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NEUNENEU
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to purchase by cheque for £13 (payable to JP Freeman) send to: JP Freeman, 21 Montagu Sq, London, W1H 2LF, UK (please confirm by email ravikora5@googlemail.com)
for bookings contact WORLD FUSION: tel/text 07711 265011 (UK) email: ravikora5@googlemail.com
NEUNENEU featuring MARLUI MIRANDA and RAVI 07 TOUR RIVENSTONE FESTIVAL, DARTMOOR Cardiff Harbour Festival, Cardiff Bay 27th AUG GONG FESTIVAL, TURIN, ITALY 28th AUG Rhodes Arts Complex (exhibition, workshop, concert) Whitby Music Port The Red Hedgehog, North London WOMEX, SEVILLE, SPAIN 24th-27th OCT view concert footage of the NEUNENEU duo (includes interview with Marlui Miranda)
REVIEW OF NEUNENEU BY SONGLINES MAGAZINE Marlui Miranda and Ravi This must be the only fusion of Brazilian indigenous and West African kora music ever to have been reviewed in Songlines. Those who have explored the far corners of the Brazilian catalogue, out beyond Egberto Gismonti and Nana Vasconcelos, may have come across Marlui Miranda. For the past few decades - in between playing with Gilberto Gil and Rodolfer Streter - she has been wandering through central Brazil and the Amazon like a latter-day latin Vaughan Williams. collecting indigenous songs, arranging them and recording them, often with tribal people themselves. Her " Ihu - Todos os sons" is a masterpiece. And were it not for her work, few would realise that Brazil's musicality is as much an indigenous trait as it is imported from Portugal and Africa. Alex Robinson
Marlui Miranda, RAVI, Kamluhare and Aparita at their BBC Radio 3 IN TUNE session on 4th July
first flight for the Mehenaku, from Sao Paolo to London 26th June PRESS ARTICLES
Brazil's Mehinaku are threatened by pollution and hydroelectric dams. The Enawene Nawe are fighting ranchers and soya growers devastating land in Mato Grosso. Here, the Amazonian tribal people speak out Kamalurre Mehinaku We are very, very worried because now a hydroelectric dam is being built on the Culuene river. Building has already started. I went to Brasilia to protest. All the indigenous peoples of the Xingu went to demonstrate there, and they told us they can't stop the dam. They keep on building. We went to the dam site to protest and they stopped work, but as soon as we left they started again. They don't care about us. When we go to see what is happening they don't want to know. So we need help. We have to fight for a better life. We don't want that dam. We want to preserve our land. We have to show people not to pollute the water, not to kill animals and not to throw poison in the rivers. Kawari Enawene Nawe
From The Independant 17th July 2006 The term "world music" was invented for nights like this. Aside from Ravi's virtuoso kora playing and Marlui Miranda's passionate interpretation of Brazilian Indian music, this UK tour is to showcase the spirit dance and chanting of the Amazonian Mehinaku tribe, five of whom are here tonight, performing in the the UK for the first time. The European tour June/July 2006
NEUNENEU performing July 06
Jul 7 Haverhill Arts Centre, Suffolk ; Jul 8 The Gallery, Caenarfon, Wales; Jul 9 Quest Festival, Devon; Newport, Pembrokeshire; July 13th Queen Elizabeth Hall, London; Jul 14 South Hill Park, Bracknell; Jul 15 Rhythms of the World, Hitchin;
I'm gonna eat grandfather crocodile' by Pascal Wyse They are called the Mehinako tribe and they are heading this way. Pascal Wyse travels to Brazil for a preview of their mysterious music Friday June 30, 2006 The Guardian "Yanuno has 22 grandchildren," says Marlui Miranda, the Brazilian academic, composer and singer who is bringing this group of Mehinako (a tribe currently numbering 300) across the Atlantic next week, and who, with kora player Ravi, will be performing with them. The following morning the Mehinako, Ravi and Marlui rehearse the show. At the front of the stage, carved wooden birds protect the space from the spirits. Ravi and Marlui are wearing painted outfits inspired by the tribe's costumes, and make-up not a million miles away from Kiss. The tribe members have coloured wraps around their joints, headgear with toucan feathers and various other sticks and skirts. One of Yanuno's sons bears a circular black target on his chest, indicating that he is a local wrestling champion. Given all of that interesting stuff, it seems odd that they are keen to film me, but two video cameras are quickly turned my way. "It is very important to have a good story to tell the village," says Marlui. "That's why they are always filming whatever they want to learn about - people, food, whatever. Back home they have a 34-inch television to watch the videos. But they don't like to see other people's movies - they only watch their own." The show they are bringing to the UK is called Neuneneu (Humanity). It