his parents, he and his sister, Jenette – whose career in the comic book industry included being president of DC Comics for more than 20 years – learned “the rudiments of high and low harmony, made up as you go along.”

The songs they sang were mostly prayers. “We sang a little bit in Yiddish, too, folk and story songs from the Old Country, which in this case meant almost any place in Europe,” he notes. And, despite his not understanding most of what he was singing, he did understand “what the songs really meant to us as Jews, as a family, as people in the world. They were our bond, our unity, our affirmation, our courage. They were our way of claiming our rhythmic and harmonic relation with each other and with our community. Our songs reinforced our solidarity, our sense that we could overcome the obstacles in our path.”

As for when his musical career began, Kahn told the Independent, “You might say I ‘turned professional’ in 1974. I had just turned 30 years old a few months before I recorded my first album, an LP titled New Wood, which was released in 1975 on June Appal Records.

“One of my first paid public performances was in 1979 … at the second-ever Vancouver Folk Music Festival. I’d led traditional labour and civil rights songs at rallies and demonstrations and on picket lines, but Vancouver was one of the first times I played my own original songs in public.

“While I do consider myself a professional musician, and while I’m a longtime member of the American Federation of Musicians (AFM), music has always been a very part-time vocation for me. My lifetime identity and work since I was 21 years old has been as a civil rights, labour and community organizer.

“I once told a reporter that my music is ‘a hobby that got out of hand.’ That’s really an accurate description. I typically do no more than three festivals and a dozen concerts each year at most. Most of my appearances are benefits for progressive nonprofits,” he said, adding that he’d be performing at the Vancouver Folk Music Festival house-party fundraiser on July 12.

Kahn heads to Orillia, Ont., for a July 7 performance at the Mariposa Folk Festival. From there, he’ll come to Vancouver for the folk festival, but also “to do some organizing work for Musicians United to Protect Bristol Bay.” It’s a cause he’s been helping on a volunteer basis since 2010 – the campaign’s goal is “to stop the Pebble Mine, and to protect permanently Alaska’s Bristol Bay, a cultural and environmental treasure, and one of the world’s last remaining great wild salmon fisheries.” He has donated all of the income from his 18th CD, called Bristol Bay, to the musicians’ group.

About combining music with activism, Kahn said, “The defining moment for me came when I was working with the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) on the Arkansas side of the Mississippi River Delta in the summer of 1965, when I was 21 years old, during the Southern Civil Rights Movement, which was very much a singing movement. That was when I first began to understand the usefulness of music in movements for social justice.”

Among Kahn’s many achievements in the social justice arena was being, in the early 1980s, an initial organizer and the founding national board chair for the Jewish Fund for Justice, the predecessor to Bend the Arc: A Jewish Partnership for Justice. He has written three books on community organizing.

“I see myself as an organizer, which I consider a specific type of activism, rather than as an activist,” he explained. “Organizers work to bring people together so that they can use the power of numbers to counter the power of money, authority and/or force.

“In any organizing campaign, in any campaign for justice, there will be competing sets of ‘facts.’ Whether our facts are more accurate/truthful than their facts isn’t nearly as important as whether, through organizing, we can build enough collective power to persuade those who have the ability to make the change, or changes, we’re asking for to meet our demands.”

On the topic of truth, Kahn said, “For me, there’s a difference between accuracy and truthfulness. Take, for example, the story of Moses receiving the Ten Commandments on Mount Sinai. Is that story accurate in the literal sense? But it should be told and retold truthfully, meaning that it’s our responsibility to transmit the story as it was told to us, whether verbally or in written form.

“My question is whether, in the real world, it’s even possible to differentiate,” he said. “If someone believes something passionately, it’s more than likely that no amount of either ‘facts’ or ‘alternative facts’ is going to persuade them to change their mind.

“Minds are more likely to be changed by experience. One of an organizer’s roles is to help the people she/he is working with have experiences through which they achieve a sense of possibility, that the world might be different for them and for others like them.

“This is also one of the places where storytelling can be useful. Years ago, I was in an audience listening to former U.S. senator Paul Simon. I don’t recall the specifics but, at one point, he was challenged on his support for legislation concerned with disability rights. He could have answered with facts/statistics (or, for that matter, with ‘alternative facts’). Instead, he said, ‘Let me tell you about a young man I know,’ and proceeded from there.”

In the musical Hope, there is a song called “Dreamers,” the chorus of which calls for us to “honour the dreamers.”

“I consider myself a ‘practical radical,’ someone who helps people work towards what at least appear – based on careful analysis and strategic thinking – to be achievable goals,” said Kahn. “If that’s being a dreamer, dayenu.

“There are many things I’d like to see in this world we share that I just don’t see as possible. I may be wrong in that judgment. But, if I’m going to help people organize themselves in order to achieve a goal they share, I need to believe there’s at least one and hopefully several practical paths to achieving that goal.

