Professor David Peimer
Great South African Jazz: Miriam Makeba, Hugh Masekela, Vusi Mahlasela

Professor David Peimer - Great South African Jazz: Miriam Makeba, Hugh Masekela, Vusi Mahlasela

- Right, we’re going to look at some of the greats of South African Jazz, who I’ve always loved and I think are fantastic. We all love, you know, rock and roll, folk music, blues, jazz, classical. And I think these are some of the individuals who made such important contributions in South Africa and, you know, one could argue globally as well. I just want to say at the beginning, my thanks to a very good friend of mine, going back to university days, Peter Jaspan in Johannesburg, for sharing some wonderful ideas about jazz and classical music, because he’s a wonderful musician and composer. So, if I can say this at the beginning, jazz, what on earth do we really feel when we listen to jazz? Why do we like it? What do we want? And it was interesting, I just did a little bit of a survey amongst just some random friends, family of all different ages who are, you know, partly jazz enthusiasts like I am. And got some fun responses. In jazz, you’re never lost, you’re just improvising to the next chord. It’s that improvisation quality that is so different to obviously, other forms of music in terms of playing, or scripts even in plays, you know, follow the words, follow the dialogue, follow, you know, the written composition in other forms of music. Jazz is the only place where a wrong note is an adventure. In jazz, mistakes even have rhythm. Playing jazz is like driving in rush hour traffic. You don’t know what’s coming next, but you got to roll with it. And I think these kind of things give a sense of the freedom and the structure of jazz as a whole.

And we don’t have time to go into all the details of that today, but it’s that sense of freedom and structure and the ability to always improvise with life. And, you know, you make a plan, but you’ve got to adapt the plan. This changes that, curve balls, and life happen. And you know, for me, it echoes so much of contemporary and life probably before as well. This whole idea of, you know, jazz. We know the origins, of course, African America going way back, obviously, linked to slavery times and coming after. This isn’t the time to go into all of that because I’m focusing here on the South African jazz, but we’ll look at some of the American influence on the South Africans emerging primarily from the townships during apartheid, and then after. One of the main ideas which a lot of people have spoken about in terms of South African music and jazz playing a huge role in that, the major role is that it’s almost become globally, rightly or wrongly, but it’s become a symbol of resistance to injustice. Music as a symbol of injustice to what’s maybe going on in the society, not music, sort of, which is so polemical and didactic hammered in down your throat. But the beauty and the joy and the sheer magic of jazz music. You know, having a kind of covert extra impact in that way. There’s a wonderful 2002 documentary, if anybody’s interested, and it’s called, “Revolution in Four Part Harmony,” which was done about these South African jazz musicians and others as well, because it came to be seen as part of that, the link between music and of course, theatre and other forms of arts.

How they contributed to the sense of resistance to prejudice. Obviously, the American influence, we look at together with the township feeling of, you know, the rough tough, very hard township life and finding moments of joy in such cruel, hard, tough times through the music again. The blues, the jazz, the folk, you know, rock much later. All of these things coming out of that spirit, that original spirit, I think, which does link to this idea of resistance and injustice, prejudice, whichever we may think about. And the other thing that South Africans bring to it is a sense of exile ‘cause a lot of these great musicians, composers went into exile, which I’ll be talking about today, forced exile, you know, once they started to become known at a very young age in their early 20s, you know, forced exile where they couldn’t go back to South Africa and were playing it and had to make it, you know, didn’t have much money, had to make it from scratch. So there’s the sense of exile, longing, lamentation, belonging, together with this idea of music as a form of resistance to injustice. Again, I really have to stress it, it’s not a simplistic polemical or a binary approach to resistance. It’s loving and embracing the forms of the music, in this case, jazz.

So you have joy and beauty and magic, underneath it, you have this other idea or theme, if you like. So it’s a story of how the music of lament, of protest, of resistance, reclaiming humanity that had been violently stolen, comes back together with embracing the pure technique and joys of the music itself and the structures of jazz itself. The influences were Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker, Thelonious Monk, we can go on and on. At the very beginning, one of the very important musicals, which I’m going to go into a little bit, was “King Kong,” which I’ll talk about in a little while. The Sharpville massacre of 1960, of course, had a huge effect because after that, many of these musicians and many others had to leave the country and find some way to exist, survive and if they could play their music and sing in exile from the country, 60 years, as most South Africans will know, every South African will know, was a massive turning point in the political history of the country and the cultural history, as a result, mass exodus, Abdullah Ibrahim or “Dollar Brand” as he was called then at the time, he leaves, the trumpeter, Hugh Masekela, the remarkable singer, Miriam Makeba I’m going to go in today, all leave, as do a whole lot of others, Kippie Moeketsi, and a whole lot of others. So these are the main ones I’m focusing on, if we can go to the next slide, please.

