Postcard of Pitcairn Island post office, dating to the 1940s. Public domain.

I’ve chosen this recording of the week to celebrate World Post day, which marks the anniversary of the creation of the Universal Postal Union. The Union was established to create and maintain a postal system for the free flow of mail around the world, enabling global communication by connecting faraway places.

There’s no better collection to illustrate that than the John Kenrick Ellis Collection. This consists of 11 open-reel message tapes sent from Pitcairn Island – a rugged and isolated volcanic outcrop in the southern Pacific Ocean, and one of the most remote civilian communities on the planet. The messages were recorded in the late 1950s by Roy Palmer Clark, the post-master of the island. His friend John Kenrick Ellis, residing in California, had sent him an open reel tape recorder so that they may record and post messages, and hear each other’s voices over the vast distance.

Roy Palmer Clark grew up in San Francisco, and travelled to Pitcairn Island in 1909 with his father. At the time of these recordings, the island had 142 inhabitants. The majority of this small community directly descends from a group of 18th-century settlers: nine British mutineers from the HMS Bounty and 17 Tahitian women and men (plus a baby girl) who in 1790 sought refuge in this isolated location.

Whilst his father later returned to America, Roy stayed to raise a family on the island. He served for a time as a teacher at the school, and a head elder in the church, eventually becoming the very first post-master in 1940. In October 1940 the very first Pitcairn Island stamps were issued, and in 1941 a small post office was established in main square of the island, Adamstown. In 1957 the post-master deemed it necessary to expand, and a new post office, which is still used today, was built in the early 1960s.

Many of the recordings in this collection describe living conditions on the island, and notable events - such as someone being injured by a falling mango, or a supposedly-shipwrecked man on a nearby uninhabited island. In amongst these news updates there are descriptions of what it’s like to run the postal service in such a remote and isolated location.

The only way mail to the island can be delivered and collected is via passing ships – to this day the island has no landing strip. In the 1950s, this was by passenger and cargo ships travelling from New Zealand to England, run by the New Zealand Shipping Company. The RMS Rangitiki, as mentioned in these reels, stopped off at Pitcairn Island for a 2 hour pit stop to break the monotony of the long crossing, also allowing islanders to trade goods and souvenirs with passengers.  In this clip Roy Palmer Clark recounts how poor weather affected the landing of the Rangitiki – you really get a sense of how important this event was to the isolated community.

Listen to Roy Palmer Clark describe the visit from RMS Rangitiki

Download Transcript of Roy Palmer Clark describing the visit from the RMS Rangitiki

RMS Rangitiki post-1957 refit. Public domain. 

The establishment of the postal service not only brought about a consistent route for post, but it also created an important revenue stream through the sale of stamps. This was the main impetus of the British government, who at that time wanted colonies to be self-sufficient. The organisation overseeing the manufacture and distribution of postage stamps to Pitcairn was known as the Crown Agents for Oversea Governments and Administrations. The British Library hold important proofs and artwork from this organisation in the Crown Agents Philatelic and Security Printing Archives.

This clip includes a description of a mistake in a stamp, which Roy presumed would be withdrawn and therefore more valuable!

Listen to Roy Palmer Clark talk about the error in the 4d stamp

Download Transcript of Roy Palmer Clark talking about the error in the 4d stamp

Proof of the Pitcairn Islands 1957-1963 Definitive Issue 4d stamp titled ‘Pitcairn School’, approved 28 September 1956.

 

Proof of the Pitcairn Islands 1957-1963 Definitive Issue 4d stamp titled ‘Pitcairn School House, ’approved 6 December 1957.

 

Proof of the Pitcairn Islands 1957-1963 Definitive Issue 4d stamp titled ‘Schoolteacher’s House,’ approved 28 January 1958.

The particular stamps he refers to in the recording are the type one and two 4d stamps of the Pitcairn Islands, 2 July 1957-1963 Definitive Issue. Designed and manufactured by Thomas De La Rue and Company using a recess printing process, these images from the Crown Agents Philatelic and Security Printing Archive Proof Boxes within the British Library’s Philatelic Collections reveal the confusion surrounding an accurate title for the stamp vignette.

The recording of Roy Palmer Clark is from August 1957 – it would take another few months before the proof was updated and then a few more until it was finally correct on the third attempt. What might seem like small editorial infelicities to some were very noteworthy events for the post-master. Stamps issued by Pitcairn Island were very popular for collectors, and profits from their sale supported the island’s regular costs – among them constructing a school and hiring a professional teacher from New Zealand. At one point sales of stamps accounted for a massive two thirds of the island’s entire revenue.

If you’d like to listen to more details of events on Pitcairn Island the full recording of the audio message, and the full collection are both available online.

More details about the Crown Agents Philatelic and Security Printing Archives can be sought from the Philatelic collection.

Today’s selection comes from Fiona Stubbings, Web Sounds Producer.

What can you see and hear on the upper ground floor of the Library? If you find yourself by the gallery outside the King’s Library, you will discover our Listening Desk, a cross between a gramophone horn, a desk, and a touch screen. This sound sculpture, and others around the country, are a legacy of Unlocking Our Sound Heritage (UOSH), our five-year project supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund to restore and catalogue rare and at-risk sounds.

The Listening Desk at the British Library.

How does it work? By sitting down at the desk, you will be able to interact with a touch screen application. This contains a playlist of clips for you to scroll through from recordings digitised by UOSH. Then it is up to you to remix and listen to these sounds in new ways by composing your own soundscapes using a sound sequencer with an intuitive interface. The big red horn encloses a sound-shower speaker, keeping the sound directed to the seated listener for an immersive experience that minimises any sound-leakage into the surrounding area.

