"You can live all your life and never really know what you have. You just get put in a place. In every life we have to think about what we are given. You have to keep coming back to the center of energy that everyone must capture for themselves. Then there is no struggle."
[from Dirty Linen #63, Apr/May 1996]
It's a story told over and over in this age of musical genre and period bending and blending. Young upstart musicians seeking to expand the boundaries of traditional music add modern instrumentation, change tempos, attitudes and presentation and find that the traditionalists are up in arms at their audacity. In many cultures, while there might be some pretty heated verbal sniping at musicians who dare to tamper with the tradition, that's generally where it ends. If you're Boukman Eksperyans, however, the sniping is sometimes all too real, and the consequences of changing, adapting and espousing some traditions can be much more serious.
Boukman Eksperyans' music is not just traditional; it has a traditional religious base, a religion often at odds with the dominant political party line in the band's native Haiti. The story of Boukman Eksperyans is one of complicated and chaotic political upheavals, one of danger and subterfuge, one of exciting political and social changes, and, not least of all, one of an exhilarating and compelling musical journey in search of roots.
Boukman Dutty, the band's namesake, was a Jamaican-born Vodou priest (and an obvious inspiration for the band) who was at the forefront of the revolution that resulted in freedom for Haiti from French colonialism and slavery in 1804.
The saga of Boukman Eksperyans began with a young couple looking beyond the material things in their life. Despite a privileged upbringing and education, Theodore "Lolo" Beaubrun, Jr. and his wife Mimerose Beaubrun, an anthropologist, joined a Haitian Lakou in 1978 to explore their Haitian cultural and spiritual roots. Lakous, extended family residential groups, are based on an African type of collective living, with a central courtyard. From this beginning, the couple delved deeply into Vodou religion and philosophy and began combining their religious study with traditional rhythmic drumming and chanting. As music became more important in the quest for their roots, they joined with Lolo's brother Daniel and sister Marjorie and other friends and formed Boukman Eksperyans.
The Beaubrun children had been raised as Protestants, but they rediscovered Vodou through their Lakou experience. "It's a way of life," said Lolo. "Vodou is a way to God." Vodou, according to Lolo, is also consistent with the teachings of many religions. The Beaubruns' parents, however, along with other like-minded, formally educated people, rejected Vodou as a backwards religion.
Lolo, whose native language is French Creole, speaks quickly and passionately, sometimes struggling to find the exact English word to get his meaning across. Even so, he is adept at explaining Boukman's philosophy on spirituality and life. Judging by the number of wide-ranging interviews, he is not a stranger to the power of the press in explaining the band's philosophy and popularity. An engaging speaker, he is clearly the band's spiritual leader, both on and off stage.
The word "Vodou," which means "spirit," originated in West Africa with the Fon people. The religion followed the slave trade and went through various permutations in Haiti, Jamaica and parts of North and South America. Vodou is based on a multi-tiered system of deities, ruled by the Creator God, Mawu ("Bondye" in Haiti). Vodou is used (like many other religions) to help form community rules and guide group behavior and living. With Vodou, strong ties to the earth are emphasized.
At the very heart of Boukman's music is this spiritual belief, a belief that flies in the face of organized religion, one that doesn't follow the teachings of any one leader. In the liner notes to their latest album, Libète (Pran Pou Pran'l!)/Freedom (Let's Take It!) (1995), Lolo wrote: "No matter what our beliefs may be, now is the time for the true freedom, for the total revolution, which unites the body and the soul, to happen. We have to spiritualize the matter and to materialize the spirit before it is too late! This is what the concept of 'Ginen' in our Vodou culture is all about: 'Fran Ginen' means: To find the ultimate state of peace, to serve love at all times. This is obviously not what the politicians and the organized religions have been talking about on a constant basis, but rather what Jesus (Ginen, Yaweh, Djeisit), Buddha, Krishna, Moses, Mohammed, Boukman, Lao Tseu, and Gandhi have been preaching."
