Three Exceptional Female Musicians at Strathmore

Over the past month, I've had the privilege of attending performances by three remarkable female artists who graced the stage at the Music Center at Strathmore, situated in North Bethesda, Maryland. What made these experiences even more delightful was that each artist brought her unique cultural background to the forefront, adding depth and diversity to the music they shared.

The first of these performances, on September 29, featured the Paris-based Malian singer-guitarist, Fatoumata Diawara. Her show was a masterpiece, beginning with subtle, nuanced songs, transitioning into hauntingly beautiful melodies, and culminating in a spirited, unforgettable finale. What stood out was the international composition of her band, with members hailing from different corners of the globe – keyboards, guitar, bass, drums – each contributing their exceptional talents. In particular, the rapport between the bassist and the drummer was remarkable. Regrettably, I wasn't able to catch the names of all the band members, nor could I locate them afterward. The sole African in the group was the Cameroonian drummer; the rest were of different backgrounds, adding a unique flavor to the performance. Fatoumata herself showcased her guitar skills during about half of the set, delivering skillful solos in the Afropop style, which contrasted distinctly with the band's Brazilian guitarist. Notably, Fatoumata has proudly declared herself as the "first female solo electric guitar player in Mali," although I suspect she could expand that distinction beyond the geographical boundaries of her native country.

Most of Fatoumata's lyrics are sung in Bambara, her native language. While I couldn't grasp the meaning of her words, I've learned that her songs draw from her region's tradition of "songs of advice" and tackle various social and political issues, from female circumcision to the rise of fundamentalist Islam in the Sahel. Her powerful yet beautiful voice was captivating. Moreover, it was refreshing to hear her speak between songs, touching on African themes and the challenges faced by women, without venturing into the realms of intersectionality or gender fluidity that are so common topics in today's discourse.

The performance reached its climax as the leader donned a traditional Malian mask and engaged in exuberant, controlled movements, presumably rooted in Malian tradition. The show's conclusion transformed into a dance celebration, with several women invited to join the band on stage. The entire audience couldn't help but join in the festivities.

On October 6, the Music Center once again attracted a large crowd, this time for Anoushka Shankar's performance. While Fatoumata Diawara had drawn a significant African presence, this evening witnessed a substantial South Asian audience. The pre-show atmosphere was enriched by an art exhibition featuring works by local Indian artists. As always, the bars on two levels of the concert hall were bustling, creating a lively ambiance. On the orchestra level, a DJ played soft Asian-influenced music, accompanied by a lone white woman confidently dancing to the rhythm.

Anoushka's music, while equally emotionally charged, had a more subdued quality compared to her African counterpart. The musicians performed seated on stage, bathed in a soft ellipse of light within the otherwise dim concert hall. The Music Center is known for its exceptional acoustics, which enhanced this highly nuanced performance. Anoushka, daughter of the legendary sitar virtuoso Ravi Shankar (and half-sister of Norah Jones), who also mentored her in her formative years, proved herself as a phenomenal sitar player. Her repertoire extended beyond the boundaries of classic Indian music, revealing clear influences of jazz, all while maintaining its foundation in Indian classical music.

The London-based ensemble, featuring Arun Ghosh on clarinet, Sarathy Korwar on Western drums, Pirashanna Tevarajah on Indian percussion, and Tom Farmer on double bass, showcased their mastery of both musical traditions. This quintet had premiered in India in December 2022 and received acclaim as one of Anoushka Shankar's most exceptional lineups over her nearly three-decade-long career. Each member displayed virtuosity, creating exquisite moods in intense jams as well as in meditative pieces. I do have to highlight Arun Ghosh, whoes clarinet performance was particularly outstanding—perhaps the best I’ve ever heard live—with moments of soaring brilliance and mournful resonance.

Anecdotes and insights provided by the leader added a personal touch to the evening. Anoushka mentioned that it was Sarathy Korwar's birthday, and, interestingly, he had been born in Bethesda but had never returned since infancy. Throughout the performance, the camaraderie among the musicians was palpable, and Anoushka's brief remarks between tunes conveyed her genuine warmth.

Although there was no dancing during this concert, it culminated in a standing ovation, indicating the audience's appreciation. I had hoped to greet the star and purchase a signed copy of her new mini-album, but by the time I reached the lobby, the line had grown so long that I decided to forgo it and head straight to the subway.

Nearly two weeks later, on October 19, it was time to experience Hiromi's Sonicwonder. The Grammy-winning Japanese pianist and composer was on tour to promote her recently released album, which shared the same name. In Japan, she goes by her full name, Hiromi Uehara, but in the West, her first name is sufficient, making her distinct from other artists. The band she led was another tight-knit ensemble of four incredible musicians, with the bassist Hadrien Feraud occupying a central role. The Frenchman's skillful play on the 5-string bass guitar seamlessly complemented Hiromi's performance. The drummer, Gene Coye, played a pivotal role in maintaining the rhythm. His marked the third performance by an exceptional drummer in this series of concerts, all of whom were previously unfamiliar to me.

