ŠšŠšŠ — the sea and wind raging in Latgale
Review of the 2nd International Ethno Jazz Festival «Guoyu pa JAZZ»
Stylish, vibrant, professional, creative, cosmic, profound. This is how my team members or participants of the ensemble «ŠšŠšŠ» characterized their experience at the 2nd International Ethno Jazz Festival «Guoyu pa JAZZ,» organized by the MIKC Latgale Music and Art School, which took place on February 8th at the Latgale Embassy «GORS» in Rēzekne. So, I will tell you why we describe our experience in these specific words, how we prepared for the competition, and how we ended up unexpectedly winning 1st place and the main prize — free participation in the Rigas Ritmi masterclasses.
For all of us, ethno-jazz as a genre was something new. Love for Latvian traditions and music is not unfamiliar, but how to express it in the world and everyday life, which is so far from the Latvian way of life? Here was our opportunity to revitalize it. We sat down and experimented with the proportions of folk and jazz, simple and complex, but most importantly — originality. Countless times, we watched the recording of the 2023 «Guoyu pa Jazz» and analyzed other participants. We thought about what we liked and what we didn’t. We had to be very careful not to start copying last year’s performances because the history of this competition is not very old — this was only the second year it took place. We understood that the only way to achieve something unprecedented was to listen to ourselves and create something that excites us.
One of the tasks in the competition was to play an original arrangement of a folk song from one’s region. We went to our school’s library, Liepāja Music, Art, and Design High School, and searched for the most beautiful melodies and lyrics to convey our feelings and thoughts. The idea emerged that we could combine both Vidzeme and Kurzeme folk songs because then my and the other vocalist, Ērika Paula Dimante’s native region — Vidzeme, would also be represented. This idea also made arrangement easier because it would be challenging to do that with a folk song with one melody and dozens of verses in an interesting way to listen to, and the lyrics stand out each time. In folk songs, this is especially important. We collected folk instruments from all corners and were ready to figure out how to use them.
The first folk song that was included in our arrangement was «Noriet saule vakarā(i)» from the Vidzeme region, from the song collection of Aina Salmane. Right from the beginning, it seemed to me that there was something metaphysical, incomprehensible, and mantra-like in it. The second folk song was «Guli mana dvēselīte,» recorded by Emīls Melngailis in Kurzeme, which, in turn, impressed me with its mesmerizing and enveloping melody. Both folk songs flowed like kindred streams side by side, but we needed to find a way to blend them into one river. This was accomplished by Ērika and our flutist Sniedze Kārkliņa, who wrote a verse about the «naģīti» (a nightingale) and «sizliņu» (chirp), using Kurzeme dialect words. This created a dramatically complete work. Each rehearsal of this arrangement resembled a ritual. We stood in a circle, turned off the lights, and in the pitch-black darkness, with Ērika’s voice, the harp, the whistler, and the electric guitar, we started spelling out in front of us a golden light-spattered meadow that slowly began to flow over the tree tops until it left us completely. The words rang out, «Noriet saule vakarā’i, zelta zarus zarodama. Dievs, dod mane tā zarot’i, visu mūžu dzīvojot. Noriet saule, tumšs palika, es par tumsu nebēdāju.» We felt united in the power of creation and folk song for the first time.
The second piece was my original composition, «Drūma Mūra Būda,» which was originally written for voice, piano, and double bass. I focused on harmonic minimalism and emphasized rhythm and meter in this piece. The composition already had folk elements, and I chose to enhance them with folk instruments. Sniedze learned to play the Australian Aboriginal folk instrument didgeridoo, Ērika learned to play the Jaws’ harp, and in between, also added the bird whistle. The rough military mood was further intensified by guitarist Regnārs Āva’s solo, giving a taste of Liepāja’s rock music. Meanwhile, for our peaceful and diligent drummer Kristaps Miemis, who had just started his studies in the 1st year this year, these were true baptisms by fire. When I wrote the double bass part, initially, two people refused to play it, deeming it challenging. Our courageous double bassist, Henrijs Augustīns Žaks Lejs, dared to take on this challenge, and he managed it brilliantly. On the other hand, pianist Elza Marija Buša described her experience as follows: «The biggest challenge and adrenaline rush were in the parts of the composition where we had to complement each other at the right time and place. Elsewhere, it was necessary to play and feel as if one person was performing it.» The composition concluded with a piano solo that juxtaposed the rhythmic certainty of the entire composition with its impressionistic spirit. I think with these contrasts, we managed to take somewhere between dream and nightmare, between this world and the beyond.
