On Saturday evening, we watched a documentary about Jonny Greenwood making an album of music influenced by the tones and brass sounds of Rajasthan. Released in 2015 (Anderson, 2015). The film shows Greenwood and his collaborators creating an album of music from initial sketches put together by the two Western musicians. The album is now almost notorious for the participation of Shye Ben-Tzur, an Israeli musician. In the period since 2015, Greenwood and Ben-Tzur toured and played music from the album. However, the persistent belligerence of the Israeli government has rendered this collaboration fruitless.
The film includes the sequence where the bands go off and buy themselves outfits for a ceremonial photograph. The brass section all wear a white uniform with a terracotta turban. Other members of the band appeared to buy clothes that match their normal outfits. The two Western musicians sit in the second row, mixed in, wearing similar dark shirts as if they’ve been smuggled surreptitiously into a wedding band.
The film displays ego in an interesting manner. The producer uses a microphone stand to show away a pigeon who persistently roosts on a baffle suspended from the ceiling. Ben-Tzur appears to be the lead composer, playing flute and guitar, teaching the lines to be sung in several of the pieces, and playing more on his own. Greenwood sits at the back, his Gibson manipulating sound on a MacBook. Capturing snippets of the recording and playing the back out as rhythm pans but then inspires or at least shapes the subsequent jam with all the band joining in. It feels organic. The pieces seem to flow easily. The brass section trades solos and builds deep chords to shape songs initially composed on guitar. Very early on, I start to realise how jealous I am of the musicians. The skill is apparent, that their joy is equally important, and the music they conjure is revelatory. The fort hosting the event and subsequently placed the venue for a music festival is intimidating. High on the hills above the city, this is a citadel of colonialism, forging the town as a Panopticon. The music transcends the suppressing significance and elevates the space into something truly transcendent. Music is a phenomenal power; at the close of the film I am struck by its absence.
Anderson, 2015. Junun. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt4995590
