South African pianist, composer, healer, and philosopher Nduduzo Makhathini is one of today’s few spiritually transcendent artists, as heard on his previous two Blue Note releases. Unlike some artists who gravitate toward the spiritual side of jazz more for musical reasons, Nduduzo (easier to use his first name) is a Zulu healer and educator by profession, and spiritual music comes naturally to him. As one writer said, “…trust a musician who has truly devoted his life to divination practices.” The vowel-filled album title references the Zulu Goddess uNomkhubulwane, the Zulu name for God’s only daughter, also deemed to be a mythical rain goddess, a regulator of nature, light, and fertility. As a shapeshifting force, she can take the shape of an animal, a hurricane, or a rainbow.
Nduduzo’s trio mates are the bassist Zwelakhe-Duma Bell le Pere, of South African descent who was born and raised in the U.S., and Cuban-born drummer Francisco Mela (Joe Lovano, Kenny Barron, McCoy Tyner, and more}. This tandem also adds vocal backing to Nduduzo’s sacred lead vocals.
Nduduzo confesses to ignoring his previous research into American and South African jazz traditions in composing the suite, stating that he tapped into the pure essence of being, an endeavor that involved “listening-hearing-sensing and establishing a relationship with an ‘elsewhere” through some guidedness.” If we were to examine Sun Ra’s philosophies as early as the ‘50s we might encounter a similar kind of statement, but Sun Ra’s cosmology differs from Nduduzo’s Zulu mysticism as heard in the three-part suite that embraces the goddess in three parts. The number three is hugely important in Africa, associated with endlessness, immortality, and ongoingness through a triple state of being – before, present, and the future. This same number is reflected in the number of musicians in the ensemble, in time signatures, and in the series of triplets that populate the songs. Nduduzo’s liner notes shed more extensive light on the subject and his inspiration for the project.
There are eleven tracks in his three-part suite grouped under “Libations” (3), “Water Spirits” (4), and “Inner Attainment” (4). From the very first spoken words and the unfolding of the first track, “Omnyama,’’ one feels entranced in this deeply intimate space through the hypnotic music, the repeated piano figure, and the rousing sung incantations. You’ll notice click sounds, that Nduduzo terms the qa sound common to the Bantu languages, evoking water droplets (you’ll recall that the Zulu goddess is a rain goddess as well). My only reference point is that of Abdullah Ibrahim and specifically his most recent album, naturally entitled “3,” rendered by a drum-less trio with similar reverent pianism yet Nduduzo’s has more vocal tracks and is even more spiritually focused.
The next two tracks in this section read more like jazz trio interplay with the purely instrumental balladic “Uxolo” that has a robust bass solo while “KwaKhangelamankengana” mashes up the African strains with percussive chording evoking McCoy Tyner, the pianist whom Nduduzo is most often compared to. The album is primarily a vigorous jazz trio interplay interspersed with the vocal pieces rather than the reverse. This section invokes, according to Nduduzo “an eternal state of black mourning that has made us lose our ‘voices’ and even though we still cry, we do not have tears anymore.”
The second movement, “Water Spirits,” deals with energy and restoration, a ‘cleansing.’ It moves from a pensive opening instrumental piece to a second rhythmically charged, dramatic, cascading instrumental that reveals tight interplay back to a third, more reflective piece with more outstanding bass sequences and the return of spoken word and chanting vocals. The final track, “Iyana,” is a peaceful, uplifting meditation rife with chanting vocals.
The final movement, “Inner Attainment,” is, in a real sense, the essence of Afro-futurism, striving toward freedom, hope, and grace. This transcendence would return ‘abundance” to the present time. It, too, has a rather pensive beginning that quickly morphs into dazzling runs in the opening piece and the presence of a far stronger drum. The second track is jagged and rhythmically intricate, the third begins slower paced and calm but builds into celebratory chanting. The final track, “Ithemba,” is fittingly a prayer-like solo piano piece, with glistening right-handed notes and chords reflecting the enduring optimism Nduduzo has for his people and mankind.
