Very sad to report that Steffen Basho-Junghans left this world on the 1st of December, 2022.
We planned to do this ‘crazy idea’ of filming a performance years ago, but life got in the way, and I didn’t get around to editing it until now, but it feels like the right time to share and a good way to remember the man (watch below), who not only created beautiful and transcendent music but had his own distinct way of being that you couldn’t ignore while being around him.
Meeting Steffen was like meeting an elemental force. I remember, when organising tours and shows for him, we’d stay up late, drinking and listening to records. I’d have to creep off to bed, unable to keep up, then I’d hear him rise early from his bed downstairs the next morning, ready for the next day. Meanwhile, I’d have to peel myself off the mattress and try and keep up. He was seemly unstoppable. I remember his guitar would be lying with its case open in the front room, and he’d be staring at it like it was a portal to another realm, and every now and then, he’d give the strings a little brush and warm sunlight would enter the room.
I remember driving through wide open landscapes with him, maybe between England and Scotland or in Thuringia, Germany, and he’d impress on me his relationship to the land and, most importantly, the ‘Landscape’. A word that I’ve been using more and more within the DreamWork that I now do.
I always had a sense that he was connected to the deeper truths, the deeper elemental forces, maybe more so than he was connected to this waking world.
As a DreamWorker, I spend most of my time during sessions reminding people that the animal spirits are coming to them and, yes these experiences or ‘ways of being’ are indeed ‘real’ and must be honoured. I never got to discuss my DreamWork with Steffen, as I entered into it more deeply during the pandemic. I was hoping to get the opportunity by getting him over to the UK once the plague had all blown over. Unfortunately, the tumour stopped this from happening, but we did manage to get another record out into the world during that unpredictable time (reviewed here by Folk Radio’s Glenn Kimpton), which I’m extremely grateful for. On the record is a tune titled ‘Eagle Dreaming’.
He once told me that he often dreams that he is flying over the landscape. I like to think that he’s flying high with the mastery of ‘eagle’ now, dreaming a new life into existence, full of cherry juice and pastries that he was so yearning for whilst in the hospital.
Rest in peace Steffen. I expect to see you in my dreams; why? because you have come so many times before.
Years ago, I had a dream that Steffen was found in his apartment; his face was green. Because I take my dreams seriously and always create an Action Plan from them, I contacted him to make sure he was ok. He informed me that they had found a tumour, and shortly after, I lost contact with him for about six months. I was fearing the worst. Around that time, my partner brought a copy of ‘tumblers from the vault’ by Syrinx. Whilst listing to ‘Hollywood Dream Trip’, a powerful tune that is incredibly melancholic and forlorn. One YouTube commentator put it, “this is like an introduction to the sunny morning of the last day of my life”.
Whilst listening, it got to me. I grieved over the next few months and tried my best to contact his family. Meanwhile, another dream came: I am with Steffen, and he is proudly bowing down and showing me that his hair has grown back (I believe he lost a lot during his treatment). I was a little confused how to work with this dream, was he in a happy place ‘on the other side’, or had he gotten better? Despite not hearing from him for so long, I acted out my Action Plan, which was to email Steffen again and tell him about the dream, and sure enough, he got back to me and informed me that he had made some progress and his hair had indeed grown back.
A death doula called Mary Clear, I am currently making a film with, told me in an interview recently, “so many people are screwed up anticipating death, it stops them from living a true life.” As it turns out, death can actually inspire you to live! And so we released Steffen’s latest album, ‘The Dancer on the Hill’, in 2020, which, like the painting he created for the cover and so much of Steffen’s work, is shamanic, transcendental and full of life.
We had been in contact only days before his departure, and he seemed to be focused on getting out of the hospital and onto dark beer, cherry juice and pastries, but I had been given a sign from the universe that was saying otherwise.
A friend had given me the LP ‘Clarinet & Piano: Selected Works, Vol. 2’ by Group Listening. Whilst giving it a whirl on the record player, I was happily surprised to hear their cover of Robbie Basho’s Blue Crystal Fire, and then a couple of tracks later, came their cover of ‘Hollywood Dream Trip’, and I was reminded of that period of grieving Steffen, and I knew. Precognitive dreams and waking synchronicities foretelling the future might not always be able to stop the future from happening, but they can act as an emotional pillow preparing you.
While ‘Hollywood Dream Trip’ is full of beautiful melancholy, and I can’t recommend you go listen to it enough, it’s important to remember and listen to Steffen’s music while grieving the man. It is medicine for the soul; it’s ‘at peace’, flowing and transcends sadness.
If anyone dreams of Steffen and would like to share it with me, please do via the contact form, which can be found on my website here.
Harry Wheeler