David Hudson is an Aboriginal musician, dancer, painter, story-teller, documentary film-maker and actor. Born on Cape York Peninsula, in northern Queensland, Hudson grew up during the 'Assimilation Era', when Aborigines still faced the restrictions and indignities imposed on them by governments. Hudson was fortunate however, in that he was still able to study his people's cultural traditions. Hudson is a remarkable exponent of Aboriginal culture in that he has developed outstanding talents across the full range of traditional and contemporary Aboriginal expressive arts. He has performed and taught music, dance, mime and painting, nationally and internationally, to children and adults. He is also widely recognised as one of Australia's finest didjeridu performers and has recorded several solo albums as well as collaborating with various composers and musicians.

Hudson has also gained a diploma in Recreation Studies in the tertiary education system and played a large part in the development of Aboriginal culture as an Australian tourist attraction. In 1987 he was instrumental in the formation of the Tjapukai Dance Theatre troupe, which has performed to many thousands of tourists at Kuranda, in northern Queensland, and on overseas tours. The company has also won several tourism awards and is recognised one of Australia's premier cultural attractions for overseas visitors. Hudson's talent on didjeridu features predominantly on the Tjapukai Dance Theatre's album Proud to Be an Aborigine (19xx) which has sold in excess of 40,000 copies.

By virtue of his diverse artistic achievements and international profile, Hudson has been one of the key figures in the Aboriginal cultural renaissance of the last decade. He has also been able to successfully export his expertise and enthusiasm and has been a frequent visitor to San Francisco where I conducted the following interview. As it reveals, Hudson's multiple skills enable him to present a unique perspective on the didjeridu and its many and evolving roles as an instrument and icon. (Fred Tietjen)

FT: Where are your people from?

DH: My grandmother comes from the Guguyalangi people from a place near Laura, north west of Kuranda on the Cape York Peninsula of northern Queensland. I spent my early years on a cattle station. My mum worked as a cook. Those were some of my best times, and had the most influence on my life. Some of my relatives were Aboriginal stockmen. They were around all the time and they taught me a lot of things. They showed me how to be at one with the land and they showed me dancing and culture in general.

FT: Who has been the biggest inspiration and influence?

DH: My mother was my biggest inspiration and the biggest influence on my whole life. She's such a strong-willed person. I'm so much like her. She watched me grow and she nurtured me and educated me in an important way. She's always said, `You're an Aboriginal person. Be proud of who you are, you have something to offer the world.' And I believe that I have something to offer people around the world. And that's through music, song and dance. As long as I can remember, we always had a didjeridu in the house. When I started to play, I just played for my own enjoyment. I never knew that one day I would be performing didjeridu and presenting a cultural show for Australian people and audiences world-wide.

FT: Have other people influenced you?

DH: It wasn't until the early 1980s when I went to Perth, in Western Australia to attend college, that I met Richard Walley and Ernie Dingo and other Aboriginal people from the Middar Dance Troupe. Before I went to Perth, I think my circle was still broken, and by going there, the circle was getting closer and closer. Those blokes helped me complete my circle. They inspired me about my own culture and encouraged me to explore my roots. From that experience I developed a greater awareness that as Aborigines we have 40,000 years of living culture to share. After that, I began to think about returning to Cairns Queensland and presenting a cultural show. That's how the Tjapukai Dance Theatre was formed. I had to share this experience with others and forming Tjapukai was the way to do it.

FT: How did the didjeridu come to your people?

DH: In my grandmother's country, when folks heard the sugar bag, little native bees humming inside a log, they thought it was someone playing the didjeridu. But it was the sugarbag busily working making honey inside the tree. So the sugarbag led people to the didjeridu.

FT: How would you describe the way you play?

A. Definitely strong and intense. I try to do a variety of things so I'm making the sounds colourful. I'm not just blowing a straight rhythm. Because in the background I'm always trying to accompany the strong rhythms with lots of guttural grunts and growls.

FT: Who influenced your playing style?

DH: Two blokes come to mind. I was influenced definitely by Dick Roughsey from the Lardil people. I am also influenced by David Blanasi from the Northern Territories.

FT: What is it that distinguishes their playing?

DH: Overtones, traditional grunts, traditional understanding of the bush and rhythms that are purely sounds handed down from one generation to the next generation. That's what inspires me, not just to pick up a didjeridu and just play any rhythm, but to play specific rhythms that mean something.

FT. How do you compose a didjeridu song?

DH: I get my inspiration from [nature]. For example, if I see a large bird flying in the air, be it a pelican, I imagine the pelican is using his wings, he's floating and his heartbeat isn't pumping very fast, he's just gliding through the air. He's soaring. [I] can imagine myself doing exactly the same rhythm as what he's doing. And the amount of beats that his heart's beating, [that's] exactly how I imagine my style of didjeridu playing to be. I play like the pelican is flying. I follow his rhythm.

FT: Where do the rhythms come from?

DH: Rhythms come from the land. They come from inspirations from water and inspirations from the wind. You go on a journey, you play the rhythm of being on walkabout and the rhythms of everyday life. You also play what you feel from your heart. That's a more diverse style of playing, instead of playing the one monotone rhythm you're adding other sounds to the didjeridu to make it more colourful. People who don't really understand the didjeridu sound may find monotone didjeridu very monotonous If that's the case, you can start adding in animal calls, and dingoes and kookaburra to make the sound more interesting.

FT: What's the favourite song you've written?

DH: I would have to say Laura's Festival on my album XXXXXXX (19XX). That's just didjeridu. It just reminds me so much of the bush. And I imagine[d] a large gathering [at Laura]..It's a time of meeting old relatives you haven't seen for a long time. It's a time of gathering and a time of sharing. That's why I mixed in some bird sounds and some animal sounds around me, and that's exactly how Laura would [sound],so I incorporate the sound of the land in my playing of that song.

FT: When you hear Euro-American people playing didjeridu, what do you hear?

DH: They don't have that same rich, raw sound or that guttural sound happening. [They] play [in] more of a monotone rhythm, [they] don't use their voice box to get that really 'rrrghhh' [sound]. When you live in the country, you know how these things sound. You know how a dingo cries, in the bush, And how a kookaburra laughs. If you're a person from North America who's never heard a dingo before, how do you know what a dingo sounds like? You're trying to imitate something from a CD. To get the earth sounds and to get the richness of the bush sounds, you've got to go out and hear these things for yourself. There's no point in me trying to imitate a wolf, which I won't, because there are no wolves in Australia. You've gotta have that in you.

FT: What have you observed about the didjeridu's use in North America?

DH: I have seen people try to make the didjeridu into something different than what it is. They try to make the Aboriginal culture into something different than what it is as well. And if they don't know the facts, then they make it up. I've seen women players, Instruments made out of PVC pipe and agave cactus, and New Age `Healers' [playing it over peoples bodies while making up stories about the didjeridu.]

FT: Is the didjeridu used in any of these 'New Age' ways where you come from in Australia?

DH: No. Not where I come from. FT: Do you have a sense of how and why these people invent these things?

DH: Perhaps they're trying to find their own identity. I mean it's amazing. They look to Australia, not to their own land. Why don't they relate to their own culture? Why don't they relate more to the indigenous North Americans? It's similar in Australia. It's amazing how Aboriginal didjeridu players get more recognition overseas than back in Australia. That's how I see it. People in Australia don't know how to relate to the indigenous culture in their own back yard. For example, if I asked the average Australian today to name five Aboriginal tribes, I can guarantee you, they can't name three. But if you ask the same person to name five North American Native Indian tribes, they can tell you quite easily.

FT: Why do you think they do that?

DH: Perhaps, they place other cultures around the world as being more important than the original culture in their own back yard.

FT: How do you feel about non-Aboriginal players of the didjeridu?

DH: I think Aboriginal people have no problem with a lot of people playing didjeridu. It's only when non-Aboriginal people start being intrusive saying they want to be part of cultural things that are distinctly Aboriginal. I have heard people say things like, I want to part of the Goanna Dreaming or the Dreamtime. Well, they're not Aborigines for starters. This sort of insensitivity just shows they don't know what they are talking about. If you've lived with an Aboriginal family and lived the way of an Aboriginal person perhaps then you'd have an understanding of the culture and be accepted in a deeper way. There's too many folks out there that get into this trendy mode and want to be Aboriginal. Aboriginal people have no problem accepting other people as long as they are themselves. Why try to be something that you aren't? Just be yourself. I'm a black person, I don't try to be a white person. I'm proud of who I am. I have my identity and I'm happy with that.

FT: How do you about feel about people in North America who are making didjeridus commercially?

DH: Here in North America somebody makes an instrument out of PVC or agave cactus and they cost as much as $250. Why not buy the authentic thing? By buying the authentic instrument you support Aboriginal culture and help keep it alive. If an individual starting out can't locate an authentic instrument that's a different story. As a practice instrument, starting with a substitute instrument made of alternative materials could be the first step in a progression, with acquiring a real didjeridu as a final reward.

FT: Do you think Aboriginal people should receive royalties when non-Aboriginal people copy their intellectual property?

DH: Definitely. They owe respect and recognition to the indigenous people of Australia. If someone is making didjeridus in America from plastic pipes and agave cactus and they want to give recognition to Aboriginal people, probably the best way to do it is have the respect to come to Australia and meet Aboriginal people. Meet the elders and tell the folks what you're doing in America. Instead of just being in America and churning out PVC pipes.

FT: What are the advantages of playing an authentic didjeridu?

DH: The inside of a didjeridu has been eaten out naturally by termites. And all those little cracks and tracks that termites have lived in helps resonate that sound. It gives the didjeridu a warm, strong, earth sound. Something that PVC pipe can't create because these are all natural sounds, earth sounds. With a Didjeridu you are playing a piece of timber that comes from an ancient land. It's been made and painted by an Aboriginal person. It has that feel about it. you can get PVC pipe from a hardware store. That's like playing mum's vacuum cleaner, you know? It's a black spirit that's within. The didjeridu has its own independent sound that's an ancient voice. It has charm that's quite mesmeric.

FT: What do you mean by an `ancient voice'?

DH: Well, it's been made and played by Aboriginal people for thousands of years now. It's coming from the heart. It's coming from the land. It's a soul instrument. You feel it.

FT: What advice would you give to Euro-Americans taking up the didjeridu?

DH: This instrument has been played for countless generations. Play it from the heart. Play it for yourself. Give credit to the Aboriginal people of Australia. Don't take the instrument for granted or abuse it.

FT: As a didjeridu player/dancer/songwriter/painter, what do you have to offer Euro-Australia?

DH: 40,000 years of culture expressed through my art-forms. It's hard to compare 200 years of British and White Australian culture with 40,000 years of Aboriginal culture. [Just as] there is more to Australia than just meat-pies and kangaroos, blonde-haired people with blue eyes, and surf-boards. There's more to the Aboriginal culture than the didjeridu. I want non-Aboriginal people to be proud of the original culture of Aboriginal Australia. Take away the didjeridu, you've got art, you've got women's business, you've got men's business, you've got ceremonies. You've got Aboriginal people living in the modern times. We drive cars and live in houses. There are a lot of folks that still think that when they see you [in traditional clothing and decoration] that's how you dress every day of your life.

FT: How does the didjeridu connect to Aboriginal culture?

DH: Just as Captain Cook's telescope led him to Australia, you can pick up the didjeridu and use it like a kaleidoscope and realise that inside the didjeridu, are the textures of a culture that is still alive. You have all these little tracks and paths from the termites, and if you follow all the different paths, it will take you to the different aspects of the culture. You follow this path here, and it will take you to the rock art. Follow that path there, that will take you to the ceremony. You follow this other path and it will take you to someone who is living in the 1990s.

FT: What do you see yourself doing ten years from now?

DH: I hope see Aboriginal didjeridu recordings written down in musical notation. And taking that one step again. I would like to see the continuation of Aboriginal culture being re-lived and known throughout the world through cultural performance. That will be keeping it alive, and taking the influence of Aboriginal culture to the next level again. It's a progression (socially and culturally). Aboriginal people were taken for granted and considered unequal, then we're accepted into the mainstream, then we're given the right to vote, then as we are becoming more powerful our voice is being heard around the world. So in this form, music will go another step again. And it will be another voice that will be there for many, many years to come.

Author and David Hudson at his shop in Cairns