So it’s the first one, “Mama Africa,” Miriam Makeba, one of the greats to come out of South Africa. And she, in a way, I think her life was such an extraordinary life of tragedy, of difficulty, of turmoil, of love, of passion, of achieving the heights in America and globally as a jazz singer, probably not by chance, she was called, “Mama Africa,” but not by chance, she became, I think, the biggest icon by far of all, starting at such a tender young age, you know, 19, 20, 21 in Johannesburg. So Miriam Makeba, her mother was a domestic worker who was imprisoned for about six months for brewing beer illegally. South Africans know, she set up a shebeen or what we might call today, a kind of a homegrown little tavern. Her mother was also a sangoma or if you like, practitioner of traditional medicine and using herbs, et cetera. And the young Miriam Makeba loved singing in church as so many of these artists, it all begins in the church at a very young tender age. So gospel, of course, music coming in very strongly. She combines jazz and some traditional African melodies and certainly, sounds and in the language, and that’s a fascinating fusion, you know, as fusion has evolved today so hugely.

She was the female lead in the great, one of the most important musical theatre plays that came out of South Africa, written by Todd Matshikiza, I was quite friendly with his friend… with his friend, with his son. But Todd Matshikiza wrote “King Kong” 1959, and not many people may know, but “King Kong” was the original, had nothing to do with apes and all of that. The original was a musical written in the late 50s in South Africa, was about a boxer, Ezekiel Dlamini, who reached the height of boxing prowess and technique, you know, and if he’d gone on, he might well have challenged for world championship, et cetera. But it’s literally the story of the boxer. And the press dubbed him “King Kong” because, you know, he could do a Kong with a punch, basically, township snag. Back to the essence of the story, but he was a superbly rising up and coming young black boxer from the townships in the 50s. And he got involved with the local township gangsters or Mafia. And his girlfriend in the musical and in life, not quite sure the details, but she seemed to be having a big affair with the boss of the gangster gang from the township. And the details still have to be researched more. But anyway, in the musical, he kills his girlfriend and he did that in real life, and he was then later sent to prison. He in prison at a very young tender age, in his early 30s, he committed suicide.

So it’s the real story of Ezekiel Dlamini and the title was, “King Kong.” Todd Matshikiza, who was a journalist and a writer, wonderful writer in South Africa at the time in the 50s, and wrote this musical theatre play called, “King Kong,” which toured internationally in South Africa, internationally, huge, huge success. The really first huge in homegrown South African musical with jazz music, that’s the key. And looking for singers and musicians that would fit it. And of course, they’re all coming out of, you know, black township areas during apartheid times. It’s been called, a jazz opera, it’s been called, a musical theatre play. It’s been called a range of things. I think it’s a mixture of all of them. She married the co-star, Hugh Masekela who went on to become one of the great trumpeters, friends of Dizzy Gillespie and Louis Armstrong and many others as his career progressed in exile. And they arrived in New York, Hugh Masekela and Miriam Makeba, arrived in New York in 1959 and had to go into exile because the South African government refused to renew their passports so they were stateless, homeless, they couldn’t go back. They were already just musicians and singers at such a young age, you know, early 20s. She goes on to win a Grammy Award in 1965. She’s the first black woman to have a top 10 worldwide hit with the song, “Pata Pata” in 1967, which I’m going to play today. 1964, Miriam Makeba went to Israel and she sang in Hebrew, “Erev Shel Shoshanim,” which she performed in Israel and I’m going to play a clip, which I managed to find today after looking a hell of a lot.

And Carina, thank you for your help and Georgia for putting it in today after a long search. 1968, she married the militant African-American civil rights activist, Black Panther leader, Stokely Carmichael, later divorced, she addresses United Nations twice against apartheid. She joined Paul Simons, highly successful, “Graceland” later on that tour. She campaigns against HIV and AIDS and the horrific tragedy that was introduced by the Mbeki government, who refused to recognise it as a real disease. Makeba also became the first African musician, I think truly the first to achieve worldwide global recognition. In a sense, she brought some African music to a western audience, or let’s say, African-American jazz to a massive western audience through the magic of her voice, the singing. At a very young age, she had to leave school. She was a teenager, 14, and she had to work, she worked as a nanny, you know, in South Africa at the time, trying to help her mother. Much later, going on, fast-forwarding, Harry Belafonte becomes a good friend, helped her with her move and what she called, the obvious pain of exile. And after the Sharpville massacre in 1960, where two of her immediate family members were killed in that Sharpville massacre in 1960. The South African government refused her permission to go home for the funeral of her mother and these two relatives who had been killed in the Sharpville massacre. So they cancelled her passport basically, because she couldn’t go in the country. She became an obvious outspoken critic of apartheid.

