Here's an entire book devoted to the all too often overlooked Latin instrument, the bongo drums. Trevor Salloum guides you on an inspired informative, and educational musical journey; offering many valuable insights of playing this instrument as well as revealing its colorful history. This text features jazz, rock, Danzon, Mozambique, and bomba patterns with fills, exercises, and performance techniques to get you going in these styles. Maintenance, characteristic rhythmic patterns, and important artists in the evolution of bongo technique are also covered in depth. The companion CD features recordings of the rhythm patterns discussed in the book.
Customer Review: Bongo Book
Serves its purpose well. It is the thinnist book I've ever seen, but hey it's about music. WHat more can you say. It isn't really worth the money. Get the CDs over this I recommend videos over both.
Customer Review: Not For Beginners!
The item description doesn't say that this book is for beginners. But based on the reviews I read it seemed like a good book for beginners. That was a horrific assumption. I don't blame the publisher for this, I blame other reviewers who lead readers to believe this is a good book for beginners. From the beginning this book uses all kinds of terminology that I've never heard of before (and I have played some keyboard, drums and guitar). Which leads me to wonder who this book is for because, in my opinion, anyone who can understand the terminology probably has no use for such a book. I do fault the publisher for the terribly exposed, grainy photographs. I also fault the publisher for allowing several interviews with bongo players which, in my opinion, do not belong in a book like this. The whole book just feels cheap as if it was quickly thrown together. As an absolute beginner what I would have liked to see is a more detailed explanation of technique along with photos (this book has a few photos, but most of them look the same, and the photos do not correlate with the techniques described in the text). I would also have liked to see more description of how to read the notation used in the book. And while I understand musical timing due to my previous experience an absolute beginner will have no clue as to what tempo the notes should be played, this is not described anywhere in the book. This is a very poorly executed and frustrating book about bongos. It borders on useless for a true beginner. If you are a beginning bongo player do not buy this book it will not help you learn to play the bongos and will give you nothing but frustration. I have no idea how a book like this ever made it to print.
It may be that in musical retrospect, from a luxury of twenty-twenty critical hindsight, that Astor Piazzolla will be seen as having done in the twentieth century for the tango what Frederick Chopin did in the nineteenth for the waltz. It is perhaps already an accepted position. With the waltz, Chopin took an established popular form and stretched its boundaries so that what an audience might have expected to be a little ditty was recast to express heroism, sensuality, pride or even occasional doubt. The little dance tune then, in Chopin's slender hands, became an elegant art form, highly expressive, utterly Romantic in its ability to convey human emotion.
The tango represents an apparently different proposition. Already sensuous by definition, there are elements of the romantic towards which the tango need not aspire. If Romanticism placed individual emotional responses upon the pedestal of artistic expression, by the time the tango aspired to truly international currency in the twentieth century, there was no longer any need to worry about an artist's right to make a personal statement.
With the rise of serialism, neo-classicism and, later, minimalism, artistic mores were already, perhaps, heading in the opposite direction, towards a new espousal of rigour and structure. Emotion worn on the cuffs, like concepts plucked from the back of a matchbox, seemed to dominate cultural activities in the latter part of the century whilst, at the same time, Althusser and Derrida, allied with the populism of mass culture, seemed to suggest that there were no new statements, let alone discoveries, to be made. A spectral free-for-all ruled, where distinctions of quality were suddenly both particularistic and individual to the point of exclusion. (This, of course, is necessarily a paradox for people promoting a populist pop culture, since they aspire to mass consumption of a single artistic vision, a statement that by definition cannot be worth more than any other - even randomly selected statement. As a result, those who tend to deny a critic's right to make value judgments must themselves assume that such judgments are perfectly valid in the marketplace. It's a contradictory position, but an essential one for purveyors of pop, since they must continue to describe the form as popular, despite the fact that the vast majority of its products prove themselves to be anything but.) Post-modernists thus hailed the soap opera alongside Shakespeare, a logic that renders a Coca Cola advertisement the greatest film ever made by virtue of its viewer numbers. And then there was Piazzolla, an enigma par excellence.
