Like all popular music groups, the Jukebox Trio has its own successful formula. Presenting a rich mix of classic covers and original material in an open, friendly, accessible style – with two singers and a human beatbox – it’s hard not to enjoy the experience of seeing them play.

“I don’t know any other a cappella bands with only three people,” says lead singer Vladimir Ivanov. “Usually they have six, but we cut it down to the main things: bass, rhythm and melody. And actually, that’s all you really need in music.” Clever live sampling techniques are also often used to create layered, harmonised soundscapes that give the impression of more voices.

The group formed in 2004, when brothers Vladimir and Ilya Ivanov met Kirill Sharafutdinov at a vocal studio where they learned jazz and funk fundamentals. “We had mutual interests, we were listening to a lot of the same music – Bobby McFerrin, Take 6, Queen, The Beatles. It’s different music but we like it all,” explains Vladimir.

At live shows, this diversity is evident. Re-worked Elvis Presley hits, silky Bossa Nova ballads and sermonising soulful serenades are all on the agenda. The penultimate track on the Trio’s debut album, Acappellipsis, features a list of influential artists: names as varied as Ozzy Ozbourne, John Coltrane, Jimi Hendrix and the Chemical Brothers are recited in comically exaggerated Russian accents.

However, copies of the CD are somewhat hard to come by. “We decided not to sell the album in shops, it’s only available at our concerts,” says Vladimir. Why? “It’s a big problem to make a good production with Russian record labels. They are really down now.” He also cites the mercenary nature of the country’s music industry as something the group wants to avoid. “Radio stations and TV channels play everything just for money, apart from maybe Western musicians – mainstream stuff. If you want to be big in Russia, you have to pay.

“The most important thing with Jukebox Trio is that, at first, it wasn’t for money – simply for pleasure. When we started to earn money with the music, it was a bonus. And that’s still the order of priorities.”

The fickle nature of the scene in their home city, Kazan, was another obstacle the group strove to overcome. “The funny thing about Kazan is that, as it’s the capital of Tatarstan, the Tatar public tend to like mostly Tatar singers. We were like some kind of circus for them. Breaking onto Moscow stages in 2006 was a really big step for us – people started to say we were musicians and not just a circus, we were getting real respect,” says Vladimir.

A subsequent string of gigs around Russia earned Jukebox many fine reviews, as well as a prize from pop heroine Alla Pugacheva and the chance to open Elton John’s show in Rostov-on-Don. They are already writing for a third CD, which will come after an album comprising cover versions of well-known Russian rock songs.

Ilya Ivanov, the Trio’s rhythmic engine, is optimistic about future prospects. “We’re hoping to collaborate with a suitable record label, which can help us produce great albums.” And in the long term, he makes no secret of lofty ambitions: “We want to become famous and be like rock stars all over the world – at least like The Beatles! I want to travel and perform in many different countries. And I think it is really possible, because I believe in the power of music.”

The Jukebox Trio take music down to its basic elements, focusing on the purity and versatility of the human voice – no instruments required. An online video for their song ‘So… Let Me Know’ emphatically illustrates this concept, as the group are shown smashing guitars into splinters at the tune’s climax. Don’t expect that to happen at every show, but, as Vladimir says, “you’ll be put in a good mood”.


Published in The Moscow Times, 9/6/09 - click here for original.

I think I’ve figured it out. There’s something in public health called the “prevention paradox”: measures of disease prevention that offer great benefits to populations at large (such as fluoridation of water sources, wearing seatbelts, lifestyle changes, smallpox vaccinations, etc) offer little benefit or personal incentive to individuals.

But research shows that health education geared toward individuals (counseling on reducing salt intake for hypertension, exercise for diabetes, etc) are less effective when geared only toward individuals and/or used in a short-term approach. People are motivated to act for immediate gain and substantial personal benefits, but “the medical motivation for health education is inherently weak. Their health next year is not likely to be much better if they accept our advice or if they reject it. Much more powerful as motivators for health education are the social rewards of enhanced self-esteem and social approval.” (Geoffrey Rose, Sick Individuals and Sick Populations.)

Physicians also prefer individualized health education because with population interventions (such as anti-smoking campaigns), their success rates are low and results take a long time to achieve.

The US is such an individual-centric society that people have no cultural reason to care about population health as a whole. Most Americans do not see that universal access to healthcare means that problems are detected and treated early (which is less costly), and that sometimes preventive medicine can encourage life-saving behavior change. That the person going into the ER for stomach pain because s/he does not have health insurance is costing the taxpayer literally thousands more dollars than s/he would if s/he’d gone to a primary care physician.

Nor do they understand the concept of herd immunity- if a large proportion of a population is immune to or vaccinated against a particular disease, the likelihood that one individual will get that disease is far less.

The focus on the individual and the apathy toward the well-being of communities and populations is by no means restricted to health alone. The same can be said about the current financial crisis. Individuals who borrowed more than they could pay back, and their unscrupulous lenders have created a global downward spiral of hundreds of economies, with the bottom billion hit the hardest.

I find it ironic and deeply saddening that 30 million more people have been pushed into starvation thus far due to the financial crisis while bankers are taking hefty bonuses and governments are bailing out businesses that were failing even before the crash (GM, Chrysler, etc…)

“I always wanted to be a cosmonaut,” states Fyodor Yurchikhin without hesitation. “When I was a small boy, I jumped from a second floor balcony because I thought I was Gagarin! My father jumped after me, it all happened very fast, and luckily we were both OK.”

Born in January 1959, Yurchikhin grew up during the heyday of the Soviet space programme. Yuri Gagarin’s maiden flight in 1961 held mythical significance: “When we played in our yard, we would pretend to be Russian cosmonauts,” he recounts. “We knew all their names and I can’t tell you how much it meant to us. Gagarin was more than a name. For us, what he did was something like the impossible. He was an icon, a symbol – ‘Wow, Gagarin!’”

Yurchikhin’s face still glows with childlike enthusiasm as he talks, springing up to illustrate the balcony scenario or act out the process of spacewalking. His two missions to the International Space Station, in 2002 and 2007, amount to over 200 days, with nearly 19 hours working in open space.

“My first time on the ISS, the biggest problem was orientation. There’s no gravity, everything is floating around; until you adjust to that, you have to move very slowly, holding onto things.”

