Conductor: Lee Reynolds
Not even the acoustic magical ambience of the Symphony Hall can compensate for the seemingly intractable 
issue of Rap discourses set against the might of a full-on CBSO. Noble in intent, ambition and scope, it is a performance at odds with itself. Kinch is noticeably keen to get a cleaner mic balance but to little avail. It is therefore difficult to give full appreciation of his vocal delivery.
The evening’s CONTENT WARNING rubric ran -‘Please note that this performance will be accompanied by visuals, including hate groups, funerals, riots, protest and police action – some footage of which includes violence that some audience members may find upsetting.’ So, just another Saturday night on Broad Street then. These ‘trigger’ notices are all the rage it seems. Anticipate as much for future Macbeth productions perhaps? -portrayal of misogyny against women of Wikka persuasion, arboreal trauma brought about by English military expansionism (also contains scenes of murder, rape and descriptions of horses upset by thunder and lightning).
The ‘Message’ is set out with dis-ambiguous vigour. Disparate archive imagery of Civil Rights protests, police brutality (oddly no Rodney King/George Floyd footage), insistent but hardly subliminal noir treated low-angle stills of Empire iconography featuring unicorns, Landseer’s lion sculptures and, inevitably, Ivor Roberts-Jones’ Churchill. A solitary Union Flag is given full-colour attention. Point taken. Statues are contentious focal points lent controversial emphasis with Colston’s being given an involuntary dip in the Briston docks several years ago. Statues of intimidation versus statutes of limitation? Discuss. Disembodied audio samples emphasize the montages – ominously opening with Boris Johnson’s faux gravitas pleading for all good citizens to obey the emergency requirements of the Covid lockdowns (lent further irony given his recent self-propelled hagiography). Kinch, his electric/stand-up bass (Nick Jurd) and percussionist Louis Hamilton-Ford are lent striking prominence in their all-white attire juxtaposed against the sombre black dress of the orchestra. Rick Simpson provides emphatic piano embellishments.
The programme notes relate that, ‘The piece is deliberately danceable and intentionally seeks to subvert the expectations of orchestral music.’ The former is noticeable in its absence, the latter speaks for itself. The performance title White Juju presumably takes a wry spin inversion on ‘Black Magic’ with all its connotations. Hardly subtle – but then again the Message about colonialism, slavery and systemic racism isn’t either. Kinch’s renowned optimism is legendary but takes on a misanthropic darker edge with words to the effect of, ‘Sorry to traumatise you with the past four years – my opinion of humanity has fallen through the floor.’ He’s not alone there. Seen through the cracked prism of Oppressor/Oppressed the tag ‘White genocide, black slaughter/The natural order,’ lends further emphasis lest the Message is lost.
Given that Kinch’s lauded rap and sax credentials go before him, tonight’s tone poems cannot but fail to be subsumed by the CBSO’s valiantly intentioned, dronal, orchestral manoeuvres in the dark. Significantly, given the past year’s experiences of mayhem in the Middle East, Rent-a-Gammon mob rioting, notwithstanding Trump’s dementia descent into racist, sexist rants, tonight’s Message somewhat pales though nonetheless remains apposite. White Juju was originally commissioned by the London Symphony Orchestra and Serious, supported as part of Serious Giant Steps funded by Help Musicians and Cockayne Grants for the Arts, the CBSO Programme notes. Here’s for an uplifting coda –
‘Ok changing direction a little bit, where does the name Soweto Kinch originate from?’
‘I was born 2 years after the riots in Soweto (a Johannesburg township). My parents were both influenced by Pan-Africanism, so my name had political, spiritual significance (thanks Mum). (May 15, 2007. British Hip Hop.)
Reviewed on 20 October 2024