alternates indigenous songs from Brazil (sung by Marlui and accompanied by Ravi on kora and percussion) with performances by the Mehinako. "Some of the songs have a kind of mantric quality, where certain pitches are repeated," says Marlui. "The kora can be a mantric instrument. It fits with my feeling about how to treat these indigenous songs. They have to be light and simple, not heavy and ambitious. It is symbolic of how we approach and touch this issue of indigenous music." "I have always felt a strong affinity with indigenous music," says Ravi. "It is like going to the source. On paper it doesn't look as if it should work - indigenous music, Marlui, and me on kora. But fusion has always happened in music." As Marlui finishes one song (which includes the line "I'm gonna eat grandfather crocodile"), the Mehinako take the stage. Sometimes the sound is ominous, chanting with stamping feet and bird shrieks, at others more intricate and light. Before a piece, they synchronise their internal watches by "huffing" together, like an engine coughing to life, as they advance and retreat on the stage, bells jangling on one foot. Quietly, they play on miniature panpipes, each with one pitch, sharing the tune out. Then they are flapping grass wings like birds, as part of a burial ritual. Every piece ends with them applauding themselves shouting: "Auch bai! Auch bai!" (Happiness). Sometimes it sounds fragmentary and incomplete. But it helps to remember the context. Kamalurre, another of the performers from the tribe, explains to me that the "yaupe" ritual that they perform is longer in real life. Two weeks long, in fact - and that's just a warm-up; some of their rituals can take months. "When someone falls sick, the shaman smokes the sacred cigarette and he passes out," says Kamalurre. "While he is passed out he sees which spirit is making the person sick. And if it is one of the 'yaupe', he talks to it and says we are going to do a ceremony for you, so you will stop making the person ill. The yaupe represents the sickness, and everybody works with their energy to heal." There are parts of the show that must not be described in print. Even writing the name of the instrument used in one of the pieces would be a grave offence. Miranda double-checks this with Kamalurre, but he is quite firm. "The music of the Mehinako is different from the other tribes in Brazil," says Marlui. "They have preserved much more of their traditional ceremonies and repertoire. Their culture is totally devoted to music; the people who deal with the ceremonies have to be good musicians - and they practise a lot."
It is so tied to everyday life, you can't help but wonder if it feels strange for the Mehinako to have people watch them on stage - like a world music edition of Big Brother? "Their life is always under surveillance from the outside, so they are used to defending their identity," says Marlui. "That is the important question for them: to whom do I show my identity? Who do I trust? They understand well what they are doing - but they are not in a kind of zoo. We will be playing where the audience will respect them. And they are managing this for their own interests. But their real identities they keep in the village - they just show a little fraction here." There is another purpose to the trip. Their village is in Mato Grosso, which is governed by Blairo Maggi, Brazil's "soya king". Soya production is responsible for huge amounts of deforestation. "Behind indigenous people in Brazil there is always exploitation," says Marlui. "The Mehinako are angry that the Xingu river, a biological sanctuary that they have lived on for centuries, is being poisoned. The state governor is building a hydroelectric dam that is against the law." Towards the end of the show, one of the tribe makes a short speech about this, which Miranda translates. The tribe will, says Marlui, miss their village. "This tour will be tough - different food, different hours. They will cross an ocean." She says that ultimately she would like to see the Mehinako totally independent and free to fight for their own ideas and culture. She hopes this tour, and making useful contacts with the outside world will help this process. "It's all about trading. Life is trading," Miranda keeps saying. Ravi was healed for four bags of beads. Songs are valuable commodities too, and what a musician here might call a cover version or an adaptation can, to the Mehinako, be more like an abduction. Musicians are even kidnapped to be robbed of their songs - abusing a kind of oral copyright. I ask Karanai what the words mean to one song, and he just raises his eyebrows and smiles. "He can't tell you that," says Marlui. "What do you have to trade?" But all I have is cash, so Karanai sells me one of the bird carvings from the show instead. "Auch bai!" he says as we exchange. He's got his priorities straight.
