Bowl of Brooklands, New Plymouth
March 16-18 | Reviewed by Brannavan Gnanalingam

I MIGHT as well say this now. The Bowl of Brooklands is the most beautiful venue for anything. It’s utterly gorgeous, and the amphitheatre works perfectly to capture sound. Admittedly I’ve never been to a New Plymouth concert when it hasn’t rained, but I’d be happy paying a little bit extra to witness any concert at that venue.

Taranaki was the scene of WOMAD, a glorious melange of international music and cultures, and also, a source for a damn good time. It was hard to be disappointed with what took place, from the wonderful food, the hospitality of the entire Taranaki region, and of course, the wide variety of exceptional music.

My WOMAD experience started off with a little press conference involving South African trio, The Mahotella Queens. Their delightful a capella gospel was the sound of defiance and hope during the apartheid era and there was something uplifting about seeing their perseverance finally rewarded. Yasmin Levy’s reinvention of the old form of Ladino singing (a mix of pre-Inquisition Judeo-Spanish traditions) also helped give a good taste of what was to come.


The first major act I saw was The Gotan Project. They were magnificent, and were probably the highlight of the entire festival. Their mix of Argentinean tango and that French sensibility was so unbelievably sexy it made you wonder why bars around the country play the likes of Akon to facilitate budding relationships. Their performance was accompanied with great videos, and the absolute highlight was the astounding hip-hop track ‘Mi Confesión’. I don’t care that I could understand what the rappers were saying, it just sounded fantastic. If any of those musicians went home alone that night, then we might as well rename New Zealand “The Frigid Isles”.

Portuguese singer Mariza played a sultry set following the Gotan Project. Her voice was haunting – it was as if it burrowed straight through your skull on route to swirling over the sea. Her performance was based on the Portuguese music form of Fado, and it was no wonder that her earlier performance had left the honourable John Campbell a little shaky. Next up was Femi Kuti and the Positive Force from Nigeria. Femi Kuti is the son of the absolutely legendary Fela Kuti, one of the pioneers of Afrobeat who mixed jazz, funk, politics and African polyrhythms into something quite remarkable. Femi Kuti has clearly carried on the legacy, marking his own territory (and judging by the reputation of his young son, the lineage has continued – I wonder what would happen if he wanted to be a doctor instead). He displayed some excellent saxophone playing, and his band contributed some excellent beats and rhythms. The sound mix was a little muddy, but the crowd boogied on down nonetheless.


The anticipated rain didn’t really arrive the next day. I arrived in time to see nomads from Niger, Etran Finatawa hit the main stage. Their mix of blues and percussion was highly hypnotic – it had a wonderful drone quality to it. They’re also a great example of cultural mixing, as the band incorporates two distinct nomadic cultures, the Woodabe and the Tuareg, into one group. WETR a New Caledonian Kanak group were up on the Brooklands Stage, and had a highly spirited and enjoyable performance. Their costumes were amazing (as were most groups around), and the intensity of their performance was a joy to watch. I caught the end of Shivkumar and Rahul Sharma, and instantly wished I’d seen more. The father and son duo were stunning. The instrument Shivkumar Sharma is renowned for, the Santoor, was mind-blowingly played (it has 100 strings), with highly complex rhythms and melodies masterfully controlled. The Bill Cobham master class which followed was good fun, as people clambered up trees to get a view of the drummer in action. His drumming partner was Don McGlashan’s drummer Chris O’Connor. Obviously, O’Connor’s talent would have paled in comparison to a legend who has played for 60 years, but he did a reasonable job keeping up with Cobham. However when Cobham let loose, it was quite something.

From a veteran to a novice, the Ensemble Shanbehzadeh was up next, featuring thirteen year old percussionist Naghib Shanbehzadeh. His playing was remarkable – it was rather trippy seeing a kid who looks about ten years old playing with such control. His father Saeid was also brilliant, as he played the music of Southern Iran (Bushehr) like a dervish, spinning around with his bagpipesque instrument on his head and dancing up a storm. It was excessively fun.


I unfortunately missed Lila Downs, the Mexican chanteuse, who by all accounts was astonishing. There was a rather unfortunate clash between Bill Cobham and Salif Keita, the Malian legend. I chose to see the beginning of Cobham, but unfortunately the Jonathan Crayford Project went on well over the time, delaying the start of Cobham. Crayford himself was impressive, I remember the days when he’d play up at Blondini’s every week and thinking why isn’t he more popular, and he’s now starting to make a name of himself in the New York jazz scene. He’s a very talented man, and his music was excellent, but he fell into the trap that most New Zealand artists seem to at big festivals and that is go over time (though, the temptation would be obvious, because how many other chances do a lot of these New Zealand bands get to play to such a big crowd?).

