Oumou Sangare, from live finale

This is Part 4 of a series on the exhibit From Timbuktu to Washington, presented on the National Mall from June 25 through July 6, 2003. Part 1 provides an overview of the exhibit and presents music of the Niger River and the northern Malian desert.
Part 2 describes two acts from the Wassoulou region in southern Mali, Fula music from Mopti, and the Masked Dancers of Dogon.
Part 3 focuses on the great balafon groups at the festival and also gets into Mande griot music and puppeteering.

Mali Lolo: Stars of Mali

The task of choosing just three names from Mali's ever-swelling ranks of worthy and original popular musicians to accent the Smithsonian program with large, evening concerts can't have been easy. With so many regions, musical sub genres, and old and new success stories in Mali, the list of potential candidates was surely daunting. But in the end, the choices the curators made are hard to fault.

Oumou Sangare is without a doubt the queen of Wassoulou queens, and Wassoulou music has proven the fastest rising pop music genre to arise in Mali in recent decades. Ali Farka Toure holds a uniquely beloved place in the hearts of Americans due to the powerful connection his music makes between West African music and our bedrock pop music genre the blues, with all its many descendents. And when it comes to an artist who pulls together the many strains of Mali's complex ethnic mix, and also points the way to the future of this country's music, well, Salif Keita is simply the man. Habib Koite would have certainly been the runner up in this category, but in Africa, seniority counts, and Keita is undoubtedly Koite's grand frêre in this category.

The decision to add Le Kanaga de Mopti as the support group for Ali Farka Toure was unexpected, but turned out to be an inspired wild card in the mix. Recent tours and recordings by the Super Rail Band have helped teach the world about Mali's rich history of state-sponsored regional bands during the post-Independence period, especially under President Modibo Keita (1959-68). Le Kanaga is a largely unheralded, but very distinguished, result of this history.

Oumou Sangare

On Saturday, June 28, Neba Solo warmed up the evening crowd at the Timbuktu Stage with the same energized, Senufo, balafon boogie they treated daytime audiences to every day of the festival. People grew a little restless as Sangaré's band worked through a rather elaborate set up. The truth is, the Wassoulou diva has become quite a perfectionist about her sound and presentation, and everything had to be right. What's more, Sangaré's band has grown, reincorporating Zoumana Tereta on the traditional violin (sokou) in addition to the kamelengoni, guitar, flute, percussion, bass, drums, and backing vocals that have defined her sound for years.

In addition to Tereta, there were two new faces in the band since the last time Sangaré toured here. Hamane Touré on bass, and Mouneissa Tandina on drums both hail from Timbuktu. Along with sterling guitarist Baba Salah of Gao, this puts three very strong musicians from the Malian north in Sangaré's lineup, something unprecedented for any Wassoulou band, or indeed any band from Bamako.

Mouneissa Tandina is particularly noteworthy, a rare woman trap drummer recruited into Sangaré's lineup earlier this year. Given her long-standing identification with the empowerment of African women, Sangaré was particularly proud to have a woman drummer, and during the show, Tandina distinguished herself with a spare, powerful performance. (Incidentally, Tandina is a veteran who has been active on the Malian scene for decades, including a stretch playing in the Super Rail Band.) "One day, I might have an all-women band," Sangaré mused during an interview the next day, but don't look for that any time soon. She's worked hard to create one of the most cohesive and well-rehearsed outfits in Mali, and she'll want to get the fullest possible mileage out of it.

Sangaré's performance was spirited and flawless, her band and voice in top form. The set included a few songs from Sangaré's 2001 release, Laban (at last due for U.S. release in fall, 2003)--"Laban," the driving "Yalla," and a brilliant adaptation of the northern, Songhai takamba called "Wa Yeïna"--but otherwise stuck to classics like "Ko Sira," and the beautiful ballad "Djorolen."

The set ended in full crank mode, bringing the packed house--including, of course, many Malians--to their feet, and in some cases to the stage. One of the wonderful things about Sangaré's group is its range of dynamic possibilities. Tender moments, like "Djorolen," can flow directly into driving, over-the-top dance grooves with djembe man Cheikh Oumar Diabaté bringing audience members to the stage to strut their stuff, and guitarist Baba Salah flying across the fingerboard of his electric guitar. By the way, Salah, long a standout in this band, has now launched a solo career with a debut recording that Sangaré proudly reported is one of the top-selling in Bamako this season.

Salif Keita

The following Wednesday, the evening slot at the Timbuktu Stage went to Salif Keita. As the Malian artist with the highest international profile, Keita promised to attract the biggest crowd of all, especially for a free concert, and the festival was well equipped to accommodate that with speakers aimed at the vast stretch of grass behind the large tent. Unfortunately, this turned out to be the rainiest day of the festival, and during the evening concert, it absolutely poured, discouraging many from making the trip to the Mall.