In many western countries, Vodou has an image as an evil religion. Stories abound of black magic, evil spells and satanic themes. "They tell you it's a satanic thing," said Lolo, "that the African spirits are demons. When I made contact with Vodou, I saw it wasn't like that. It's another way to see God. It's the power of the universe you're in contact with."
Lolo noted the similarities with native American religious beliefs. When the band played in the southwest U.S. and in parts of Canada, Boukman quickly established bonds with native peoples of both countries. "There is a lot of cultural meaning with the Amerindians," said Lolo, talking about a tour that took them to the Southwest U.S. "I think that was my favorite because I see similarities in culture." The familiarities he found were not necessarily in the individual deities but in the philosophy toward the earth and thinking and vision, what he called "the magical vision."
It's not a major problem that many in Boukman Eksperyans' audience outside of Haiti (or the transplanted Haitian community) may be lacking a full understanding of Vodou or Boukman's message. Lolo is content that they reach people at some level. He is confident that eventually as with many other types of music with a message, listeners will care enough to delve deeper. "Everybody has a different level of understanding," he said with a smile.
At the center of Vodou belief is a striving for "Ginen," described as a state of spiritual awareness, a oneness, a state of enlightenment. Here there is pure energy, where there is no conflict between thoughts and action, only harmony.
This "becoming one," the trances on stage and in their audiences, the "dangerous" rhythms and lyrics -- all were seen as a threat to establishment and elite classes. This music that could powerfully unite the masses was becoming more and more alarming.
Even though Boukman promoted Vodou in their music, other followers of the religion were at first skeptical about combining modern instrumentation and melodies to this old and sacred religion. Pairing rock rhythms and adding drum machines and keyboards was viewed suspiciously. When the traditionalists realized that the band was not changing the message of Vodou, but only the medium, the opposition largely died down. As it turned out, that was the least of Boukman Eksperyans' worries.
To outsiders, the political, social and economic culture in Haiti looks chaotic. To be living inside that chaotic world while trying to make some order of it must seem like an overwhelming undertaking. Members of Boukman Eksperyans have not only been living and working in this atmosphere, but have been instrumental in spreading the word through their music as they work for change in their country. The band has worked through periods during which they have been politically "in," and others where they have been "out," but they have weathered it all with unwavering style and a clear goal.
The Beaubrun siblings were part of an elite class in Haiti, with access to money and good education. Theodore Beaubrun, Sr. was a satirical comic and the head of the National Theatre in Haiti. Their mother, separated from their father, lived in New York City and the Beaubruns visited her, soaking up American culture and music at the same time. Both Lolo and Daniel were subsequently college educated in the U.S.
Using music to tell the story of Haitian history and Vodou, Boukman Eksperyans began to more actively push for political and social change in a country buffeted by outside influences and interference and inside upheaval. The music gradually expanded to incorporate the musical interests of Daniel, the musical leader of the group. He introduced rock, jazz and funk influences absorbed after 10 years living in the States. The close-knit group began to more fully realize the power in music as a form of communication.
"Nou Pap Sa Bliye (We Won't Forget This)" from the Grammy-nominated Vodou Adjae (1991) is a nostalgic look at Boukman's beginning as a musical group. "We won't forget/ The day we said we were going to play the music of our country/ To play the music of Vodou/ We felt that we became one/ With all our other brothers experiencing this culture/ We truly felt we were Haitian."
The rasin (racine, or roots) music that Boukman was playing was out of style with the pre-Aristide regimes. The politically-preferred compas was a kind of Caribbean merengue, often described as frothy and dealing with superficial themes. A light dance music, it developed in the early 60s and was a favorite of the Duvalier era (1957-1986). While the band had been exposed to Vodou rhythms in the early part of the regime, Vodou was considered dangerous and essentially banned. "Papa Doc" Duvalier systematically worked to discredit Vodou by sending out his thugs passed off as bogeyman practicing Vodou and black magic. Duvalier further twisted Vodou culture to elevate his status, even proposing that he was a deity himself, implying that he used his own form of black magic to control the people. When his armed rogues were everywhere, many found it difficult to believe otherwise.
