A world waiting

for string band?

Music is not the province of a few professionals in Vanuatu it is something people generally make for themselves. There are string bands in almost every vil

lage, performing songs written

by the local people. The music is popular, and the songs reflect, in the immediacy of their lyrics, their grassroots origins.

“Taem mi wok abaot long Vila, mi lukim plante bikbik haos Mo stoa blong waet man long Vila taon Taem mi luk long pablik rod, mi lukim plante truk i ron Samting ia i mekem mi sip

raes tumas.’’ (Noisy Boys,

First Tour of Vila).

But for all the general self reliance in the matter of enter tainment, one highly successful overseas band has managed to capture the attention of even re mote villages, with a mixture of

professionalism and genuine par

ticipation in their own music.

This is the Black Brothers, tem porarily in Vanuatu before begin ning a Pacific tour. The group, originally from West Irian though Hengky Mirontoneng (lead vocals/guitar) and Jochie

Pattipeiluhu (vocals/keyboard)

are of Celeban and Moluccan parentage, respectively have been performing not only in the larger urban areas,,Port-Vila and Santo, but on the more rural islands, such as Malekula.

The group was formed in Jay apura in 1974, and after moving to Jakarta in 1976 became one of

the top three groups in the coun try, selling over a million copies of each cassette released, and

winning golden records and

trophies as evidence of their

popularity. This all changed

when the Black Brothers decided to tour Port Moresby in 1979.

Their music, with its strong flavor of Melanesian rhythms, and their traditional West Irian ese costumes, stirred feelings of across-the-border brotherhood amongst Papua New Guineans, and also gained the group a fol lowing amongst West Irianese refugees. It wasn’t the reaction the Indonesian Government had anticipated, and their displeasure was perhaps more marked be cause of it. Indonesia’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs wrote cancel

ling the group’s permission to

tour and a copy of the letter was sent to BAKIN, Indonesia’s internal security force. The group decided not to return to Indonesia they sought and

received political asylum in

Holland.

Their career was launched again in 1982, after two years waiting for work permits. They produced two records and won a contract with EMI Records Hol land. But they felt that the Pacif ic, and in particular Melanesia, was closer to home, and as soon as they had travel documents they came to Vanuatu, in time for the third independence an niversary celebrations this year.

They gave their first public con cert at Port-Vila’s Stade, draw ing a crowd of over 2500, and have followed it up with a series

of indoor concerts and perform ances as a dance band at the

lorana nightclub.

Their music has been an eye opener for Vanuatu musicians. It is explorative as well as enter

taining, taking each instrument,

and much of their material, to their limits, as they test capabilities and reshape rhythms.

Benny Betay, for example, gives a series of almost elegant elab orations of musical themes on bass guitar Agust Rumwaro pen’s sustained solo in “Sum mertime” stretches and embel lishes Gershwin’s original.

But if Vanuatu’s musicians have been assessing Black Brothers’ music, the compliment is returned. They take a keen interest in string band music, and some songs from their PNG days, such as “Wan Pela Meri” or “Nogat mani (nogat kaikai)”, show this influence. Manager

Andy Ayamiseba, pondering the

appeal of string band music, noted: “It’s all over Melanesia.

In my country there’s Mam besak, a string student band . . . they’ve got the same instru ments, the same basic sound. It’s a unique sound . . . you only get it in Melanesia.” The Black Brothers see string band music as eminently marketable, on an in ternational scale, and compare it with reggae in its origins and

style.

There is much in common it is popular music, genuinely springing from the people. Vil lage bands, sometimes formed especially for the occasion, will play until daylight for big inter village dances. Fatuana band, one of the biggest and most popular, began as such a band, in a village on the southern island of Futuna. Schools, churches and clubs will all form bands for occasions as required. Bands

have been formed from political

origins Noisy Boys, from

Tanna, began as a fund-raising effort for the People’s Provision al Government set up by Vanuaaku Party in 1977. Even so, and unlike reggae, the music is seldom concerned with politic al controversy. The bands lend themselves to communication of ideas, but at the moment the ideas are generally part of ac

cepted social and agricultural

wisdom: “Nambawan economic i mekem yu yu rich tumas, Bambae i kam wan bikfela expot long Vanuatu Hernia nao economic inde

pendence yumi lukaot . . .

Koffee!” (Fatuana, Koffee, Koffee Project). and are used frequently by the government as part of its prog rams of community education for example to introduce the new vatu currency in 1982.

The music is a medium for the expression of a strong national ism. The band Mother Hubbard named themselves after the usual women’s dress, adapted from the old mission dresses, and their theme song “Mother Hubbard emi nembawan” was lauding is land-style living as much as their own music. Huarere, a group from Pentecost, expressed the national pride in South Seas Champion boxer, Philip Rating; “Oh Kating, yu yes, yu no makas, Yu winim plante ovasis champion Mo mekem gud nius long Vanuatu ...”

Women’s groups, in particu lar, seem ready to move be yond this to sharp social observa

Report from Vanuatu Julie-Ann Ellis

vation.Fatuana Girls gave as their first number at the 1981 National String Band Competi tion “Tin Fis mo Raes”, a wry and knowing expression of the futility sensed by workers in Port-Vila, living at a lower stan dard than those in the village.

The same group the next year offered commentary on urban

unemployment.

‘ 7 fulap man tedei, i no gat job long taon.

Yu askem job olbaot, but no . . . but no . . .”

But for the directly political, flinging themselves headlong in to controversy, probably no band could beat the children’s group, Fatuana Sisi, with their blunt approach to a Pacific-wide problem:

“Yumi mas joen long ol narafala kaontri Agenst nuclear testing we France i mekem.

Life is more important than powerful bombs! . . .

Oh please, please, please Franis, no mas testem bomb In all, the Black Brothers’ comparison of string band music

with reggae has some justifica tion. The music is changing and developing Black Brothers themselves are bound to be an influence on it and the next few years could see this region of the Pacific become important musically in the way both the Caribbean and the American Deep South have been in their time. Julie-Ann Ellis.