“When I first looked down out at the earth, I realised it’s impossible to understand this view from pictures. It’s black of course, but when you get there you see it’s not a normal black – it has infinite depth. I wanted to touch the colours, they are so bright and clear. No photos can convey the beauty of that sight.”

Nevertheless, Yurchikhin keenly uses orbital photography to spread his ideals for the future of humanity. His work has been exhibited around Russia[?]. “The name of my gallery is ‘Our House on Earth,’ because everybody should understand it’s very small. Yes, very big for us, but in reality very small. You need to keep your house clean and beautiful, we need to understand this; otherwise, we may destroy the house. It’s terrible.”

He applies this approach to both environmental and social concerns, as well as international relations. “People need to understand each other. We need to stop settling problems with weapons and war. It’s quite probable there is life on other planets. I think contact could be valuable for both sides if we understand and respect each other. But this doesn’t happen on earth, a planet where people have been living together for thousands of years.”

“I think the international space programme can be used as a model for the future: many different countries, different languages and different levels of technology all working together. America and Russia in particular have very different ways of thinking. For example, there’s an old joke that when the Americans found it was a problem to write in space, they spent a million dollars to invent a special space pen. The Russians used pencils!”

Yurchikhin picks a potent analogy to look at these varying national standards. In the first class at school, children arrive knowing different things. Even if some start off being able to count higher numbers, for example, this doesn’t mean they’ll finish in first place. “I don’t know how we will graduate the ISS school. Russia and America too should understand we are all still in school, we must continue and share knowledge.”

“If we’re doing complex work in a difficult area, like cosmic research, it is very useful to work with others. Views can become clouded. Including different people can bring new perspectives to old problems.”

Looking to the future, Yurchikhin believes the next step is colonisation. “We should go to a planet, build something and live there. The moon should come first, then possibly Mars. We should also continue developing ideas for a new spacecraft.”

On April 12, Russian Cosmonauts’ Day, the Memorial Museum of Cosmonautics opened its refurbished doors in northeast Moscow. It is situated beneath a towering, angular monument with a soaring rocket at the peak. More than 3,000 exhibits include a life-size replica of the space station Mir, Gagarin’s legendary orange spacesuit and all kinds of lunar vehicles – in short, a fascinating stroll through Russian space history.

“It’s a good idea,” says Yurchikhin. “I hope lots of kids will go. I love meeting children who have this dream, just like I did. Maybe now more people will talk about cosmonautics as well – it’s not as popular as it used to be.”

Again emphasising the spirit of unity he so desires, Yurchikhin remains an optimist at heart. “For a while I wanted the Russian space programme to be number one, but perhaps now we should change our minds now. It’s better if our national programme is part of a wider international project. Being first isn’t important. We’re all going to fly into space together.”

“Going to space, every one of us went as a patriot of our own country. But we came back as patriots of our earth.”

RIR Dossier
Fyodor Nikolaevich Yurchikhin was born on 3/1/1959 in the autonomous Republic of Ajara, Georgia. On graduating high school in 1976, he entered the Moscow Aviation Institute. He qualified as a mechanical engineer in 1983 and joined Energia, the Russian Space Corporation, where he rose to the position of lead engineer. In November 1999 he completed his basic cosmonaut training course. In January 2000, he started training for the ISS programme. In October 2002, Yurchikhin flew aboard STS-112; his first space flight logged a total of 10 days, 19 hours, and 58 minutes. His second flight, in April 2007, was a 197-day tour of duty commanding the Expedition-15 mission aboard the ISS. He was honoured as a Hero of Russia on October 23, 2008. Yurchikhin also holds a PhD in economics and enjoys reading, sports, stamp-collecting and space history.


Published in Russia Now / Russia & India Report, March 2009, with The Economic Times (India)...

From hard bop to the new school, jazz has found a haven in post-communist Russia.

Moscow's jazz scene is a creature of many faces. Take the comical shenanigans of one big band in a dive of an expat bar, with all members clad in matching mustard-yellow tassled jackets and an old hippy guitarist who looks (and probably thinks) like he's still in the Swinging 60s, or a pastiche Cuban group belting out Santana covers to an empty room. Contrast that with heavy-hitters like saxophonist Igor Butman, a popular figure who cut his teeth in the US for a decade, or Alex Rostotsky, an electric bass player whose latest CD features adventurous adaptations of works by Modest Mussorgsky. Right down to a highly flamboyant yet equally creative acapella vocal trio called Jukebox, it's all here.

According to Cyril Moshkov, editor of jazz.ru, Russia's only jazz magazine, there are about 1,000 jazz players in the city (official population 10.5 million – in reality it's more). They fall into three generations: the old guard, who favour austere hard bop and other mainstream styles; the middlemen, now in their 30s and 40s, 80% of whom left Russia to pursue careers abroad (interestingly, many went to Israel); and, finally, the young cats, still paying their dues and finding a way into the murky world of jazz music.

Russia's first jazz concert took place in October 1922 at the behest of Valentin Parnakh, an enigmatic all-rounder who wrote poetry, choreographed ballet and played piano. He brought the first jazz records and instruments to the country from Paris. The music was thereafter repressed in various ways throughout the Soviet Union – including the period of Butman's emergence in the 70s and 80s, when non-state-sanctioned concerts could see musicians or promoters locked up. During jam sessions with visiting American groups, Russians played with their foreign peers but were not allowed to exchange words. Government inspectors would ensure two violations resulted in dismissal from the state booking agency, which provided musicians with all their work.

Much has changed since those dark days. One look at the monthly gig listings on jazz.ru's information portal will show abundant choices any given night – and not only local groups, but a host of international names as well. Tessa Souter, a British vocalist who lives in New York, recently played a couple of dates at the Union of Composers and was happy to sing the praises of her Russian backing band: "They were great. There's something different about the way Russians swing, it's wonderful. Musicians have a lot of soul like the Russian people."

Financial woe may have hit the country hard, but that hasn't stopped a new jazz club from popping up right in the historic centre of Moscow – the V&J, situated on Old Arbat, a popular tourist promenade. "People are becoming more interested in music and art, not material things, so I don't think the crisis makes a difference" says Victor Voitov, the V half of "V&J". "We wanted to open a place where Moscow's high-level musicians can let new people into jazz music."

Even after three months of pretty solid concertgoing, there's still a lot left for me to see.

