The Excellent Drum Circle Adventure of Amie and Jan

by Amie

I have always been interested in drums. In elementary school, although I was probably more predisposed to play the drums or saxophone, I played the cumbersome French horn instead, and, on the cusp of junior high school, I played the "girlish" flute. I wasn’t good at either.

My interest in drumming began with two fake bands. In high school, I was the fake drummer for "Killer Eskimos That Eat Kiwi (KETEK)" and, in my junior year of college, "Make Men Bald." The second name was born while dining in a restaurant with some friends, when a group of women got up to go to the bathroom. "Why do women always have to go to the bathroom in groups?" one of the men asked.

"To discuss secrets about men," we retaliated, "like how to make men bald."

In both bands, of course, I never lifted a drumstick, but bored at college parties, I often touted the band and my position in it. (Make Men Bald never even wrote one song, although we wrote out song titles for our amusement; that is more than the body of work left behind by KETEK.)

At house parties where there were hand drums, I would hop behind them and bang away without any sense of rhythm or skill. This was evident the next day by the dark bruises crawling up my wrists from banging too hard. I secretly wanted a "bongo" for many years, but I never got around to buying one.

Drumming has been a secret interest of mine for many years, something I’ve always wanted to get into. After getting my fill of role-playing, I actually thought it would be cool to learn the drums. One night, I ran into an old friend whom happened to play the drums, and we discussed my interest. He offered me free lessons, which I took him up on. That summer I ended up subletting a room from his house, so I had access to his drum kit. Of course, the lessons and my practicing weren’t consistent enough to make anything I learned stick, but it was fun while it lasted.

When Jan informed me that she was going to hold a drum circle at her house where Blair Hornbuckle, an accomplished jembe instructor, would teach four lessons, I was excited. No longer, I thought, would I pick up and strum a guitar only to turn it over and beat on the back like a drum.

The drum circles were held in Jan’s living room, Jan and I being the only women there. I was a bit intimidated at the lessons being outnumbered by men, and also as a beginner. A few of the people at the lessons had experience playing the drums.

We first became introduced to West African oral tradition. Hornbuckle called out jembe rhythms, introducing us to n’giring, marakadon, and dununba. We had to mimic him orally and then we tried to emulate the rhythm on our drums. At first, the sounds Hornbuckle were making seemed foreign, strange, and even ridiculous. It was hard enough to mimic him orally, let alone to try to attempt the rhythms on the drum. However, with practice, the connection between the rhythms of the oral tradition and actual drum playing began to open up and shine some light, however sketchy was the grasp, in my mind. There was a moment where I had an epiphany and felt a "connection," the "Zen" of drumming, although these euphoric and trippy moments (no, they weren’t chemically induced) were rare. (This Zen is much like the connection Taryn felt playing bingo in the September Travels.)

The moments everyone was drumming away as one were great, although I don’t know how correctly we were playing. To actually play jembe correctly and well is some serious work, one that requires significant daily practice over a period of many years just to be adequate. The four lessons given by Hornbuckle set down some basic framework that, if applied consistently, could lead us on our way. The four lessons alone just scratched the surface.

We learned the basics of "tones" and "slaps." A tone is a tap on the drum with the fingers closed which produces a bass sound. The slap is with the fingers opened which results in a short, higher pitched sound. Playing alternate tones and slaps was achievable if I did it during home practice at a ridiculously slow pace, but it was next to impossible at the drum circle when we were expected to keep up with the rhythm. It wouldn’t be rare, then, to look over at me and see my hands flying every which way in confusion, trying to find the rhythm and get back into the group.

"Girls are very much needed in drumming. They shouldn't be intimidated...but should get in there and play."

Sadly, I won’t be good at everything I pick up, especially without practice. (With more insight into this, see my bio.) Although I could buy a jembe drum and occasionally play around on it, I know now that it’s bad form to play incorrectly; now I know some basics, including how to avoid bruises.

"I really enjoyed the circle," said Jan. "I liked the idea of taking a class where folks of all levels of ability could learn. When you really get into a groove with the drum it’s a cool thing. What was kind of hard for me was trying to remember which verbal cues meant what hand position. It’s like learning a new language, which can be kind of tricky. "

Rick Puente, a member of the drum circle who has been playing for five years and building drums for four, says it is "good to get different perspectives from people on the same lessons."

Evan Stuckless, who is making up his mind to really study [jembe], to go to Africa, and study under Hornbuckle said, "Girls are very much needed in drumming. They shouldn’t be intimidated…but should get in there and play."

Hornbuckle has been playing jembe for 10 years and teaching for eight. "You know you can do something well when you’re able to teach it," said Hornbuckle. He says that jembe is a "bottomless vessel."

"The group showed so much potential," Hornbuckle said of our drum circle.

According to Hornbuckle, Jembe (spelled Djembe in France) is a West African drum traditionally used by the Malinke tribe in and around Mali and Guinea for the purpose of healing. Jembe drumming is used culturally to mark every important social occasion in one’s village, such as a baby naming or christening ceremony, or is combined with herbal medicine in a dancing social celebration.

"To be in the correct rhythm of life is to be a whole person," said Hornbuckle of the West African people.

The jembe is played in the hot climate of the sub-Sahara, where jembe players need to play "up."

"The dancers need that energy to pick them up and make them fly because it is very hot," said Hornbuckle.

There are 300 traditional jembe rhythms. In the US, a group consists of six drummers and 30 dancers, but varies depending on the ability of the artist’s involved.

To get into drumming, Hornbuckle suggests:

-- Find a teacher–someone you trust. For example, Hornbuckle’s teacher was M’bay Diagne. Once Hornbuckle learned, he felt it was his responsibility to share it with other people.

-- Get immersed in listening to drumming by accumulating a discography of jembe music. Since the West African tradition is oral, sing the jembe rhythms (try to write them down phonetically if that helps) and get them into your head. Learn the parts and sing them to yourself. This is important to get used to the sound. Jembe sounds foreign because it is polyrhythmic (has multiple meters).

-- Sit down, listen to a CD of jembe music, and practice everyday.

-- Get together with friends and jam, or play in a public area where drummers are known to gather. Or, play by yourself in public. According to Hornbuckle, people will hear you and sit next to you and play.

-- Take a jembe dance class that accompanies the music and helps you become familiar with and understand jembe rhythms through the rhythms of your body.

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