What stood out for me was the trumpeter, Adam O'Farrill, whose melodic and expressive playing brought a calming element to the energetic repertoire. His broad sound and judicious phrasing added depth to the performance.

Hiromi showcased her incredible piano skills during the concert, alternating between the grand piano and two smaller electronic keyboards, sometimes playing them simultaneously. Her technical prowess as a pianist is truly remarkable. The majority of the pieces played were up-tempo, with frantic bursts and lightning-speed runs by the piano-bass-drums trio, which at times left me somewhat exhausted. Consequently for me, the highlight of the evening was the solo piano rendition of the Beatles' "Blackbird" that Hiromi performed as the first encore. This was no ordinary folk interpretation; Hiromi, a highly physical player, used both hands to expand the harmonies into new dimensions. It was a nuanced and sensitive rendition of the classic pop song. The band returned for a final performance, leaving the audience in awe. Sonic wonder, indeed!

These three concerts unequivocally demonstrated that creative music is alive and well around the world. The performances by these three incredible women, from Mali, India, and Japan, brought together extraordinary international ensembles, uniting musicians of diverse backgrounds and talents to create music firmly rooted in tradition, yet offering a fresh and unprecedented musical experience. 

On the trains: America has a lot to learn from abroad

The train sped through the rice paddies that shone intense green in the bright sunshine. Some of the paddies seemed already be turning yellow, somewhat early for the season in the beginning of August. Behind the fields rose the Ōu mountain range that separates the central valley of Iwate from the Sanriku coast. It was a hot, clear day but thick white and black clouds were lingering over the mountains. We were heading north towards the highest peak in the range: Mt. Iwate that reaches 2,038 meters above sea level and is the tallest mountain in the northern part of Japan’s main island, Honshu.

This was a local train with just a few cars, with seats arranged on the sides facing the center aisle, subway style. We could see the conductor standing behind the glass in his cabin at the front of the train. Beyond him, we saw the tracks opening ahead of us. The train was quite crowded on this Sunday afternoon. High school kids, boys in soccer uniforms, old people dozing off, middle-aged women with shopping bags. Two pairs of young people were wearing beautiful cotton yukatas that looked cool in the hot afternoon. I was the only gaijin – foreigner – on the train, which we had caught at the station in Mizusawa, my wife’s hometown, about 70km south of the prefectural capital of Morioka. While we waited at the Mizusawa station, tens of nambu furin wind chimes provided a lovely soundtrack in the light breeze. The Japanese Ministry of Environment has designated Mizusawa station as one of the 100 Soundscapes of Japan.

The train ran smoothly, reaching high speeds between the stops. The stops were rather frequent: not just the bigger centers of Kitakami and Hanamaki, but numerous smaller places: Kanegasaki, Rokuhara, and others. A few passengers were traveling with suitcases, heading to the Hanamaki regional airport, which in addition to domestic airports serves international destinations in Taiwan and Shanghai. Due to the frequent stops, the trip to Morioka took over an hour. We could have taken the shinkansen bullet train, which would have been much faster – the elevated shinkansen tracks run more or less parallel to the local train tracks – but would then have missed the pleasure of slower travel at ground level. Traveling on these local trains in Japan is to me a distinct pleasure. It gives meaning to the tired old saying, attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson: It’s not the destination. It’s the journey.

It is also such a joy to see that these local train lines are doing well and are in heavy use. They are carefully maintained and widely used by a variety of people. Apart from the bullet train and the local train line, there’s an superb highway – the Tohoku Expressway – that connects all these places. Yet, because of the excellent and affordable public transportation options, not that many people feel the need to jump into their own car. Consequently, the highway is not excessively crowded. Why bother driving yourself when you can just jump on a train and enjoy the scenery?

Despite my love for the local trains, I do appreciate the shinkansen as well. The bullet trains are, well, fast, smooth, reliable, and environmentally sound. It impresses me that the ride is so even that you can leave your drink unattended on the tray while the speed approaches or exceeds 300 km/h. The trains run so punctually that you can literally check your watch based on when the train departs. There is not even half a minute’s deviation from schedules (unlike in the US, where Amtrak staff only start thinking about getting the train ready a few minutes after the scheduled time). A couple of weeks ago we took the Yamabiko shinkansen from Tokyo to MizusawaEsashi, a trip of 500 km, which takes just over 2.5 hours.

Last April, I had the pleasure of taking the Nozomi shinkansen from Tokyo to Japan’s second city, Osaka, in the west of the country. That trip runs just below Mt. Fuji, Japan’s tallest at 3,776 meters. The iconic mountain boasts a perfectly symmetric cone rising close to the sea at Suruga Bay. Admiring the handsome landscape as we sped by it, I remembered years ago hiking to the top. It took several hours and, despite some additional oxygen, gave me a splitting headache. However, staying overnight on the summit was definitely worth it for the gorgeous sunrise over the Pacific Ocean. It’s easy to understand where Japan got its moniker as the Land of the Rising Sun.

