Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Some Music from the Heart of Bamako

Greetings once more from sunny Bamako.  This last week has been a complete musical immersion for me; I've been playing/learning at least 6 hours a day during the week.  It's lots of fun, but leaves me without a lot of energy to update the blog.  By way of an apology, and as promised, here's a field recording of my kora teacher, Toumani Kouyaté, playing "Salimu," a traditional Malian song about the dangers of alcohol.

Toumani Kouyate Salimu by waraden

(I think I've figured out how to get this audio player to work; if you're having trouble, please drop me a line @ waraden.diabate [at] gmail.com.)

One of my primary n'goni teachers, Kélémonson Diabaté, has been in Guinea for the last week for a recording session with one of Mali's more famous divas, Amy Koita.  Luckily, his half-brother, Simbo, is around to pick up the slack!  I'll post a picture of him next week.  The brothers' father is a famous musician in his own right; his name is Cemogo (pronounced "Chay-mo-go") Diabaté, and he's been a musical hub in Kita for decades, having reached the ripe old age of 96 or 97, depending on who's telling the story.  I had the chance to meet him in 2006 when I was in Kita when I learned, to my surprise, that he was the one who had made my n'goni!  He is also usually credited by Kita n'goni players as the man who first added extra strings to the traditional 4-stringed n'goni.  It is now common to see 7- or 8-stringed n'gonis among professional griots.  Interestingly, I've learned that both Simbo and my first n'goni teacher, Cheick Hamala Diabaté, tune their 8-stringed n'gonis identically: I strongly suspect that this is because both trace their n'goni "lineage" back to Cemogo.

One of the best parts about being in the midst of the professional griot/musician class is seeing the ways in which "traditional" music is adapting itself.  The n'goni, for example, is an instrument normally classified as "traditional" which has, in fact, undergone a radical physical alteration within living memory.  The kora has undergone a shift of its own through the playing of Toumani Diabaté.  His unique style, which burst onto both the Malian and world stage with his debut album, Kaira, instantly became the benchmark by which all other Malian kora players were judged.  Many of his interpretations of traditional tunes ("Alla L'A Ke," for example) have in turn become standards, and been incorporated into the tradition.  My kora teacher, Toumani Kouyaté, laughingly explained today that most young kora players "don't know the original Lamban; they can only play Toumani Diabaté's version!"  It's fast becoming evident to me that Malian musical "tradition" is not only flexible but even welcomes innovation.  No doubt this is less than revelatory for anyone who has studied other cultures or traditional musics, but I was still surprised.

In final news, I stopped by the Centre Culturel Français today to attend a talk at an "International Colloquium on the Sources of African Music" that's taking place there this week.  I heard a fascinating report on the music of Burkina Faso by Florent Mazzoleni.  As he pointed out, Burkinabé music is basically unknown outside of the country, so it was a treat to hear some.  I'll write something about the conference next week.

The highlight of this week, aside from the hours of music, was definitely watching a man remove not one, not two, but four sheep in gunny sacks from the trunk of a taxi.  And on that note, see you next week!

2 comments:

  1. Just a quick note to let you know I am enjoying your posts, and wonder if you would be receptive to my sharing your blog with others.

    Peter

    ReplyDelete