The Listening Desk touch screen.

The fun design for the desks was inspired by historic listening devices and was conceived by the artist Emily Peasgood. She created them in collaboration with designers from Studio Ben Allen and the software designer Jim Hall of Happylander.

Emily wanted sound from the archives to become more accessible, and for the desk’s users to engage with sound in a fun, playful, and educational way. She hopes people will be both amazed and inspired to learn more about sound. She adds:

Sound is a gateway to our imagination. We can picture how things might have been, through the medium of sound, in a way that is uniquely individual, but often with surprising accuracy. Sound can tell us about history: the machinery around at the time, how our accents have changed, the way we dress, travel, behave, the technology that was used to record it, the shape of a space. Sound can tell us infinite things. It is exciting and can transport us to a different space and time.

The Listening Desk at the Library is one of ten that can be found across the UK, from Northern Ireland to Norfolk. The other nine desks can be found at UOSH’s local partner hubs, all the desks look the same, but each one features a distinct locally relevant playlist with recordings digitised as part of the project. The network of Listening Desks will continue UOSH’s legacy by opening up the UK's sounds for everyone.

Eoin O’Cearnaigh, Network Partnership Manager, says:

These desks let visitors engage playfully and creatively with clips curated from sound recordings digitised by Unlocking our Sound Heritage. In doing so, they aim to increase awareness of these recordings and to encourage more widespread appreciation of our sound heritage, as something that requires ongoing preservation.

The current playlist on the desk at the Library showcases a selection of sound recordings from wildlife collections held at the Library. This was curated by Greg Green, who also worked on UOSH as a cataloguer. Listen to the sound of stormy Islay below for a taste.

Listen to stormy Islay

If you have not explored sounds at the Library before now, the Listening Desk is a fun and accessible way to dip your toe into the collections. Next time you walk past the gallery on the upper ground floor, take a moment to sit down and compose your own soundscape. Get creative and make some noise with clips sampling everything from fairgrounds to foghorns.

Article written by Katerina Webb-Bourne and Charlotte Wardley

Today's selection comes from Emmeline Ledgerwood, Discovering Science website co-ordinator.

Sixty years ago, on 1 Oct 1963, the then Labour party leader, Harold Wilson, delivered his famous ‘white heat’ speech at the Labour party conference in Scarborough. In this speech he outlined the party’s plans to harness a ‘scientific revolution’ to modernise British industry and drive economic progress: “the Britain that is going to be forged in the white heat of this revolution will be no place for restrictive practices or for outdated methods on either side of industry.”

The speech’s rhetoric – linking planning, socialism and science – has been described as one that ‘caught the mood of the moment’ after 12 years of Conservative government. Many of the ideas that influenced the proposals put forward in this speech had been developed by left-wing scientists after the Second World War. The Labour party went on to win the next general election a year later in October 1964.

In this extract from the speech, Wilson articulates the country’s need for scientists and what was to be expected from them.

Listen to an extract from Harold Wilson’s speech at the 1963 Scarborough conference

Download transcript of an extract from Harold Wilson’s speech at the 1963 Scarborough conference

Wilson declared that “to train the scientists we are going to need will mean revolution in our attitude to education.” He emphasised the party’s commitment to comprehensive education and expanding access to higher education including the establishment of a ‘university of the air’ – the Open University came into being in 1969.

We are in familiar territory with Wilson’s presentation of science and scientists as being fundamental to improving the nation’s economic performance. Earlier this year the UK Government announced its own plans to channel scientific and technological expertise to grow the UK economy. Wilson also voiced concerns that resonate with current debates about the role of AI in society today: “If man is not going to assert his control over machines, the machines are going to assert their control over man.” Whether the year is 1963 or 2023, listening back this speech reminds us that society and politicians are continually balancing the promises and challenges of scientific advancement.

The full speech is available to listen to in the British Library Reading Rooms.

Further reading

David Horner, ‘The Road to Scarborough: Wilson, Labour and the Scientific Revolution’ in R. Coopey et al. (eds), The Wilson Governments 1964-1970 (Pinter Publishers, 1993), pp. 48–71.

David Edgerton, The Rise and Fall of the British Nation: A Twentieth-Century History (Allen Lane, 2018).

The Sıbızğı Recordings from Northern Xinjiang Collection (British Library ref: C1960) includes digital copies of several home-made cassettes, radio interviews, and film soundtracks from northern Xinjiang, documenting the repertoire of the bi-phonic, end-blown flute sıbızğı (also: sybyzghy), played among Kerey (also: Kereit or Kerei) Kazakhs. The collection contains more than eight hours of music and folk narratives, 309 recording pieces in total. Historically, the sıbızğı was played by eloquent Kazakh orators, often village leaders, at anniversaries, celebrations, and discussions of village affairs. Each sıbızğı melody relates to a unique folktale, of ancient warriors, modern rebel heroes, animals and hunters, birds, orphans, and famous poets of the Kazakhs. Geographically, the sıbızğı tradition is performed primarily in modern-day Xinjiang and western Mongolia. Most Kazakhs in this region trace their ancestors to the Orta Cüz (Middle Horde) group, and the majority of sıbızğı players, though by no means all, are Kerey Kazakhs, whose clans, families, and villages share cultural memory through performance and recordings of the sıbızğı repertoire.