Time Magazine called her, quoting, “One of the most exciting new singing talents in many years.” Newsweek at the time said, “She has a voice, which has smoky tones and the delicate phrasing of Ella Fitzgerald.” So the American audience took her right into, embraced her and put her right up in the stratosphere, if you like, of the great jazz icons. 1962, Miriam Makeba and Harry Belafonte sang at the birthday of President Kennedy at Madison Square Garden. '68, she’s a neighbour of Dizzy Gillespie, the great, great jazz musician. She’s friendlies with Martin Brando, Lauren Bacall, Louis Armstrong, Ray Charles, Nina Simone, et cetera. As I said, she went to Israel in 1963 and sang in Hebrew, which I’m going to play. The CIA, the FBI are following her. 1976, her daughter Bongi died in childbirth. And we can imagine what that’s like. It’s a vocal harmony, the ability to take African rhythms and sounds, mix it with American jazz, ragtime, church gospel hymns. Marabi, which was a hugely popular form of township music in South Africa of jazz. And a kind of, if we like, Americanized, Africanized music in the end, a sense of a fusion, what we call today. One interesting scholar wrote that it was combining township styles with jazz-influenced balladry. She released more than 30 albums in her lifetime. And it’s the voice, just listen to how she can vary that voice with so many different ways.

Going to play, “The Click Song” as well, also in Zulu, and you know, in the end, she became probably one of the most visible Africans in America and in the global stage, hence she’s called, “Mama Africa.” 1965, at a very young age still, in her 20s, she wins a Grammy Award. Rolling Stone Magazine, they put her at position number 53 of a list of 200 greatest singers of all time. And this was a survey they did in 2023, not bad for a kid coming from all of that. Number 53, the greatest singers of all time. Okay, so if we can go on to the next clip, please. This is Miriam Makeba in the early 60s in Israel singing in Israeli, singing the song in Hebrew. Can you make it a bit louder, Georgia, if possible? Thanks Georgia, if we can freeze it there. So if we can imagine, she’s in her early 20s, so young, she goes to Israel '63, and she learns Hebrew to sing it with such beautiful, delicate nuance and tone. It’s again, that vocal ability to get every syllable, every breath, so nuanced within the overall structure. And to learn it in the language, I mean, how many singers that we know of today would go to Israel or any country and learn the language and sing it in the language of the country they’re visiting.

Extraordinary. So if we can go to the next slide, please. And this is Miriam Makeba singing one of the great famous songs that she made globally popular, “The Click Song,” also singing primarily in Xhosa. You can play it, please. Put the sound up a bit. Okay, if we could stay there, please. Thanks, so this is one of the great classics, one of her huge worldwide hits, you know, for obvious reasons. And we get, I suppose pretty clear, the township African influence, South African influence together with aspects of African-American jazz music and playing with that, but it’s a kind of joyous celebratory tone as well, sort of bring out that sense of how she can play with her voice. You know, her voice always sounds to me like as if the raw voice is a wave, but her technique is the surfing the wave. She can shift it and manipulate it, control it all the way through. Okay, the next one I want to play is Miriam Makeba singing the “Pata Pata” song, which became also, one of the huge hits that she did, which came out of the “King Kong” musical. Right at the beginning when she arrived in America on the Ed Sullivan Show. We can play the next one, please.

• Here is the magnificent African artist, Miriam Makeba, Miriam. ♪ Everybody on Saturday night ♪ ♪ It’s Pata Pata time ♪ ♪ The music keeps going all night long ♪ ♪ Till the morning sun begins to shine ♪

• Okay, if we can hold it there, please. Thank you. So this is the other great song, “The Click Song,” the “Pata Pata,” and some others, but those are the two biggest hits, I think that she had globally over a remarkably long and remarkable career. Such a young, young Miriam Makeba, early 20s, just arrived in America with the musical, “King Kong,” we know the story, she can’t go back to South Africa, exile, and yet, the joy, the celebration, the feeling of it that she’s sharing through the music and of course, her charisma. Okay, I want to play the next one, please. Which is her playing another song, Miriam Makeba, this is of course, in the honour of Mandela.

