Abdullah Ibrahim: Water From an Ancient Well
NPR obit by Martin Johnson.
New York Times obit by Giovanni Russonello.
The Abdullah Ibrahim track I know best is gorgeous “Water From an Ancient Well” from the mid-’80s Blackhawk album of the same name. It is a septet, four horns and rhythm.
Don Cherry said:
These songs that he’s written have a feeling that they’re the same type of songs they built the pyramids with. Very old and typical African-Chinese, from the Mongolian. He can make you really aware of this timelessness. He’s planned a school in Swaziland, and Swaziland is where some of the oldest stones have been recovered.1
Carlos Ward, alto flute — Ricky Ford, tenor sax — Charles Davis, baritone sax — Dick Griffin, trombone — David Williams, bass — Ben Riley, drums.
The septet is an unusual combination: flute from Carlos Ward, plus lower instruments that are absolutely Ellingtonian. Charles Davis is prominent in the Harry Carney role on baritone sax, trombonist Dick Griffin delivers surreal growls, Ricky Ford starts his improvisation a la Paul Gonsalves. Both David Williams and Ben Riley are best known as straight-ahead masters of swing, but they play this pop beat like they were born to do it.
The first time I heard Ibrahim’s name was at Kenny Barron trio gig in the ‘80s, when Barron worked with a local rhythm section at the Artists’ Quarter. Barron sent the band away for a tune and played his own solo rhapsody “Song for Abdullah.” Soon enough I owned the Barron album Scratch with a good take of “Song for Abdullah.” However it was the gig that was unforgettable, this glamorous solo piano performance at a small club in the Midwest, a black American paying tribute to a South African.
Cherry is speaking in 1971, anthologized in Blank Forms No. 6. Thanks to Jeff Caltabiano for posting the quote on Bluesky.
He played here in LA at a club called Hop Singhs many years ago, solo. He played 2 sets, the second set started after ten, and it was well after two, closing time, and he was still playing. The club owner Rudy was so hip to what was happening, he closed all the entrance and exit doors very quietly, Some people had to go to work in the AM, but they stayed as long as they could, Rudy had now locked the doors so the police would not come and close everything down or the opening and closing door sound would disturb Dollar from his sonic meditations. He quietly led those people out the kitchen back door entrance to the outside world, He was Dollar Brand in those days, and Dollar kept playing he played until about 4:30 in the morning, occasionally stopping to sing or chant the words to the next piece, no water bottle, no announcing, just transcendent music. He transformed the club into a church of every listeners inner religion, everyone was in rapt attention hanging on the grooves and sound of his improvising. Some people were actually sobbing at the beauty being created. He was magnificent, and to me he will always be magnificent. He took us everywhere, The only other pianist I've ever seen transform a performance into a spiritual awakening was Horace Tapscott. This is what he gave me, and I am ever eternally grateful for his gift what music is.
I interviewed Abdullah for a long piece that ran in Musician Magazine in March 1990. (Archives of Musician are available online now.) I had to arrange everything through his manager. He was living in the Chelsea Hotel at the time. I heard him many times at Sweet Basil, with the South African drummer Brian Abrahams (who was also a vocalist, and made an LP called District Six with a group of other well-known South African musicians). I went to his wife Bea Benjamin's CD release press gathering as well. I think Abdullah played Water from An Ancient Well every time I heard him at Basil. ("Forget the word jazz," he said to me in our interview. "It's got nothing to do with jazz." )