How many times will a historian have had the audience cheering, whistling and shouting for more? How many times has an academic made a packed concert hall dance, jump, cry and dance some more for hours? British-Egyptian Hannah Elsisi (Cambridge, New York University) was given free time in Utrecht on Saturday to her grand project Chromesthesia to launch. It was the Le Guess Who? festival. at its best.
Pop
Le Guess Who?
Heard: 8/11 and 9/11, Utrecht
While there were so many other choices to make in the festival’s enormous offering, many visitors could hardly tear themselves away from the main hall of TivoliVredenburg. The project kicks off on Saturday at six o’clock with the afro-futurist band Sonic Interventions from Berlin, where musicians and dancers navigate between hip-hop, trance, jazz and African traditions, ending in ecstatic applause. Seamlessly, Egyptian DJ 3Phaz takes over with Saudi singer Msylma. Pre-Islamic singing with club sounds. Twelve more hours will follow in which Elsisi makes her audience dance through a thousand years of music and migration from Africa.
In her academic research into the Afro-diaspora and in the visualizations in the hall, Elsisi uses the mangrove as a metaphor. No wonder that her project with numerous guest musicians fits so well with Le Guess Who? (LGW?), surely the mangrove forest of international music festivals. Just as mangroves are indispensable nurseries for biodiversity and cover only 0.3 percent of the global land mass, so does LGW program? everything that twists and flows musically in fresh and salt water, below sea level or just above it. The roots extend across the city from TivoliVredenburg for four days, with more than two hundred names spread over 23 locations.
Obscure
This year again, the notoriously inscrutable program seemed more obscure than the previous edition. Anyone who knows more than ten acts probably works in the music industry or is a compulsive adventurer, which indeed applies to a large part of the international audience. But how does the mere mortal navigate this landscape without headliners or even any recognition? The solution: willingly go along with the programmers, who in turn often hand over the helm to curators.
On Friday, for example, the tide leads to restaurant/pop venue Le:en where a woman buries her face in the bell of her saxophone. Kirsty Tickle from the Australian duo Party Dozen shouts lyrics in brass about dark trash and metal. Next to the drummer she lets her sax screech like an overdriven guitar: one hand on the valves, one hand in the air. Then Tickle shouts that she doesn’t have much time to sell records afterwards; she wants to visit the festival herself. Maybe musicians will find LGW? even more fun than the audience.
Or you end up stranded on an island in the Pieterskerk with 83-year-old Tucker Zimmerman, a forgotten folk singer who made the acclaimed album ‘Ten Songs’ half a century ago and fell into oblivion. Now he is back through a collaboration with indie band Big Thief (not present) and fills the church with a story about Lorelei and a Chinese song that does not sound Chinese, but like bluegrass.
At night, a warm sea current flows towards the Kabul à GoGo club, where another curator, the South London collective Touching Bass, pays an hour-long tribute to British-Caribbean sound systems. While soul food is served from stalls, dub DJs Aba Shanti-I and King Jammy almost make the building collapse under the bass from an impressive wall of amplifiers.
Musical father
Sometimes a tall tree grows on the mangrove roots. Pakistani singer Arooj Aftab impressed at LGW? three years ago. She later returned to festivals such as Down the Rabbit Hole, North Sea Jazz and Lowlands. This year she is a curator in Utrecht and can show her own roots: including a film about her musical father. Anyone who manages to escape the main hall on Saturday can see Aftab’s protégé Sheherazaad. This American singer also uses her Indian roots and flutters theatrically along the old verses with absolute voice control.
After moving dance and breakdance to enchanting North African zar traditions, Elsisi gives the turn to multi-instrumentalist Jowee Omicil in the main hall. In between his spiritual jazz grooves he talks about the legendary Haitian slave revolution. It works better than the somewhat academic texts that Elsisi projects. History lectures will come later, first the Venezuelan DJ Babatr will make the room explode with raptor house from Caracas. South African singer and actress Sho Madjozi excels with bouncy beats that only she and the two dancers can keep up with.
