Afropop Heads North of the Border

This year marked the 25th anniversary of the Festival International de Jazz de Montreal (International Jazz Festival of Montreal) and the festival organizers have gone all out to celebrate it. A mind-boggling 500 shows in 10 days time--the majority of which are free to the public--began to unfold on Wednesday, June 30, 2004 with the same near-flawless execution as in the past. Just as remarkable is the fact that the entire festival takes place within a radius of only a few blocks at the Place des Arts in downtown Montreal, a nexus of the arts that manages to pack in 10 indoor venues, 12 outdoor venues, dozens of concession stands and festival shops, and a modern art gallery to boot.

In recent years, the Jazz Festival has expanded its musical boundaries far beyond jazz to folk, rock, blues, African music, Latin music, and even hip-hop. This year was no exception to this trend of eclecticism, with African acts particularly well-represented right from the opening gala.

South African Freedom Feted

The organizers are known for throwing huge mega-shows on the first official night of the festival, and the coincidence of the 10th anniversary of the end of Apartheid in South Africa with the 25th anniversary of the festival provided the perfect setup for a blowout opener. So, on the night of June 30, 120 000 festival faithful from around the world gathered in the main square of the Place des Arts in downtown Montreal to join with South African superstars Lorraine Klassen, Ladysmith Black Mambazo, and Johnny Clegg in rejoicing over music and freedom. International audience favorites Black Mambazo brought their best stuff in song and dance and had the crowd helping with both. The majority of the onlookers were so far from the stage that they had to erect multiple giant television screens to broadcast the proceedings--out of sync with the distantly amplified sound--to those not fortunate enough to have arrived at least an hour early. The enormous but orderly crowd nearly burst at the seams when Johnny Clegg hit the stage, a man whom Mistress of Ceremonies Lorraine Klassen with great respect called the "white Zulu" for his musical and political identification with the black people of South Africa before and after the end of Apartheid. Old or young, black or white or otherwise--all joined together for one night in one place to celebrate and take hope from the example of South African music as a tool for social and political change.

Mesmerizing Malagasy

While the bulk of the Jazz festival's crowd hovered near the main stage to catch higher profile performances, a group of several hundred were rewarded in spades for their curiosity as they gathered a block away. These fortunate attendees were summoned by the dazzling guitar work of a little known Malagasy virtuoso named D'Gary. An inspiring Cinderella story, D'Gary (Ernest Randrianasolo) first sought work as a guitarist in his native Madagascar in order to relieve his widowed mother and eight siblings of their financial woes. Incredibly, he was hired by the most prestigious band in the nation, Feon'ala, before owning a guitar of his own. He has since risen to international acclaim, despite being scarcely known in North America, and has been recognized in many world-music spheres as one of the world's most gifted guitarists. Inaccurately billed as a trio (his female vocalist withdrew unexpectedly), D'Gary and his vocalist/percussionist lit up the stage in back to back performances with a spectacular rhythmic interplay underlying D'Gary's astounding finger-picking. D'Gary wields a wholly unique, opened tuned style loosely based on his native Bara ethnic music and other regional ethnic traditions including tsapiky--a popoular southern Malagasy dance music. His calm, expressionless demeanor juxtaposed against the lightening-quick dexterity of his finger-work projected the aura of a magic show rather than a guitar performance. It seemed as though two guitarists were busy at work. At certain points, spectators literally shook their heads in wonder. In all its complexity, however, the music was soothing and sublime, enticing those on hand to close their eyes and sway along with the music's steady flow.

D'Gary also delved into some territory more familiar to the audience, including some powerful pentatonic blues and rock riffs, staple jazz progressions, and sweet folk melodies. Songs such as "Akata Meso" and "Resaka Marandray" warmed the audience with their moving vocal lines and brilliantly simplistic structure. Equipped with only a guitar and a masterful percussionist, D'Gary delivered an extraordinary diversity of sounds in his two sets, maintaining cohesion without succumbing to stylistic conformity or repetition. The richness of the experience is sure to resonate within all who were lucky enough to have witnessed this delectable feast for the soul.