Too bad, because the show that went on before some 1500 people crammed into that tent--including the Malian Minister of Culture, Afropop's own Georges Collinet, and other celebrities and dignitaries--was the most powerful of the entire festival. In the past few years, Keita has remade his band yet again. Where the lineup has generally included a number of European musicians emphasizing the progressive rock element in his sound, the current 11-piece cast is all-Malian. What's more, the new band uses calabash, tama (talking drum) and djembe in place of trap drums, and balances electric guitar and keyboard with ngoni and kamelengoni, the latter played by Harouna Samaké, one of the most creative and talented young players of any instrument on Mali's contemporary scene.

Keita began alone on the stage, challenging the beating rain on the tent roof with the spare sound of his acoustic guitar and incomparable voice. He cast a deep spell with the ballad "Iniagibe," the same brilliant, solo interpretation featured on his recent album Moffou. When the group joined him onstage, he eased in with "Moussoulou," as pretty a Keita song as there ever was.

From there, the gloves came off. One of the most remarkable things about the new band is the way it transforms Keita's older material. The song "Bolon," best known from its rock-tinged rendition featuring Vernon Reid on the album Papa, now builds around a classic Wassoulou, kamelengoni riff played by Samaké. The song rocks harder than ever, crescendoing with Keita's most full-throated, heart-breaking gut wail, but the sound is also deeply rooted in tradition. When Samaké came forward to take a solo, snapping through polyrhythmic melodies, and even hamming it up by playing his instrument over his head and behind his back, he won gales of approval from the crowd.

Along the same lines, Keita's feel-good hit "Tekere" brought the house down, but perhaps the most powerful reinvention of all came with "Mandjou," the 1970s song of thanks to the late--and controversial--Guinean president Sekou Touré. This slow, moody barnburner highlights Keita's incomparable voice like nothing else can. I was standing near Professor Cherif Keita, who has written a book about Keita and who was the MC for this show, and he could scarcely believe his ears. He told me that Keita had updated even the lyrics to the song and that it was without a doubt, "the most powerful version ever."

The set ended with a long, incendiary version of "Madan," the hottest track on Moffou. Based in a celebratory harvest rhythm, but intensified by its minor key, the song is another kamelengoni feature, providing Samaké with another opportunity to shine. But though he may be the best soloist in the band, every element in the ensemble is exceptional, and by now--after heavy touring over the past year--this may be the tightest, most cohesive African band on the international circuit. Youssou N'Dour's exceptional Super Etoile band has nothing on this band as far as polish and impact goes, but Keita's band is so original in its diversity of sounds that to these ears, it has the edge at the moment.

As the show ended, the rain pounded on, and though protected from the downpour, most inside the tent were drenched in sweat. Slack-jawed gazes of disbelief were the order of the day. For many, the highpoint of the year's Smithsonian Folklife Festival had been hit, and despite the glitches, holdups, illnesses, meteorological mishaps and miscommunications, there was nothing to call it but a sensational success.

Ali Farka Touré

The so-called "king of African blues"--if such a thing exists--played on Saturday, July 5, the penultimate night of the festival. Unlike Oumou Sangaré and Salif Keita, Touré has not been circling the globe all year, gracing international audiences with his art. Some fans may recall his "retirement" tour here in 1998. Well, for the most part, he has stuck to that, tending to his fruit groves and rice paddies alongside the Niger River in his beloved hometown, Niafounke. Touré played the Festival in the Desert near Timbuktu in January, and the word is he has recorded a new album for World Circuit, but despite many invitations, he has resisted the temptation to tour, so this was a rare opportunity.

Given that, Touré and his four accompanists put on a very different kind of show from the well-rehearsed, carefully-paced set pieces offered by Sangaré and Keita. Touré set the mood with an extended sound check on the one-string fiddle, njarka. The show unfolded in a casual, informal, at times even improvised way. Still, there was no mistaking the fact that he was thrilled and honored to be there. Georges Collinet had the unenviable job of translating for Touré. The wily singer's use of elliptical proverbs--honey is not sweet in a single mouth--and meandering allegories posed quite a challenge for the Afropop Worldwide host, not to mention the sign language interpreter who had to work with Georges' translation.

But Touré's great pleasure came across without translation. He picked up his trademark black electric guitar with the built-in speaker and launched into his traditional opener, the hypnotic "Goye Kur" from The Source. From that moment on, he had the crowd in his hand and he never let go. Song after song, Touré mixed the familiar and the unfamiliar, no doubt presenting much material from his yet-unreleased new recording, and pausing leisurely between songs to offer his expansive wit and philosophy.

The group featured Touré's longstanding vocal accompanist Afel Bocoum, and conga playing cousin, Oumar Touré, as well as djembe player, and singer and acoustic guitarist Mamadou Kelly, frequently identified as Touré's current protégé. Together, they produced a rich, jangly sound, more spirituality and mystery than pump. Touré's guitar was sometimes noticeably out of tune, but his voice proved as soul searing as ever, commanding the center of the floating, dense sound, song after song.

The stage manager, watching the clock, was ready to wrap things up long before Touré was. Having broken his retirement and come all this way, Touré had no intention of cutting things short, and his mesmerizing set stretched to nearly two hours, ringing out over the darkened Mall on a sultry summer night.