These winding mangroves of Elsisi appear to be more reliable than the solid ground of the other program. The Saturday evening in TivoliVredenbrug ends apparently logically with an example of the African migration that dominates the pop landscape after all these centuries, with neo-soul singer Yaya Bey. But the American rising star misses the point. She slows down, speaks agitatedly with her back to the audience, apparently under the influence and completely uninvolved in the ambitious project. What a contrast with the dozens of other musicians from all over the world who, together with the festival organization, went through long, tiring journeys to get them into the country.
The festival dedicated an exceptional statement to the bureaucratic opposition to allowing non-Western musicians to play here: ‘inclusivity (…) is an illusion as long as the Netherlands does not open the door’. But against the odds, Elsisi’s mangrove journey continues in the Kabul á GoGo club, where people dance until the morning to afro-tech, amapiano, kuduro and reggaeton, to music history.
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When Historians Rock the House: The Le Guess Who? Festival
Ah, the tried and tested archetype of a historian: spectacles perched precariously on their nose, a world of dusty archives swirling in their minds, and perhaps a slightly crumpled waistcoat. Now, throw all of that out the window and bring on the cheerleading, the body-popping, and the rolling bass—because British-Egyptian Hannah Elsisi is here, and judging by the crowd at the Le Guess Who? festival, she’s not just flipping through a dusty tome; she’s flipping the script!
This past Saturday, in the delightful maze that is Utrecht, an academic was granted the kind of stage usually reserved for rock gods and queendom aplenty. Elsisi launched her grand project Chromesthesia, and instead of stuffy applause, she was met with shrieking, whooping, and a sense of general rapture that can be likened to a football crowd celebrating a last-minute goal! She had them all dancing, jumping, and maybe even sobbing onto their shoes. And not a single one of them cared that she is, indeed, an academic.
Festival Feasting on Ecstasy
Now, one might think that the festival atmosphere was merely a carnival for the tickled fancy, with the eclectic lineup attracting adventurous souls. But no! The fantastic Le Guess Who? festival was up to something else entirely—actually giving people something to dance about.
The opening act was the afro-futurist band Sonic Interventions from Berlin, kicking off the night with a genre-spanning cocktail that sent attendees into an ecstatic frenzy. Hip-hop? Check. Trance? Check. Jazz and African traditions? Why not! The main hall of TivoliVredenburg was reverberating with the collective heartbeat of a thousand musical threads, and folks were practically levitating off their chairs! And did I mention the Egyptian DJ 3Phaz? Pairing pre-Islamic tunes with contemporary beats—if that doesn’t make your grandma want to do the cha-cha, I don’t know what will.
Obscurity: A Musical Narnia
But hold onto your hats, folks, because if you thought navigating the festival would be a walk in the park, think again! The programming this year was so obscure it could be a David Lynch film. Seriously, if you knew more than ten acts, you were likely a music industry insider or a compulsive traveler (who, let’s be honest, probably spent their time getting lost on purpose). As it turns out, a little bit of delightful chaos is just the thing to bring a crowd together—after all, who doesn’t get bonded by the confusion of trying to find the right venue?
One minute you’re in a saxophone-filled eatery, watching Kirsty Tickle screech jazz lyrics while juggling her brass like a circus performer, and the next, you’re in a chapel with the incredible Tucker Zimmerman crooning folk like it’s still the 1970s! Ah, the beauty of being lost in a festival like LGW?
The Roots of Rhythm
And listen, music has fathers too! Remember Arooj Aftab, the astonishing Pakistani singer who had everyone talking three years ago? This year, she was back, and of all things, she was curating! But wait a second—give a moment to her protégé Sheherazaad. This American Robin Hood of song took us on a melodious adventure that harked back to her Indian roots. Honestly, if her voice had legs, it would have danced off the stage!
Yet, let’s not forget the encore that blasted separation out the window with the Venezuelan DJ Babatr unleashing a raptor house set that had us all questioning our life choices. Meanwhile, South African singer Sho Madjozi whisked us along with her infectious beats that would give even the most stoic of souls a reason to move!
Wrapping Up the Night with a Dull Thud
But dear reader, as evening turned to night, the crowd was left with a bitter, unexpected bill. Neo-soul singer Yaya Bey came sailing onto the stage like an overly dramatic shipwreck. Instead of inflating the energy of the moment, she deflated it faster than a party balloon. Speaking to the crowd while turning her back on them? Riveting! A glorious contrast to her enthusiastic contemporaries who shared their music and energy like they were but pieces of a larger musical tapestry.