Afrobeat Takes Center Stage

Not too long ago, Afrobeat founder Fela Kuti had become all but forgotten by North Americans who used to groove to his soulful and funky James Brown-influenced take on Nigerian juju music. With a political edge and international appeal reminiscent of artists like Bob Marley and Thomas Mapfumo, Fela's Afrobeat legacy has reemerged in the last few years as a result of the success of his son Femi; the increasing popularity of "homegrown" Afrobeat from bands like Antibalas; and reverential tributes from African-American artists who have rediscovered his affinity for radical politics. This, in turn, has spawned a host of new Afrobeat acts, and, being always on top of everything, the Jazz Festival jumped smoothly on the bandwagon with back-to-back-to-back Afrobeat performances on the second full day of the festival. First up were Cameroonian guitarist/singer/songwriter Franck Biyong and his new band Masak, made up of musicians from his home country as well as Burkina Faso, Paris, and Detroit. The band lacked some cohesion as a few of its elements had only recently joined the group--specifically the striking but slightly off-key backing vocals duo and the horn section from Voodoo Jazz, another act at the festival. But fortunately Biyong's energy, experience, and stage presence carried the show well through some noticeable miscues. The front rows were up and dancing and the crowd let out a cheer when Biyong launched into their excellent cover of Fela's "Sorrow, Tears, and Blood." Dressed in matching suits with the other members of the rhythm section, the grooves were as tight as the fashion, and the spirit of Fela himself seemed to speak through the music.

A half hour later, the rising stars of New York-based Kokolo took their turn on the main outdoor stage of the festival in the enviable double 9 PM and 11 PM time slot. These are commonly the largest outdoor shows each day due to the primetime hour, the high profile of most of the booked acts in this slot, and the capacity of the main square to accommodate a mammoth audience. Wearing his Brooklyn-logo zipper sweatshirt and speaking alternately in English, Spanish, and even some broken French, frontman Ray Lugo provided the personality in front of an extremely tight ensemble that hit the gas from the word "go" and didn't let up for an hour. Politically charged (the first song talked about abusive policemen), Latin-tinged, entrancing rhythms--all combined to energize the somewhat older demographic of the Jazz Festival through two dominant performances.

Earlier that day, we had managed to snag an unexpected interview with Biyong, an articulate and charismatic speaker who had much to say on the still-vibrant legacy of his childhood hero Fela, the political possibilities for African music, and the durability of African traditions in the face of globalization. His commanding presence on stage confirmed that for Afrobeat artists, as Burning Spear put it to us in an interview at the festival, "the music is in the message and the message is in the music." Biyong possessed a contagious hope for the future of both African music and Africa itself, and we can only hope that his optimism is well-founded and his message well-heeded during these turbulent times.

New Directions in Sufi Music

Dhafer Youssef's music has always been easier to define in spirit than in sound. The sound is a dynamic, careening crossover between North African Arab music and jazz arrangements and improvisations with an experimental attitude of loops and sound engineering in an ambient setting. The spirit, however, continues inexorably in the tradition of ecstatic meditation passed down along the generational lines of Sufi practitioners in Youssef's native Tunisia and throughout the Muslim world. Youssef's instantly classic performance at the Montreal Jazz Festival was like as a 21st century Sufi gathering, with the Gèsu Theater serving as temple and the stage as pulpit from which Youssef as spiritual guide took the audience on a mystic journey through the soundscapes of known and unknown universes. With the emphasis on unique sound creation and manipulation, the performance was very much in the vein of modern experimental music.

Yet in more than a few ways did this performance transcend your typical emotionally dry exhibition of often self-indulgent experimentalism. Although almost totally improvisational, Youssef was able to maintain a melodic and even lyrical center to each piece, stated explicitly in the "head" at the start and finish of a piece but very much alive throughout all parts of it. Youssef's oud and Norwegian electro-jazz figure Eivind Aarset's guitar would lay down the sonic foundation for each piece. Aarset would go on to play with subtle effects changes or a short solo while Youssef vamped on an oud line and created multiple overlays of loops in either their original sound form or in reverse. Paolo Fresu's stunningly beautiful extended solos would move the piece along while watching Youssef for direction.

At the very moment when the tone of the piece had been set and the audience sat entranced was when Youssef's otherworldly operatic voice pierced straight into the soul of the listener, germinating from a low, husky rumble to grow into the revelation of perfect upper register precision. Youssef demonstrated full awareness of and control over his overpowering voice, often standing up and moving a few feet from the microphone and letting the walls of his "temple" give free reign to his colossal acoustic projections. Other times Youssef would turn 90 degrees away from the mic and lift a hand in between it and his mouth, as if whispering a secret to the air carrying his voice on its currents. The most shocking aspect of the whole thing was that, despite the virtuosic genius of this mostly spontaneous music, one left with the feeling that Youssef still held back the greater part of his music. But perhaps this is the music of whispers and silence, the music that lies between the notes and flows parallel to the explicit sounds created by the voices and instruments. Either way, it was a rare and stunning performance by a true master of music.

The Montreal Jazz Festival continues through July 11, 2004. For more info on the festival go to:
http://www.montrealjazzfest.com

Contributed by: Eric Herman, Jesse Brenner