On the one hand Astor Piazzolla is the quintessential mid-twentieth century composer. Classically trained, a pupil of Alberto Ginastera and Nadia Boulanger, and inspired by the commercial and folk music of his own country, he could have slotted alongside Villa Lobos, Ponce, or even Martinu or Copeland as a contributor to the century's neo-classical-folk music paradigm. But what he did was quite different.
He devoted his compositional energies to recreating and reinventing a popular idiom that was thoroughly specific to his own country, Argentina. The form, of course, was the tango. What is more, Astor Piazzolla concentrated on performance via his own ensembles and he achieved considerable success, albeit local until near the end of his life, over a career that spanned fifty years. But he expressed himself on the bandoneon, a squeezebox that lends itself to staccato, slapping attack, an instrument not peculiar to Argentina, but perhaps only well known to Argentinians. He died in 1992, his Romantic heroism national at best.
It was in the early 1990s that arrangements of Piazzolla's music began to appear on "classical" programmes. By the time a figure as august as Daniel Barenboim recorded his Tangos Among Friends, Mi Buenos Aires Querido, in 1995, they were already becoming established in the repertoire. I personally have heard performances of Piazzolla's music for full orchestra, string orchestra, chamber orchestra, various formats of chamber ensemble, piano trio, solo piano, solo harp, flute and guitar, guitar solo, violin and piano, string quartet, string trio and, of course, bandoneon. But it is surely the chamber group that best fits this music. There is always a toughness to its apparent sensuality that tends to be overstated by the large numbers of a full orchestra. Lack of volume, on the other hand, tends to stress the saccharine.
And if you want to find an exquisite match between the music's toughness and sensuality, its durability versus its novelty, there is surely no better experience than that provided by Camerata Virtuosi, a septet led by violinist Joaquin Palomares and featuring saxophonist Claude Delangle. Their recording of Piazzolla's music features Joaquin Palomares' superb arrangements that capture the music's directness and beauty while preserving its toughness.
A Camerata Virtuosi performance in the Auditori de la Mediterrnia, La Nucia in February 2008 featured all the pieces included in their recording of Piazzolla's music. The group performed all four of the Seasons as a sextet with two violins, viola, cello, bass and piano. These pieces offer Joaquin Palomares a perfect vehicle to display his virtuoso violin playing which communicates the music's line whilst at the same time decorates with highly effective jazz-like riffs. The rest of the pieces were performed by a septet in which Claude Delangle's perfect soprano saxophone bent and teased its way through lambent legato lines. It was playing of the highest quality.
As on the recording, particularly successful were Oblivion and Milonga del Angel. Oblivion is the quintessential Piazzolla, a popular sing-along for the manic depressive perhaps, and not therefore a rarity. But the simplicity and understatement of the piece always works beautifully, even when played twice in the same concert, as in La Nucia. Milonga del Angel is a different kind of piece. Though superficially similar to Oblivion, it manages in its six minutes to develop through its binary form, so that different movements create different moods within the same material. A true highlight.
Joaquim Palomares' violin playing was, as always, more than elegant throughout and by the end the audience had experienced again the genius of Piazzolla courtesy of Palomares' superb arrangements. Great music needs great interpreters, and Piazzolla's has surely found one in Joaquin Palomares.
Philip Spires
Author of Mission, an African novel set in Kenya
http://www.philipspires.co.uk
Michael, a missionary priest, has just killed Munyasya. It was an accident, but Mulonzya, a politician, exploits the tragedy for his own ends. Boniface, a church worker, has just lost his child. He did not make it to the hospital in time, possibly because Michael went to the Mission to retrieve a letter from Janet, a teacher, and the priest's neighbour. It is Munyasya who has the last laugh, however.
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