WILLEMSTAD, Curaçao — Thousands of languages spoken by small numbers of people, including many of the Creole languages born in the last centuries of human history, are facing extinction. But a little-known language spoken on a handful of islands near the coast of Venezuela may be an exception. Read more: Willemstad Journal - A Language Thrives in Its Caribbean Home - NYTimes.com
06 December 2010
22 November 2010
16 November 2010
10 November 2010
26 October 2010
BATATA Y SU RUMBA PALENQUERA -ATAOLE -LIVE IN PARIS- FEAT RIGO STAR & SI...
Paulino Salgado Valdez (Batata), singer, composer and drummer: born San Basilio de Palenque, Colombia 1929; (eight children); died Bogotá 24 January 2004. Batata was a singer, songwriter and master drummer - the last of the Salgado Valdez dynasty of drummers.
They traced their ancestry back four centuries to Benkos Bioho, the former African king who escaped from the slave port of Cartagena with 10 others and founded San Basilio de Palenque, the legendary "village of the Cimarróns". In 1713 it became "the first free village in the Americas" when the King of Spain gave up sending his troops on futile missions to attack their fortified mountain hideaway.
Known to his friends as "la guanabana" (after a type of fruit), and as "Batata the third", he became steeped in the lumbalú drumming rituals handed down by his father and grandfather, both also nicknamed Batata. In 1961 Batata left his hometown in search of work, initially finding it in a café in the coastal city of Baranquilla.
By the end of the decade he was working as a builder and playing in local groups when the singer and folklorist Totó La Momposina first heard him perform. She soon invited him to work with her and took him to live with her family in Bogotá. She recalls that his contribution to her music was enormous:
At the time that I met him, I knew the bailes cantaos ["sung dances"] of my region, which are of Indian origin mixed with the African and Spanish. But when I came to know Batata's culture, it was a black tradition, and San Basilio de Palenque was one of the first villages where I worked in my exploration and study of traditional music on the Caribbean coast of Colombia.
From the late 1970s onwards, Batata accompanied Totó and her group on international tours. They began with a long sojourn in the Soviet Union and then France, which they used as a base to tour Europe for several years in the early 1980s. They famously performed in Stockholm in 1982 when the Colombian author Gabriel García Márquez received the Nobel Prize for literature.
Batata's drumming, voice and songs (of which he is said to have composed around 300) have appeared on most of Totó's albums, including La Candela Viva (1993), Carmelina (1996) and Pacantó (1999). However, by 1996 she had reluctantly ceased using him for international tours after drinking binges got the better of him once too often.
But he continued to play with her group whenever they toured Colombia and is fondly remembered as a hardworking, kindly, humorous and loyal man (as well as a notorious womaniser). The manager and producer John Hollis, who has worked with Totó's band for many years, found his absence showed. He said:
He had an incredible touch as a drummer - the sound was profound yet sensitive. He could draw heavy bass tones from deep down in the drum, yet at the same time would coax lighter harmonics from the skin.
Back in Palenque in 1997, Batata met the Colombian film-maker and producer Lucas Silva, who included him in his documentary Sons of Benkos (2000). The two worked for five years on Batata's début solo album Radio Bakongo, which combined Palenque roots music with the influence of the urban Afro- Colombian style champeta criolla and made the link with their African origins by including contributions from various Paris-based Congolese musicians. On its release in 2003, it was immediately listed by Songlines magazine among their "50 world music albums you must own".
Unfortunately, financial problems forced the cancellation of a European tour planned for last summer, and Batata was admitted to hospital in Bogotá in December, later suffering a stroke. As Lucas Silva notes: "The biggest shame is that he died when he was about to make a success. For me Batata was like a Colombian John Lee Hooker or Beny Moré - really a big master
From his facebook page : http://www.facebook.com/pages/Paulino-Sa lgado-Valdez-Batata/57135874244?v=info
They traced their ancestry back four centuries to Benkos Bioho, the former African king who escaped from the slave port of Cartagena with 10 others and founded San Basilio de Palenque, the legendary "village of the Cimarróns". In 1713 it became "the first free village in the Americas" when the King of Spain gave up sending his troops on futile missions to attack their fortified mountain hideaway.