So I was rather restless waiting for Cobham. This wasn’t helped by the people who pushed their way in front when Cobham was about to start. Ordinarily pushing in is part and parcel of going to a concert, but when you start drumming on your boyfriend’s bag, while entirely devoid of any rhythm yourself, and impairing my limited view of a drummer who’s playing around with rhythm, texture and volume, then some sarcastic comments have to be unsubtly made. Having unfortunately made her cry, I was able to enjoy Cobham’s set a little bit more. I then went to the brilliant Salif Keita, a Malian afrobeat star. The funk was irresistible, the drums wonderfully polyrhythmic, his voice was astonishing (especially in his solo, slower stuff), and crowd was whipped up into a frenzy. It led me to discover the best way to sum up WOMAD – a three-day festival where a large-scale crowd engage in an elusive quest to find a beat. I don’t consider myself a Michael Jackson or anything, but the amount of people who couldn’t actually dance gave everything a bit of a polyrhythmic feel. Which was probably fitting here.

Finally a magical day of music ended with Mr. Scruff. There was something so romantic and fitting that a thousand strong crowd danced the night away in the rain (which had finally arrived) to some glorious music and technically excellent DJing. It was a wonderful end, and I haven’t seen so many people ridiculously happy and dancing with such abandon without the previous consumption of substances for a good long time.


The next day was a bit low-key. The heavy, incessant rain had washed away a lot of people’s enthusiasm so the crowds were a bit smaller. Although the weather was fine by the afternoon, people were more in mood for a laxy sit-down. It was a good time to see some of the Artists in Conversation, where interviewers talked to some of the artists playing at WOMAD. Today, the conversations were being run by Nick Bollinger, and it was so very refreshing to see an interviewer who is not only highly knowledgeable, but willing to let the artists speak. He achieved what so few New Zealand interviewers do, and that is appear invisible while still asking piercing questions and directing the proceedings. I’ve always thought that you don’t notice a good interviewer, and Bollinger was brilliant. He was helped by his subjects, Don McGlashan and Lila Downs who are remarkably interesting people, good conversationalists and who gave intelligent, well-considered responses. (I must also say the questions of the audience were very good too, in stark contrast to most occasions when the audience is allowed to speak).

The music however was a little on the slow side during the day. Hollie Smith while doing nothing wrong, is nothing more than elevator music. I definitely wasn’t in the mood for The Mamaku Project (when or when will our obsession with poor dub music end??? You only had to listen to Mr. Scruff to realise what good dub music can sound like) though the soprano saxophone (I think, I couldn’t see) sounded cool with its Middle Eastern feel. Lior was a competent Australian singer-songwriter. His arrangements and melodies were nice, his lyrics extremely overwrought, and I kinda wondered how he fit into the whole WOMAD thing. No doubt, people who like the John Butler Trio will like him.

My general apathy for the afternoon’s proceedings was saved by the wonderful Australian/Indonesian Samba Sunda. I’ve always loved the sound of the gamelan with its crazy tonal sounds, and this band brought together beautiful choreography, movement, symmetry and of course, music. While the crowd was feeling a bit lazy to participate, their performance was wonderful. Another nice moment following the conclusion of their performance was seeing kids from the Taranaki region (I think they might have been from Waitara) get into the action with an impromptu parade full of bright colours, stilt walking and little kids banging the drums. What more could you want?


As someone who lives for the surreal in life, the Global Food Village, where artists cooked up a feast was great too. There was something fascinating (and bizarre) about seeing nomads (Etran Finatawa) dressed up in bright, traditional costumes stirring a big crock pot in a kitchen that wouldn’t look out of place on a TV Show.

The All Star Gala started the night show. A number of the artists got together, with highlights including the poi routines of the Whitireia Performing Arts and Taranaki Whanau group (they did some mean freestyling later on too) and the flute playing of Guo Yue. Though the house was brought down with the drum-off between the old master Cobham and young apprentice Shanbehzadeh, which was mind-blowing enough, and then when a whole bunch of other drummers, Crayford, Saeid Shanbehzadeh, Guo Yue, and others came together for an almighty jam, it somehow got even better. I ended my concert going experience with Don McGlashan & the Seven Sisters, as the legendary McGlashan ran through some of his exceptional oeuvre (including a great version of ‘Dominion Road’, and an excellent guest performance by Hollie Smith – suggesting her voice just needs a bit of variety to be interesting) and was a nice way to end the festival for me.

This was certainly a lot of fun. New Plymouth was the perfect venue for WOMAD, the people really got into it, and no doubt, the overwhelming majority of the 40,000 people who went to the festival came away happy. It’s coming back as an annual event, and judging by the wonderful time I had this year, there’s a strong likelihood I’ll be back next year to sample some of the best music the world has to offer.

See also:
» WOMAD 2007: A Brief Conspectus
» WOMAD 2007: The Sounds of Music
» WOMAD 2007: In Images

» Images by Catherine Bisley © 2007