♪ I see my light come shining ♪ So she plays with Nina Simone. ♪ From the west down to the east ♪ Obviously, playing Bob Dylans, “I Shall be Released.” ♪ Any day now ♪ ♪ Any way now ♪ ♪ I shall be released ♪ ♪ Standing next to me ♪ ♪ In this lonely crowd ♪ ♪ Is a man who swears he’s not to blame ♪ ♪ All day long I hear him crying so loud ♪ ♪ Crying out that he was framed ♪ ♪ They say every man needs protection ♪ ♪ They say that every man must fall ♪ ♪ So I swear I see my reflection ♪ ♪ Somewhere inside these walls ♪ ♪ I see my light come shining ♪ ♪ From the west down to the east ♪ ♪ Any day now, any day now now ♪ ♪ Any where, any where now ♪ ♪ I shall be released ♪

If you can freeze it there, please. Thanks, so I wanted to show this because this is obviously, much later in her career, very close relationship with Mandela. But let’s look at her ability. She’s singing Bob Dylan’s song, the great iconic song, “I Shall be Released,” with Nina Simone. Let’s think of the stratosphere that she has reached in a global context, you know, but choosing this song to sing, she could choose so many others, but it’s Dylan’s, so many fascinating connections through her remarkable life, you know, in terms of, well, so many cultures, religions, peoples all over. Okay, the next one I want to play is a little bit with her. Paul Simon, she did tours with him as well, “Under African Skies.” If we can play that, please.

♪ Joseph’s face was black as night ♪ ♪ The pale yellow moon shone in his eyes ♪ ♪ His path was marked ♪ ♪ By the stars in the Southern Hemisphere ♪ ♪ And he walked his days ♪ ♪ Under African skies ♪ ♪ This is the story of how we begin to remember ♪ ♪ This is the powerful pulsing ♪ ♪ Of love in the vein ♪ ♪ After the dream of falling and calling ♪ ♪ Your name out ♪ ♪ These are the roots of rhythm ♪ ♪ And the roots of rhythm remain ♪ ♪ In early memory ♪ ♪ Sounds of music were ringing ♪ ♪ Round my grandmother’s door ♪ ♪ I said, take this child ♪ ♪ From the township of Mofolo ♪ ♪ Give her the wings to fly through harmony ♪ ♪ She won’t bother you no more ♪ ♪ This is the story of how we begin to remember ♪ ♪ This is the powerful pulsing ♪ ♪ Of love in the vein ♪ ♪ After the dream of falling and calling ♪ ♪ Your name out ♪ ♪ These are the roots of rhythm ♪ ♪ And the roots of rhythm remain ♪

Okay, if we can hold it there, please. So let’s look at this trajectory. Playing Dylan’s song, singing with Paul Simon on his church, being with Harry Belafonte, Stokely Carmichael, the South Africans, Hugh Masekela, being married, et cetera, and others, meeting Martin Luther King. But to so many of such a range of individuals who have such a massive influence of the 20th century, and of course, the musicians, you know, whatever race, whatever religion, she’s able to move and transcend because in the end, it’s the music. Let’s call it, jazz or variations of jazz music that comes through this remarkable character. I think she was one of the most remarkable human beings that came out of South Africa and Africa. So many others, Nina, Simone, Ray Charles, Dizzy Gillespie, she works with all of them, friendly with Brando, the list can go on, okay. And I know I’m possibly romanticising and getting a bit carried away, but I really do believe from such tender beginnings and being thrown into exile and what she has achieved, you know, worthy of much more than just being called, “Mama Africa.” Okay, I’m going to go onto a very different kind of person. And this is a guy who I love his music, I’m just going to play you one or two little clips, Vusi Mahlasela, and he’s from Pretoria originally, he’s almost regarded as a kind of African folk singer with elements of township and elements of jazz inside, but is such a beautiful, gentle soul that comes through it like we get in some of the great folk singers of the world. And I want to include this, not strictly jazz, but you can get a sense of that improvisational quality inside it. And a bit of that spirit of resistance and exile spirit that I spoke about before. Okay, this is one of the early pieces of his. And if we can play it, please. Sorry, that’s a picture of him and then this is him here, this is a song about exile. Living in exile.

