Music Masters and Rhythm Kings Essay

It is a rare opportunity to witness masters of the old tradition relishing in their element: sweat on their foreheads as beats and strings pulsate the story of a past almost forgotten. It is a gift if one is fortunate enough to see them live, but seeing them and hearing their music on the limited capacity of film is still a treasure, much like watching some of the best keepers of old time Southern music in Peggy Bulger and Melissa Shepard Sykes’ film Music Masters and Rhythm Kings. We review musicians Eddie Kirkland, Neal Pattman, Homer â€Å"Pappy† Sherill and the Hired Hands, and Florencio Baro as they recount the origins of their music and how they have come to imbibe it. Southern music is essentially an amalgam of two musical cultures combined despite a clash of ideals and beliefs, and despite centuries of oppression and dispute. As Charles Joyner, a Southern Culture historian mentions in the film, it is impossible for the Southern peoples not to be influenced by the culture of another race, especially if they are so ingrained in their society. Though these people might argue against these relations, there is no denying the immense influence of African culture in the language, the mannerisms, and especially, the music of the South. History dictates that traditional South American music finds its roots in the harsh working fields. Pappy Sherill phrases this perfectly when he says that these farmers do â€Å"as a way of putting joy to themselves [sic] while they’re working. † At the same time, Southern music also represented the subversive culture of the African slaves. Their music became their way of expression because they knew that the â€Å"white man can have no control†. Bringing their own kind of musical tradition from their homeland, they created a new one that came to represent and signal the changing dynamics of the American South. In the film, we see Pappy Sherill and the Hired Hands, one of the few old-time string bands that play actively in the South. Their music embodies the respite that Southern farmers crave after a day of toiling under the hot sun. It is a fast-paced jig that consists of music from a fiddle, a guitar, a banjo, and a cello, all coming together in an energetic symphony of strings. Pulling it all together is Sherill, who at a very ripe age still remains as one of the best fiddle players in the country. Folklorist Glenn Hinson defines his playing as propelled by advanced technique that harkens back to the days when fiddlers made their instruments cry and sing. Playing professionally since he was thirteen years old, Sherill was a prodigy who created music despite financial setbacks. He only owned a proper wooden fiddle when he managed to save money from a side job, and only after using a tin fiddle for some time. In 1976, Sherill won the award for Best Old-Time Fiddler in the National Fiddlers Championship, opening doors for him to play in many road show and concerts. But, when Pappy sang and played out of joy, Eddie Kirkland and Neal Pattman sang the sonorous, highly emotional tunes of the blues. Eddie Kirkland grew up harvesting cotton, and during the production of the film had once again stepped foot in the cotton fields. Drawing back to memories of those hardships, Eddie remembers doing this grinding, back-breaking work as a child. It was only the â€Å"field hollers, work songs†¦ and spirituals† of the African-American people that pushed them to go on. Arising from this work songs were the Blues, a uniquely Southern music that Kirkland loves so dear. As we can hear from the film, Kirkland’s music is derived from years of toil and work, echoing a time of inequality and hardship. He describes it as â€Å"heart-wrenching Blues. † And so it is, with the soft, poignant, yet irregular riffs of his guitar accompanied by his soulful voice, we feel sadness and desperation. But, he goes beyond this by also singing songs of love following the Blues format. It is a rare opportunity to hear the Blues as it could’ve been played at the beginning of the 19th century, in the backwaters of the rural South. Also reminiscent of Kirkland is Neal Pattman, a maestro of the blues harp, who also rose from the working fields. His music, as any Blues music would be, touches the heart and with his harp he creates an even more wrenching elegy. We follow the flow of his music as it rises and stops, as he accompanies it with his voice. We listen and we are transplanted back into the days of old when the whiteness of the cotton fields is an unwanted sight. Hailing from further South is Cuban musician Florencio Baro. A singer and percussionist, his music remains a pure representation of his African heritage. His songs are sung in his ancestors’ native African language that as a child he has learned to understand and to appreciate. Much like South American music, his music as a combination of two cultures brought together despite odds. Historically, his music arises from the spiritual cult of Santoria, a religion established by African slaves brought to Cuba. What started out as spiritual hymns as a way to once again reconnect with their distant land, is now heard as Afro-Cuban music. It is played with an energetic combination of African percussions and Cuban guitars. In Baro’s hands, the music achieves a life of its own. The beats throb as Baro’s voice sing of the woes of the African slave, weaving itself in and out of the notes, all in a way that is dramatically hypnotic. And entranced the audience were as they glimpse at this fragment of the past that, unfortunately, seldom reaches the majority’s ears. These men represent a bygone era of music that is formed when culture clash and are forced to combine. But, in retrospect, what we are singing of now and what our music is today, all boils down to the undying pursuit of expression that these men have achieved.