By Jason Rubin

For the purposes of reflection and inspiration, there are few places in the northeastern United States as ideal and idyllic as Crane Beach in Ipswich, Massachusetts. With miles of shoreline welcoming the Atlantic tides, under the protective gaze of the verdant Crane Estate with its Castle Hill mansion and adjacent wildlife refuge, one can feel humbled considering the countless grains of sand under one’s feet, the blades of grass on the half-mile-long manicured lawn called the Grand Allée, and the drops of water in the expansive blue ocean.

It was in this location one day in 1979 that Susan Robbins was visited by an idea. An experienced and gifted singer and musician with a background in classical and early music, Robbins was in need of a new artistic path.

“I was at a transitional moment in my life and I was getting tired of the repertoire,” she says today, “all of which, of course, was written by male composers. I came of age as a feminist in the late ’60s and ’70s and I began to wonder what kind of music women were creating. Then the light bulb went on: I decided to gather together a group of women who were interested in discovering women’s music around the world.”

In October that year, 25 women gathered together in Cambridge and began to give voice to music that was either undocumented, unrecognized, hidden, or – in some cases – suppressed, the music that women made not for entertainment or profit but to accompany, enrich, and give meaning to their lives. Thirty-five years later, Libana (now a sextet but still brimming with passion and commitment) is still celebrating the women of the world through their songs, dances, and stories.

Clockwise from top: Susan Robbins, Marytha Paffrath, Allison Coleman, Lisa Bosley, Linda Ugelow, and Cheryl Weber.

A world of discovery

Old, new, East, West, the music that Libana unearths and painstakingly learns has rarely if ever been performed on stage for an audience until Libana does so. (Just consider the challenge in mastering musical works in so many different languages and non-Western scales, and especially songs and dances from cultures that favor oral tradition over musical and choreographic notation.)

“In many places, women’s music serves a utilitarian or spiritual function,” says Marytha Paffrath, a member since 1981. “It’s always had a purpose, based on family, farm, home, community, rituals. It’s not necessarily for public consumption and we believe that in that hiddenness there is a power.”

Libana take their name from a 10th-century Moorish poet, philosopher, and musician. Their musical mission has taken them from Cambridge to Bulgaria, Morocco, India, Greece, and throughout North America. Though their profile here and abroad is modest, in their target communities they have an impressive reputation. Libana’s recordings have been used by music educators, classroom teachers, choral conductors, in places of worship, and among those involved with earth-based spirituality and healing work. And when the group visits women in their native countries to learn new material, they are warmly welcomed and appreciated.

“We were asked to perform at a world music festival in Tangier in 2013,” says Robbins. “We performed the ‘Zar’, a healing dance that appears in different forms all over North Africa. As we began ululating at the start, all the women in the audience joined in. At the end we got a standing ovation. It was one of the most powerful performing experiences we’ve ever had. We were offering their tradition from the stage, respectfully and authentically, and that came across to them.”