“The ‘dreamers’ I honour are those who not only have a dream, but who do everything they can to make it real.”

For the Vancouver Folk Music Festival’s 25th anniversary, Kahn wrote the song “For Canada,” which recalls the Underground Railway, the slaves making their dangerous way here: “When all hope was failing, think what strength it gave / To dream about a country that no longer held a slave….” A country to which, “… my own father’s father came with willing hands / To bend his back and lay the track across this wild land….”

And it was on his way home (by car) from his 1979 festival appearance that Kahn wrote “Plains of Canada,” the lyrics of which show his affection for the country – an affection that endures.

And so, too, does his love of singing and performing.

“Vancouver resident Josh Dunson, who was my agent for over 30 years until his retirement from the music business, once told me that what I bring to my musical performances is my many years’ experience as an organizer. That’s a very perceptive observation and a good description of what I try to do in the musical part of my life and work,” said Kahn. “When I’m planning a concert, when I’m on stage, I’m doing my best to help those who are listening feel that they’re not so much a passive audience but active participants. Sometimes this means singing along, sometimes it means thinking about what they’re hearing and applying it to their own lives and their own work. It’s that possibility that still excites me even after all these years.”

This year’s folk festival, once again at Jericho Beach, starts with a free concert the night of July 13, and then there are day and weekend passes that can be purchased for the performances July 14-16. For tickets and the full schedule, visit thefestival.bc.ca.

Join Bob Bossin at folk fest

Bob Bossin as Davy in Davy and the Punk. (photo by Derek Kilbourn)

For legendary Canadian folksinger Bob Bossin, who has called Gabriola Island home since 1991, it all started with “The King.”

“It was Elvis,” he told the Independent about his start in music. Bossin is among the performers featured at this July’s Vancouver Folk Music Festival. “I loved the early rock ’n’ rollers, and asked my parents for a guitar when I was 9. They bought the cheapest one – ‘he’ll never stick with it’ – and I only stuck with it because they said I wouldn’t.

“That would have been 1955,” he said. “It only took a few years for the music industry to take over rock ’n’ roll and turn it mushy. Then, one night in 1958, I was listening to the radio and they played a spare, strange song about a man who was about to be hanged for murdering a woman, a particular woman named Laura Foster. His name was Tom Dooley. It was the damndest song I’d ever heard. I was hooked by folk music and have stayed hooked for 60-plus years.”

For Bossin, “Folk music is just the musical expression of what you might otherwise talk about or write about or argue about or read about.

“I suppose I like performing because I like the attention. I also like that you can get ideas across, sometimes profoundly, once you’ve learned the skills to do that. When I was performing Davy the Punk, my show about my dad’s life in the 1930s gambling business, I loved to show an audience that you could spark their interest and pull them into a world they knew little about, and do it with just a bare stage, a beat-up acoustic guitar and 50-odd years of learning how to tell a story.

“At this late date in my performing career,” he said, “I also realize there is a part of the history of folk music that we old fogies can share, those of us who saw or hung out with Rev. Gary Davis, Jean Carignan, Dave Van Ronk, the Seegers and so on.”

It was in 1971 that Bossin and Marie-Lynn Hammond formed Stringband. Their first album was Canadian Sunset and, with various other band members, they toured for some 15 years and recorded seven albums. They went from one end of the country to other, and back again, more than once.

Writes Bossin on his website, “We played, over the years, in the U.S., U.K., U.S.S.R., Europe, Japan, Mexico and Newfoundland. The list of musicians who sat in or recorded with us is too long to recite, though it includes Nancy Ahern, Daniel Lanois, Stan Rogers, Kieran Overs and Jane Fair. The songs we made (sort of) famous include ‘Dief Will be the Chief Again,’ ‘The Maple Leaf Dog,’ ‘I Don’t Sleep with Strangers Anymore,’ ‘La jeune mariee,’ ‘Tugboats,’ ‘Daddy was a Ballplayer,’ ‘All the Horses Running,’ ‘Lunenburg Concerto’ and ‘Show Us the Length.’”

The music industry has changed in so many ways since he began his career, said Bossin. “When we started Stringband in 1971, there was no indie music scene, virtually no indie recording. Some credit us with starting that whole movement in Canada, and there is some truth to that.

“They say it is harder to earn a living as a musician now, but it is also easier to get your music out there. There are so many more ways to reach specialized audiences like folkies. So, while it probably is harder to be a professional musician, that has never been what folk music is about at its core. I think the internet, the social networks and all that high-tech stuff have been a great boon to folk music, to people making and sharing music about what they and their communities care about.”