Known to his friends as "la guanabana" (after a type of fruit), and as "Batata the third", he became steeped in the lumbalú drumming rituals handed down by his father and grandfather, both also nicknamed Batata. In 1961 Batata left his hometown in search of work, initially finding it in a café in the coastal city of Baranquilla.
By the end of the decade he was working as a builder and playing in local groups when the singer and folklorist Totó La Momposina first heard him perform. She soon invited him to work with her and took him to live with her family in Bogotá. She recalls that his contribution to her music was enormous:
At the time that I met him, I knew the bailes cantaos ["sung dances"] of my region, which are of Indian origin mixed with the African and Spanish. But when I came to know Batata's culture, it was a black tradition, and San Basilio de Palenque was one of the first villages where I worked in my exploration and study of traditional music on the Caribbean coast of Colombia.
From the late 1970s onwards, Batata accompanied Totó and her group on international tours. They began with a long sojourn in the Soviet Union and then France, which they used as a base to tour Europe for several years in the early 1980s. They famously performed in Stockholm in 1982 when the Colombian author Gabriel García Márquez received the Nobel Prize for literature.
Batata's drumming, voice and songs (of which he is said to have composed around 300) have appeared on most of Totó's albums, including La Candela Viva (1993), Carmelina (1996) and Pacantó (1999). However, by 1996 she had reluctantly ceased using him for international tours after drinking binges got the better of him once too often.
But he continued to play with her group whenever they toured Colombia and is fondly remembered as a hardworking, kindly, humorous and loyal man (as well as a notorious womaniser). The manager and producer John Hollis, who has worked with Totó's band for many years, found his absence showed. He said:
He had an incredible touch as a drummer - the sound was profound yet sensitive. He could draw heavy bass tones from deep down in the drum, yet at the same time would coax lighter harmonics from the skin.
Back in Palenque in 1997, Batata met the Colombian film-maker and producer Lucas Silva, who included him in his documentary Sons of Benkos (2000). The two worked for five years on Batata's début solo album Radio Bakongo, which combined Palenque roots music with the influence of the urban Afro- Colombian style champeta criolla and made the link with their African origins by including contributions from various Paris-based Congolese musicians. On its release in 2003, it was immediately listed by Songlines magazine among their "50 world music albums you must own".
Unfortunately, financial problems forced the cancellation of a European tour planned for last summer, and Batata was admitted to hospital in Bogotá in December, later suffering a stroke. As Lucas Silva notes: "The biggest shame is that he died when he was about to make a success. For me Batata was like a Colombian John Lee Hooker or Beny Moré - really a big master
From his facebook page : http://www.facebook.com/pages/Paulino-Sa
19 October 2010
Oswin Chin Behilia - Zikinza
One of our greatest troubadours urging the People to wake up and mature.
He sounds like a parent admonishing his child : "Just go on drinking and
wasting your time at parties. Just go on and see where you will end."
18 October 2010
Emotional independence.
Out of the margins , into the light...
Free of limiting thoughts and toxic relationships...
This state of independence SHALL BE ♥
Free of limiting thoughts and toxic relationships...
This state of independence SHALL BE ♥
(painting: ...y el amor se perdió entre las reglas que nos impone la sociedad..; oils on canvas, 2004)
26 September 2010
This being human is a guest house
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honourably.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honourably.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
- Mowlana Jalaluddin Rumi
13 September 2010
Lagami traha un poesia purá. M'a lanta poeta awe (niet met de "oe" van koe).
Chubatu Shimaron!
Mi nò gusta kurá di Shon!
Den kurá nan ta alababu,
Papia dushi, karisiabu,
Pa despé nan kapabu!
Rough translation:
Feral goat,
I despise the yard
where they praise you,
and caress you
while they castrate you.
31 August 2010
Mundu Yama Sinta Mira
You heard what, about who, yesterday? Are you sure, it really happened that way? I cannot believe I am hearing this, are you sure it happened to Julie's sis? Oh, what you mean you never saw for sure? What, Peggy-Sue came knocking on your door, she got a call from Billy-Joe My God, does Johnny Quaker know? I truly cannot believe it is that way Oh, what, it was written in a toilet wall? Trust me, of course you know you can, I promise I will not even tell my man I would never repeat a word you say, you know gossip only starts, that way by Peta S. Cameron source: http://www.helium.com/items/984749-poetr |
20 August 2010
Short and sweet
Pick me up
In your arms.