Le Kanaga de Mopti

Before Touré took the stage, one of the great surprises of the festival, the 10-piece band Kanaga de Mopti delivered an incendiary, hour-long set. Under the leadership of guitarist, composer and arranger Mamadou "Joe" Traoré, this band goes back to the days of the state-sponsored, regional bands of Mali in the 1960s and 70s. Emphasizing the music and culture of the Dogon, Peul, and Bozo peoples, the group's work has a very distinctive character, even as it hews to the guitar, brass, percussion and vocal format of its era.

On a research trip for Afropop Worldwide in 1992, I met Joe Traoré one late night in Mopti. Although I arrived unannounced and had to leave the following morning, he welcomed me into his home and gave me a wonderful interview. Traoré's warm remembrance of that encounter earned me the privilege of jamming a song with the band on guitar during their morning sound check on the Mall, and also of serving as MC during the evening set.

Having never heard Le Kanaga before, except on cassette, I had little idea what to expect, and so was pleasantly surprised to find that the group is a juggernaut! Their three-guitar section is gnarly and powerful, and the vocalists and percussionists proved exceptional. Add a spirited brass section and you get a rare glimpse of all-but-lost Malian musical history. In the evening show, they wore bogolon outfits, incorporated Dogon masks, the dances of farmers, hunters, and fishermen, offering spectacle to match their tight, formidable sound.

Particularly sweet was a hunter's song sung by Maki Koné. Koné is a paraplegic, and the son of a famous hunter, but he has a voice to die for and really moved the crowd with this particular performance. As MC, I had the job of translating Traoré's explanations of the songs. Happily for me, his French was clear and to the point, and I learned some interesting stuff along the way as I introduced songs about fishermen's lore, the pillage of ancestral treasures in Dogon country, and the mystical power of hunters.

Having come all this way, and very pleased to be playing rented instruments--far better than their dilapidated gear back home--the group was keen to play on, and not pleased when the stage manager pulled the plug on their set. But they made every minute count, and brought something both substantial and unexpected to the festival audience.

Jamming

Late night jamming in the ballroom of the Key Bridge Mariot hotel has long been a tradition of the Smithsonian Folkways Festival. With musicians from Mali, Scotland and Appalachia on hand the possibilities were tantalizing, and at least some of that promise was realized. Beer and Scotch whiskey were available, a natural element for the Scots present, although not so much for the Malians, most of whom never drink alcohol. Still there was common ground to be found.

The readiest collaborations involved Malian drummers joining in with others. The drum is the universal instrument, of course, and drummers tend to be rather outgoing types, not requiring an entreaty or invitation. The wildest such jam I saw involved djembe drums and Scottish bagpipes, a marriage made in heaven. This inspiration for Afro-Celt Sound System instantly became clear as the dense, slapping rhythms of Africa met their match in wailing, overtone-rich layers of melody.

Early in the festival, I saw a banjo player carefully inspecting the large ngoni played by Demba Sidibe of Krin de Birgo. The American was fascinated by the resemblances in construction and playing technique and was keen to point it out to others. Given the number of great players of these banjo-like African instruments on hand, there might have been some great exchanges along these lines, and perhaps, behind closed doors, there were. Hard to say why this didn't happen more in the ballroom jams. For one thing the ngoni family of instruments are quiet and would have needed amplification.

That problem could easily be solved, but also, some of these African players are used to courtly settings where they are invited to play and do so under fairly clear cultural guidelines. The Appalachian musicians are natural jammers, of course, but they have their own customs and habits, not to mention repertoire. Linking these two worlds would have required some organizing by someone with an understanding of both sides.

As the festival went on, small amplifiers did show up to help the quieter instruments. Balafons got into the mix. There was a lot of dancing, from clogging and circle dances, to more free flowing, improvisational varieties.

The guitarists from the Tuareg group Tartit--Mohammed Issa and Abdallah (also a leader of the group Tinariwen)--were willing jammers, often emerging from the elevator with their guitars strapped on and ready to go. I too brought my guitar and found some great opportunities to mix it up with Malians, whether it was playing Tuareg folk songs with Issa and Abdallah, and also Afel Bocoum on the night of the Ali Farka Touré concert, or playing Mande repertoire with members of the Ensemble Instrumental and a jeli (Mande griot) now native to the DC area, ngoni player Cheick Hamala Diabaté. Best of all, though, was the night after the Salif Keita concert when Harouna Samaké--in my opinion the world's greatest kamelengoni player--stopped by the ballroom for a jam.

Harouna is a friend from back in the days when I lived in Bamako (1995-96) and he accompanied the Afropop Worldwide team on a musical tour of Mali in 2000. So we actually had some repertoire. With Cheikh Hamala, a local acoustic guitarist, a find Appalachian fiddler and others joining in, we had one sweet jam, just one of many priceless memories from the richest exposition of Malian music ever to take place in the United States.














































































































Contributed by: Banning Eyre