The festival organizers, with eyes on increasing inclusivity at the festival, had put forward a bold statement addressing the bureaucratic barriers faced by non-Western musicians. The music industry is changing, but boy, was it a sad sight when one of the evening’s highlighted acts strolled about as if indifferent.
But fret not! Elsisi’s journey through the mangroves of sound still beckoned at Kabul à GoGo, where the crowd danced till morning, wading through the electric waters of afro-tech, amapiano, kuduro, and reggaeton. Truly, this festival was proof that while academia may have its roots in history, it’s often the audacious beats that keep us grounded. So, grab your dancing shoes and dive in—it’s going to be one heck of a ride!
How often does a historian manage to transform an audience into a rapturous crowd, bursting with cheers, whistles, and an insatiable demand for more? How many academics can ignite a packed concert hall to sway, jump, weep, and continue dancing for hours on end? On Saturday, the British-Egyptian scholar Hannah Elsisi, affiliated with prestigious institutions such as Cambridge and New York University, seized the spotlight at the Le Guess Who? festival in Utrecht to unveil her ambitious project titled Chromesthesia. The festival showcased its richness in musical diversity and creativity.
While festival-goers were presented with a plethora of enticing options, many found it nearly impossible to peel themselves away from the vibrant atmosphere of the TivoliVredenburg main hall. Kicking off on Saturday at six o’clock, the event featured the Berlin-based afro-futurist ensemble, Sonic Interventions, whose captivating blend of hip-hop, trance, jazz, and African musical traditions ignited a wave of ecstatic applause from the audience. Following this, the Egyptian DJ 3Phaz gracefully took the reins alongside Saudi singer Msylma, creating a mesmerizing fusion of pre-Islamic melodic tradition interwoven with contemporary club sounds, marking just the beginning of an exhilarating twelve-hour journey orchestrated by Elsisi, where she guided her audience through a rich tapestry of music reflecting a millennium of migration from Africa.
In her scholarly exploration of the Afro-diaspora, Elsisi cleverly employs the mangrove as a powerful metaphor within her visual displays in the venue. This metaphor aligns seamlessly with the festival itself, Le Guess Who? (LGW?), often described as the mangrove forest of global music festivals. Similarly to how mangroves serve as crucial nurseries for biodiversity, covering a mere 0.3 percent of the earth’s surface yet nurturing countless species, LGW? curates a diversely flowing program that brings together myriad sounds from both fresh and saltwater realms. The festival’s roots stretch through the heart of Utrecht over the course of four vibrant days, showcasing more than 200 artists across 23 distinct locations.
Obscure
This year’s lineup seemed even more enigmatic than previous editions, leaving many attendees puzzled. For those familiar with only a handful of acts, one might believe they are either part of the music industry or are intrepid adventurers, a description applicable to a significant portion of the festival’s international audience. For the average attendee, navigating this eclectic landscape devoid of mainstream headliners can pose a challenge; thus, a popular strategy involves trusting the festival’s programmers, who often collaborate with various curators to guide the experience.
On Friday, for instance, adventurous souls found themselves at the Le:en venue, where a mesmerizing performance unfolded as an artist buried her face into the bell of her saxophone. Kirsty Tickle from the Australian duo Party Dozen delivered haunting lyrics delivered through brassy melodies intermingled with themes of dark trash and metal. As she expertly manipulated her saxophone, one hand on the valves and the other raised to the crowd, she teasingly expressed that she had little time to promote her own music, eager instead to immerse herself in the festival experience. It raises the intriguing notion that perhaps musicians cherish LGW? as much, if not more, than the audience itself.
Attendees might also uncover unexpected presentations, like that of the 83-year-old Tucker Zimmerman, a long-forgotten folk artist whose 1970 album ‘Ten Songs’ once earned critical acclaim. Reinvigorated through a collaboration with indie band Big Thief (who were not present), Zimmerman regaled listeners in the Pieterskerk with enchanting tales, singing about Lorelei alongside a Chinese tune that, intriguingly, bore the flavor of bluegrass rather than its native melodic roots.