Boukman quickly became the best known and most popular of the rasin bands. The roots music with Vodou rhythms, when combined with its rock and roll cousins, completed a circle. The same rhythms that were deemed dangerous in the 1700s and 1800s had, through the years, also been denigrated in their various permutations. Blues was considered devil music in its earliest forms, and of course rock and roll was regarded as the ultimate satanic influence on young Americans in the 1950s and 60s.
As a testimony to the power of music in effecting political and social change, the military regimes of the late 80s often targeted popular rasin bands, attempting, often through violence, to silence them. While Boukman Eksperyans' songs were officially banned, they were still played on pirate radio in Haiti, and illicit tape duplication went on despite the official edict. The music grew in popularity and became something of a soundtrack for the revolution.
In 1990, Boukman Eksperyans won Haiti's Carnival song prize with "Ke-M Pa Sote" ("My Heart Doesn't Leap/I'm Not Afraid"). The defiant song took on anthemic proportions and some say it helped pave the way for Jean Baptiste Aristide's election victory in 1991.
Rasin bands began to be associated with the Aristide camp as the Catholic priest was rising to power. The music's basis in the roots and culture of the Haitian people was supported by Aristide during his initial eight months in power following his election in 1991, and roots bands began sprouting up throughout the country. Aristide, too, supported self-determination and self rule for Haiti and Boukman Eksperyans demonstrated their endorsement by playing at his inauguration. The fall of Aristide meant a discontinuation of support for the bands and only a few well-established ones, including Boukman Eksperyans, survived. Even then, the going was rough and it probably would have been simpler (and safer) to quit or lay low until the political climate was more favorable. The members of Boukman Eksperyans were able to continue partly because of their social status and partly because they had reached a level of popularity that made it more difficult, but by no means impossible, for the military to harass them.
While the band could have lived elsewhere during much of the most recent conflict (they still have family in the States), beginning with the 1991 coup that removed Aristide from office, they chose to stay, working for the establishment of self-rule in Haiti. Members of Boukman Eksperyans suffered some dire consequences, including the death of a band member, because of that decision, even as the band's music became more politically powerful. Still, one can't overlook the irony in noting that a certain measure of protection for the band came from their membership in a higher social class and their visibility as popular musicians.
Lolo is matter-of-fact when talking about his background and the band's advocacy of an elimination of the class structure in Haiti. "For me, it's uniforms. The system forces you to be certain things, to take on a uniform, bourgeois, middle class, whatever. For us we have to go out from that uniform. You have to lose the ego. We have to become in Ginen. I don't see the struggle of class for us, because you have to be in that space that's not in the battle. You're able to pull out and see both sides. You have to get out of the duality. We are all children of the same mother."
Perhaps the band's philosophical views on life and politics provided the best reason to stay in Haiti. As Lolo explained it, "The struggle with politics and dogma is an ongoing thing and everything is part of a whole. Americans like to compartmentalize everything and divide everything into packets. But everything is integrated.
"People are always thinking about the future, preoccupied with what is going to happen. We have to live in the present. You can prepare for the future but you can't be totally dependent on the preparation. Living in the moment doesn't mean there is not action. You must choose action instead of reaction."
The song "Kalfour Danjere/Dangerous Crossroads," from their second album of the same name, elicited death threats and phone taps but the band played on. Singing about justice at the crossroads ("the crossroads," in Vodou culture, is the home of deities and a place of judgement) was not exactly a way to gain favor from the ruling military. Even if one doesn't understand the words to "Kalfour Danjere," the cacophony of rhythms and voices is a compelling call to action.
"Nanm Nan Boutey/Soul in a Bottle" from Kalfou Danjere is a protest against those who would force people to live by foreign cultural standards. "The people still need to know what is going on," said Lolo. "It is to the advantage of political leaders to keep things complicated. Politicians try not to let the people really know what is going on. And the Catholic church is one of the biggest political institutions."
No matter who was in power through the years, Haiti was still largely controlled by the Catholic Church from the time of the 1804 liberation until the 1960s. "We need a complete change in the system," continued Lolo. "A whole new way of life. Some things have to be controlled by the state for the benefit of people but other things should be privatized."