• That we must give something to the world, not just take from it. ♪ This is the ♪ ♪ Unknown grave ♪ ♪ The one ♪ ♪ Who died maintaining his might ♪ ♪ His will being so strong ♪ ♪ And musically inclined ♪ ♪ His sad melodies ♪ ♪ Coming out like smoke from the wood fire ♪ ♪ Confessing ♪ ♪ Who died last night ♪ ♪ Who died this morning ♪ ♪ And why ♪ ♪ One dangerous 94 million graves ♪ ♪ Looked down into the grave ♪ ♪ And did not weep ♪ ♪ Skeleton upon confessing ♪ ♪ And did not often music ♪ ♪ A culture and belief ♪ ♪ Skeleton upon confessing ♪ ♪ The age of limitations ♪ ♪ The age of broken minds and souls ♪ ♪ I picked up the soil ♪ ♪ From this unknown grave ♪ ♪ And blew it upward the wind ♪ ♪ As to make reference one day ♪ ♪ And I sang ♪ ♪ Sing now Africa ♪ ♪ Sing loud ♪ ♪ Sing to the people ♪ ♪ Let them give something to the world ♪ ♪ And not just take from it ♪ ♪ And we’ll ring the bells when you come back ♪ ♪ We’ll beat the drums when you come back ♪ ♪ We’ll ring the bells when you come back ♪ ♪ We’ll beat the drums when you come back ♪ ♪ We’ll ring the bells when you come back ♪ ♪ We’ll beat the drums when you come back ♪ ♪ We’ll ring the bells when you come back ♪ ♪ We’ll beat the drums when you come back ♪ ♪ Our lost African music ♪ ♪ Will turn into the music of the people ♪ ♪ Yes, the people’s music ♪ ♪ For the people’s culture ♪ ♪ And I’ll be the one who’ll climb up the mountain ♪ ♪ Reaching for the top of our Africa days ♪ ♪ While the poor women working for the lazy ♪ ♪ Lord sing ♪ ♪ Africa sing ♪ ♪ Africa sing ♪ ♪ Africa sing ♪ ♪ Africa sing ♪ ♪ Sing sing Africa ♪ ♪ Sing sing Africa ♪ ♪ Let them salute you ♪ ♪ For the memories beyond ♪ ♪ From the people’s minds and souls ♪

Okay, if we could hold it there, please. You know, I think, Vusi… my God, Mahlasela, my tongue trips over. I think he’s one of the most unique talents to have come out of South Africa. Obviously, there’s folk, African folk, but it’s got African flavours. Some township, there’s some jazz inside. You can pick up where he’s improvising classic jazz, you know, approach and where he’s not improvising and that ability with that voice like Miriam Makeba, but just to create such a feeling of beautiful soul, which isn’t just naive or sentimental. You know, there’s something that goes much deeper for me inside what he does. It’s such a sense of a combination of musical styles. Obviously, rooted in a kind of folk in an African context. The next song I want to play, the second one of his, where he sang with Josh Groban, I’m sure many know, the wonderful young American singer. And this is a song called, “Weeping,” by Bright Blue and they were a group of a couple of Jewish guys and others in Cape Town. And they speak to my generation completely. Their song became our anthem for those white guys who had to go to the white South African Army for quite a few years in those days, which, you know, a lot of us had to do. And they wrote the song during that, in the late 80s you know, as the apartheid was beginning to crumble, but violently crumble, the terrible times during the state of emergency when we were in the Army. And this is Vusi and Josh Groban singing that song that they wrote all those years ago, “Weeping,” in a much more contemporary context. Okay, if we can play the next clip, please.

• Places, you know, just going back to Africa.

• Oh, sorry, if we can skip this, we’ll go to the next one.

• I would like to tell you just a second about this song that I’m about to sing. This is a song, one of the greatest experiences as Billie Jean King was kind enough to mention was being able to meet Mr. Mandela for the first time during my career. And it was in South Africa about four years ago. And while I was there, I did a number of things that have changed my life forever. One of the things that I really enjoyed doing there was finding new music and enjoying the amazing artistry that comes from that country. And this was a song that I found that was written about the end of apartheid. It was written about appreciating and understanding our common humanity through times of conflict and political differences, religious differences, what have you. And as important as that song has always been in that country, it’s a song that in some ways unfortunately, is still very relevant in the world we live in today. And so it was a song that I felt would be very appropriate to do tonight. And I’d like to invite my very good friend who recorded this with me on my album to join me. He’s just such a tremendous talent and amazing spirit and he’s here from South Africa. Please help me welcome my friend, Vusi Mahlasela.

♪ I knew a man ♪ ♪ Who lived in fear ♪ ♪ It was huge, it was angry ♪ ♪ It was drawing near ♪ ♪ Behind his house ♪ ♪ A secret place ♪ ♪ Was the shadow of a demon he could never face ♪ ♪ He built a wall of steel and flame ♪ ♪ And men with guns to keep it tame ♪ ♪ And standing back ♪ ♪ He made it plain ♪ ♪ That the nightmare would never, ever rise again ♪ ♪ But the fear and the fire and the guns remain ♪ ♪ It doesn’t matter now ♪ ♪ It’s over anyhow ♪ ♪ He tells the world that it’s sleeping ♪ ♪ But as the night came 'round ♪ ♪ I heard its lonely sound ♪ ♪ It wasn’t roaring, it was weeping ♪ ♪ It wasn’t roaring, it was weeping ♪ And if we can hold it there, please.

