In 2009, filmmaker Olivia Wyatt flew to Ethiopia to document an indigenous music festival (the Festival of a Thousand Stars), only to learn upon her arrival that the government had canceled it.  Rather than admitting defeat, Wyatt opted instead to embark upon an epic road trip, visiting more than a dozen of the tribes associated with the festival on their own (very remote) home turf.  The mesmerizing footage of amphetamine-fueled spirit possession ceremonies, unsettling wedding rituals, and bizarre music videos that resulted boasts some of the strangest things that I have ever seen or heard.

Sublime Frequencies

I was initially a bit apprehensive about this release, as I don't have a very deep interest in tribal/indigenous African music.  Fortunately, Staring Into The Sun was a pleasant surprise on two fronts.  For one, there is some music here that is so bizarre and unique that it transcends mere "exotic curiosity" status and seems genuinely audacious and experimental.  The Borana Tribe's obsessively repetitious polyphonic singing is one such highlight, but it is the eerie and uncomfortably dissonant pan-pipe piece by the Dirashe Tribe that pretty much steals the show (the unpredictable horn blasts and ululations only make it better, as far as I am concerned).  Secondly, Wyatt's mini-book and film turned out to be much more fascinating and colorful than the music that they are ostensibly documenting.  That is not to say the music is inconsequential or poorly chosen, but it is an unavoidable fact that hearing a field recording from one of these performances is not nearly the same as experiencing it.  Wyatt's footage and writings provide a far more moving and intimate perspective.

The film follows an aesthetic that is typical of Sublime Frequencies films, as it is essentially a documentary with no conventional narrative arc or context/exposition.  Sometimes that can be a bit of an endurance test for me, as it is hard to keep sitting through a lengthy series of independent scenes that are not moving towards any convergence or resolution.  Fortunately, Wyatt has an impeccable eye for isolating and holding striking images which makes it very easy to get drawn in (and then trying to unravel exactly what is happening sinks the hooks a bit deeper).  The film would be most effective as a video installation–its a bit exhausting when taken in all at once, but it is the sort of thing that I could start watching at any point.

There are too many memorable scenes to recount, but the Herzog-worthy opening sequence of the Borana Tribe transferring water up a multilevel well was particularly mesmerizing.  As was the footage of a Hamar wedding–the groom has to run naked across a row of bulls and the bride gets whipped with sticks, as the resultant scarification makes her more alluring to men.  There is also quite a bit of surreal humor to be had, as Olivia breaks up her own footage with Ethiopian pop videos that resemble '80s MTV at its most kitsch, but with more AK-47s and long knives involved.  Again, however, the Dirashe Tribe handily eclipses everything else with their pan-pipe performance, as they look like a row of psychotic line-dancing ice cream men.  I'm sure that they will eventually surface in one of my nightmares somewhere down the line.

The accompanying book is a very entertaining and readable mixture of information about the various tribes and Wyatt's personal remembrances.  Again, she seems to intuitively grasp what is worth focusing on and what isn't.  She covers key anthropological and music topics (which instruments were played, etc.) with admirable concision, but thankfully devotes much more space to stuff like sex, hyenas, jail, and spirit possession.  It sounds like she had quite a trip.  I don't anticipate myself going back to the CD very regularly, but Staring Into The Sun was still a truly bizarre, fascinating, and eye-opening multimedia experience that captures some things that Western eyes and ears have seldom experienced.

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