Above: A map of sıbızğı sound collections in Xinjiang. The collections document performances by musicians in northern Xinjiang, including the regions of Altay, Qumul, and Erenqabırğa, a strip region from Sauan to Urumchi.

The origin

According to oral literature, the sıbızğı was created by shepherds while grazing, making a múñlı (sad, melancholy, or sorrowful) sound, which has a pronounced difference from the ‘cheerful’ sound produced by the dombıra (dombyra). Some folktales take the following form:

During a time of many hardships for the Kazakhs of the steppes, a cruel bay (rich lord) sent two orphans to watch over a flock of sheep and protect them from wolves, threatening to beat them if they failed in their task. One day, the younger boy thought he heard the howl of a wolf and drove the sheep to a new location. Over several days he heard the howl again and again, until he realised that the sound was not a wolf after all, in fact it was the wind blowing through hollyhock reeds that had been eaten by the sheep. Plucking one from the ground, he began to blow into it, putting his fingers over the various holes in the stem to change its pitch. One night, the other boy heard this strange new sound and asked, 'Are you crying?' The younger shepherd boy replied, 'No, I am playing a melodious voice.' Since that day, the boys began playing the hollyhock reeds together, creating new sounds. Later, the practice spread to the people, and the hollyhock came to be called 'sızılğı'. Over time, folk intellectuals adapted the reeds with two, three and four holes to make new sounds, and this came to be called sıbızğı.

While found in hardly any written, published sources, such origin stories about the sıbızğı are abundant among the community of sıbızğı players and their listeners. Most of the folktales refer to the Syr River region as an important place in the origin of the sıbızğı, partially because of the legend of Qorqıt Ata (Grandfather Qorqıt; Korkut Dede in Turkish), a famous poet, philosopher, epic chanter, and a high-ranking baqsı (shaman) in both the historical Turkic world and folk literature. Qorqıt Ata was born in the 8th century AD in the Syr River region and served as the prime minister of five khanates in his lifetime. According to The Book of Qorqit Ata, a compilation of oral literature, Qorqıt and the Prophet Muhammad lived at the same time, and the Kazakh national instrument – the qobız – was invented by Qorqıt, who also left a large number of mythological musical accounts to the later Kazakh nation.

Listening example 1

'Qorqıttıñ Küyi' (The Tune of Qorqıt), performed by Tölegen Qúndaqbay-úlı. There are a few sıbızğı pieces that depict the life of Qorqıt, and many sıbızğı players believe Qorqıt is also the inventor of sıbızğı.

Listening example 2

'Aqsaq Qúlan Cosığan' (The Crippled Red Horse Is Running), performed by Mansur Böreke-úlı.

The complexity of the stories about the early mythological history of the sıbızğı indicates a diverse and cross-regional array of folklore throughout Xinjiang and Central Asia. Sıbızğı tunes often feature folk tales with relatively concrete historical accounts up to the era of Ghengis Khan in the 12th century, also highlighting the shared cultural roots of residents in the Altaic region – merged tribes of Kazakhs and Mongols. For example, 'Aqsaq Qúlan' (Crippled Red Horse) presents a tragic, but philosophical, story of the Mongolian Khan and his son: Genghis Khan loved his son Jöchi, so much so that he ordained that anyone who brought news of the boy’s death to him would have their head filled with lead. One day, the poet Ketquba had a nightmare of Jöchi tumbling from his horse and dying, a vision that proved to be correct. To inform the Khan, Ketquba played his dombıra, making a sound like a galloping horse. Upon hearing the song, Genghis Khan trembled and wept, asking, 'Why does this song make me feel so sad, as if it heralds the news of Jöchi’s death?' The poet put down his dombıra and explained the story of Jöchi’s death in a poem. The Khan was ready to kill Ketquba in the manner he had ordained, until the poet countered: 'It was not I, but the dombıra who told you of your son’s death through sound.' True to his word, the Khan filled the dombıra with lead. In modern-day Kazakh legend, this is how the dombıra got its soundhole.

Throughout the history of the Kazakh nation, there have always been individuals combining the roles of philosopher, poet, and musician, and the same applies to sıbızğı performers. The first widely recognised sıbızğı master was Asan Qayğı Sábyt-úlı, a famous 14th-century Kazakh philosopher, aqın (poet), cırau (folk singer), by (debater and judge), and prophet. He served as an important minister of the Golden Horde and the Kazakh Khanate. According to the sources, Asan Qayğı worried about all matters concerning the life of the Kazakhs, from personal disputes to clan affairs. He rode a celmaya (white camel) all his life, in search of a cerúyiq (paradise), rich in water and plants and free from feuds and inequality.

During the Ablay Khan era in the 18th century, the skilful sıbızğı tradition became highly developed in the Syr River region. Berdiqoja was a famous sıbızğı player of this age, who served the Khan by playing tunes about historical heroes and their martial exploits. In the 19th century, Cılqışı Ahtan-úlı was a well-known sıbızğı master, and later performers called him the Sıbızğı Piri (The Angel of the Sıbızğı). Cılqışı was the first to have the mixed role of sıbızğı master and by, and was highly respected in solving village affairs through gatherings that featured the playing of the sıbızğı. In early 20th-century Altay, there were four prominent bys who are still venerated by contemporary sıbızğı masters, among whom Bensenbi was better known as a composer on dombıra and sıbızğı.