Bossin has certainly used technology to inform, educate and influence people on environmental issues. As examples, the video Sulphur Passage was an integral part of the campaign that saved Clayoquot Sound from clear-cut logging, and his 10-minute video laying out the potential consequences of Kinder Morgan’s Burnaby plans has more than 12,000 views since it was posted at the end of April.

“I remember thinking, when I decided to join the fight against turning Vancouver into an oil port, that I probably had one more good fight in me. And it has been a great experience, I’ve met lovely people, been learning a lot,” said Bossin. “On the other side of the ledger, my YouTube video Only One Bear in a Hundred Bites but They Don’t Come in Order, has gone positively viral. It may have even changed a few votes in the provincial election. If it helped get rid of those heartless bastards that have been in power here for far too long, hooray!”

Bossin is quite comfortable mixing music and politics. About the role of art in a society, he said it should be “to make people’s lives better, by the beauty of the sound or the freshness of the vision. Or by contributing to the struggle for a better and more just world. Or, these days, just to there being a habitable world at all.”

Born and raised in Toronto, Bossin lived in Vancouver from 1980 until he moved to Gabriola. His mother, Marcia, was an artist and his dad was “Davy the Punk” – Bossin wrote both the book Davy the Punk: A Story of Bookies, Toronto the Good, the Mob and My Dad (The Porcupine’s Quill, 2014) and the musical version. His music credits also include the records The Roses on Annie’s Table (2005) and Gabriola V0R1X0 (1994); in the late 1980s, he created the musical play Bossin’s Home Remedy for Nuclear War, which he performed some 200 times. He has written essays, articles and poetry that have been published by various outlets over the years, and his book Settling Clayoquot (1981) was part of the Province of British Columbia’s Sound Heritage Series. In 2007, he published the short story Latkes, which was illustrated by fabric artist and fellow Jewish community member Sima Elizabeth Shefrin – the two met in 2005 and were married in 2012.

When asked by the JI if he’d like to add anything else, he said, “I’m the oldest softball player on Gabriola Island. Possibly ever.”

For more on Bossin, visit bossin.com. For the full Vancouver Folk Music Festival schedule, visit thefestival.bc.ca – the festival starts with a Thursday night concert this year, running July 13-16 at Jericho Beach.

Caravan welcomes Vazana

Amsterdam’s Noam Vazana will play in Vancouver and Victoria next week. (photo by Robin Daniel Fromann)

Multifaceted Jerusalem-born, Amsterdam-based musician Noam Vazana comes to Canada this month for the first time. She plays in Calgary June 6, Vancouver June 7 and Victoria June 8.

Vazana’s B.C. dates are presented by Caravan World Rhythms, whose managing artistic director is Robert Benaroya, and she will perform with local guitarist and composer Itamar Erez, who also hails from Israel.

“I heard about Itamar through a joint musician friend, Yishai Afterman, and through the presenter of the show, Robert Benaroya,” Vazana told the Independent. “We got to know each other by phone and on Chat. Our first shows together will be in Vancouver and Victoria.”

Vazana’s music has myriad influences, including classical, pop, jazz and Sephardi. She composes, and has two CDs to her credit, Daily Sketch (2011) and Love Migration (2014). Performing regularly on stages around the world, she returns to the Netherlands after her shows in Canada, but has Poland, Morocco, Germany, France and Israel also on her tour schedule.

“This is an amazing year, performing 90 concerts in 12 countries,” she said. “I consider myself very lucky to combine my two greatest passions, music and traveling. I get inspired from new people and new places. I get excited every time before I go on tour – the night before, I can hardly sleep because I can already feel new experiences at my doorstep, waiting to accompany me or take me over or be a part of who I’m about to become. Bob Dylan said once that an artist is always in the state of becoming; somehow, it seems that in order to stay creative I always have to be on the way to somewhere.”

One of the unique aspects of her performance is that she plays the piano and trombone – at the same time.

“My first encounter with the trombone was in an explanatory concert the local orchestra gave at my school,” she said of her somewhat unusual choice of wind instrument. “They were demonstrating several instruments and, the moment I heard the trombone, I fell in love with its rich tenor sound. Another thing that appealed to me is that the trombone is an orchestral or combo instrument, so mostly you play it in a formation. When playing classical piano, especially the old-fashioned way, my teachers always told me it was forbidden to try when I asked to improvise and learn chords and songs. So, I mainly kept to the scores and played alone as a child. It sounded cool to me to play in an orchestra and get to play things that were out of the classical context I was already exposed to.”

The trombone stands she uses had to be invented, she said, “and designed especially for the purpose of playing trombone and piano simultaneously.”

“I first used a model I designed myself from a tripod used to support a window-shopping mannequin,” she explained. “It was working quite well but had one main flaw: it was centred right in front of me, in the middle of the keyboard, so I had to be very creative with the piano parts and manoeuvre around it when moving between the registers.