Thanks Georgia. Now, I want to play the original by Bright Blue written in the 80s. And it was written by the keyboardist, Dan Heymann with Peter Cohen, his brother, Ian Cohen, Jewish, of course, Robin Levetan, et cetera. And this has become probably one of the great songs that came out of South Africa, not only for whites, but as you can see, played by Vusi and many others, Drakensberg Boys Choir all over. I think it’s a quite remarkable piece and they of course, it’s got personal connection to I suppose quite a lot of us. And “Weeping,” and this is the original. If you can play the next clip, please.

♪ I knew a man who lived in fear ♪ ♪ It was huge, it was angry ♪ ♪ It was drawing near ♪ ♪ Behind his house, a secret place ♪ ♪ Was the shadow of the demon ♪ ♪ He could never face ♪ ♪ He built a wall ♪ ♪ Of steel and flame ♪ ♪ And men with guns ♪ ♪ To keep it tame ♪ ♪ And standing back, he made it plain ♪ ♪ That the nightmare would never, ever rise again ♪ ♪ But the fear and the fire ♪ ♪ And the guns remain ♪ ♪ It doesn’t matter now, it’s over anyhow ♪ ♪ He tells the world that it’s sleeping ♪ ♪ But as the night came 'round ♪ ♪ I heard its lonely sound ♪ ♪ It wasn’t roaring, it was weeping ♪ ♪ It wasn’t roaring, it was weeping ♪ You see, it was sax. Sorry, you can go on. Sorry, please carry on where it was. Thanks. ♪ And then one day ♪ ♪ The neighbours came ♪ ♪ They were curious to know ♪ ♪ About the smoke and flame ♪ ♪ They stood around, outside the wall ♪ ♪ But of course, there was nothing ♪ ♪ To be heard at all ♪ ♪ “My friends”, he said ♪ ♪ “We’ve reached our goal ♪ ♪ The threat is under firm control ♪ ♪ As long as peace and order reign ♪ ♪ I’ll be damned if I can see no reason to explain ♪ ♪ Why the fear and the fire and the guns remain.” ♪ ♪ It doesn’t matter now, it’s over anyhow ♪ ♪ He tells the world that it’s sleeping ♪ ♪ But as the night came 'round ♪ ♪ I heard its lonely sound ♪ ♪ It wasn’t roaring, it was weeping ♪ ♪ It wasn’t roaring, it was weeping ♪ ♪ Say ah, say ah ♪ ♪ Say ah, ah, ah ♪ ♪ Say ah, say ah, say ah ♪ ♪ Say ah, say ah, say ah ♪ ♪ It doesn’t matter now, it’s over anyhow ♪ ♪ He tells the world that it’s sleeping ♪ ♪ But as the night came 'round ♪ ♪ I heard its lonely sound ♪ ♪ It wasn’t roaring, it was weeping ♪ ♪ It wasn’t roaring, it was weeping ♪ ♪ It wasn’t roaring, it was weeping. ♪

Thanks Georgia, you can freeze it. What I love, there’s folk, there’s rock, inside it, is a covertly political message, of course. And there’s the sax, which is playing in that jazz way, it’s got riffs of “Nkosi Sikelel'i” inside it, which were not allowed at the time, but was thrown in. A couple of Jewish guys from Cape Town, create the band, Bright Blue and are able to combine it in this way. I think one of the great songs and of course, it’s personal 'cause it speaks to my white army generation, I guess, and very powerfully so. Okay, last two little clips I’m going to play, the one by Hugh Masekela. And I’ve mentioned him a lot, regarded as almost one of the fathers of South African jazz, the trumpeter, quite a young age when he arrived in exile with Miriam Makeba, Louis Armstrong, sent him a trumpet as a gift. They arrived of course, 'cause they played in, she sang and he played in “King Kong” and this really catapulted him into international fame. So the next one is Hugh Masakela, play it please. That’s a picture of Hugh.