Contemporary practices

Until the later 20th century, any gathering including sıbızğı playing was also regarded with reverence, rather than viewed as normal entertainment. Carole Pegg (1991), writes of the necessity 'for every Kazak family to own one (sıbızğı) and to keep it in a respected place, even if they could not play' (p. 75). In any gatherings where the flute is present, storytelling, mainly in question-and-answer form, and sıbızğı playing function as one, addressing topics of history, social justice, and important public initiatives. Even today, cyın (gatherings or assemblies) and toy (parties) are still important parts of collective life within a Kazakh clan. In such events, talking and discussing issues are major activities, while music-making can serve either as an interlude to such discussions, or sometimes as the central focus.

In recent times, playing dombıra and singing án (folksongs) have become more popular, and the role of the sıbızğırole has diminished, yet historically the sıbızğı played an essential role, and continues to represent a significant cultural memory for Kerey Kazakhs. The use of the sıbızğı to control a crowd’s mood through music, or influence the atmosphere of a gathering during a moment of musical storytelling, is a deeply embedded historical practice that for many Kazakh musicians represents a more ‘true’ vision of Kazakh culture than the dombıra.

Prof. Talğat Múqışov of the National Conservatory of Kazakhstan offers the following explanation of the instrument’s historical development in Kazakhstan: before Kazakhstan’s independence in 1991, the sıbızğı was not as popular as now. In 1934, during the Soviet era, the Symphony Orchestra of Qurmangazi was established in the city of Almaty, and the flute replaced other wind instruments, including the ‘unfortunate’ sıbızğı. At that time, musical instruments that could not fully represent the spirit of the entire Soviet people would not be considered 'qualified musical instruments'. A 'real instrument' was one that could play any kind of music in a symphony orchestra. As the sıbızğı only plays Kazakh music, it was regarded as a mere 'national musical instrument' that could only be played on limited stages. According to Múqışov, the sıbızğı currently represents the true 'Kazakh spirit' that has been driving the enthusiasm of the participants in the region’s 'new folk music' (Múqışov 2016).

Above: Sıbızğı player Nığımet Qabdolla-úlı in his home in Qútıby County, date unspecified.

Above: Sıbızğı player Qúttıbay Sıdıq-úlı in a public assembly, 5 May 2002.

Above: Students playing sıbızğı, Qútıby County, 2014. Photo by Xiaoshi Wei. 

Recordings

Since the 1960s, the sıbızğı has been recorded for radio, mainly on open-reel tapes, the first ever medium to capture and preserve the sound of the sıbızğı. Due to the high acoustic fidelity of open-reel tape and to the diffusion of radio, recording artists began to be viewed with respect and to gain higher status across Xinjiang. In the early days of the radio network, artists who were played on radio, e.g., Qoşanay and Tölegen, were held in particularly high regard.

Since the 1980s, the rise of cassettes has given people a more personal connection to their recorded music, with greater autonomy over their use of the medium itself. Because of the compactness of the cassette machine, the sıbızğı community started to believe this was more advanced technology. In village life, being recorded, similarly to being photographed, became seen as an ‘advanced’ act. People began to make personalised programs on cassette to document sıbızğı gatherings, creating playlists with the music in their preferred order. Recording is also an act that can strengthen ties between clan members: events involving the sıbızğı frequently include discussion of migration history, forging strong relationships between performers within the same clans. At parties or gatherings where old friends and relatives reunite after a long time, people play songs and talk about their shared relatives who were lost along the way. Sıbızğı players would intentionally play tunes about the journey of life. Lengthy spoken introductions before each tune talk about those who were lost, and the act of recording helps to preserve these interpersonal moments.

Since the 2000s, historical recordings of the sıbızğı began to appear on VCD (Compact Disc Digital Video) and on the internet. At present, the younger generation can access performances by their fathers’ contemporaries from mobile phones and computer screens. Although the traditional large gatherings that centre on sıbızğı performance have begun to diminish, the historical recordings still function as a means to pass down the music.

Above: Sıbızğı player Mansur Böreke-úlı.

Above: A family cassette tape of performance by Mansur Böreke-úlı.

Above: A family cassette of performances by Tölegen Qúndaqbay-úlı.

Above: Múhamet Áubákir-úlı in a recording session with Urumchi-based sıbızğı players Beyilqan Qalyakbar-úlı and Qúsman Maqmırza, date unspecified.

Above: VCD of the documentary film Máñgilik Sarın: Qútby Öñiriniñ Sıbızğı Táryhi (Eternal Melody: History of the Sıbızğı in the Qútby Region), 2007.

Listening example 3

'Marğabıldıñ Qara Qasqa Atınıñ Şabısı - Bastapqı Şabısı' (The Running Posture of Marğabıl’s Horse - Beginning), performed by Nığımet Qabdolla-úlı.

This tune portrays a historical horse-racing gathering among the Kerey and Nayman tribes of Xinjiang Kazakhs. It highlights the historical rivalry between the two tribes and the sense of prideful superiority the Kerey feel over the Nayman, a sentiment that still prevails among Kerey cultural insiders, even those who live hundreds or thousands of miles from their homelands.

Above: The poster of the publication Ripples: Historical Recordings of Sıbızğı, with written text in Kazakh (in both Cyrillic and Arabic alphabets), Chinese and English.