Published @ guardian.co.uk, 29/4/09 - click here for original.

Hailed by none other than Bill Clinton as one of the world’s greatest living saxophone players, Igor Butman is an icon of Russian musical life. Born in St Petersburg in 1961, he took up the instrument at 15 with encouragement from his jazz aficionado father, a keen musician who worked by day and gigged by night.

“My father told me about jazz. I hadn’t actually heard much, because I’d been listening mostly to Soviet pop, but my dad was an amateur drummer and singer who often played at weddings and in restaurants,” Butman explains. “He was really the person who got me into jazz music, and music itself.”

Jazz in Russia goes back to the 1920s. According to Butman, it has been through various blurry periods of development, as well as confusion with classical music. The Soviet regime’s strict control of artistic liberty presented both opportunities and challenges: “As soon as I started playing sax, I was able to perform in jazz clubs around St Petersburg. I travelled with different groups to places like Moscow, Latvia, Lithuania and Ukraine, but I wasn’t allowed to go abroad because they thought I might escape.”

“In Soviet times, the state-owned booking agency would provide you with concerts – it didn’t matter if you sold out or had two people in the audience, they would still get you 14 concerts a month,” says Butman. However, despite supplying a steady stream of work, this closed system placed considerable constraints on creativity. “I put together my own band, but I couldn’t get a job because I wasn’t in the state booking agency. It wasn’t easy to get professional status and be able to travel. So I decided to go to the United States and try the normal way.”

In 1987, Butman arrived in Boston to study at the renowned Berklee College of Music. “I was already the best in the Soviet Union and I knew my limitations,” recalls the saxophonist. “I had to study, play and be in competition with the best in the world. After graduating, I moved to New York for a few years, before coming back to Russia permanently in 1997.”

It was on his return to Moscow that Butman’s career really took off. He began to establish himself as the leading light in Russian jazz, recording several CDs – including his most recent release, Magic Land, which features theme tunes from Soviet cartoons and an elite group of American players.

Russia’s jazz scene today is a far cry from its state in the former USSR, when you could be thrown in jail for holding unauthorised concerts. Butman is quick to acknowledge how “everything has changed,” especially in terms of healthy competition in the musical world. “It’s a harder life for us in a way. There’s a lot of competition between orchestras and groups, which I like. You have to keep improving and really provide something interesting and unique; you have to think about what you can give to venues or concert halls.”

“Now there are a lot more good young musicians. A lot of things are happening all around Russia – every town has its own interesting scene. It’s not only Moscow, but Novosibirsk, St Petersburg, Vladivostok, Rostov-on-Don, Yaroslavl. There are also a lot more jazz clubs competing with each other, and they are able to bring in the best musicians from all over the world.”

The sense of anticipation when a big act hits town is exciting for Butman, who has been organising his own jazz festival for nine years. “It’s called Triumph of Jazz. I’m trying to find new names and give them the opportunity of playing here, as well as bringing old stars who made a revolution in jazz.”

“I think there’s a big market for that in Russia. People are interested in jazz, and they’ve heard about me – a lot of people know me, so they can place trust in what I’m going to play or the people I’m going to bring, even if they don’t know who it is. There’s a big sense of curiosity, because it’s not every day we have something so special. A lot of different people come to the concerts.”

Butman’s status as something of a jazz celebrity in Russia has built up from numerous angles, not least his powerful and distinctive voice on tenor saxophone. In addition to running a club and the Triumph festival, he also hosted the show ‘Jazzophrenia’ on national television.

Most recently, he embarked on an ambitious eight-concert US tour with the Crossover Concerto, a collaboration featuring classical maestro Yuri Bashmet and the composer Igor Raykhelson. “We have my big band and a chamber orchestra, the Moscow Soloists, conducted by Yuri Bashmet. It’s a combination of different music: they play classical pieces, with a little jazz influence, and we play some classical in our jazz way. It’s challenging, but it sounds so good – for us it’s just incredible.”

The current vitality of Russian jazz receives no better endorsement than the fact Butman does not see a reason for returning to America: “I don’t have to live there. Of course I really liked it, but I like to live in Russia just as much.” Habitually sold-out gigs indicate this feeling is mutual.


Published in Russia Now, March 2009, w/ Washington Post (USA) & Daily Telegraph (UK).

HelloAll.
Today in Port Harcourt inb Niger Delta Region of Nigeria young people came together to look at the way forward on the developmental issues affecting young people and the respones of young people to the developmental process of the Region.
The meeting had in attandance Hilda Dukubo, Exective Director Centre for Creative Rrts Education , Esther Agbarakwe, Earth Charter Youth Incitivites, Nigeria, and other young people from states in The Region.
The Detials will be sent in teh next few days.

The new Russian patriarch will need all his diplomatic skills to manage what has become a fractious church.

The Russian Orthodox church's new Patriarch faces several challenges as he comes to power; not least, a fresh wave of questions over the institution's role in everyday life.

A recent poll conducted by the Russian public survey centre, VTsIOM, saw nearly half of respondents express a degree of opposition to the suitability of Orthodox moral standards in modern society. Thirty-five percent went half way, saying some standards were acceptable and others not, while another 14% held all Orthodox practices to be completely outdated. The number of undecideds was 21%, with only 30% believing people should unequivocally stand by the Orthodox moral schema.

While these findings may be indicative rather than definitive, they come at a crucial moment. The popular Patriarch Alexey II, who led a spiritual revival after decades of enforced Soviet atheism, died in early December, setting off a wave of public grief. On 1 February he was replaced by former Metropolitan Kirill, a man whose coverage in the western media has created as many questions as answers. Kirill, the first post-USSR patriarch, must ask himself why people seem to be drifting away so soon after the church's supposed renaissance. What can he do to stanch the flow and win them back?

The first problem stems from the patriarchal election process. The competition was bitter and ugly. Though the candidates themselves were diplomatic, their followers engaged in smear tactics and mudslinging, spreading rumours on the internet and openly defaming opponents. Kirill must immediately cast this aside. His famed PR skills will be put to good use – known as an inspirational orator, he has hosted a weekly national TV show. The nasty campaign has at least produced a decisive victory, with Kirill winning 508 out of 702 votes; he should use this mandate to deal confidently with the challenges facing him.

