The beat goes on
A musician reviving Papuan drum culture
The sound of the drum is low and heavy, like a heartbeat that rises and falls with the tide. It’s the sound of the kundu, the traditional drums that once heralded life’s milestones throughout Papua New Guinea and West Papua.
“In the past, music always had a function in my village: at ceremonies, festivals, bride prices,” says Papua New Guinean-Australian drummer and percussionist Airileke.
But with industrialisation, modernity and introduced religions, the ceremonies are no longer being observed in his village, and the kundu – also called gaba in his language, Motu – has almost died out in his village and many other urban areas in PNG and West Papua.
“Sadly, some things got left behind that were probably at the time seen as not so relevant.
Gaba was one of those things.” A drummer by heart and by family tradition, Airileke is on a mission to retain and revive the culture and rhythms of Papuan drums.
The Melbourne-based musician’s family is from Gabagaba, an hour south of Port Moresby, a hub of drumming and dance that became famous as a sing-sing ground. “That’s how our village got the name Gabagaba or ‘Drum Drum,’” he explains.
“So, most people in my village are not surprised that I followed the way to revive the tradition of gaba.”
As a music producer, Airileke has worked with such greats as legendary singers Telek, the late Tony Subam and legendary Australian indigenous band Yothu Yindi, and in 2015 returned to Port Moresby to direct the
Pacific Games opening ceremony. His latest project, Sorong Samarai, is the revival and preservation of gaba. “The gaba would welcome the
lakatoi (double-hulled canoes) as they returned from the hiri (trade voyages), we never used it for entertainment,” he says. “Nowadays, the gaba are used in other music, but it’s rare to see the traditional dances in my village.”
The drums’ shapes, functions and names shift and change around the region: tifa in West Papua, kundu in PNG’s widely spoken Tok Pisin
areas, warup in the Torres Strait, and gaba in his homeland.
“It’s the same drum, though the shape varies across the island,” he says, describing the cylindrical or hourglass shape of kundu, which range from light timber drums of about 80 centimetres in the Momase region, to instruments of up to a metre long in Central Province. And, unlike the European idea of the drummer sitting behind the rest of the band, here the drummer is the dancer.
The handheld drums dictate their drummer’s movements: the smaller drums allow for big, energetic moves from the drummer-dancers, while the massive headdresses and larger instruments of the Motuan dancers are married with
slower, more graceful actions. “Traditionally, it’s one man, one
gaba,” says Airileke. “Every man in my village would have his own
gaba and it was up to him to maintain it and keep it tuned with beeswax, and coconut oil to keep the wood well-maintained.”
The drum skin was traditionally made from goanna or file-snake skin, though recently there’s been a rise in possum, kangaroo or goat skins, and even rice bags or cloth that’s been soaked in mud, which is big in PNG’s urban areas.
“The secret of the gaba is its sweet spot,” says the drummer, who uses a modern set-up of
kundus mounted on stands and played with both hands. He has a full range of drums including subs – deep-sounding drums that have subsonic frequencies similar to what you’d hear in a nightclub or in hiphop music – which are up to three metres long. “They can really shake the earth!”
“You can’t get too excited and hit the gaba too hard,” he says. “The skins are quite delicate. But if you play it with the right velocity, it will sing … that’s the sweet spot.”
Ask him the best drummer he’s ever heard, and Airileke names his late grandfather, Boga Kwarara (aka Bubu Billy). “His gaba was always immaculately tuned and
would resonate throughout the entire village,” he recalls.
Airileke also learned from dancer, storyteller and drummer Markham Galut from Morobe Province, and he has travelled through West Papua and PNG collecting rhythms and songs, learning the different styles that characterise each region.
For his Sorong Samarai project, Airileke teamed up with PNG reggae duo Twin Tribe and a Papuan ‘supercrew’ including dancers the Roem brothers of Wamena, PNG rapper Sprigga Mek, PNG singer Jagarizza, rising Indonesia star Ukam Maniczy of Sorong in West Papua and Richard Mogu of Mailu.
Airileke and members of the team travelled from Sorong in the far west of West Papua to Samarai in Milne Bay Province, the far eastern point of PNG, crossing the Papuan landmass in 2016 in canoes, dinghies, buses, aircraft and by foot in a journey that took – on and off – about three months.
The group has also performed across Australia, including at the Sydney Opera House and in Vanuatu, blending traditional instruments such as conch shells,
kundu, tifa, gaba, warup and garamuts and high-tech electronic instruments.
“It is still rare to see kundu as a percussion section in modern PNG bands,” says the music producer. “My mentor was the late Tony Subam of the Sanguma band, the first band to adapt ancient traditions to modern music, and it’s still in its early stages.
“I believe the voice of our ancestors speaks through the
gaba,” he says. “I also believe it is the key to our future. It is the living voice of our identity and our sovereignty.”
The Sorong Samarai concert will be performed at the Huhu War Canoe Festival in Milne Bay on October 26–27, the National Kenu and Kundu Festival in Alotau in Milne Bay on November 2–3 and the Dua Dua Festival in Lae on October 20. See onepagelink.com/airileke.