These types of train are not the only ones in Japan. All major cities have functioning subways, and in many places – from Tokyo to Osaka to Naha in Okinawa – there are convenient and comfortable monorails running on elevated tracks connecting the cities to their airports. All rails in the country are, naturally, electrified, another major difference with the US. Of the Amtrak network, only the Northeast corridor, running from Washington, DC, to Boston, passing through Baltimore, Philadelphia and New York City, runs fully on electricity. The rest still relies on diesel and thus contributes to pollution and climate change.

The US situation is globally the exception. Countries from Europe to China have clean and efficient high-speed trains. As it happens, this year has allowed me to experience several of them. In May, I rode the Frecciarossa, which connects the north of Italy to the south, from Turin to Salerno. That train can reach even higher speeds, up to 360 km/h. I only took it from Rome to Florence to see a friend there. In July, while in Finland, I rode the intercity train from Helsinki to the second city of Tampere to visit another old friend. He had advised me to pay a few euro extra to reserve a seat on the second floor, which I did and could thus enjoy the scenery in quiet comfort (that is, until I descended to the restaurant car and joined a crowd of cheerful fellow travelers for a cold beer). The return to Helsinki was on an Italian-made Pendolino train, which is used in more than a dozen countries across Europe, as well as in China and some routes in the US.

Continuing from my native country to Switzerland, I landed in Zurich and had to travel to the capital, Bern, where I was to teach a three-day workshop hosted by the university. Naturally, I took the train. On the way back, there was an unfortunate delay due to an obstacle on the tracks, which forced the train to divert. The operators apologized profusely for the 6-minute delay in our arrival to Zurich.

This to me is the normal state of affairs. Virtually all developed countries have invested in high-speed electric rail networks. They are fast, safe, and environmentally sound. Only the US lags behind. Amtrak is losing money, with only the Northeast corridor operating on a profit. The ticket prices are exorbitant, making the train trip from, say, the national capital to New York City a luxury that is beyond the reach of many travelers. While the Acela trains would be capable of traveling at high speed, the state of the old rails prevents it from doing so, thus rendering the trip much slower than necessary – not to mention unreliable with frequent delays. As much of freight in the US moves by rail, the freight trains get the right of way, forcing the passenger trains wait for their passing.

Lack of basic services, such as reserved seats, even in business class, makes the boarding process into a mad rush, a deficiency that could so easily be remedied. (I do have to admit that there have been significant improvements to the boarding process at New York’s Penn Station, which I could experience early in the year.)

In addition, there are occasional derailments that give the perception that train travel is not safe. A recent poll showed that a majority of Americans think that traveling by private car is the safest mode of transportation, which obviously is far from truth, statistically. Still, derailments do happen and give Amtrak a bad rap. Recent ones include a derailment in Missouri in June 2022 and in Montana in September 2021, both of which resulted in loss of life. Add to that accidents, such as the February 2023 Ohio tanker train derailment in East Palestine close to the border to Pennsylvania, which spilled over 115,000 gallons of highly toxic and flammable vinyl chloride, it’s no wonder many Americans are suspicious of train traffic.

California, arguably the most progressive state in the union, has worked on a high-speed rail link between Los Angeles and San Francisco since the $33 billion project was approved in 2008. It was supposed to be completed in 2022, but is nowhere near there. The cost overruns are staggering. The latest estimates have placed the real cost to $113 billion. According to the New York Times, the difficulties have been mostly due to political compromises that have sent the tracks through various diversions through difficult, geologically complex, and costly routes in the mountainous and earthquake-prone area. With the costs escalating and the heavy delays holding back progress, political and public support to the project is flagging.

There are many explanations and excuses why rail traffic doesn’t catch on in USA. The above-mentioned difficulties with efficiency, cost, safety, and perceptions certainly all are important. There is also the issue of long distances. However, Europe is large, as well: it’s 3,300 km from Stockholm to Madrid, for example, or about the same distance as from Chicago to San Francisco. Distances in China are also long: about 2,300 km from Shanghai on the coast to Kunming in the Southwest. Americans take flying as a basic human right. But with the mess the airline traffic finds itself – frequent delays and cancelations, onerous security checks, crowded planes, poor service, unruly passengers – one would think that other alternatives would appeal to travelers. But for most people, the alternative that comes to mind is driving, even if it takes hours and sometimes days on crowded highways with aggressive drivers. Supposedly, this reflects the deep rooted individualistic on-the-road culture of Americans.

Then there’s the politics. In general, American politics from the Federal through State and local levels is highly contentious and polarized, making it hard to pass any major legislation involving costly investment. The general position, especially on the right, is that public investments – even as so much of infrastructure is crumbling – is unaffordable, as it would require raising the taxes for the rich. And, in particular, public transport smacks of socialism. In this atmosphere, making the needed investments for improving – and electrifying – the rail network would not be an easy task. The good news is that the $1.2 trillion Bipartisan Infrastructure Bill passed in 2021 does include $102 billion to improve rail infrastructure over the 2022-2026 fiscal years. It remains to be seen how far this will reach. But you have to start somewhere.