From The New Statesman Heart of the Amazon
Peter Culshaw meets the extraordinary composer bringing the music of Brazil's shamans to Europe Marlui Miranda is telling me about taking some of her indigenous Amazonian friends to São Paulo to a performance of Stravinsky quartets. "They loved most of the music, but they could n't understand why no one was dancing. And they kept saying, 'Isn't anyone hungry or thirsty? How can they just sit there for so long?'" As we sit talking in a comfortable São Paulo hotel room, Miranda is full of stories about the Amazonians with whom she has been working for more than 30 years. On her last trip to the jungle, she saw a shaman smash a TV after something offensive appeared on the screen. But the tribesmen love radio. The group she is working with, the Mehinakus, who live in Brazil's Xingu Indigenous Park reservation, have very specific tastes: Madonna is "too noisy", but they enjoy the countryish music of the rubber-tappers and the popular forró of north-eastern Brazil. We know all this largely thanks to Miranda - a singer and musician who, in 1994, was adopted by the Mehinakus as a musical apprentice and daughter of the shaman Karanai Mehinaku. She is also in the front rank of contemporary Brazilian composers and has recorded and toured with Gilberto Gil (who will be appearing in the UK in June; see page 53) as well as Milton Nascimento. Her best-known solo project is the award-winning Ihu: todos os sons (Blue Jackel), which mixes the structures and tonality of Amazonian music with her own sensibility. It sounds like a gorgeous collision between Steve Reich and the world of the indigenous Amazonians. The word ihu, incidentally, is from the Kamayurá language and means "sound . . . all that reaches the ear, including the sound of the spirits and the magical entities of the forest". In Brazil, Miranda is famous for being the foremost performer of Amazonian music, and the only outsider who speaks many of the indigenous languages. She is, therefore, uniquely placed to "translate" the people's little-understood ways of life. While the groups she works with have many, very different cultures (the languages of neighbouring tribes can be as various as Chinese is different from French), they share a distinctive shamanic world-view. "They move easily from the natural to the supernatural world, and each is as real as the other," she explains. "They also have a different idea of time, somehow inhabiting at the same time the present, the past and the future." Miranda feels this very rich, very non-western understanding of the world has been ignored. In July, however, western audiences will have the chance to hear the Mehinakus' music for the first time, as part of a Contemporary Music Network tour. Their performances will mix music - from flute, kora, double bass and drums - with fragments of tribal ritual. The tribespeople, she says, "don't see music as separate from body-painting and dance". The show and the accompanying album are entitled Neuneuneu, a Mehinaku expression that means "human plurality". Yet this is not just entertainment. Part of the purpose of the tour is to highlight the critical problems faced by the Mehinakus: although they now have their own land and their popu lation is increasing, the Xingu River, upon which they depend, is being severely polluted by toxic chemicals used by the soya farmers upstream. Miranda hopes that the group can earn money from cultural productions such as Neu neuneu; she has to deliver royalties to them by hand, however, as none of the tribespeople has a bank account. "The tribe as a whole receives the money, because the music belongs to their tradition and not to a specific person," she explains. Just getting the cash to the Mehinakus' remote home is fraught with difficulty. Often, "if the river is too dry or the boat breaks", Miranda has to postpone trips, and she has had to walk 60 kilometres to reach them. But the journey can offer unexpected delights. Before her first trip to see the tribe, Miranda had heard ethnographic recordings of their music. When her 4x4 got stuck in the mud near the Mehinaku village, she sang one song over and over again. After several hours, the tribespeople appeared. "They had heard me singing and had been hiding for hours listening to me, astonished to hear a white person singing their music," she laughs. Miranda was born in a small city in the Rondônia region of the Amazon Basin, but moved away as a child, reconnecting to the music of the Amazon only as a teenager. The Amazonian impact on Brazilian culture has been complex, she says. "The African influence in our country's mainstream music is more obvious because Africans were closer to the colonists, inside the homes of the white people," she explains. "The Indians were ignored because they could not be enslaved, and were seen as something very primitive and savage. But their influence is deep in Brazil, in the language, the food, the customs, the way the Brazilians are . . . the sweetness." She laughs for a moment and then her open face becomes serious. "Working with them has brought me so much - it is my life now."
"Neuneneu" (HUMANITY) Tour Press Release ‘Neuneneu’ is the Mehinaku (inhabitants of the Central Brazilian Amazon) expression meaning ‘human plurality’. It is a unique concept of these people and goes some way to expressing their particular understanding of humanity and their interaction with the outside world. There is no greater expression of this concept and of their spirituality than through the music generated by these extraordinary people. For this indigenous race, every single sound is considered music – a stone rolling or an arrow cutting the air. Sound is directly related to spirituality. There are no boundaries between real life and music. They are one.. The Brazilian composer, musician and singer Marlui Miranda has devoted her career to the study, research and development and protection of the Brazilian indigenous race. Their culture, spirituality and music – all inextricably linked – have been the focus of Miranda’s work and here for the first time she allows us to enter the world of these fascinating, absorbing people by transporting the focus of her work to the UK. As the most acclaimed and recognised researcher and performer of Brazilian Indian music, Marlui’s work spans the release of award-winning cd’s (Ihi Todos os Sons), tireless fieldwork to preserve, protect and facilitate the music and culture of the Indigenous Peoples of Brazil (for which she was awarded the prestigous National Cultural Merit Medal) to recording and performing with the superstars of Brazilian popular music, Gilberto Gil and Milton Nascimento. A most musical and spiritual journey to the Amazon The odd couple Greenpeace won its battle to stop destruction of the Amazon through soya cultivation, thanks to an unlikely ally - McDonald's John Sauven Last week, some of the world's most powerful companies took a first step towards saving the Amazon rainforest from the ravages of soya cultivation. An unlikely union of Greenpeace, McDonald's and leading UK supermarkets successfully pressured multinational US-based commodities brokers into signing a two-year moratorium on buying soya from newly deforested land in the Amazon.
AN INTERVIEW WITH MARLUI MIRANDA ALSO APPEARED IN THE JUNE 06 ISSUE OF SACRED HOOP MAGAZINE
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