Questions surround Kirill's relationship with government. He is known for being close to the Kremlin, but observers appear divided over where he could take the church-state relationship. Progressives are aching for him to usher in a new age of independence for the church, but this is unlikely to happen any time soon, if at all. Nevertheless, the critical consensus seems to be that, one way or another, Kirill will be a politically involved patriarch.

In his Christmas speech, Kirill discussed the economic crisis. The dire financial situation means he must be cautious – at least publicly – about how closely he allies himself to Putin's establishment. He has said the relationship should be based on "mutual non-interference in each other's affairs", but the truth of this statement remains to be seen. During these times of falling government popularity and rising prospects of social unrest, Kirill's best tactic would be presenting himself as the detached voice of reason, projecting calmness and hope.

As in all religions, rampant factionalism has plagued the Orthodox church; an institutionally conservative body encompassing hardliners, moderates and more progressive thinkers. It is impossible to keep everyone happy. The issue of ties with the Roman Catholic faith is controversial: while serving as the Orthodox church's director of external relations, Kirill improved relations with the Vatican. His elevation to the patriarchy received words of welcome from the pope himself. However, on the eve of the vote, Kirill had made a wily bid to secure the support of ultraconservatives: he refuted reports that he was set to swiftly convene a papal meeting if he won, saying problematic issues remained to be solved. As the Roman Catholic church is excluded from official status in Russia, this is an area he must navigate extremely carefully – perhaps by continuing to moderate his own conciliatory instincts.

Next, there is the long-standing dispute over Estonia. Following the break-up of the Soviet Union, the country's Orthodox church split in two: the state-endorsed Apostolic Orthodox church, under jurisdiction of the ecumenical patriarchate, and the Estonian Orthodox church, under the Moscow patriarchate. Sour wranglings over which one has territorial rights, including disputes regarding property ownership, have been a dominant issue – and were particularly so for Estonian-born Alexey II. Kirill's reputation as a talented diplomat and skilled negotiator, finely honed during his time at the external relations department, gives him a fresh opportunity to finally make headway.

It seems Patriarch Kirill will be faced by the emerging challenge of reconciling the Russian people with his church's moral compass, in effect redefining its significance for modern times. This won't be easy: under western influence, Russian society is becoming less spiritual and more materialistic. In an intriguing aside, an online public referendum of senior clergymen saw Kirill win by less than 2% in a poll of 76,000 votes, with 41.1% in total. Moreover, the close second was not one of the three final contenders but Metropolitan Daniel of All Japan. Comical this may be, but perhaps it does indeed reflect an appetite for change from an institution which, according to the New York Times, often has the air of an enforced state religion.

Published @ guardian.co.uk, 6/2/09 - click here for original.

maybe it will get published... here's hoping! :)


Sir,

I find it inaccurate to call President Obama's decision to end the Global Gag Rule, an "order... ending the prohibition on sending aid to international organisations that provide abortion." (Brief Encounter, January 31st). Obama's decision does not change the fact that US tax-payers' dollars cannot be used to provide abortions overseas. The
legislation, first enacted by Ronald Reagan, rejected by Clinton and reinstated by Bush, prohibited US family planning assistance to organizations that use non-US funds to perform abortions (even in countries where it is legal), provide counseling and referrals for abortion, and lobby to liberalize abortion laws.

None of these restrictions would be permitted within the United States, where abortion is legal. Yet US ideologues had no qualms about denying poor women the right to decide when and if to carry out a pregnancy. Each year there are 19 million unsafe abortions, most of which could be prevented if poor women had access to voluntary family
planning including contraception, sex education, and the ability to prevent unwanted pregnancies. In addition, women with fewer births are able to invest more in their children's nutrition and education-- resulting in healthier, more productive contributors to society.

Many of the organizations that lost their funding were unable to provide other life-saving services such as maternal and infant healthcare, poverty reduction, and HIV prevention. For example, the United Nations Population Fund lost its US contribution of $244 million over seven years, based on a spurious claim of collusion with the Chinese government in coerced sterilizations. This contributed to 74,000 deaths from unsafe abortion globally each year, even though Bush's own hand-picked State Department team visited China and found no evidence that UNFPA participated in such programs; and, indeed, that its programs were "a force for good." Obama's move to restore reproductive freedoms to women will surely reduce global demand for abortion and improve overall population health.



(PS- the picture of all the old white dudes is from bush's second day in office, when he signed the global gag rule back into its miserable existence.)

If today's "outline" gas agreement between Ukraine and Russia holds, there will be no doubt who brokered it: Vladimir Putin, Russia's busy ex-president. A week ago, as the crisis peaked, Russia's constitutional head of state, President Dmitri Medvedev, delivered a virtual address from the alpine resort of Sochi. Standing in front of a picturesque mountain backdrop, he spoke about the importance of Russians learning how to relax.

Why was Medvedev, a former chairman of the board at Gazprom – the Russian state energy company at the heart of this ugly dispute – not on the other end of the phone? This glaring question invites a closer investigation into the nature of the relationship between the two most powerful men in Russia.

When he took office in May 2008, doubts were cast on Medvedev's true level of independence from Putin, his predecessor. As Putin's former chief of staff and then deputy prime minister, he was expected by many critics to act as no more than a figurehead for the previous president's continued domination. His pledge to appoint Putin as the constitutional head of government solidified this perception.

However, early interviews seemed to offer hope of a more liberal regime. Medvedev spoke earnestly of the need to tackle corruption and further an agenda of civil and economic freedoms. His status as the first Russian president with no known links to the old Communist party or Soviet secret service was music to western ears.

Any casual glance at Russian papers or TV news bulletins will tell a different story. One person is in control, and it's not Medvedev. The president can often be seen shaking hands with foreign leaders, exchanging gifts or signing treaties – and now, perhaps, in this new hobby of video-blogging to a nation with a 23% internet access rate. It is Vladimir Putin who answers the questions, makes the speeches and outlines policy proposals. And the strangest thing is that nobody even tries to pretend governance happens in any other way: Putin knows, the media knows, the people know. And surely Medvedev knows.

Putin evidently sees no need for the smoke and mirrors of political theatre. He is happy to project his cultivated image as a stoic figure of authority, the heroic leader who revived Russia's global standing and transformed the ailing state into a major emerging power. His popularity ratings are consistently higher than the man who is supposed to hold the keys to the Kremlin, even while they both pointed financial fingers everywhere else amid thousands of Russian job losses.

