Memory, Melody, and Modernity: Teshome Mitiku and the Jazz Echoes of Ethiopian Soul













In a sunlit rehearsal room far from the bustling streets of Addis Ababa, an unlikely fusion pulses to life. The stage is shared by Teshome Mitiku — one of the golden-era legends of Ethiopian music — and Either/Orchestra, a Boston-based ensemble with a penchant for bending jazz into new geographies. Together, they weave an intricate musical tapestry that bridges ancient Abyssinian soul with the swing of American jazz.

The Emotional Core: Tizita

Teshome begins with an invocation of “Tizita,” often described as the Ethiopian blues. But as he explains, tizita is not just melancholy; it is memory embodied in sound. “Tizita,” he says, “refers to memories that cling to the heart — especially those we try to forget but cannot.” His mother played traditional tizita songs, saturating his childhood with melodies of longing.

The genre has evolved. Modern musicians experiment with “minor tizita,” which more naturally aligns with jazz improvisation and minor-key expression. The result is a sound both global and rooted, melancholy yet alive.

Vocal Styles and Modal Fluidity

Ethiopian singers are known for their unique articulation. They glide between notes, hover slightly above or below pitch, and bend tones in ways that defy Western musical notation. This technique, rooted in Ethiopia’s five-note (pentatonic) modes, gives the music its signature elasticity and emotional resonance.

Songs like “Anchi Hoye” showcase this vocal style. Translating to “my dear” or “my love,” the song becomes a meditation on music as life, and life as music. Teshome describes it as an anthem for those whose very identity is intertwined with melody.

A Historic Turning Point: Ras Tafari’s 1924 Visit to Jerusalem

A crucial turning point in Ethiopian music occurred a generation before Teshome’s rise. In 1924, Crown Prince Ras Tafari Makonnen (later Emperor Haile Selassie I) made a diplomatic and spiritual visit to Jerusalem. During this trip, he encountered a group of Armenian orphans in the Armenian Quarter — survivors of the Armenian Genocide who had found refuge at the St. James Monastery. Among them was a brass band of 40 musically gifted children.

Deeply moved by their performance and plight, Ras Tafari arranged for their adoption with the blessing of the Armenian Patriarchate. These children became known in Ethiopia as the Arba Lijoch (“Forty Children”). They were brought to Addis Ababa, where they were provided education, housing, and musical instruction.

Under the guidance of Kevork Nalbandian, an Armenian musician and survivor himself, the children formed Ethiopia’s first Royal Imperial Brass Band. Nalbandian would go on to compose Ethiopia’s first official national anthem, “Marsh Teferi,” which premiered during Haile Selassie’s coronation in 1930. His nephew, Nerses Nalbandian, would later help institutionalize orchestral and brass band traditions in Ethiopia.

This encounter did more than create a royal band; it planted the seeds for a national musical renaissance. It marked the formal introduction of Western orchestration to Ethiopian sonic traditions and laid the groundwork for future musical fusion.

Jazz Comes to Addis: Evolution of Modern Ethiopian Music

The 1940s brought further transformation. The Allied occupation of Ethiopia during World War II introduced American big band jazz, European classical music, and Western pop into Ethiopian cultural life. Military bases and radio stations became inadvertent conduits for global musical trends.

By the 1950s, Ethiopian musicians were fusing their native modes with Western instrumentation. Electric guitars, saxophones, and keyboards found their place alongside the krar and masenqo. Modern Ethiopian music was born, and by the 1960s, artists like Teshome Mitiku were at the forefront of this hybrid sound.

Ambassel: Landscapes of Loss

The song “Ambassel,” named after a rugged mountain range in northern Ethiopia, tells the story of a person returning home only to find that everything familiar is gone. It’s an allegory for exile, change, and cultural erosion. Performed with Either/Orchestra, the piece resonates as a collective elegy for a vanishing past.

Rhythmic Invention: The Chikchika Beat

Another layer in Ethiopia’s sonic story is the chikchika rhythm, a 6/8 meter thought to have roots in Italian military music during the 1930s occupation. Named by one of Ethiopia’s greatest trumpet players after its “chick-chick” percussive pattern, this rhythm became central to countless songs, giving Ethiopian pop its infectious bounce.

Across Oceans: Ethiopian Jazz and Its American Kin

Why does Ethiopian music resonate so deeply with American jazz musicians? Shared African roots play a part. The pentatonic scale, call-and-response vocal patterns, and emphasis on improvisation align closely with blues, jazz, funk, and even rock traditions.

Either/Orchestra’s fascination with Ethiopian music is not just about exoticism; it’s about kinship. The melodies feel familiar. The rhythms swing. The stories translate.

Culture Beyond Notes: Doro Wat and Diasporic Taste

Before the final encore, the conversation shifts briefly to food. Teshome beams as he mentions doro wat — the rich, spicy chicken stew served during Ethiopian holidays. Like music, it is both memory and ritual. For those in the diaspora, it represents a cultural homecoming on the tongue.

A Living Archive

As the final notes fade, Teshome Mitiku bows with gratitude. The performance has been more than a concert — it’s a transmission of history. From Ras Tafari’s serendipitous encounter with Armenian orphans in Jerusalem to the modern-day fusion of jazz and tizita, Ethiopian music tells a story of resilience, adaptation, and beauty.

Teshome’s work with Either/Orchestra reminds us that music is not just sound. It is memory. It is diplomacy. It is survival. And above all, it is alive.