Music: The beautiful sound of freedom

Singer Yungchen Lhamo trekked a thousand miles to escape Chinese oppression in Tibet. Now she is captivating Western audiences with her ethereal voice and inner strength, reports Jane Cornwell

Yungchen Lhamo takes a photo album from her bag and carefully turns its pages with her long, pink-frosted fingernails. "That's me singing in front of 20,000 people at the Lilith Fair," she says in soft, lilting English, pointing to a tiny dark-haired figure in Tibetan costume standing alone on a vast stage. "And here are some of my new friends," she adds, gesturing to snaps of her wedged between Sheryl Crowe and Jewel, standing elbow-height alongside Michael Stipe, Lou Reed and Peter Gabriel, or with Annie Lennox's arm draped protectively around her shoulder.

"Growing up in Tibet under the influence of Chinese propaganda meant we were told only the worst sides of Western culture," says Yungchen Lhamo, 33, sitting straight-backed in green Tibetan chuba dress and long-sleeved white shirt on a record company sofa, her sheet of black hair splayed out behind her. "So to be able to come to free countries and perform amongst the most talented and successful musicians of the day is a great honour."

Yungchen Lhamo's name was bestowed on her as a child by a Holy Man. Translated, it means "Goddess of Melody and Song". She was taught to sing traditional hymns by her parents - a monk and a nun who were forced to marry and become farm labourers - at a time when all Tibetan Buddhist practice was banned by the occupying Chinese. She left her homeland out of necessity nine years ago, trekking 1,000 miles over the Himalayas to Dharamsala in Northern India, the home-in-exile of the Dalai Lama. "He told me I should use my experiences to clearly explain to people the situation in Tibet and to always believe I have an equal place on the world stage."

There, she met her Australian husband, Sam Doherty, a student of Tibetan Buddhism. In 1995 the two relocated to Sydney, Australia, where they began seeking platforms for Yungchen Lhamo's extraordinary voice. It wasn't easy. "It was a bit like 101 ways how not to get a gig," laughs Doherty, a striking figure with a Dali-esque moustache. Fingering her blue mala prayer beads, Yungchen Lhamo breaks from chanting the Om mantra under her breath to add: "It is because I am small, I have no big band, I don't speak English, I am a woman and people are not interested in spiritual songs."

Undeterred, she began busking outside the Sydney Opera House ("Living without freedom for so long stores an incredible well of determination in you"), and got herself a gig at Adelaide's WOMAD Festival at the time Peter Gabriel happened to be in town. Duly signed to Gabriel's Real World label, she recorded an acclaimed a cappella album, Tibet, Tibet, in 1996. This month sees the release of the studio-based Coming Home, produced by Frenchman Hector Zazou, of Bjork, Suzanne Vega and John Cale fame. While its themes - loneliness, hope, compassion and resolve - remain constant, it's a surprisingly experimental effort, mixing guitars, violins, drones and electronics in with Yungchen Lhamo's ethereal vocals.

It's also a response to the innumerable remixers who've asked to borrow her voice for dance tracks, in the same way Massive Attack and sundry others did the late Pakistani Qawwali singer Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. Peter Gabriel introduced her to Zazou at Laurie Anderson's Meltdown Festival in London last year. "Hector was someone who was able to listen to my voice with great precision, and the album reflects the experience we had of meeting each other. For me to learn, I had to take up these opportunities. Using my Tibetan voice with Western sounds is an expression of the freedom I have found here."

Her live performances remain purely a cappella. She has managed to silence lagered-up audiences at Australian rock gigs through the sheer force of her will - "I ask people to be quiet in case there are those who wish to meditate" - and also the spine-tingling effect of her presence. She says that when she sings, she does so in order to uplift and inspire listeners to pursue a spiritual path, and that she dedicates her songs to the Dalai Lama and all the Buddhas.

When Yungchen Lhamo first arrived in Sydney, she would rise at five to sing outside ("Tibetans hate singing inside," says Doherty), where dozens of birds would alight on the garden fence to listen. "If you sing in a sweet tone, animals and birds appreciate it as much as people", says Yungchen Lhamo. "Because the nature of the song is spiritual, it is of benefit to all human beings." As is the CD itself. The Coming Home disc is engraved with the Om Mani Padme Hum mantra of compassion which, when played, generates a similar energy to Tibet's spinning prayer wheels. "Even if people don't entirely understand, I really believe blessings can come from that."

Westerners, who spend so much time chasing that which can't sustain them, should be looking for lasting happiness. How, exactly? "Having arrived in the West and seeing all the remarkable technology, contraptions and gadgets... If Westerners are able to do these things, surely they can apply the same earnest endeavour to finding their spiritual path," she says naively, and makes perfect sense.

Yungchen Lhamo is beloved of the music industry in America, where she has appeared at events such as Sarah McLaughlin's women-only Lilith Fair, the annual Tibet House Benefit at Carnegie Hall and the Tibetan Freedom Concert in New York. For a while she and Doherty lived in the latter with Robert Thurman, the Tibetan scholar and actress Uma's father. "He and his wife gave me a wonderful feeling of home and family," she says.

Now Yungchen Lhamo is nomadic again as she embarks on a world tour. "We go in whichever direction the wind takes us," she giggles. Doherty rolls his eyes good-humouredly. Her travels have been empowering. "I am becoming more educated by the world, seeing the way Western women are able to live their lives. Here, I am friends with Annie Lennox and in America with (singer) Natalie Merchant. They are women who have helped me raise my expectations of myself and what I demand of Tibetan society and women."

And if lobbying for Tibet has become a highly fashionable industry cause, so what? "For thirty years," she says, "the problem has gone on and still the situation is very, very grave. The culture is on the point of extinction. Mainstream publicity can do nothing but help."

But now, before she sets off to appear on Jools Holland's Later, she really must get some super glue from Sainsbury's to repair the two torn fingernails she's hiding under fraying plasters. "But please say that I am very excited about this new record. I think it's very beautiful, and the music reflects the sentiment of the songs. I hope it reaches a broad audience. Tibet must have its freedom returned."

So who would she most like to buy the album? Yungchen Lhamo pauses for a second then smiles. "All the Chinese," she says, fingering her prayer beads.

'Coming Home' is released by Real World on Monday 25 May.