Paradise,
Here I come...
(painting: The Kiss #1, oils on canvas, 60x91cm, 2003)
17 August 2010
We've got Visit!
TROPICAL PARADISE
The warm wind blows once again.
The trees, they sway, I'm home again.
The birds sing their melody.
The wind passes through the reeds.
The sunsets brighter, then I knew.
All my thoughts roll back to you.
Tides of water come up so high.
Stars go on forever in the night.
See them dance along the shore.
But nothing is, as it was before.
There is beauty all abound.
The circle turns and comes around.
Forgotten times do here begin.
I turn the page, to start again.
Another chapter within paradise.
I'm walking open with my eyes.
To all the beauty that senses touch.
Need to live and live as such.
I'd like to show you where I've been.
For it is me inside the wind.
Searching for you, so you may see.
All of these things are inside of me.
The warm wind blows once again.
The trees they sway, I'm home again.
by John Prockner
Source: http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewPoet ry.asp?id=120631
The warm wind blows once again.
The trees, they sway, I'm home again.
The birds sing their melody.
The wind passes through the reeds.
The sunsets brighter, then I knew.
All my thoughts roll back to you.
Tides of water come up so high.
Stars go on forever in the night.
See them dance along the shore.
But nothing is, as it was before.
There is beauty all abound.
The circle turns and comes around.
Forgotten times do here begin.
I turn the page, to start again.
Another chapter within paradise.
I'm walking open with my eyes.
To all the beauty that senses touch.
Need to live and live as such.
I'd like to show you where I've been.
For it is me inside the wind.
Searching for you, so you may see.
All of these things are inside of me.
The warm wind blows once again.
The trees they sway, I'm home again.
by John Prockner
Source: http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewPoet
13 August 2010
Grupo Serenada
Foundation
The musical group Serenada was formed in 1975, when a rock band merged with a youth church choir. From the outset the group has enthusiastically explored the boundaries of the local music of Curaçao, experimenting with voice harmonization, rhythms and musical styles, while always aiming to preserve the essence of the local tradition and folklore. The group of ten dedicated amateurs spends a great deal of time to the rescue of forgotten papiamentu songs, striving to safeguard the colorful musical heritage of the island with its typical lively rhythms and cheerful songs.
Line-up
Over time Serenada developed its own unique style. "A cappella" songs form an essential part of the group's repertoire, where the members try to mimic the basic elements of instruments and rhythms with words or vocal sounds. Other songs are accompanied by string instruments, such as guitar, double bass, mandolin and cuatro, percussion and traditional instruments like the benta (African bow), the barí, the tambú grandi, the hoe, the horn and the metal guiro.
Merites
During its 27 years existence, the group has represented the island of Curaçao and the Netherlands Antilles in Aruba, Bonaire, Trinidad and Tobago, Venezuela, the Netherlands and Cuba. At home, in addition to countless performances during festive activities, private celebrations, and festivals, the group has participated in most official cultural acts. To name a few, Serenada performed for the ambassadors of the European Union, for the monarchs of the Dutch kingdom, in the international Jazz festival of Curaçao and the celebration commemorating 350 years of the Jewish community in Curaçao.
Recordings
In all, the group produced nine albums exposing on each one a variety of traditional standards, as well as new compositions in our national language, papiamentu. Discography
Jan Erasmusstraat 9
Curaçao
Netherlands Antilles
Direction
For his dedicated work with Serenada, the current musical director, Henri Moen, received the ‘Colá Debrot’ prize, the most prestigious tribute awarded by the government of Curaçao for outstanding cultural achievement.
Source : http://www.gruposerenada.com/bio/bio.html
Overpowered By Red
What is Red?
Red is a sunset
Blazing and bright.
Red is feeling brave
With all your might.
Red is a sunburn
A spot on your nose.
Sometimes red, is a red red rose.
Red squiggles out when you cut your hand.
Red is a brick
And the sounds of a band.
