It seems that the work of Wouter Swets is not well known in the Balkans—probably the reason is that his interest in the Balkans was directed so that non-Balkan audiences are brought closer to the once exotic musical cultures. Swets was an ethnomusicologist, composer, and musician who led the groups Čalgija (active from 1969 to 1995) and later Al-Farabi, and is considered as the motivator of the world music scene in the Netherlands. As noted in his “In Memoriam” (Crispijn Oomes, ICTM Bulletin [129] 2016:8), he conducted field research in villages in the Balkans and Anatolia in the 1950s. This first-hand fascination with these regions before the marketing launch of “world music,” as well as Swets’ position as authority in critics and collection, contributed to the reputation of his performing group, which acted as one of the pioneering “translating” groups of this unknown exotic music in the West and educator for music followers. Their discographic activity was therefore prominent, although it was not extensive (LP gramophone records Music from the Balkans and Anatolia 1––from 1978, and 2––from 1991; in addition to this, two posthumous discs have been released so far), as well as Swets’ work, especially when it comes to Turkish music.

The Turkish loanword čalgija in Macedonian language means both a type of ensemble and musical genre associated with urban folk music of oriental provenance. This is the repertoire that is represented on the CD, and is performed by a group of multi-instrumentalists on: kanun, accordion, tapan, clarinet, santur, tanbur, soprano recorder, kaval, baglama saz, bagpipes, oud, laouto, tambura, divan saz, darbuka, def, violin, gadulka and vocals. Examples of Greek (tracks 1, 7, 9), Turkish (tracks 4, 6, 12, 15), Bulgarian (tracks 2, 5, 10, 16, 18), Albanian (track 13) and Macedonian (tracks 3, 11, 14, 19) traditions are represented, as well as Armenian composition in folk spirit (track 8), all arranged by Swets. The example of Dutch poem from the sixteenth century (track 17) is particularly revealing, where Swets not only determined harmony, but also adapted metrorhythm of the syllabic text as aksak, as he argued that there was a connection between Gregorian chants and ilâhîler. Traditional urban folk music in the Balkans is a symbiosis of local folklore practices with influences of East (microtonality, scale, hemiola, melodic ornamentation, Turkish loanwords, and certain folk instruments) and West (square form, harmonisation, tempered instruments). That is why Swets’ “struggle” to conquer microtonality is interesting: as a classically educated organist, he did not play any instrument such good as he did the keyboard, so he abandoned even the accordion that connected him to the Balkan field, switching to the synthesiser that allowed him to experiment, which at the same time brought him criticism for abandoning traditionalistic approach (8).

This CD did not examine possibilities of specific music routes, but of Ottoman heritage. Thus, in almost every example, the tonal bases are interpreted through makam, and it is unclear what the “folkloristic form” of a certain makam means. Asymmetric metrorhythmical patterns are specifically analysed and examples are mostly of dance character. The gradation of the entire edition is achieved by compounding metrorhythmic patterns of examples and moving from those interpreted within the framework of makam to those read through the ancient Greek modes.

Detailed and informative notes on the material and process of creating the CD were presented by producer Michiel van der Meulen, music enthusiast behind micro record label TouMilou. The principle of commenting on the song is on Swets’ trail––it does not have his comprehension level, but it provides guidelines for further understanding of textual and contextual fundaments and Swets’ interventions. Descriptions contain original transcription of titles, data about performing ensemble of particular piece, metrorhythm, makam/mode/scale, song translation and comment about its origin or performance characteristics. It is crucially important that most of these examples recorded in the 1980s were published in 1991 (tracks 2–8, 11–13), but the editor wanted to give them a new context and attention––even though Čalgija was in its zenith and had prepared a new studio album, Swets did not complete the track notes (7). The editor decided to add interesting recordings of live performances (tracks 14–19) which especially demonstrate the good playing skills of Čalgija (the singing on the recording has a recognisable non-native diction) and its reception. On the CD we hear not only Swets’ “reconstruction,” but also van der Meulen’s retrospect of digitised recordings from almost forty years ago. In today’s context, this can be a call for thinking about the archiving of studio recordings and the relevance of unpublished material.

As frontman of Čalgija (photos 1, 3, 5, 6), Swets traced its style and repertoire. Aiming to revitalise the music of the Balkans and Anatolia before the Westernisation that came with the fall of the Ottoman Empire (1922), Swets researched Turkish classical music theory, arranged, and composed music for his ensemble in a way he considered reconstructive, and that characterised his style as neo-Ottoman. He composed instrumental ritornelli, arranged the tunes, but even made “corrections” of original sources by interpreting them in particular makam or aksak pattern. As the editor noted in the introduction, Swets’ experimentation with samples of folk music practices can be read as nostalgic examination of the thesis, “How might music from the Balkans and Anatolia have evolved if the large, polyethnic Ottoman Empire had not collapsed?” (2). Despite his field expeditions, Swets was not a reference expert of the Balkans, especially not for its musical history. This edition is intriguing with its depiction of music from the Balkans and Anatolia from the point of view of a fascinated and dedicated cultural outsider. This album is testimony to music intended for a subcultural group of Dutch community who wants new “ethnic” sounds and dances, which they could also connect with immigrants from the eastern and southern lands. It does not sound like a restoration attempt, but more like an imagination of mystical Ottoman Balkans through skillful variations of traditional urban folk music practices.