One musical encounter certainly deserves another

Duncan Graham, Contributor, Jakarta

On Dec. 28, 2002, former Suriname citizen Denise Jannah was waiting at a bus stop in Utrecht, Holland.

Alongside her were two plastic bags of groceries. There was little more on her mind than getting home and cooking a meal.

A stranger approached. As Jannah told The Jakarta Post, the chance encounter "took on its own life" -- and changed hers.

By now you probably fear this is going to be one of those awful I met a suicide bomber stories. It's not, so read on. This has a happy ending.

The stranger asked if she could sing Jannah a poem, not knowing the bag lady was a jazz singer. In the chill of a Dutch winter notes were exchanged -- of a musical variety.

The last things Jannah had bought with her groceries were a notepad and pen that she used to write down the verse. "It was meant to happen," she said.

Now Jannah has added a range of poems to her performances, and set these to her own music. They include the offering from the bus stop chat. This translates as: "If I should die tomorrow, tell the trees that I loved them."

In the first half of Jannah's concerts in four Indonesian cities were nine sung poems. Her style is reminiscent of British jazz artist Cleo Laine, who uses Shakespeare's sonnets, but Jannah's work is more accessible.

The results are charming even though the words are not always understood. That sounds contradictory because the multilingual artist slips to and fro between Dutch, Suriname, Afrikaans, English, Indonesian or whatever. However before each poem she explained its provenance and meaning in English.

So even if you are not fluent in the tongue of Curacao you will not be left wondering. Or wandering.

Making the experience more palatable is Jannah's ability to segue from chat to chanson with butter-smoothness. Her unfaltering control over syllables and consonants is the result of decades of discipline. Even her self-taught English would challenge the clarity of vowel-queen Julie Andrews.

In Holland, Jannah is also a vocal educator. She studied law at the University of Utrecht but switched to a degree in music at the Conservatory in Hilversum.

"I have been gifted by God with the ability to use languages and to sing," she said. "I'm very much a lyrics person. As a voice teacher I tell my students that song is speaking as a melody. The audience should be able to lean back and let the words come to them. "The poetry and the poet have to be treated with respect. It must at all times remain the poem and not get lost in the music."

No-nonsense woman

Jannah, the daughter of a Moravian Church pastor, finds the spirituality of Indonesia stimulating. "I pray and meditate," she said. "I ask for guidance and inspiration. I sought it in Borobudur.

Jannah sings of love and betrayal (Muddy Water Blues), and includes popular standards like My Funny Valentine, Misty and Killing Me Softly in her repertoire.

The result mixes golden oldies with original works that showcase her wide vocal range and deft handling of emotion. Apart from love, her themes tend to be drawn from nature.

Her on-stage presence is relaxed. Nothing distracts from the words and music. This is a singer who has no need for glitzy costumes, smoke effects and a leggy chorus to compensate for an absence of talent.

Props include tissues, a plastic bottle of mineral water and a small shaker that she uses while exercising her forearm to the rhythm. Her five-man backing group (contrabass, percussions, guitar, drums and piano) kept well in step with her mood and never let enthusiasm overtake or eclipse Jannah's presence.

That would be difficult even if the riffs ran away. She's not a Big Mamma in the Southern States sense, but a large, no- nonsense woman with a relaxed stage presence that belies her authority over the music.

Getting the balance right between maudlin sentimentality and raunchiness is tricky for any jazz singer. This is particularly so when performing in a concert hall where the audience has not been anesthetized by alcohol and lulled by intimacy.

She does not have the smoky edge of Eartha Kitt, and consequently is less sexually threatening -- or enticing. The exoticism comes from mystery of the mature woman rather than ethnicity. Here's a professional who makes singing look so simple that the audience has no reason to do more than relax and enjoy.

This wrongly implies "easy listening", a term corrupted by FM radio stations: Fast-food music -- simple to digest, no exercise required and guaranteed free of nutrition.

Jannah's music is certainly smooth on the palate but it stimulates the intellectual appetite without the audience realizing that they've tasted soul food.

Jannah is best known in Holland where she moved from tiny Suriname (in north South America - formerly Netherlands Guiana) as a child. She has performed throughout Europe, South Africa and the U.S. and published six albums.

Her concerts in Indonesia were sponsored by the Dutch community -- which has also asked her to return next year for a longer tour. So, if you missed out, keep your eyes on the What's On pages around February 2006.