Andrew Tracey has blown them all. He’s even showcased his gusty gift for Nelson Mandela when he was awarded his honourary doctorate in Cape Town in 2002.
Now in his fifth year of retirement, his comprehensive knowledge and love of African instruments still, ahem, plays a role in his life.
Andrew Tracey has blown them all. He’s even showcased his gusty gift for Nelson Mandela when he was awarded his honourary doctorate in Cape Town in 2002.
Now in his fifth year of retirement, his comprehensive knowledge and love of African instruments still, ahem, plays a role in his life.
With the Fifa World Cup opening ceremony in less than a month, traditional music seems to be distracting Tracey more than usual. “I don’t expect much in the way of tradition,” he said. “It will be mostly pop as there hasn’t been word of traditional music and dance.”
This disappointment becomes an even bigger blow to the music-loving mogul when Tracey lets us in on a revelation he made a few years back. The story begins in the depths of South African culture.
One note of music. A group of decorated and colourful tribes people dancing to the beat of drums, rhythmically moving and stamping.
In the background you become aware of a lilting sound threading through the louder components of the song, holding it all together.
The horn blowers. A handful of different notes emanating from tuned horns. There may be many horn blowers, but there are only a few different pitches.
The trick of perfecting this melody is a highly co-operative way of playing with each note coming in at exactly the right time.
Cue the vuvuzela. When they were first introduced a few years back in the same badly made, rough edged form we know so well today, Tracey was one of the first to really take note of its potential.
He realised that every vuvuzela was at exactly the same pitch, a B flat. “Doesn’t anyone know about the one note African tradition?” he exclaimed.
From then on he set about tuning the vuvuzelas by sawing off some sections. The thin plastic and weak craftsmanship meant that they weren’t the most comfortable instruments to play.
Tracey, always resourceful, contacted The Music Man of children’s television: Pedro, who found a way of strengthening the horns and so began the quest to tame the horrendous hooter.
Over the past three years Pedro has managed to raise interest with a sponsor allowing him to produce different sized vuvuzelas which play different notes.
Although real kudu horns are easier to tune, they are more expensive to acquire and so it had to be the plastic version. Pedro managed to get large groups of players together and started several vuvuzela bands.
Unfortunately, it hasn’t been possible to raise interest on a broader scale. The dream was to produce six horns, each playing a different note and each in one of the colours of the South African flag.
However, it seems that many South Africans’ devotion to blaring noise is not at all easy to diffuse. The World Cup looks doomed to be taken over by tuneless buzzing, despite Tracey and Pedro’s best efforts at offering a more musical alternative.