“Then I had a second prototype designed by an engineer who had good intentions but his strength lay in theory and not in mechanical skill. I was struggling to set up the stand during a soundcheck and the owner of the venue told me he knew a blacksmith who might be able to help me. That guy is amazing, autodidact with phenomenal skill, designing motorcycle engines from scratch. He mended the flaws of the second model and eventually created a much lighter third prototype, which is the stand I use today. I have two different models, one for pianos and the other for keyboard.”

Vazana also leads a Sephardi group called Nani, and she will be performing some songs from that repertoire on her tour. While the spark for Nani was kindled in Morocco, its source lies further back.

“At our house, Israeli culture was eminent,” said Vazana. “My father grew up in a kibbutz and I was brought up part traditional, part secular. Foreign languages were forbidden at home and, although my mother spoke fluent Moroccan Arabic and French, my father insisted she talk to me only in Hebrew.

“My grandmother on my mother’s side spoke Ladino and Moroccan Arabic and never assimilated in the Israeli culture, so some of my first memories include her speaking Ladino with my aunt and singing Ladino lullabies for me. She passed away when I was 12 – you can imagine that, throughout my childhood, she was very old and I didn’t get to spend a lot of time with her.

“In both 2012 and 2013, I was invited to play at the Tanjazz festival in Tangier and I took these opportunities to explore the cities where my families originated from, Casablanca and Fez. On my second visit to Morocco, in 2013, during one of my many walks down the narrow streets of Fez’s medina, I heard people singing on the street behind me. As I made way to them, there came more and more people, singing and playing drums and wind instruments, all to a familiar melody. The procession ended in a square and, as I arrived there – I was one of hundreds of people, young and old – I suddenly realized this is a melody that my grandmother used to sing for me in Ladino. It was a special moment and the rest of my travels in Morocco called memories of my grandmother back to me. I felt drawn to a root that was longing to be rediscovered.

“When I got back home,” she said, “I started researching more and more about the Ladino language and culture and started combining a song or two in Ladino in my regular shows. Slowly, I studied the language over the course of a year and developed a substantial repertoire. It resulted in recording a new Ladino album that will be released in September 2017, and winning the Sephardic music award … at the International Jewish Music Festival in Amsterdam,” which took place last month, May 4-8.

Vazana first visited Amsterdam on tour with an orchestra, as a classical trombone player, she said. “At the time, I was a student at the music academy in Jerusalem and this was intended as a 10-day work trip and another 10 days to explore the Netherlands, as it was my first visit. I checked some information about local musicians and schools and applied for lessons with musicians from the Concertgebouw Orchestra.

“After having a lesson with their bass trombonist,” she said, “he asked me if I’d be willing to come back for another lesson with his colleague, the principal trombone player. After a 45-minute lesson, they both decided to invite me to study with them at the Royal Conservatory of Amsterdam, with an internship at the Concertgebouw Orchestra. The day later, I found myself attending a rehearsal with the orchestra, absolutely mind-blowing, because it was the best orchestra I ever heard live (and the No. 1 in Europe at the time). It didn’t take a lot more to convince me to quit my studies in Jerusalem and transfer to Amsterdam.”

This move forms the creative foundation of Vazana’s second album, which won the ACUM (Israel Association of Composers, Authors and Publishers of Musical Works) album prize, charted No. 14 on the iTunes bestselling chart and No. 2 on DPRP’s (Dutch Progressive Rock Page’s) best albums of 2015. It was financed in part by crowdfunding, through which 800 advance copies were sold. (There is a video, set to her song “Waiting,” in which Vazana personally delivers the CD to various supporters, giving each of them a hug. It can be found at youtube.com/watch?v=tW5Y2IEjgI0.)

“Love Migration is a very personal and exposed album, combining parallel stories about two migrations: my first migration to follow my heart, which is music, while longing to find a feeling of home. The second migration is the long-distance relationship I had with an Israeli guy whom I met just as my EU visa was approved, eventually resulting in him migrating to live with me so I could continue to follow my dream,” explained Vazana. “The process took three years to evolve into stories one can retell [with] perspective…. It could have turned many ways, but my personal search eventually led me (and still is leading me) towards taking the feeling of home with me wherever I go. It has been a long journey, but life is a journey and I feel that I evolve every day anew. In my song ‘Lost and Found,’ I describe that sensation: “Every time I look in the mirror / Every time I stand in the corner / Every time I knock something over / It’s a way for starting over / It’s a way to see it anew.”

Vazana and Erez’s Vancouver concert is at Frankie’s Jazz Club June 7, 8 p.m., and their Victoria appearance is at Hermann’s Jazz Club June 8, 8 p.m. Tickets to both shows are $20 at the door and $15 in advance. Visit caravanbc.com or call 778-886-8908.