The situation was compounded in the last months of last year, as Medvedev introduced a package of constitutional reforms that sped through parliamentary approval and were ultimately passed on December 30. Its main feature is an extension of the presidential term from four to six years, applicable from the next election in 2012. Some Kremlin observers believe this was originally drafted during the Putin presidency, and that it is designed to prepare the former KGB operative for a return to power in the long run. Of course, Putin has gone on record to vehemently deny this; but it must be noted that Medvedev's professed anti-corruption ideals have taken a back seat – the constitutional alterations are his only significant legislative achievement from the first eight months in office.

On the other hand, there have been rumblings and rumours from the presidential residence. The Financial Times reported that Medvedev had been moving to distance himself from the idea of a bilateral decision-making process with his prime minister, openly stating he would "not be able to share this responsibility with anyone". This ran contrary to his former emphasis on consultation. Even more overtly, he then went against the previous line to criticise Putin's government for a slow response to the economic crisis. The Putin circle has been tight-lipped, but recent developments regarding the gas negotiations and Medvedev's apparent demotion to blogger-in-chief suggest that something may have happened backstage.

Over the next few months this subtle tug-of-war will be an intriguing story. The Russian government has attempted to gloss over the severity of the financial crisis, but, as its effects increasingly emerge in the public sphere, someone will have to talk about it. Any statements from Putin in the coming days will be significant, as it seems Medvedev has already initiated a little blame game with his supposed number two. This could be the start of a new self-confidence campaign, as the president attempts to assert himself as the face of power; he's even adopted faint echoes of an Obama-style web consultation by opening his blog to moderated comments.

Indeed, Barack Obama will present the next major challenge for Medvedev and Putin. Constitutionally, Obama's Russian counterpart controls foreign policy, but the PM may have something to say about that.

Published at guardian.co.uk, 19/1/09 - click here for original.

City Jazz Festival
December 4-5, 2008
16 Tons
Moscow, Russia


Erik Truffaz
December 4

Swiss trumpeter Erik Truffaz, a moderately well-known figure on the international tour circuit, surely counts Russia as a favorite gigging destination. This concert, in a popular pub-cum-music-club called 16 Tons, saw him welcomed by a highly enthusiastic young crowd--a far cry from the standard demographic at most similar events in the UK. Despite lengthy delays in reaching the city after landing at the airport, Truffaz and his quartet played with similar vigor, whipping up euphoric grooves based on relatively simple melodic and harmonic ideas. His effective cross-section of jazz and popular music is the main source of his mainstream appeal, although the live show was nevertheless largely sans gimmicks save for the drummer's momentary dabbling with electronic randomness. Obvious references can be made to the late work of Miles Davis, so it's not particularly original, but the band was enjoyable to watch and Truffaz can certainly look forward to many happy returns to city and country.


The Bad Plus with Wendy Lewis
December 5

Music by Stravinsky, Ornette Coleman and the three band members was on the bill in a typically distinctive set from The Bad Plus. Two things let them down. First, the sound engineer: Ethan Iverson's piano was far too low for the instrumental tunes, meaning it struggled for leverage against drummer Dave King's trademark scampering rhythms and skittery beats. A bigger, balanced sound to match the players' personalities was needed. The band's inclusion of indie rock singer Wendy Lewis for recent tours and the upcoming album has raised many eyebrows, and justifiably so. Her presence, although it clearly dominated the sound check, did not lend matching gravity to the overall performance--with a limited vocal range and negligible on-stage charisma, it felt like she was getting in the way more often than not, distracting from the fine creative work of Iverson, King and bassist Reid Anderson. The group's desire to explore new territory is understandable--even after a series of highly acclaimed trio records--but one couldn't help thinking they might have made a better choice of vocalist.

Photo Credit
Elmira Kuznetsova

Published at allaboutjazz.com, 21/12/08 - click here for original.

(Written for SAWNET, http://sawnet.org/books/reviews.php?Aids+Sutra)



Today there are approximately 3 million Indians living with HIV and AIDS, a number that masks the human faces behind a disease that has been reviled and misunderstood as the worst plague in human history. A disease often considered to afflict only those regarded as the dredges of society, AIDS has the potential both to expose the dark underbelly of society, and also to inspire triumphs of human compassion and perseverance.
AIDS Sutra, funded by the Gates Foundation, is a compilation of 16 vibrant essays about Indians living with HIV by some of South Asia’s most gifted authors, including Salman Rushdie, Vikram Seth, and Kiran Desai. Several of the essays are narrated directly from the authors’ home communities; others are the fruition of their travels to the vastly different regions of India.

Siddharth Deb’s poignant account, “The Lost Generation of Manipur,” brings him to a remote corner of India bereft of employment opportunities and constantly on edge due to communal violence. Uncontrolled injecting drug use in the region puts young people of working age especially at risk for HIV infection.

Salman Rushdie’s piece on the politics and culture of the hijra (intersexed and/or transgender) community is a concise account of a population that defies society´s common [mis]perceptions around gender and HIV risk. Rushdie interviews a transgender AIDS activist named Laxmi, who lives in a constant duality of gender- going as a man by day and living with her parents, and transforming into a woman at night and on the weekends. Her advocacy on behalf of this distinct community in India has helped to distinguish hijras as a third gender- with different needs and challenges than men who have sex with men.

Other stories included in the book examine the lives of truck drivers, sex workers, and devadasis, women traditionally given to god, and nowadays women who choose or are forced into sex work as a means of income generation. In Sunil Gangopadhyay’s essay, “Return to Sonagacchi,” the author returns home to Kolkata to compose a compelling account of the lives of sex workers in Sonagachhi, narrating both the deprivation they face and also their power as an organized movement fighting for their rights as sex workers to safety, health services, education for their children, freedom from police persecution, and dignity.

Bill and Melinda Gates give the anthology’s introduction, and its insightful forward is written by the Nobel Prize-winning economist and author of Development as Freedom, Amartya Sen. Sen revolutionized the traditional economic paradigm by asserting that development is not simply about increasing per capita income, but rather “a process of expanding the real freedoms that people enjoy.” His examination of the economic effects of AIDS in India is nuanced in its consideration of both the beneficial impact of Indian pharmaceuticals in producing affordable antiretroviral drugs for much of the world, and the irony that income disparity in India prevents the majority of Indians living with HIV from accessing treatment, quality medical facilities, shelter, employment opportunities, and community support.

