Witch Camp — I’ve Forgotten Now Who I Used to Be
Qobuz new release review (March 2021)
Throughout history, being a witch has often meant little more than simply being a woman who was difficult to deal with. In modern Ghana, where the tradition is still strong, “witches” are typically village widows (whose husbands had valuable property before they died) or women suffering from mental or physical illness. Rather than being supported by their community, these women are excluded and pushed out — often violently — and their property seized. One should not mistake this ostracism for an unmodern belief system — it’s sexism, opportunism, and oppression given a cloak of spiritual traditionalism. But it persists, and these women are often left with nowhere to go other than one of a half-dozen “witch camps’’ located around the country. Though the Ghanian government is attempting to close them, they provide, at the very least, safety and shelter, but not much else. In an effort to highlight the injustice inherent in their sheer existence, ethnomusicologist Ian Brennan went into several witch camps and recorded the “instant compositions’’ of their residents. Singing — or chanting in some cases — in local dialects and using instrumentation at hand, these 22 short recordings are emotional documentation, rather than the capturing of some folkloric traditions. The anguish, disorientation, and spiritual resilience of these women is apparent throughout, whether on a pensive melody like “Left to Live Life,” or the discordant blend of vocal tics and electronic-y distortion on “I Have Lost All That I Love.” On “Witch Song,” multiple voices, textures, and a driving, percussive arrangement combine for a piece that is largely unintelligible to English-speaking ears, yet completely relatable. The unrehearsed and unpolished nature of the performances (only one of the singers had ever sung by themselves before) and the seemingly improvised nature of the compositions (using everything from a deflated balloon to a tea pot for instrumentation) makes a casual listening session impossible; the insistent and heartfelt nature of the material combines with a dynamic and bracing recording technique to demand your attention. And, as with Brennan’s previous work with the Zomba Prison Project, your attention is necessary. By shining a spotlight on oppression using music, it becomes much harder to look away. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz
