It was with a mixture of irony and reluctance that I entered the American Theatre on Saturday night to see Ash Dargan in Territory – A Journey into Dreamtime. Irony, because I was on my way to see a didgeridoo player in Hampton while my sister was currently on vacation in Sydney. Reluctance, because I had just reached a good part in Harry Potter’s latest book. Harry of course, was worth the wait (don’t worry, I won’t give anything away), and fortunately, Territory was worth delaying finding the next Horcrux.

I know. A didgeridoo concert sounds just plain bizarre. I’m a fan of the weird things though, plus I was curious as to how exactly a two hours concert of bass droning was going to be made interesting. I’m happy to say that my fear that the events planner for the American Theatre had gone a little off the rocker was entirely unfounded. Ash Dargan put together a well-planned show that both kept my interest and also educated me a little.

Personally, I’ve always been curious how a didgeridoo actually works. I mean, it just looks like a big tube that happens to have one end a little larger than the other. Well, that’s exactly what it is. A didge (that’s the short form) is made from a eucalyptus tree that’s been hollowed out by termites that only eat the soft interior of the tree, leaving behind a hollow tube. The marks left by the termites is what gives each didge its own unique sound. No two ever sound alike. Playing one is kind of like a cross between playing a trumpet and a kazoo. You’ve got the lip buzz going on, but you can also make sounds into it, which are then amplified and echoed and morphed to make the droning sounds we’re all familiar with from movies and Australian tourism commercials.

In his educational part of the evening, Dargan demonstrated a few of the unique and interesting noises a didgeridoo can make – including animal impressions. No, I’m serious. He demonstrated the sounds of a dingo (wild dog) barking and howling, a kangaroo jumping, a cockatoo calling, a kookaburra laughing, and in the comedic piece of the evening… a Mac truck roaring down the road and honking. The scary thing is, they all sounded real. Honestly, it was almost a little creepy. In fact, when he took his mouth away from the didge and imitated the kookaburra sans instrument it didn’t sound nearly as real.

I had two favorite pieces that evening, not counting the one with the Mac truck impression. I’d tell you more about that one, but really I think you just had to be there. My favorite piece each opened their respective acts. The piece that opened the show really illustrated how Ash Dargan tries to combine contemporary and indigenous music. This song blended the didge itself, a electric bass drum played by a foot pedal, and recordings of wildlife.

The beat was so driving and modern, I swear I felt like I was in a dance club. I was about to bust out the glowsticks.

The piece that opened the second half was a complete opposite. Dargan brought out an instrument (which he unfortunately did not tell us the name of) that looked like three wooden recorders or short clarinet that were connected at the mouth and fanned out making a triangle. One flute had no finger holes and was used for the drone, and the other two were used to create harmonies with each other, creating three note chords for the piece. This instrument had the most beautiful tone I think I’ve ever heard. It was so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes. You know those high, clear sounds that kind of make that bone in your ear vibrate? It did that, but in a good way. I forgot to write notes during that piece – all I could think was “damn that’s impressive”.

Those two songs (along with the Mac truck and animal impressions) were really the main things that stuck out in my mind from this concert. While I didn’t start getting bored until the very end of the concert (pretty well timed, I think), the other pieces sort of blended together in my mind. While I was amazed at the range of sounds a didgeridoo can make, I was glad of the multimedia screen in the back showing scenes from Australian. Otherwise I don’t think my interest would have been held for so long. Breaking up the second half by bringing in other instruments and doing the comedic song were very smart moves on Dargan’s part.

The majority of the songs were based on Aboriginal stories and mythology. The instruments are there to help tell the story. Just like a good storyteller will use different voices and sounds to show different characters, so does a didgeridoo player use his instrument. Most Americans being unfamiliar with the ins and outs of Aboriginal culture, Dargan’s videos certainly helped with the translation.

All in all, I enjoyed the evening. I found a new instrument to obsess over, I get a bit of consolation for not being in Oz right now with my sister, and the heightened anticipation let me stay up later to finish reading Harry. Plus I got my curiosity satisfied. Is it possible to make a didgeridoo concert interesting? Why, yes. Yes, it is.