Jazz: When the mind is free from fear and ego

An interview with Abdullah Ibrahim has nothing to do with an ordinary question and answer game. The pianist from Cape Town only answers indirectly when you want to talk to him about his new album “3”. He gives aphorisms and short anecdotes. And puts on a kind smile.

The Duke Ellington student, the man who wrote an anthem of the apartheid resistance, the artist who knew how to mix South African folklore and US gospel like no other – is he still composing songs today, at the age of almost 90? Ibrahim, sitting in his room wearing a hat and scarf, gives a clear answer for once: “No, the song writes me! Ladies and gentlemen, I refuse to write a song!” He leans towards the laptop camera and chuckles with laughter. “The song says, ‘Hey, sit down, listen.’ He comes in his sleep and says: ‘Wake up!’ There are no routines. It’s just a joy.«

You can hear the pleasure the South African feels while composing. A wide variety of cultures have influenced his art. In the 60s he lived in Switzerland. Later, Duke Ellington helped him make his first recordings and brought him to the USA. As a result, bebop, blues and gospel flowed into Ibrahim’s songs, always with an unmistakable touch of South African idioms: sunny, sing-along melodies of crystal-clear beauty. In the 70s they helped him achieve world fame.

All of this can also be heard on “3”, the new trio album that Abdullah Ibrahim recorded live in London with Cleave Guyton Jr. on various flutes and double bass player Noah Jackson in the summer of 2023. The transverse flute glides gracefully through “Dreamtime,” and the bass solo sounds calm in John Coltrane’s “Giant Steps.” The bandleader himself embarks on a meditative sound journey in two 15-minute improvisations, alone at the piano. The pianist sounds most moving in the first part, which was recorded in the Barbican Hall in the afternoon, without an audience. The noise of an old tape machine: The band plays the classic “Mindif”. A bowed bass that can only be heard very delicately, plus a sensitive flute solo. Ibrahim’s wings seem to sigh with happiness.

The evening concert ends like all of Ibrahim’s performances: with an encore without a microphone. Ibrahim calls it a “trance mission” when he stands at the edge of the stage with his eyes closed and a hand on his cheek. Without his instrument, he sings in a shaky voice: “When I came back to the land I was born, there was no one to welcome me home.”

“I’m not doing this because I have a message,” explains Ibrahim in the Zoom call. »As musicians, our first instrument is our voice. We are the keepers of history, like the griots of West Africa. The song talks about struggles and misfortunes and how we overcome these things. It’s about a lost home.”

It was the cruel time of South African apartheid that deprived Abdullah Ibrahim of his homeland for 30 years. Musicians were particularly under surveillance in the murderous regime. From 1960 onwards, blacks were no longer allowed to work with white musicians; Jazz was no longer played on the radio.

The pianist went to Zurich with his band. He later moved his life to New York City. He only stayed in South Africa for a short time in the 1970s – and during his stay there he composed the ultimate anti-apartheid song. “Mannenberg” was considered a kind of unofficial national anthem by the black population of South Africa. Nelson Mandela is said to have later described Ibrahim as “South Africa’s Mozart”.

Born on October 9, 1934, Adolphe Brand’s career began in the bebop band he founded with Hugh Masekela: the Jazz Epistles. He trained his left hand by playing boogie-woogie. The pianist quickly got rid of his nickname. The teenager in Cape Town in the 1950s was called “Dollar” because he immediately passed on every hard-earned note to the US sailors in the South African port city – who supplied him with the coveted jazz records.

After Duke Ellington discovered his Dollar Brand Trio in the “Africana Club” in Zurich, they went to the USA. Trumpeter Don Cherry helped the South African get a room at the Chelsea Hotel, a sought-after artist hotspot. Brand was able to study at the New York conservatory Juilliard School on a scholarship. But he rarely stayed in one place for long. In 1968 he converted to Islam, called himself Abdullah Ibrahim and made a pilgrimage to Mecca. It wasn’t until the 1990s that he moved back to the Cape permanently.

The pianist has lived in Bavaria since 2012. The reason is his girlfriend Marina Amuri – the doctor has a practice in tranquil Chiemgau. What does he like about the village of Aschau not far from Lake Chiemsee? Ibrahim elaborates: »In Africa I lived in the townships and I was almost always outside. In the desert! This is the essence of life. We have imposed many problems on ourselves; we close ourselves off from nature. It’s fantastic here at Chiemsee because we enjoy the peculiarities of the seasons. We just saw the first cherry blossoms! In Japanese culture, this is a sign of the fleeting nature of life: they come and go.”

Abdullah Ibrahim could be the ancient Morla from the “Neverending Story” incarnate. You ask this wrinkled, wise turtle for advice and then spend weeks wondering what the answer means. Ibrahim knows how to convey to his conversation partner in a friendly way that they don’t actually know anything. He, who has studied Zen Buddhism and Far Eastern martial arts, explains the Japanese term “mushin” in detail. »It means: the moment you think about something, it has already disappeared. Mushin will help you. Your mind is free of fear and ego.«

Abdullah Ibrahim only gives selected concerts. He doesn’t travel much anymore, but he’s still busy. The live recording “3” was released at the end of January, and an album with a quartet will follow next. Big band and orchestral works are planned.

Is he still doing exercises on the piano? Ibrahim smiles: »It’s not important to practice. You try to perfect something that you can’t perfect. The piano is just an instrument.«

Abdullah Ibrahim: »3« (Gearbox)