Red is hotness
You get inside
When you’re embarrassed
And want to hide.
Fire-cracker, fire-engine
Fire-flicker red –
And when you’re angry
Red runs through your head.
Red is an Indian
A Valentine heart,
The trimmings on
A circus cart.
Red is a lipstick
Red is a shout
Red is a signal
That says, “Watch out!”
Red is a great big
Rubber ball.
Red is the giant-est
Colour of all.
Red is a show-off,
No doubt about it –
But can you imagine
Living without it?
Red is feeling brave
With all your might.
Red is a sunburn
A spot on your nose.
Sometimes red, is a red red rose.
Red squiggles out when you cut your hand.
Red is a brick
And the sounds of a band.
Red is hotness
You get inside
When you’re embarrassed
And want to hide.
Fire-cracker, fire-engine
Fire-flicker red –
And when you’re angry
Red runs through your head.
Red is an Indian
A Valentine heart,
The trimmings on
A circus cart.
Red is a lipstick
Red is a shout
Red is a signal
That says, “Watch out!”
Red is a great big
Rubber ball.
Red is the giant-est
Colour of all.
Red is a show-off,
No doubt about it –
But can you imagine
Living without it?
Author: unknown
08 August 2010
Painters paint. Whether they sell or not ,they paint. They are moved by the song of the birds, the dance of the waves, the caress of the wind. Painters paint. They are in love with the light and the shadow. Intoxicated by color. Painters paint. They make love with passion. Celebrate their heartaches with abandon. Nothing matters as long as the paint flows and the brushes dance. Painters paint. They paint the blues away, they paint a new tomorrow, a possible past, a powerful present, a fantastic future. Painters paint. I'm a painter. I paint.... What's your excuse ?
(Photo: Rodney Victoria )
(Photo: Rodney Victoria )
25 July 2010
In your light...
"In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art."
— Mawlana Jalal-al-Din Rumi
— Mawlana Jalal-al-Din Rumi
24 July 2010
20 July 2010
Twin Flames #2
Tropical Meditations
Crazy Island , I visited you this year for the first time. I stayed only a week.
Why can't I get you out of my mind?
Why can't I get you out of my mind?
08 June 2010
18 May 2010
One long weekend two paintings.
Fascinated With Red; oils on canvas, May 2010.
A small painting (20x25 cm). Painted in
about 4 hours.
Caribbean Prana; oils on canvas, May 2010
Prana (प्राण, prāṇa) is the Sanskrit for "vital life" (from the root prā "to fill", cognate to Latin plenus "full"). It is one of the five organs of vitality or sensation, viz. prana "breath", vac "speech", caksus "sight", shrotra "hearing", and manas "thought" (nose, mouth, eyes, ears and mind; ChUp. 2.7.1).
In Vedantic philosophy, prana is the notion of a vital, life-sustaining force of living beings and vital energy, comparable to the Chinese notion of Qi (Ch'i) . Prana is a central concept in Ayurveda and Yoga where it is believed to flow through a network of fine subtle channels called nadis. Its most subtle material form is the breath, but is also to be found in blood, and its most concentrated form is semen in men and vaginal fluid in women. (From Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prana)
Keep your damned oily hands off my sea...
A small painting (20x25 cm). Painted in
about 4 hours.
Caribbean Prana; oils on canvas, May 2010
Prana (प्राण, prāṇa) is the Sanskrit for "vital life" (from the root prā "to fill", cognate to Latin plenus "full"). It is one of the five organs of vitality or sensation, viz. prana "breath", vac "speech", caksus "sight", shrotra "hearing", and manas "thought" (nose, mouth, eyes, ears and mind; ChUp. 2.7.1).
In Vedantic philosophy, prana is the notion of a vital, life-sustaining force of living beings and vital energy, comparable to the Chinese notion of Qi (Ch'i) . Prana is a central concept in Ayurveda and Yoga where it is believed to flow through a network of fine subtle channels called nadis. Its most subtle material form is the breath, but is also to be found in blood, and its most concentrated form is semen in men and vaginal fluid in women. (From Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prana)
Keep your damned oily hands off my sea...
07 May 2010
16 February 2010
21 January 2010
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