Assignment 2: A Groovy Niche

In the hushed Sunday evening ambiance of downtown Winston-Salem, the Golden Flower Tai Chi Center seems a tranquil nook.
Inside, it's rumbling with vitality and spirit.

Associate professor Robin Bountourabi Leftwich acquaints me better with Tam Tam Mandingue Winston-Salem (TTMWS) at the cozy tea bar occupying a front corner of the center.

Robin began drumming at a very young age, and started learning the djembe in her teens. "I was born to do it," she says matter-of-factly, explaining her goal was always to become a better drummer. She never thought she would end up teaching, though it seems she grew into the role quite naturally.

In the course of her studies Robin has also learned how to build and repair djembe. Traditionally made from goat or cow skin, Robin uses alternative materials to head djembes for vegans like Carol, the professor leading the drumming workshop I came to observe.

A bell anklet serves as a metronome for Carol while she watches her students picking up some basic rhythms.

There are many reasons this West African drumming is appealing: all kinds of people from all kinds of backgrounds find it meditative, relaxing, and good for stress relief.

I overhear one experienced student's advice to a new drummer: "When you start thinking, just stop."

What attracts people the most, though, Robin says, is the sense of community fostered in the drumming classes and circles.

The djembe has always been an instrument of gathering and community; its rhythms function historically as a part of society. As Carol explains to her students, each rhythm has a corresponding circumstance, such as the naming of a child or an agricultural event: "It's almost like a story in music."

Here there are no performers nor an audience, no separation between the two. Everyone is a participant, interactive and interconnected.

Bill Scheidt, the director at TTMWS as well as a student of the famous djembe drummer and TTM founder Mamady Keïta, arrives to lead a more advanced circle of drummers.
I decide to stick around a little longer to watch.

Even serving as the rare (I suspect) non-drumming observer, it is nigh impossible to not be swept into the whirlwind of intertwined rhythms and beats.

The drummers themselves seem swept up in their musical conversation, speaking vociferously with both hands and understanding smiles.

The glorious, tumultuous din shakes my very bones, quite literally, as I feel, watch, listen to the drumming conjurers groove and percuss up their rhythmic storm.

I can't help dancing a little too on the way out, returning to that deceptively serene urban night.

*Thanks to Peter Sangimino, Bill Scheidt, Robin, Carol, and everyone who allowed me to vulture around the djembe classes for a few hours. =)