Recovering home cassettes

Starting in 2013, Prof. Xiao Mei at the Shanghai Conservatory of Music has been financially supporting my initiative to collect and document a large number of homemade cassette recordings of sıbızğı performance. With the goal of creating an archival package containing interviews, audio recordings, and edited texts, I conducted fieldwork in Altay, Qútıby, Urumchi, Şiñgil, and Qumul, gaining access to several individuals’ private recordings. At the individuals’ homes, I also created digital copies of their private cassettes; more than 400 recordings of sıbızğı tunes were collected from families in northern Xinjiang, allowing researchers to examine the repertoire, content, and stories behind the music in unprecedented scope. The Sıbızğı Recordings from Northern Xinjiang Collection, now deposited at the British Library, displays the significance of Kazakh musical heritage, documenting a way of life that is rapidly changing and helping to preserve an image of longstanding traditional musical practice, capturing performances by masters of the sıbızğı who have since passed away.

This post was written by Dr Xiaoshi Wei, Newton International Fellow at SOAS University.

Reference

Pegg, Carole. 1991. 'The Revival of Ethnic and Cultural Identity in West Mongolia: the Altai Uriangkhai Tsuur, Tuvan Shuur and Kazakh Sybyzgy'. Journal of the Anglo-Mongolian Society, 12 (1-2): p. 71.

Múqışov, Talğat. Interview. Conducted by Qahar Erbol, 24 May 2016.

Núsúltan Núrahmet-úlı. Múratqan Bybyrál-úlı, and Örken Qaydar-úlı. 2007. Mañgilik Sarın: Qútıby Öñiriniñ Sıbızğı Táryhi (永恒的旋律：呼图壁地区斯布孜额介绍, 'Eternal Melody: History of Sıbızğı in the Qútıby Region'). Şyncyañ Dıbıs-Beyne Baspası (新疆音像出版社).

Various Artists. 2023 (forthcoming). Ripples: Historical Recordings of Sıbızğı in Xinjiang (Толқын: Сыбызғы үнінің тарихы, 波浪：斯布孜额历史录音). Recordings compiled and liner notes written by Xiaoshi Wei.

Photo of the inside of Maze Prison, licensed under CC BY 2.0.

The clips for this Recording of the Week come from Pat Sheehan’s 2019 interview in the Voices of Our National Health Service collection.

The 3rd October 2023 marks thirty-two years since the end of the 1981 hunger strikes at Maze Prison in Northern Ireland (also known as Long Kesh). These hunger strikes began when Bobby Sands refused food on 1st March 1981. The hunger strikers were on strike in demand of the reintroduction of special category status for Irish Republican prisoners (a status that had been removed by the British Government in 1976).

Pat Sheehan was twenty-three when he began hunger strike on 10th August 1981 and survived on just water and a small daily amount of salt for fifty-five days. In the first clip that I’ve selected, he talks about his rapidly deteriorating health in the last few days on hunger strike, as well as his mental determination to see the strike through.

Listen to Pat Sheehan describe his 1981 hunger strike

Download Transcript of Pat Sheehan interviewed by Stephanie Snow clip 1

In this next extract, Sheehan talks about how some of the strikers’ parents authorised medical intervention and the impact that this had on the effectiveness of the strike. The clip provides a rare insight into the discussions going on amongst the hunger strikers at the time, and their commitment to their protest.

Listen to Pat Sheehan describe medical intervention

Download Transcript of Pat Sheehan interviewed by Stephanie Snow clip 2

Sheehan explains that the hunger strikers were examined every day by a doctor, their weight was taken and blood pressure checked. I imagine it must have been extremely difficult for the doctors to have to stand back and witness the hunger strikers’ deteriorating health, unable to act and going against the very basics of healthcare. By contrast I can only imagine the relief of the doctors and nurses at being able to treat the strikers and do their job when the strike came to an end.

Pat Sheehan’s interview is just one of over 1300 oral history interviews in the Voices of Our National Health Service collection, which collects testimonies of healthcare across the UK. In the rest of the interview, Sheehan describes the healthcare he received in hospital once the strike had ended, his later experiences as Sinn Féin’s spokesperson on health and his interactions with the health service in Northern Ireland when his late wife Siobhán O’Hanlon was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2002.

Listen to the full interview at British Library sounds. The interview can also be found in the Sound and Moving Image catalogue by searching C1887/686.

This Recording of the Week was selected by Hannah Tame, Oral History Cataloguer: Tony Benn Audio Visual Archive. 

In March 2022 a full set of digital copies of recordings of ‘Damara-Nama’ musics now archived in the British Library was returned to the Indigenous rights holders in Sesfontein, north-west Namibia. These recordings were made in 1999 by French ethnomusicologist Emmanuelle Olivier, assisted by the late Minette Mans, an ethnomusicology professor at the University of Namibia.

In 2015 they were brought from France to the UK by ethnomusicologist Angela Impey (School of Oriental and African Studies, London). They are archived at the British Library as part of the Emmanuelle Olivier Collection, which contains field recordings made between 1993 and 2001 among several hunter-gatherer and pastoralist peoples living in or near the Kalahari Desert Basin.

The collection mostly focuses on the musical repertoires of Ju|’hoansi, but also features ‘Damara-Nama’, Himba, Ovambo, Ndonga, Kwanyama, Haiǁom and Kxoe musics and songs. Catalogued under collection number C1709, the Olivier collection can be browsed in the Sound and Moving Image Catalogue, and a selection of the Ju|’hoansi and ‘Damara-Nama’ recordings can be streamed through the British Library Sounds website.