Sen argues that stigma is the primary fuel of the epidemic in India, where widespread ignorance pervades about how HIV is—and is not—transmitted. Among young Indians just reaching working age, knowledge how HIV is spread is dismally low at 25% of the population according to UNAIDS (20% comprehensive knowledge among women and 36% among men). Because many Indians still believe that HIV can be transmitted through touch, sharing food, or through aerosol transmission, Indians living with HIV face discrimination in schools and workplaces, ostracization, rejection from their families, and in many cases, violence and even death.

India’s uncomfortable and often times paradoxical relationship with sex and sexuality is often at the root of ignorance and discrimination against HIV, with 87% of new infections in India occurring through unprotected sexual intercourse each year according to India’s National AIDS Control Organization. Despite an ancient culture rich in celebration of natural human sexuality, imperial-era taboos surrounding sex continue to create a stifling conservatism that limits access to scientific information about sexually transmitted infections, reproductive health, and the rights of women and sexual minorities.

In Amit Chaudhuri’s essay, “Healing,” he remarks that “The troubling ambiguity of sex through history— the fact that it bestows life and pleasure, and also, in a way that can’t be entirely explained by morality, confuses and shames— have converged in a new way upon this disease.” His interviews with Alka Desphpande, an AIDS researcher and physician in India’s first AIDS ward, reveal the challenges faced even by the medical community in becoming educated about HIV. Large numbers of Indian health care workers still believe that HIV is transmitted by touch, and widespread denial of treatment and discrimination against people living with HIV is common.

The first essay “Mister X Versus Hospital Y” by Nikita Lalwani tells the story of a Dr. Tokugha who is infected with HIV and becomes an important activist when his results are disclosed to his family (and bride-to-be’s family) before he himself is made aware of his status, just days before the wedding. His lawsuit against the hospital’s breach of his privacy sparked controversial debate and the release of his name in newspapers all across India. The court ruled against him, “decreeing that the hospital’s release of the information to the minister without his consent had ‘saved the life’ of Toku’s proposed fiancée. The essay forces us to consider the complexities behind forced disclosure of one’s HIV status. Not only was Dr. “Toku”’s right to self-disclose taken away from him, the judge tacked on a devastating addition to the ruling, that suspended the right of HIV positive people to marry. The laudable human rights organization, The Lawyers’ Collective, fought for years to restore this basic human right to people living with HIV, succeeding in 2002. Since then, Dr. Toku has become a prominent physician in the field, and goes above and beyond by arranging matches between people living with HIV.

Discrimination and national legislation intersect most brutally in India with the penal code provision 377 that makes homosexuality a criminal offense. Drafted in 1860 during British Rule, the anachronistic law fines and imprisons Indians caught in the act of sodomy and even oral sex for between ten years and a lifetime in jail. The law has served to drive homosexuality “underground” where men having unprotected sex with men cannot be reached for HIV awareness raising, sexual health services, STI screening, or recourse for police persecution and demanding of bribes.

One story included in the collection was strikingly disappointing— to the point of giving offense. Shobhaa De’s “When AIDS Came Home” reveals the author’s ignorant, discriminatory and classist lack of understanding of HIV and AIDS. Her account of how her driver becomes infected with HIV and gradually dies from AIDS is peppered with comments about her “repulsion” that he had spent so much time with her children, speculations about his involvement with sex workers and his sexuality, and self-congratulatory accolades when she provided occasional money for a doctor or medicine.

De’s piece examines her misconceptions about AIDS and vaguely suggests that she has seen the error in her was (perhaps simply because it would not be politically correct to admit otherwise), but still fails to include what lessons she has learned. Indeed, to conclude her story Shobhaa marvels that “Although they are such an intimate part of our lives, how little we really know about the people who work for us… it took Shankar’s death to see him as a human.” She concludes by lying to her children and telling them that the driver was infected through a blood transfusion because the reality that many men purchase sex is too shocking to bear.

By far the most thought-provoking inclusion in the anthology, Siddharth Dhanvant Shanghvi’s “Hello, Darling,” diverges from the book’s overall focus on more “marginalized” populations of sex workers, drug users and truckers, to recount the life experiences with HIV of an upper-class homosexual film director whose pseudonym is given as “Murad.” Openly flamboyant, driven to success, and yet still slow to “come out” about his homosexuality, and later, HIV status, Murad escapes the confines of Bombay and moves to New York City. He is unable to move in the local film circuit and returns to Bombay years later, where he eventually succumbs to AIDS.

Shanghvi’s piece is particularly well-researched and deeply-felt; his account considers early chronicles of the impact of AIDS on art and artists in Edmund White’s “Esthetics and Loss,” and the strange phenomenon of how AIDS “got noticed,” as explained in Urvashi Vaid’s “Virtual Equality,” in which she observes “how the passing of an entire generation from AIDS helped give rise to the modern idea of homosexuality: thousands of men had to die, in fact, to have to be seen as alive in the first place.” Shanghvi’s inclusion was particularly important and contrasted sharply with De’s story. “Hello, Darling” should serve as a wake-up call to elites believing in their infallibility, since the risk behaviors that propel the spread of HIV in India are by no means limited to lower socioeconomic echelons of society.

Overall, the anthology is an important, moving, and transformative read. Each story is relatively brief and gives a taste of the authors’ diverse and prolific literary talents. Some tales, such as De’s, are clearly geared toward upper class Indians who are beginning to understand the complexities of the AIDS epidemic in India. Still others delve into economic, political and human rights aspects of the disease. Till now, literature and artistic works on AIDS in India have been limited and relatively unknown. AIDS Sutra gives voice to communities and individuals that have been destroyed, silenced, affected and transformed by AIDS in a jarring and yet deeply meaningful manner.

At 77, Omara Portuondo is an elder stateswoman of world music. Here she tells Frederick Bernas about her new album, Gracias, and reflects on a long life of innovation, cultural enterprise and funny stories.

With a musical career spanning 60 years and counting, Omara Portuondo is far from finished. "It is never enough, there is always more to do, there is always something new," she states from a comfy couch in the top-floor bar of a London hotel. It's early Friday morning and the singer is probably not too enthralled by the prospect of a day with the media.

