Historically, when the Roma used to play music for non-Roma events such as weddings, parties, and baptisms their repertoire would be largely inclusive of Slovak folk music. However, amongst themselves, Roma would sing slower songs about their hard life, grief, suffering, and love. As the Romani quote goes:
Gadzeske basavav andro kan, Romeske andro jilo, or, "For the non-Roma play for the ear, for us play for the heart".
There is a beautiful scene in the movie Gadjo Dilo by Tony Gatlif in which the main character, a Romani girl, bathes outdoors with her friend, to the curious pleasure of the gadje, who catches a rare, and perhaps forbidden glimpse into their wantonness. The makeshift outdoor bath house is as splendid as the violets the girls use to wash their bodies and hair. The laughter and frolic of the girls in the bare elements make it so that they appear harmonious with nature. There is an earthly goodness in that scene that takes us back to our roots, to simplicity, where nudity is not considered necessarily sexual, but rather sensual.
Of course, that kind of natural scene is only found in films. Or is it? While Gatlif captures the essence of Rom gypsy village life in the backwoods of Romania, there is a whole different kind of 'scene' taking place right here in Los Angeles. Well, not so much a scene as a tradition carried over from the old country.
Along the boulevards of Koreatown, Los Angeles, barely visible to the naked eye are traditional bath houses which offer a secret hideaway for pampering and relaxation. Dubbed 'spas', these are in fact legit communal bath houses that have traditionally been gathering places for Korean men and women, but are open to the general public. Establishments like Century Sports Club and Olympic Spa offer shared, public spaces for steaming, scrubbing, dipping in hot/cold/medicinal baths, indulging in massages and facials, all in one respectful communal environment. Men have separate facilities, (not unlike the women's spa), where they can indulge in sauna, hot tubs and steam rooms. And guess what, clothing is not optional! After all, the only way to get super clean and scrubbed is to go completely 'au natural'....And contrary to what one may think, the facilities are generally quite clean and safe as they do closely adhere to health and safety codes.
Though technically these 'spas' do offer more individualized services such as body scrubbing, facials, and massages, I like to call them bath houses. After all, I like to think that a bath house sounds much more traditional, organic, exotic, earthy, more gypsy... than a snooty-sounding spa!
Well, besides all of these groups having lived through and survived their own respective holocausts, they also recently shared a stage with Yasmin Levy, the Israeli-born internationally acclaimed Ladino singer, at Los Angeles' Skirball Cultural Center.
For those who are not familiar with Ladino, it is a language that was spoken by Sephardic Jews who fled Spain in 1492. It is in danger of extinction. During the evening's intimate performance, Levy sparked laughter and tears through her songs and stories that described the historical aspects of Ladino music.
The song set, which also included gypsy flamenco and Bedouin pieces, was beautifully interlaced with the haunting sound of the duduk, an Armenian instrument played by woodwind virtuoso, Vardan Hovanissian. In fact, the duduk-which has been incorporated in fusion bands in recent times-is rather a signature sound of Armenian folk songs that tell of the heartbreaking stories of the genocide of 1915. The shared presence of these three musical elements- Jewish, Gypsy, and Armenian-was a testament of global healing that can occur through the power of music.
With a soothing and healing voice, the sensual Levy continued to introduce each of her songs with a charming back story. To my delight, she had even adapted a Ladino song to the beat of solea por buleria (a style of gypsy flamenco song with a distinct hand clapping rhythm).
The gypsy in all of us came out that night. One could close their eyes and imagine Levy's evocative voice echoing through the hills of the Sacromonte in Granada, Spain, during the Inquisition. You could even perhaps channel your ancestors in the stillness of those moments between a sigh and a lyric sung a cappella.
Some of the more familiar songs sung by Yasmin: La Rosa Enflorece (Ladino song also known as 'Los Bilbilicos')Naci En Alamo (featured in the gypsy/flamenco movie 'Vengo')
Hi, I'm Mariette, a city girl with a big country heart. Since I was a wee kid, I always dreamed of living on a farm, at least part of the time. My grandma, bless her soul, used to think that is a very sweet idea. She grew up in the old country where the milkman would milk the goat right at the front door. Grandma also taught me some great things in the kitchen, though we never got to grow an edible garden together. Her domain was the stove, and mine is the soil. Urban farming is an extension of my love for food, the natural world, and all things green. It is also my vision for bringing together community. We live in the city of angels- Los Angeles- where growing food might just be the last authentic experience. So, hopefully this blog inspires you to see the natural edible world the way I do.
Happy growing!
Mariette
Historically, when the Roma used to play music for non-Roma events such as weddings, parties, and baptisms their repertoire would be largely inclusive of Slovak folk music. However, amongst themselves, Roma would sing slower songs about their hard life, grief, suffering, and love. As the Romani quote goes:
There is a beautiful scene in the movie Gadjo Dilo by Tony Gatlif in which the main character, a Romani girl, bathes outdoors with her friend, to the curious pleasure of the gadje, who catches a rare, and perhaps forbidden glimpse into their wantonness. The makeshift outdoor bath house is as splendid as the violets the girls use to wash their bodies and hair. The laughter and frolic of the girls in the bare elements make it so that they appear harmonious with nature. There is an earthly goodness in that scene that takes us back to our roots, to simplicity, where nudity is not considered necessarily sexual, but rather sensual.