Heading to Rēzekne, we were all pleasantly excited, as in the last few weeks, we had met almost every evening, got a bit tired, listened to each other, and laughed. Finally, we set out on our journey. 440 kilometers later, upon arriving at «GORS,» there was no doubt about Latgalian hospitality and friendliness, as the dishes kept changing one after the other, and we were well taken care of. It was great to meet acquaintances from several music schools in Latvia. We had gotten to know several of them at the «Šķiuņa Džezs» summer masterclasses in Lūznava. Although we counted as competitors, we wished them luck with a big smile to go on stage, and you could hear how someone had grown in their self-assurance while another excelled in technical skills. The participation of young people from Lithuania and Estonia was refreshing as it offered insight into their understanding of ethno-jazz. Many participants’ arrangements were truly excellent, and I thought about how cool it would be to add them to my Spotify playlist.
Going up on the grand stage at «GORS,» we were slightly stunned because it seemed smaller than expected. Of course, we all had eyes sparkling with happiness because we could perform on such a fantastic stage, but everyone seemed so distant, our ritual circle was broken, and the spotlights were right in our faces. This was our biggest challenge — to get that intimacy and magic despite being in an environment completely contrasting to our usual one. We managed to connect at some point, but at some we didn’t. The sound also affected the quality of this connection. After the performance, of course, everyone had different feelings. Some felt disappointment, some relief, but for some, it was a joy — we are quite self-critical. There was a feeling that what we were creating was like a delicate porcelain cup we were painting, and we had to offer a drink to everyone. A wrong tap, a step in the wrong direction — everything will shatter, disintegrate, and be wiped out.
Listening to other participants, it was immediately clear that the competition was tough. While backstage, we talked about how the jury would have a tough time. The jury consisted of saxophonist, composer, saxophone teacher Toms Rudzinskis, ethnomusicologist and musician Ēriks Zeps, ethnomusicologist, flutist, and educator Katariina Tirmaste (Estonia), as well as double bassist, violinist, ethnic and jazz music representative Robert Alan Mackie (Canada). Seeing that the majority of the jury were experts in folk music, you could immediately understand that jazz musicians with flashy reharmonizations wouldn’t get through a folk song, but it needed serious thought into why this way and not another. Ultimately, arranging folk songs is a highly responsible process, as they have passed through centuries and been handed down through many generations into our hands. It was our chance to give them a modern touch without losing their essence.
I have encountered many elementary and teenage children who really don’t know what a folk song is and can’t sing or recite any. I hope this competition will create a new wave of young people seeking ways to play folk songs, or at least elements of folk music, in a modern way. I think we have all the opportunities to create some quality ethnopop wave. Collaborating with «ŠšŠšŠ» on the arrangement, I realized that ethno-jazz is a genre where I might see myself working at some point. It’s no longer just contemporary music — it’s music with a deep and valuable historical layer.
The most valuable part was talking to all the jury members after the competition and hearing useful recommendations on improvisation, composition, dynamics, etc. All the little details we wondered about, whether they would be noticed or if they were important, were indeed noticed and emphasized as crucial in the end. For example, self-presentation, introducing the choice of the piece, a unified performance feel, and the visual image. The jury members also emphasized that all ensembles had worked well. While discussing the assessment, there was a lot of talk about nuances. In my opinion, the bar is set quite high for such a young competition and young people in a less-known genre.
One of the goals of the competition is to promote mutual communication and collaboration among young music groups. While preparing for the competition, issues related to this goal emerged, and I assume we are not the only ones. Sniedze, as the main manager of the «ŠšŠšŠ» ensemble, commented on it: «The difficulties we faced were actually basic things, but they caused stumbling. Therefore, in my opinion, professional music education institutions should teach more practical skills necessary for the real work of a musician. Such as — how to create a rider, how to organize, lead different ensembles, take responsibility, communicate, and adapt to the situation. Talk about every musician’s problems, so we know how to act at that moment.» Often, we place too much emphasis on artistic skills but forget that without the ability to organize our time, manage others, and feel responsible for ourselves and others, our co-created music can remain unheard, unexamined, and undeveloped.
Thanks to our ensemble leader, Rustams Bagirovs, for trusting us and giving us creative freedom. Thanks to the competition organizers for the opportunity to step onto the magnificent stage at «Gors.» Thanks to all the members of «ŠšŠšŠ» for the work and love invested. And, of course, once again, congratulations to Jānis Ivanovs Rēzekne Music Secondary School jazz department on their five-year jubilee — let’s walk together in music!