♪ No woman, no cry ♪ ♪ No woman, no cry ♪ ♪ No woman, no cry ♪ ♪ No woman, no cry ♪ ♪ No woman, no cry ♪ ♪ No woman, no cry ♪ ♪ No woman, no cry ♪ ♪ No woman, no cry ♪ ♪ No woman, no cry ♪ ♪ No woman, no cry ♪ ♪ No woman, no cry ♪ ♪ No woman, no cry ♪ ♪ My junior brother is in John Foster square ♪ ♪ They say he preached revolution ♪ ♪ My older brother is in Robin Island ♪ ♪ They say he talking about Communism ♪ ♪ There’s going to be a raid tonight ♪ ♪ The commando is come to Gaborone ♪

If you can hold it there, please. Thanks, I wanted to just give a surprising little few moments of Hugh Masakela adapting the great Bob Marley, obviously, “No Woman, No Cry,” but putting it in with an African feel, there’s a more gritty feel, and he’s playing with jazz riffs. I don’t have time to analyse it now, but you can feel it inside. In a sense of the world that he’s embracing, coming from the background that he does and seeing and discovering and able to absorb all these musical influences, which is, I think one of the marks of Sudi great artists. Okay, we go onto the next one, please. Little bit more. There’s a little bit more of Hugh Masakela, and then I’m going to play, Abdullah, “Mannenberg.” Thanks, you can hold it there. So we can feel what he’s doing with the African roots of the township roots. Obviously, African-American, black American jazz, you know, putting it all together with the trumpet, one of his more mature, I think superb pieces from Hugh Masakela, all inside it. Just a couple of quick notes about him. He and others were helped by Yahudi Nuen. We all know him as well, sort of give a sense of who these people are mixing with and working with throughout the world in a way.

He also went on the tour that I showed Miriam Makeba with Paul Simon on the “Graceland,” you know, tour, which as we all know was so huge, embracing another whole cultural world. The last piece I want to play is one of the great pieces to come out of Cape Town of Dollar brand who then became known as, Abdullah Ibrahim and his piece, “Manenberg,” which I think still stuns all these decades later, jazz, thanks. Thanks, we can fade it there. Thanks Georgia. So this is to give you a little taste from David playing DJ, which is a childhood little dream. But to give a little taste of some of the great South African jazz, I think of such a range in variation, some of it more just elements in Rockland folk songs, others vice versa. For me, some of the best that came out of the country and so continue to inspire. I think ultimately, yes, there was resistance, of course, against injustice, which is underlying covertly everything, but in the end, it’s the sheer beauty and brilliance of the music I think that transcends and can speak over decades and changes in political, historical times, the music. Okay, thank you very much. So if we can go to questions.

Q&A and Comments:

Rhonda Heitz, ah, very Happy Mother’s Day. Yes, thank you. Thanks for that, Rhonda. And may I wish every person and every mother of course, Happy Mother’s Day and as you say, to be cherished and loved. And the mothers in Israel who are hurting so much, yes, and hostages, thank you. Okay, thanks.

As Judy. And Judy, total jazz junkie, well, I’m a jazz and a rock and a folk and a blues junkie and a lot of classical music as well.

Yeah, Romaine, thank you.

It’s Madeleine. Oh, okay, could see me up in the corner. Okay, thanks.

Rhonda, thanks again. Okay, thanks for that, it’s a great joke, Rhonda.

Gita, oh, okay. All right, we’ll fix it up from the top of your screen, I appreciate We saw in her in Paris, wonderful singer, yep. Arthur, thank you, very kind.

Paula, saw Mirian Makeba and Harry Belafonte on tour, yeah, as you call, “The Click Song,” and they’re the ones who played for President Kennedy as well. Gita, thanks.

Rita, it’s her voice, exactly, it’s her voice.

Q: John, what is the source of Miriam Makeba’s Hebrew?

A: If you want to email me and I can send you the link, email with pleasure, you get my email address through the general lockdown address and they’ll pass you on to me. Okay, with pleasure.

Jana, in '62, '63, she toured American colleges and universities, great. Bernard, last year she agreed to wear that dress to sing, “Pata Pata.” Yeah, got to remember the age, I think, in the period, the period that it was done.

Rhonda, ah, that’s great music for me. Great music, always uplifts, you know, great music, great poetry, great literature for me, always uplifts and takes us to another world. And as you say, for start of a Mother’s Day weekend. Great point.

Denise. Hi. And Denise, thank you for that amazing email you sent me. Denise was so fantastic to interact with everybody here on lockdown. Denise sent me an email written by current students at Columbia University and it is superb and moving and just beautifully and brilliantly insightful, strong and well written. You know, if you would like to share it, Denise, that’d be great. Or I can share it if you like.

Miriam Makeba had a first recording, ah, “The Click Song,” which you learned. Okay, great. And yeah, okay. Tula Tula Baba, exactly, those memories come way back.

