If you’re at all keen on the South African live music scene, you’ll know very well who Muhammad Dawjee is. In addition to heading the Dawjee Trio whose roots are enmeshed in South African jazz and original compositions by Dawjee and his bandmates, the saxophonist is involved in several significant projects, including but not limited to The Brother Moves On, Kinsmen, and previously iPhupho L’ka Biko. I had coffee with him and asked about his origin story, creative process and upcoming projects including a gig in Melville on the 30th of August.
I began by asking about Dawjee’s upbringing and his earliest memories of music. “There’s a memory that I have,” he recalled. “You know how it is with those young memories, you don’t know if it really happened. But it’s so strong, you feel like it’s there. So, I grew up in Laudium, in Pretoria, it’s an Indian township, right? […] Laudium didn’t have much music, but there were all these interesting connections to the coloured community in Marabastad through my father, my father’s family, and my grandmother—my father’s mother, bought a piano for my sisters and that was like quite a luxury. […]
So, the piano was there. And, this is my grandfather’s, like, um, living room, which was also the place where he would watch the news. He used to say, ‘You didn’t have to go to school if you read the newspaper.’ So, it was like this overlap […] in the evenings cos that’s when my sisters would practice. And I remember, I would fall asleep with him watching the news. […] I was like seven. […] So this memory I have is one day that my sisters had finished playing piano and […] I was curious, so I went back to the piano and I started just like, playing it.”
While his mom wasn’t so keen on the idea of music as a pursuit, Dawjee’s father nursed a clandestine calling. “My dad had aspirations of being a musician, but I think he also didn’t really know what it meant, or what it was, I think it was just romanticism. He was a dentist and when he started working, he didn’t tell my mom that he bought the saxophone because apparently they needed a fridge,” Dawjee recalls with a combination of admiration and amusement. Clearly, his father’s musical yearnings made their mark and the saxophone became a symbol of both unfulfilled dreams and ardent resolve.
While initially pressured to study architecture, which he enjoyed and excelled in, Dawjee was already performing with Abdullah Ibrahim by his second year. He then began sessional teaching for some years. “And then after that, I realized I had to make a choice,” he says. “But before I did that, I just started playing. I started practising. In 2018, I worked like three jobs. I’d take my horn to work and practice at lunch in the parking lot. […] It becomes really difficult to be creative when you’re worried about money.”
Listening to him talk about balancing multiple jobs while carving out time for his craft, I couldn’t help but draw parallels to his father’s story, working a “proper job” while practising saxophone in between. Perhaps the difference is in the younger Dawjee’s courage of conviction. As an only son, his family’s expectations were extremely high, so following his path despite the threat of failure was a radical revision of an unkempt narrative. Dawjee’s music sweetly articulates this approach, merging what exists and what could be.
Gwen Ansell’s 2021 Mail & Guardian article discussed Afr(ind)ian Fiction, Dawjee’s collaboration with Kinsmen and Zimbabwean artist Othnell Mangoma Moyo, named after Pallavi Rastogi’s Afrindian Fictions (2020), which explores how South African Indian writers address race, identity, and cultural belonging. Noting how South African Brown identity could be regarded as a fiction in and of itself, Dawjee seems to have expanded on this idea in his sonic sojourns. “It’s about finding that perfect blend where tradition meets innovation, ensuring that the work remains true to its roots while exploring new horizons.”
Now, as a new father himself, Dawjee is setting an example for his daughter to be spontaneous and open to the callings of the cosmos. On their regular walks by the Melville Koppies, Dawjee observes his daughter’s sense of play and adventure and reflects on how this plays out in his music. “I try to hang back in my parenting as much as I can. I don’t get too involved because I love seeing how she sees things,” he says. His approach to fatherhood involves a deliberate presence and observation, not dissimilar to his approach to music.
In his various projects, Dawjee can be seen humbly playing in communion but nowhere is this strong sense of play more apparent than it is in his own trio, where he finally takes centre stage, which he rarely does. In these precarious moments, Dawjee’s wailing sax allows us to take note of the in-betweens. The parts that may be buried by the practicalities of life. “Maybe it’s because we’re not giving space to other things.” Throughout our deliberation, Dawjee talked earnestly about routine in creativity and how new paths are borne from that.
“Jazz tradition and South African music are my first loves. They’re the primary sources I draw from,” says Dawjee about the essence of his compositions. When I asked about the means of disseminating them, he responded, “The audience is the fourth member of the trio.” The Dawjee Trio, which includes Siphiwe Shiburi on drums and Romy Brauteseth on upright bass, will perform Dawjee’s original compositions on August 30th at @chiesadipazzolupi, featuring special guest Gabi Motuba, who will also be performing at the UJ Weekend of Jazz.
Click here for tickets!
