I play the didjeridoo with respect to the aboriginal people of Australia, and their continuing struggle for survival in our ever expanding modern world.
As this insturment spreads around the globe, knowledge of aboriginal rights and the continuing challenges faced by the first people of Australia go with it. This is something we can be thankful for, as increased awareness of their situation and evolution as a people can only be of great service in the perseverance of this very important culture.
My path with the didjeridoo began in1995 when my friend Cameron showed me how to make a didje out of a piece of PVC pipe. Around 6 months after that I had acquired my first Eucalyptus didjeridoo made by master Yidaki craftsman Djalu Gurriwiwi of the Galpu Clan in N.E. Ahrnem Land (in the Northern Territory Australia.)
Outside of my friend Cameron showing me the basic drone when I started, I've never actually taken any lessons before. Understanding the importance of creating an individual voice that is a reflection of my relationship with the didjeridoo, and of my personal journey as a musician, has been a primary focus for me.
Approaching the instrument with respect to the creative process provides me with the opportunity to enjoy the didjeridoo on a very personal, non-traditional level, and there is a beauty in its sonic depth.
The didjeridoo is as unusual as it is soulful, as expressive as it is primitive, and as organic as it is alien. An instrument with so few parameters, just a simple hollow log, that is capable of such a rich and complex sound defies conventional logic. The combination of its overwhelming harmonic complexity and the technique of circular breathing makes this possibly one of the most trance inducing instruments in the world.
Its sound invites us to discover the mesmerizing vibration of an age gone past - a piece of out of human history, untouched by the eons to show its self to the far future generations, waiting to teach us of a deeper place that exists within.