Also from Kalfou Danjere/Dangerous Crossroads (1992), the song "Vodou Adjae" is explicit in describing the philosophy to which Boukman subscribes. "Capitalism, Communism, Bullshitism/Egotism, Expansionism, Imperialism/ A huge system, much racism, Fanaticism/Bad money, bloody wars, orphans." And later: "A slew of religions grows like mushrooms/ Prohibiting true action/ True action is love, unity, justice..."
It's no wonder then that political and religious leaders see Boukman as a threat to their various regimes and systems. In a now well-known incident in 1993, the members of Boukman took the stage at a concert in Port au Prince and, in direct defiance of a military command, began playing "Kalfou Danjere." Gun-toting soldiers were in the wings and, according to reports, one soldier even put a gun to Lolo's head. When the band began to play the familiar music, the crowd of 10,000 began to eagerly sing the words in unison. Even with tear gas filling the area, they continued to sing, covering their faces with bandannas to minimize the effect of the gas.
In early June of 1994, the band's bass player and percussionist, Michel Melthon "Olicha" Lynch, died when antibiotics to treat his bacterial meningitis were hijacked before they could reach him. The antibiotics, sent from the U.S., had mysteriously disappeared at the Port au Prince airport, even though medicines were supposedly exempt from embargoes.
The rest of the band left a couple of weeks after Lynch's death to begin a European tour, only to find when it ended that they couldn't go on to their scheduled tour in the U.S. because of visa restrictions for Haitians. Unable to return to Haiti, the members of Boukman disappeared into the mountains of Jamaica in late July, where they remained until papers and documents were processed that would allow them to avoid refugee camps and stay in Jamaica. They moved into Kingston in September and began to record their third album, Libète, at Bob Marley's Tuff Gong studio. Marley had been an early inspiration for Lolo, who wanted to combine his own country's traditional music and rhythms with popular music.
Boukman Eksperyans continued on their highly visible path and became even more strident in advocating self-rule for Haiti. "Jou Male/Day of the Shock," the 1993 Carnival song, is a strongly worded song telling those who promote violence and abuse that they won't be tolerated, that the righteous don't feel fear. "We all have hatred inside us. But, we can control that," said Lolo. "Society has rules to control it, but it's not enough. You can't be too dependent on outside law. If you want to control the demon, you have to go beyond to find where the energy is. You need the energy to get to the magical life. Every time you cross that line [to evil] you lose energy."
On stage it sometimes appears that members of Boukman are in a trance state and indeed even some of the audience seems to be under the same influence. On "Ganga" (Libète), one of the band members possessed with the spirit of Ganga can be heard in the chorus. Simbi Ganga is a spirit of the Kongo nation in Vodou and, again, the song is a call to action. "But we who know and understand/ We can't stand there with our arms crossed/ The spirits are counting on us/ To bring the Lakou back to life."
Even though Aristide and his recent successor Rene Preval have proved popular (Aristide, realizing the power of Vodou in Haitian culture, acknowledged this with Vodou symbols sewn into his priest's robes), Lolo is still skeptical of official power. He is aware that choices still have to be made between the powers that helped the current regime (including those outside of Haiti) and the poor underclass that forms the popular support. In the liner notes of Libète, Lolo wrote: "This freedom is beckoning us to respect, to understand, to be compassionate, to love and to be generous. This freedom tells us to learn to know ourselves so we can get rid of ignorance, of material dependence and of the slavery of the social class system."
In Haiti when the slaves were liberated from the French they knew no other system of government and they were taught that African culture was bad. Lolo advocates the Lakou system to reverse that kind of thinking. "People lose their culture when their work isn't connected to it," he said. "It is important to us that through music we are connected to the essence. For me the essence of all religions is the same.
"You can live all your life and never really know what you have. You just get put in a place. In every life we have to think about what we are given. You have to keep coming back to the center of energy that everyone must capture for themselves. Then there is no struggle."
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