However, she speaks enthusiastically about her new CD, Gracias, which was released on September 25. "I selected these tracks because they are very popular and people know them in Cuba. I like all of these songs and I wanted to work with younger people who play modern music which is still rooted in tradition." Indeed, the backing band for this 13-track disc features the likes of jazz bass virtuoso Avishai Cohen and rising Cuban star Roberto Fonseca on piano. Other guest appearances include Indian percussionist Trilok Gurtu, sweet-voiced Richard Bona from Cameroon, veteran pianist Chucho Valdés and Brazilian crooner Chico Buarque.

"The music doesn't know the barriers of age or language," she continues. "I wanted to bring everyone together to celebrate 60 years. I've done lots of records; this time I wanted to work with songs I've done before but make them more contemporary, more actual." Easily discernible from its title, the album is a gesture of appreciation -- "I wanted to say thank you to all these people: my family, musicians, authors, composers, the public, everyone who has helped me."

In the early years, Omara learnt traditional songs from her parents and became a professional dancer in 1945. Swapping her dancing shoes for a mic, she was then part of several innovative movements in Cuban music, with fusion across genres such as jazz, bossa and other Latin styles. Her debut album was released in 1959 and for the next 40 years she worked steadily on different projects, mostly solo, including the Buena Vista Social Club.

A worldwide phenomenon emerged: Wim Wenders produced a compelling documentary and World Circuit Records released an album of the same name. Portuondo and others skyrocketed to international fame almost overnight, and she identifies this as the highlight of her musical life so far. "It made Cuban music known all over the world. I had been to Finland, Japan, other countries, but then with the Buena Vista Social Club everything went global. There was a collective feeling of joy and it made me very happy. I have huge pride that I worked with these musicians, sang these songs."

Had she expected such a boom of interest in Cuban music? "It's a difficult thing, it was a coincidence. It happened organically, without thinking about it -- [producer] Nick Gold, Wim Wenders and [guitarist/producer] Ry Cooder were there to work on the project and it just happened. We never really imagined it was going to be so successful. The record was going to be made anyway. You just need to be in the right place at the right time for an opportune moment!"

Portuondo already had a considerable reputation in Cuba: wonderful images from Wenders' film of her walking through Havana, singing choruses of popular tunes with members of the public, illustrate her significance in domestic culture. She maintains that her life "didn't really change" when her fame acquired this international dimension, but it perhaps fostered a heightened sense of consciousness at being a global ambassador for the little island's artistic scene. "I don't feel pressure from fans to produce a good album, but I feel responsibility that I am representing the music of a country. I feel like the public are on my side. And I don't really feel the high expectations because I am part of a team; the musicians with me are young, and they have won prizes in jazz festivals. They really help me to move forward."

Cuban influence on world music is disproportionate to the size of its population -- the nation has a history of producing great players who have collaborated fruitfully with foreign artists, particularly in the field of jazz. Dizzy Gillespie was one of the first to break away from the American mainstream he'd helped create, venturing into what is now known as Latin jazz to produce a series of albums which defined the sub-genre. Omara offers an insightful explanation, arguing, "It's no so much that Cuba is an influence, we've been very well-informed.

"Even though it's a small country, 11 million inhabitants, we still receive information. I knew the Beatles, I sung their songs, I sung with Nat King Cole, I sung Italian songs, American, English... We had people on TV from Italy, North America, Mexico, so we all saw that. Cuba has always been very well-informed on what's going on in the outside world -- whether it is music, film, recordings or whatever."

In terms of the future, she has prudent words: "I see it like any other country in the world. It all depends on the youth, the opportunities. Cuba is subject to a lot of things -- for example, hurricanes -- but I see it as any other country." Her tone possesses a grandmotherly air of wisdom on the subject, and she speaks brightly of new Cuban musical talent. "There are so, so many musicians to look out for! They are making all kinds of music, and lots of young people ask to work with me -- for example, I have worked with a rapper on something really funky, very upbeat. There is a lot of musical interest from young people in Cuba."

Like any grandparent, Omara has a wealth of random tales -- she bursts into life when asked about comical memories, animatedly recounting the time when "I was singing with a quartet live on TV, and one of the other girls swallowed a fly! It flew into her mouth as we were ending a song, and we didn't realise she had run away!

"Lots of unexpected things happen on stage. There was another time when the heel of my shoe wedged into a little gap in the stage live on TV and I fell down! And another time, when we were in Mexico preparing for a show, there was an earthquake while I was on the toilet -- we didn't know what was going on!"

The warmth of her personality shines through, a characteristic that has endeared her to music lovers the world over. This public familiarity as one of the queens of Latin music is aptly demonstrated by the fact her surname has been omitted from the cover of Gracias, a risky luxury few other musicians could afford. Her expressive, compassionate voice can be recognised instantly -- it's a "gift" she is profoundly grateful for. "I am lucky to be able to do things with my voice musically. Other people might be more limited, but I can, so I am always going to find something new and something to innovate."

As for motivation, another crucial facet to her thinking is creative exchange: "I did all this so I could spread culture to other countries in the world, and I think I have succeeded. My father taught me all the old Cuban songs when I was a young girl and I've been singing them for more than 50 years now." Did she think it would come this far? "It's not something you think about, it's something that happens. It doesn't matter about the language. It's not something I thought ahead about. I'm doing something I like, so I will always keep going: I never tire of singing, I will not stop singing until one day when I might have to!"


UK tour dates:
10/12/08 -- Sage 1, Gateshead
13/12/08 -- Town Hall, Birmingham
13/12/08 -- Union Chapel, London

Links:
www.omaraportuondo.com
www.myspace.com/omaraportuondoworldcircuit


Published @ Fly, 4/10/08 - click here for original.

On his sixth solo album, the award-winning Wilson looks more towards commercial influences than previous work.

It would be easy for a man of Alex Wilson's pianistic talent to cruise along comfortably, picking up sideman or session gigs here and there and continuing to operate in the time-honoured medium of standard small jazz groups. But that doesn't match his creative vision. Instead, recent records have seen him assemble a 12-piece all-singing, all-dancing Latin ensemble, capable of swirling grooves and intricate polyrhythms which bring out the best in his compositional nous.