Sesfontein is a long-established settlement –now with municipality status– located close to the Hoanib River in Namibia’s Kunene Region. Historically it has been home to dynamic populations of Khoekhoegowab¹ -speaking Damara / ǂNūkhoen² , Nama and ǁUbun³ , as well as otjiHerero-speaking ovaHimba and ovaHerero. Olivier’s recordings focused on the musical repertoire of Khoekhoegowab-speakers in this community.

Above: Google map showing the locations of Sesfontein and the Hoanib River in Namibia. 

Above: Looking east over the settlement of Sesfontein in 1995. The large building in the foreground is a German fort built in the early 1900s to consolidate colonial control, following a major regional uprising involving especially (but not only) Nama members of the Sesfontein community. Renovated in the 1980s under Gaob (King) Justus ǁGaroëb’s direction as the then leader of the Damaraland Regional Authority, the fort is now a high-end tourism lodge developed in the 1990s by investors in Germany –currently under renegotiation with the Sesfontein community. The settlement has expanded greatly over the last two decades. Photo copyright © Sian Sullivan 1995.

As outlined below, the recordings made in Sesfontein represent the five key musical repertoires of this community:

1. flute music (ǂā), a Khoe / Nama musical form on the cusp of extinction;
2. Damara / ǂNūkhoe / ǁUbu praise songs (|gais);
3. Damara / ǂNūkhoe / ǁUbu healing songs (arus);
4. bow songs (!gomakhās), a Damara / ǂNūkhoe and ǁUbu musical form rarely played today;
5. Nama-stap, a contemporary Nama music played here on guitar with music composed by Sesfontein resident Jonathan |Awarab.

These musical styles and repertoires are interconnected; they share histories and rights holders and exist in close relationship with each other.

Only one rights holder is named in Olivier’s documentation, but many more are identifiable from the images accompanying the collection. Indeed, the broader community of rights holders in Sesfontein is well known since they and their families and descendants are members of the Hoanib Cultural Group, which continues to play many of the specific |gais and arus songs included in the recordings, as clarified in research over the last few years. For example, the 2020 film The Music Returns to Kai-as, made in collaboration with Sesfontein’s Hoanib Cultural Group and the Nami-Daman Traditional Authority, confirms that a number of the specific |gais and arus songs recorded by Olivier and Mans continue to be curated and played by the group today.

For more information, please see the pdf format booklet for the 2017/2019 Future Pasts exhibition 'Landscape, Memory and Music in West Namibia' and our article 'The Music Returns to Kai-as’ – a film by Future Pasts'.

These performers, their relatives and descendants hold the copyright to the songs and musical performances recorded in the Olivier collection. The Hoanib Cultural Group includes some present members who were recorded in 1999, as well as the descendants and relatives of musicians who have since passed on. The intangible cultural heritage of the five recorded music styles is also part of the jurisdiction of the formally recognised Nami-Daman Traditional Authority (TA), for which Fredrick ǁHawaxab is the Secretary.

Return

The return of copies of these recordings to identified rights holders, their descendants and the broader community of knowledge holders is the outcome of a lengthy process of negotiation. The main parties are the British Library, which digitised and archived the collection, and the Nami-Daman TA based in Sesfontein. The process has been assisted by the lead author of this article who has carried out research in the area since 1992.

Every step in what turned out to be a complex process was carried out in close communication with the Secretary of the Nami-Daman TA, Mr Fredrick ǁHawaxab. It has been shaped by a mixture of delight that the recordings have been tracked down and digitised, and frustration that what was understood in 1999 as an agreement that copies of the recordings would be returned had not previously been acted upon.

This context made the eventual return of the recordings in 2022 significant. The image below shows the moment of transferring the digital files to Fredrick ǁHawaxab’s laptop. It was especially fitting that the files were transferred in this way, given that Fredrick was the translator and facilitator for the original Sesfontein research by Emmanuelle Olivier and Minette Mans. It is Fredrick who has consistently pressed for return of the recordings, as per the terms of the original research agreement.

Above: Mr Fredrick ǁHawaxab, secretary of the Nami-Daman Traditional Authority and facilitator and translator for Emmanuelle Olivier’s 1999 research in Sesfontein, receives digital copies of Olivier’s Sesfontein recordings from the British Library, delivered to Sesfontein by Sian Sullivan. Photo copyright © Sian Sullivan, 15 March 2022.

Shortly after this transfer, an initial meeting was held with members of the Hoanib Cultural Group, in which the recordings were formally handed over. This meeting included individuals whose performances are part of the original recordings.

For example, Jacobus ǁHoëb, who leads the |gais and arus recordings, can be seen wearing a red jacket in the front row of seated community members in the image below. Jacobus continues to be recognised in Sesfontein as the ‘king of the |gais’ for his commitment to keeping the |gais songs alive and for his leadership of the Hoanib Cultural Group. Several other performers recorded in the |gais and arus sections of the Olivier collection were also present, as was Jonathan ‘Fritz’ |Awarab, the guitar player and lead singer in the Nama-stap recordings (pictured fourth from the right in the second row of the audience in the image below).

Above: The return of the Olivier’s Sesfontein recordings is officially celebrated with members of the Hoanib Cultural Group and their families, including a number of individual rights holders recorded by Olivier in 1999. Photo copyright © Sian Sullivan, 17 March 2022.

Several days later we held a second meeting with the Hoanib Cultural Group in which we explored the possibility of a selection of the recordings being made publicly available on the British Library Sounds website. As an outcome of this discussion –which included several key performers in the original recordings– the group selected one track from each of the five recorded musical repertoires, and permission was given for these tracks to be made available for listening online on the website (links to these recordings will be shared in a future blog post). The Traditional Authority headman attended as well, which was important in terms of confirming agreements made at the meeting.