As night descended upon the festival, a palpable energy surged toward the Kabul à GoGo club, where another curator, the South London collective Touching Bass, hosted a tribute dedicated to British-Caribbean sound systems. Guests indulged in a feast of soul food from local vendors while experiencing the overwhelming vibrations from legendary dub DJs Aba Shanti-I and King Jammy, whose mammoth sound systems nearly shook the club to its very foundations.
Musical father
Occasionally, towering trees emerge from the nurturing roots of mangroves. Pakistani singer Arooj Aftab, who made waves at the LGW? festival three years prior, has since graced other renowned events like Down the Rabbit Hole, North Sea Jazz, and Lowlands. This year, she stepped into the role of curator in Utrecht, showcasing her artistic lineage, including screening a film that pays tribute to her musical father. For those who manage to escape the main hall on Saturday, the opportunity to witness Aftab’s protégé, Sheherazaad, presents itself. This American vocalist, drawing on her Indian heritage, captivates with her theatrical delivery and exceptional vocal prowess as she navigates ancient verses.
After Elsisi moved gracefully between dance and captivating North African zar traditions, the stage was handed over to multi-instrumentalist Jowee Omicil, who wove spiritual jazz grooves into discussions of the legendary Haitian slave revolution. This moment resonated deeply with the audience, surpassing the academicism found in some of Elsisi’s earlier presentations. Following Omicil, Venezuelan DJ Babatr set the stage ablaze with explosion-inducing raptor house from Caracas, while South African singer and actress Sho Madjozi dazzled the crowd with her buoyant beats that only she and her two dancers could match with such spirited energy.
As the musical threads spun by Elsisi intertwine seamlessly, they seem far more substantial than the rigid program offered elsewhere at the festival. Conclusively, Saturday evening at TivoliVredenburg commenced fittingly with a demonstration of African migration’s enduring influence on contemporary pop, featuring neo-soul singer Yaya Bey. However, in an unfortunate twist, the burgeoning American star appeared to detract from the ambience, falling short of engaging the audience as she turned her back, seemingly distracted and disconnected. This stark juxtaposition shone a light on the many other dedicated artists who embarked on arduous journeys alongside the festival organizers, all to share their passion for music.
In response to mounting bureaucratic obstacles limiting the participation of non-Western musicians, the festival made an exceptional statement regarding the pressing issue of inclusivity: “Inclusivity (…) is an illusion as long as the Netherlands does not open the door.” However, against all odds, Elsisi’s exploratory journey ventured onward at the Kabul à GoGo club, as attendees danced into the early hours, swaying to the infectious beats of afro-tech, amapiano, kuduro, and reggaeton—all resonating with the pulse of music history.
Al melodies into his performance, evoking the rich cultural tapestry of both his Haitian roots and broader global influences. The evening showcased a harmonious blend of genres, seamlessly transitioning from the ethereal sounds of Omar Souleyman’s Syrian electronic music to the pulsating rhythms of Batida—creating a reflective journey through time and space.
One highlight was the exuberant presence of Sho Madjozi, whose vibrant South African rhythms infused the crowd with an infectious energy that had everyone moving. Her performance resonated deeply, drawing from a heritage rich in musical heritage yet aligned with contemporary global perspectives.
Yet, as the festival crescendoed into the late hours, the mood shifted dramatically. Neo-soul singer Yaya Bey’s set transitioned from anticipation to disappointment as her performance was marked by an unsettling detachment. Instead of engaging with the audience, she seemed more interested in her own narrative, turning her back to the crowd while sharing her thoughts. This disconnection starkly contrasted with the previous acts, highlighting the multifaceted nature of live performance as a shared experience.
Despite this lull, the festival curators’ commitment to diversity and inclusivity remained unwavering. As the night wore on, the soulful grooves of Elsisi’s project beckoned festival-goers to explore rhythmic landscapes that transcended ordinary experience. Kabul à GoGo became a sanctuary of sound, where the melding of genres from afro-tech to kuduro exemplified how music can forge connections across cultural divides.
By the time dawn broke, attendees emerged enriched by their experiences—a blend of obscure artistry and palpable rhythms tugging at the very fabric of cultural understanding. In this realm of delightful chaos, the music played on, reminding all that in the world of live performance, it’s often the unexpected twists that create the most memorable moments. So lace up those dancing shoes and prepare for another delightful descent into the heart of sound, for within the mangroves of LGW?, music continues to evolve, delight, and unite.