After Inglaterra (2007), a disc which firmly established his arrival as a major player on dancefloors around the world, Wilson has opted for a more western, singer-oriented outing - as the title of Salsa Con Soul would suggest. Welcome to a truly globalised world, where traditional elements of Latin music are combined with more mainstream genres like soul, R&B and gospel.

The band is spot on, raking through sharp, classy arrangements that complement the assortment of vocalists and help them sound really good. The word 'diva' has become cliché, including its use in this CD's press release, and there is a sense of a diva complex in the music: the English lyrics occasionally veer precariously close to the rather crass realms of our dearly beloved pop kingdom. However, spicy instrumentation will often step in to save the day, like a knight in shining armour to rescue the damsel in distress, going some way to appease even the staunchest anti-pop crusaders. This is not said lightly, but it's forgivable in the name of fun.

Salsa Con Soul ticks pretty much all the boxes. There's even a sprinkling of fiery non-vocal tunes to soothe the aforementioned purists - 'Sabroson' and 'Antonio' offer a pleasant respite from soul diva shenanigans. If you're planning a Latin-themed dance party, this record should be number one on the shopping list.


Release: 20/10/08

Tour:
19/10/08 - Leeds University
8/11/08 - Birmingham Town Hall
21/11/08 - Jazz Café, London

Links:
www.alexwilson.net
www.myspace.com/alexwilsonpiano



Published @ Fly, 3/10/08 - click here for original.

As the Bristol scene becomes increasingly self-confident and highly talented players pour out of the city seeking wider exposure, Frederick Bernas profiles the latest to make a splash, saxophonist James Morton.

“I don’t class myself as a jazz musician,” says James Morton. This 26-year-old saxophonist’s philosophy reflects the Bristol music scene that has nurtured him. The city has attracted recent attention in the jazz world, with The Blessing taking home the Best Album gong from this year’s BBC Jazz Awards and a string of ear-catching performances at Glastonbury’s Jazz Lounge. Morton, however, keenly emphasises its position as “a real hub of creativity in a very eclectic way” and his passion for other forms of music is crystal clear.

“I’m not one of those people who was obsessed by jazz from a really young age, although I was listening to it. I’ve always loved funk, reggae, soul, motown and dance music. Being a saxophone player, I think everyone has the expectation that jazz is the predominant thing, but for me it wasn’t that way. Jazz was secondary in my musical journey; it’s now very important to me, but I discovered it later.”

Growing up in Cheddar, a village near Bristol, Morton’s first instrument was the violin: “I started playing when I was five, but when I was nine I looked at the saxophone and thought it was sexy and tactile – I thought ‘yeah, I want to play that!’ A violin case doesn’t look cool, but if you walk around with a saxophone a few girls might look at you,” he says with a cheekily confident air. A couple of years later he was gigging regularly with older musicians, earning money and drawing inspiration from how “playing, rehearsing and performing became a normal part of life.”

After leaving school at 16, Morton graduated from the Guildhall jazz masters course age 22. He returned to Bristol and has been mentored by Andy Sheppard and Pee Wee Ellis, both of whom he is quick to acknowledge as major influences. Touring with Ellis’ African Tribute to James Brown project has been fruitful – “I’m learning an amazing amount. Every gig, every rehearsal, every moment I’m absorbing. It’s a few different categories: horn section playing, concentration, building solos, grabbing an audience, listening… I could go on forever.”

A productive relationship with Sheppard took off when the talismanic tenorman showed up at Morton’s residency in a small Bristol wine bar, Luna. “The first bit of advice he gave me was to get a stable house band, as I’d been using different people every week. When I did, he came and played a gig with us and I started hanging out with him more. We’ve done a few gigs now – the project is called ‘James Morton and the Luna-tics featuring Andy Sheppard’ and I feel very privileged to be working with him. He’s taught me a lot about approaching solos, jazz composition and even valuable skills like presenting yourself to promoters and that kind of business angle.”

This understanding of the need to pick up information from those with greater know-how was boldly apparent. When asked about his ambitions, Morton replies: “For now, I want to keep on working with really inspirational people who are more experienced than I am. I feel I am still very much learning about playing and writing music.” And he is adamant there is no better place to do it than Bristol.

“Bristol is kicking off musically. There are loads of young players coming through, getting better very quickly, and there’s some really good stuff going on. I don’t want to stick with the jazz thing – the scene is very diverse. There’s some great reggae music by Dub From Atlantis, which I’m loosely involved with. Edenheight is a 10-piece funk collective I’ve been working and recording with. James Gardiner-Bateman and Josh Arcoleo are talented sax players and look out for Bellatrix, a bebop-playing bassist and award-winning beatboxer who is currently studying in London.”

As for his own projects, in addition to the Luna-tics Morton currently leads a “nine-piece soul and hip-hop influenced jazz-funk thing” called The Rawness. “In between touring and gigging, I’m working hard to develop the band – it’s getting there, I’m still writing. I hope to have something finished by early autumn.” Once again demonstrating a full awareness of the challenges this can entail, he admits that “the way I recorded it the first time didn’t match the sound in my head, so I’m re-recording in a different way. You have to make mistakes; making records and playing gigs are two completely different sports. I’m learning a lot by doing things, not being happy, and doing it again.”

This calm level-headedness stems from an iron desire to succeed as a solo artist, rather than going down the hallowed session road. “I’ve always been headstrong about the things I do. I decided I wanted to make a living out of music and nothing’s got in the way.” Nominations for the Jerwood Foundation Take Five scheme and the Promoters’ Choice Award pay testament to his vision and drive. “I want to sell records, see my name in lights and be an amazing musician… with people who are better than me! I want to be able to choose the musicians I want to work with and the venues I want to play.” With a work ethic that produced 8-10 hours’ practice per day in the run up to his Guildhall audition, the alto player is obviously not lacking commitment.

Morton’s modus operandi also stresses the need for a fiery live persona: “To me there’s more than just playing notes, I like to perform and give people a show, which is part of communication and entertainment. I’m much more an emotional player than an intellectual player. I want to make people move without thinking about it. I want to make people dance, to give them tingles down their spine and make asses shake uncontrollably. That’s my thing. I’m not really a beard-scratcher, I don’t want to go down the beard-scratching audience route. I want to make music that sounds good and feels good and makes people happy.” Amen to that.


Published in Jazzwise, October 2008.