Above: Meeting with members of the Hoanib Cultural Group and the head of the Nami-Daman Traditional Authority in Sesfontein (seated second from the left) to discuss the possibility of a selection of tracks being made publicly accessible via the British Library. Co-author Welhemina Suro Ganuses is seated on the left of the image. Photo copyright © Sian Sullivan, 21 March 2022. 

This return of the recordings to the rights holders brings to completion a long and complex process of negotiation so as to arrive at mutual and respectful understanding across very different contexts. This process will be documented more fully in a forthcoming Future Pasts working paper. It remains to be seen how the rights holders to the recordings may draw on this body of work to support and revitalise their musical heritage into the future.

Notes

1. Khoekhoegowab spellings used here are from field research by Sullivan and Ganuses, combined with feedback from Khoekhoegowab linguist Wilfrid Haacke, unless quoting directly from the Olivier’s 1999 field notes or from the British Library catalogue. Many of the Khoekhoegowab words in this paper include the symbols ǀ, ǁ, ! and ǂ, denoting consonants that sound like clicks and which characterise the languages of Khoe and San peoples who live(d) throughout southern Africa. The sounds these symbols indicate are: ǀ = the ‘tutting’ sound made by bringing the tip of the tongue softly down from behind front teeth (dental click); ǁ = the clucking sound familiar in urging on a horse (lateral click); ! = a popping sound like mimicking the pulling of a cork from a wine bottle (alveolar click); ǂ = a sharp, explosive click made as the tongue is flattened and then pulled back from the palate (palatal click).
2. Damara Khoekhoegowab-speaking people tend to refer to themselves as ǂNūkhoen, meaning ‘black’ or ‘real’ people and thus distinguished from Nau khoen or ‘other people’. Historically, ‘Dama-ra’ was the Nama or Khoe name for Black people generally. Since Nama were those who early European travellers first encountered in the western part of southern Africa, they also used the term ‘Dama’ in this way. This gave rise to a confusing situation in the historical literature whereby the term ‘Damara’, as well as the central part of Namibia that in the 1800s was known as ‘Damaraland’, tended to refer to cattle pastoralists who called themselves Herero. The terms ‘Hill Damaras’ and ‘Plains Damaras’ were used to distinguish contemporary Damara or ǂNūkhoen (i.e. ‘Khoekhoegowab-speaking black-skinned people’) from otjiHerero-speaking peoples respectively. This differentiation signals historically-constitutive processes whereby pressure on land through expansionary Herero cattle pastoralism throughout Namibia pushed Khoekhoegowab-speaking Damara / ǂNūkhoen further into mountainous areas that became their refuge and stronghold.
3. ǁUbun are Khoekhoegowab-speaking peoples who moved between the coastal areas of the Northern Namib desert where !nara melons (Acanthosicyos horridus) could be harvested and areas to the east where alternative foods were found. They interacted especially with different Nama and ǂNūkhoe lineages (!haoti) of Namibia’s north-west.

Acknowledgements

We thank Emmanuelle Olivier for the original recordings and for her support for the return of digital copies of this material to Sesfontein; Angela Impey for retrieving the recordings from France; and Janet Topp Fargion and the World and Traditional Music section at the British Library for their support. Sian Sullivan is grateful to research funding from the UK’s Arts and Humanities Research Council through the projects Future Pasts (AH/K005871/2) and Etosha-Kunene Histories (AH/T013230/1), which has made the work shared here possible. We especially acknowledge the contributions of all Sesfontein Constituency residents who have sustained their musical heritage despite significant factors of marginalisation, and for their ongoing and generous participation in our research.

Authors

This guest blog is co-authored by Professor of Environment and Culture at Bath Spa University, Sian Sullivan ([email protected]), Senior Councillor and Secretary of the Nami-Daman Traditional Authority (TA), Fredrick ǁHawaxab, and Administrator at Save the Rhino Trust and Councillor of the Nami-Daman TA, Welhemina Suro Ganuses. Together they have worked with the British Library to facilitate the return of digital copies of ethnographic field recordings made in Sesfontein, Namibia, to the source communities who feature on them.

Above: Edmundo Ros in Amsterdam, 1957. Photo by Harry Pot.

The Unlocking Our Hidden Collections initiative is the British Library challenging itself. With over 170 million items in the Library’s collections and an average of over 8,000 new items added every day, it is impossible to keep up. Processing and cataloguing backlogs mean that there are so many treasures that are ‘hidden’ from view and unable to be searched in any of the Library’s catalogues.

Unlocking Our Hidden Collections is a concerted effort to bring some of these to light. We are targeting specific collections across the Library’s many curatorial areas for detailed cataloguing where previously there was none at all. Collections in this initiative include manuscripts from the medieval to contemporary periods, charters, censuses, photographs, correspondences and music manuscripts. They also include recordings from the British Library sound archive. The project that I work on within Unlocking Our Hidden Collections is entitled ‘Rare and Unpublished World and Traditional Music’, which catalogues and ultimately makes publically available collections of sound recordings that would otherwise remain obscure.

As a cataloguer in this process, I have the absolute pleasure of listening to wonderful recordings of some of the most interesting musical cultures in the world, researching their context and diving into the recordists’ own experiences through their documentation and other material. So far, I’ve worked with collections of recorded music from Thailand, Malaysia, India, Nepal and Kenya from the 1960s to the 2000s, but today I want to highlight one specific collection, the Sue Steward Collection, which has the reference C1984 in our catalogue.