Okay, Denise, thank you. Who did the “King Kong” production? No, it was, well it was Todd Matshikiza wrote it and then some others came in. And with the producers, it’s just slipped my mind for the moment. I’ll get it for you. If you email me, I’ll check it again. It’s okay. USA spoke some in some Zulu growing up. Oh, okay, only knew a few words, but not much in both. It’s great, Denise.

Carol, she’s ability to bring Africa to the music. Yeah, it sounds a cliche, but it’s true, it’s soul. Okay, it’s great Carol. If you’re related to Babs in Salisbury, that’s where my father’s from, my father’s from EO.

Rita, it clicks on. It’s just the sound of the clicks in Xhosa, and Zulu. You know, it’s just part of the, the syllables, it’s part of the language in, in the sounds, Denise. It’s the click with a tongue, the many Lang African languages you. Yeah. Great. Thank you Roma. Great. Thank you. And M to you and everybody.

Bernard, no mention of Abdullah Ibrahim. Yeah, well I wanted to keep him for the end, Bernard. Of course Manenberg is the great, great jazz song of them all.

Monica, nostalgia. It is nostalgia. I agree.

Stuart, thank you Rita. Thank you very much. You’re all very kind Josie who knows how to find songs of migration. Ah, sip Kamala, I was quite friendly with Sip as well and knew her husband pretty well. But yeah, I’m sure if you have any problems, you know, just email. I’m sure we can find it as well, Denise to help out.

Oh, there. Okay. Or Spike Stanley Glasser musical director. That’s right. He was the musical director of the original King Club and Kipi Moi. Yeah, I know I wanted to really include Kipi, but you know, when has to choose in the end, there’s a lot of others I wanted to choose as well. Some contemporary ones. Huge influence.

Monica, the Wall of Steel, that’s a song by the group, bright Blue that I mentioned from Cape Town and it’s called Weeping the Song and oh Monica Thanks in pmi. And it was written during those viciously, harsh, cruel, terrible times of apartheid state of emergency with all of apartheid was cruel, terrible in and unbearably vicious. And it was such a strong for some, you know, yeah. For I think many people. And the fact it was taken up by WSI and others, y you know, in South Africa and elsewhere is very powerful to me.

Rose. Okay, thanks. Yeah, Barry. Oh, thank you very much.

It’s kind Myrna, I think the recorded version, this will all be on lockdown I’m sure in the next day or two. If you go to the website and you’ll find it in the website in the links. Dorothy, thank you. I do love playing DJ Linda, see him playing Boston. Yeah. Grazing in the Grass. Fantastic song of his. I agree. And I, yeah. Need more time and I’d love to just have a whole, we could just the whole session hug of on on, on Maria Maba. We could have three, four more, you know, and, and many others.

Ki you know, Jonas and many others. Ethel. Thank you Arthur.

Yeah. Big time with Grazing in the Grass. I think it sold about 4 million copies in America in 68. Huge Linda. Yeah. Former in Boston Grazing in the Grass. Yep.

Ivan, my dear friend Ian Bernard gave many musicians their first instruments.

Tony Scott. Oh yeah. Great.

Thank you Nina. So looking for Sugarman Elliot. Yeah, I was going to play Sugarman, but I thought this is about South African musicians, so I really wanted to focus on that. You know, Rodriguez is brilliant and I love it, but it was a desire to foc and, and the influence he had and certain people at the time was powerful, very powerful. But I wanted to focus on those who were, I suppose, homegrown South African for today.

Thank you Abe, Sheila, it’s all very kind.

Develop brand Abdulah Abraham. Yeah, at UCT. I mean these are two of the greats in the world. Abdulah Ibrahim, brilliant. Manenberg is just, top of Mount Everest for us.

Hugh Masakela, absolutely. Yana, thank you.

Jeanette, you saw King Kong. That’s great. The original.

Leah. Thank you Bill. Are you all very kind.

The folk dance that went with “Pata Pata,” yes. Oh, you taught in school classes, great.

Bernard Gas is playing jazz gigs in London.

Okay, Esther? No, no. I mean African white Jews had to go to the Army as anybody else. I had to, well that’s another long story of all the threats and things that I refused to do in the Army and the consequences of my refusals to do a lot of things in the Army. But that’s for another whole long time, okay. And my work at the market theatre, refusing to do things, but other things as well. But that’s for another long time as well. I forget the one night we were shot at. Okay, right.

So thank you very much everybody, and really appreciate and Georgia, thank you. And tomorrow I see everybody for Trevor Noah, we’re a completely different world of satire and contemporary comedy. Hope you have a great Mother’s day and rest of the weekend. Everybody everywhere, take care.