Sue Steward was a British journalist and DJ with a passion for the music of Latin America. Her British Library collection is composed of interviews that she made throughout her career from 1980 to 2005. Her coverage of Latin American musicians spans those of the classic dance styles of son, merengue and mambo and the pan-Latin styles of salsa, jazz and pop, including interviews with huge stars such as Celia Cruz, Gloria Estefan and Tito Puente. Many of her recordings were made in the UK, but she also recorded on her travels to the USA (particularly in the Latin American hotspots of New York City and Miami), Cuba, the Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico and Colombia, and the interviews became a significant part of the research for Steward’s book Salsa: Musical Heartbeat of Latin America (1999). Her renown and the fondness in which she was held within the world of Latin American music led to her being affectionately known as ‘La Reina’ and ‘La Stewarda’.

Her music interests were wider than just Latin music, however, and her collection reflects that, with interviews with musicians from the worlds of punk, post-punk and new wave, free jazz, sound art and the avant-garde (her interview with Diamanda Galás - see Diamanda Galás catalogue entry -  is a particular highlight), African and Middle Eastern music – sprinkled with recordings of live performances and radio clips too. And it doesn’t stop there – an interesting thread of interviews with visual artists becomes apparent, with sculptors, photographers, painters, ceramicists and art dealers all represented in the collection.

Above: The tapes of the C1984 Sue Steward Collection at the British Library. Photo by Jim Hickson.

The jewel of Sue Steward’s collection, however, has to be her extended interviews of Edmundo Ros. These have the British Library reference C1984/1-30. This is an example of one of the many Edmundo Ross catalogue entries.

Ros was a Trinidadian-Venezuelan musician who became famous as a bandleader and club proprietor in London in the 1940s. Through both his dance bands and his clubs, Ros was the first to bring Latin American music to wide appeal in the UK, performing arrangements of cha-chas, sambas, rumbas, mambos and tangos tempered with big band swing and light music to suit the tastes of a British audience unused to such exotic sounds. As well as his music, Ros also became famous as a respected member of high society, a rarity for a Black man at that time.

Intending to write an exhaustive biography of Ros, Steward recorded multiple interviews with him at his home in Xàbia, Spain between 2000 and 2005, when Ros was between 89 and 94 years old. These interviews are so detailed, thorough and lengthy that they essentially represent an oral history. All told, Steward recorded over 27 hours of interview, including sections where the two of them look through old photographs, watch video tapes and listen to his old records.

What becomes clear is Ros’s abilities as a storyteller, his flair for the dramatic, and a playful enjoyment of his own self-mythology. Together, Ros and Steward discuss his musical life, including his time as a student at the Royal Academy of Music (where he was later made a fellow); performing at clubs during the height of the Blitz; the ins-and-outs of running a high-class ‘dinner and supper club’ from the 1940s to the 1960s; his fame, struggles and the eventual dissolution of his band.

They also talk about his (just as explosive) personal life such growing up in Trinidad and Venezuela, and his endeavours to become a perfect English gent, which led to many encounters within high society, including performing at the personal invitations of George IV, Elizabeth II and Rainier III of Monaco, his run-ins with Prince Philip, future Duke of Edinburgh, and his part in the first great post-war sex scandal. Clearly opinionated, Ros always seemed keen to give his strong (and perhaps, at times, controversial) thoughts on race, status, music and politics.

Although Steward’s biography of Ros was never completed before her sudden death in 2017, these interviews amount to Ros’s own autobiography, his stories told in his own words. Through the diligent work of Sue Steward, and now through the activities of the Unlocking Our Hidden Collections initiative, those stories – and those of many other musicians, artists and arts professionals – are now discoverable to the world through the British Library.

By Jim Hickson, Hidden Collections Audio Cataloguer, World and Traditional Music

Many yoga classes begin and end with the practice of chanting. Chanting aims to purify the mind by increasing both the mind and body’s attention. This in turn helps various people focus on the present, silencing the noise around them by releasing a smoothing feeling.

One of the benefits of chanting is full body relaxation, which is achieved by the repetition of mantras. I first became interested in chanting after attending several kirtan sessions in London. I discovered chanting as a meditative experience, a way to surrender from worries of daily life. Kirtan derives from a Sanskrit root, meaning call or recite; ultimately, it is the act of devotion to some divinity. I found the social aspect of chanting particularly healing, as the voice of many in unison can be a powerful instrument to connect people. The practice of chanting is integral to many religions, including Buddhism.

Listen to Nianfo chanting excerpt

This recording is part of the Miao Chueh Temple Collection, recorded in Taiwan in the late 1970s. The recording comes from a particular type of Buddhist school, Pure Land Buddhism, which originated in India around 2^nd century BCE.

Nianfo, to which the recording refers to, is the practice in Pure Land Buddhism consisting of the oral invocation of the Buddha Amitabha that will bring the reciter to the Land of Utmost Bliss. Through his invocation, the believer should reach a higher start of consciousness in the graded path towards becoming a liberated being. , the ultimate aim of any Buddhist tradition.

Mu yu is the wooden block used in Mahāyāna Buddhist practice during chanting. It is usually struck with a beater, and can be made in varying sizes. It is part of the baiqi ritual instrument group.

You can listen to the full recording on our Sounds webite. 

This week’s post was written by Giulia Baldorilli, Sound & Vision Reference Specialist.