Based
on the numbers and crowd ebullience indices, the 37th edition
of Montreal’s Festival
International Nuits d’Afrique
was the best ever. For this result, a full orchestra of praise
goes to chief programmer Sépopo Galley who 
understood
that the 13-day festival playlist would have to speak directly
to a generation of listeners raised on Rap and hip-hop. Her
task was to find music that seamlessly straddled the traditional
and the new -- the desert Berber chant and the hip-hop rant,
the former born in the hot winds and shifting sands of the
nomadic life, the latter a product of the malaises of modernity
and state-of-the-art digital technology. And while the traditionalists
might have felt somewhat shortchanged in respect to the emphasis
on high tech effects and over reliance on pre-recorded tracks
and looping, many of the ancient acoustic instruments (mbira,
balafon, nbgoni, marimba, kora) and their distinctive
sounds could be heard in the various groups and combos.
In
fashioning a success music festival, mention must be made
of the animators that 
introduce
and contextualize the music. They are the vital bridges between
the programming and the final product: the live music. I've
attended dozens of festivals in my life that and nothing quite
approaches the acumen and enthusiasm generated by the festival's
dynamic Emcees (animateurs): to mention a few names:
Anis Bourbia, Annabelle Picker and veteran Willie B. Rose.
They set the tonic for the team and the tunes and didn't miss
a beat.
Perhaps
better than any festival of its kind, the 13-day event is
a showcase for the influence of Africa's native music on the
world 's music, and as such, it is as much a cultural as a
music happening.
This
year's mega-event featured Benin's Angelique Kidjo. Following
in the footsteps of trail blazer Tina Turner, she was living
proof that life, indeed and in deed, begins at 60. A living
legend and recipient of numerous awards and distinctions,
she brought her boundless energy and a tightly knit and talented
band to the MTELUS (formerly the Metropolis) that was packed
to the gills. A perpetual motion machine, Angelique gave it
her all and it was all returned in love and devotion. Her
powerful and singularly pristine voice is not the kind that
shatters glass but pours out like a precious liquid. It was
the driving force behind music that reflected the many influences
she has absorbed over a long career that began Benin, then
Paris and around the world. On stage, her foot work was something
to behold, filling in the musical pauses like a blues guitarist
between the lyrics: she was at once lithe and limber, evoking
the gravity-defying footwork of Fred Astaire and Michael Jackson.
The
cadence and energy generated by her band owed much to her
two superb percussionists: Magatte Sow on congas and Yayo
Serka on drums. Where on far too many occasions percussionists
end up competing with each other, Sow and Serka were in perfect
sync, in large part because they were listening to each other
in the context of how to best serve the music. If what we
ask of music is that it take us -- if only temporarily --
to a better place, Angelique Kidjo and band achieved their
goal and more. Based on the applause meter, she'll be back
for more in the near future.
Combining
retrograde hip-hop with a variety of modern unorthodox sounds
and effects, singer-songwriter Jinj put 
on
a show at Club Balattou -- the permanent home of the festival
-- that few will forget. She successfully married Armenian
folk music to foot-stomping rhythms that somehow reconciled
tradition and no-holds-barred innovation. And when the multi-talented
flutist took the lead, the music went into another dimension.
It was nothing less than a ticket-to-ride on the serpentine
lines of the punji -- the clarinet-like sound one
expects to hear from a snake charmer -- backed up by a beat
box, over which a vagrant voice gone rhapsodic was wending
its way from the village to the 3 am rave party. Got to bring
back this group back.
Pascal
Delgres's trio initiated a musical odyssey that began in the
bluesy swamplands of Louisiana before morphing into progressive
rock that recalled Emerson, Lake and Palmer and especially
Peter Gabriel. As a composer, Delgres is his own person, owing
nothing to the protocols of popular taste. His powerfully
evoked indigo moods and modulations wrere full of creative
surprises. His voice – think of a well gushing olive
oil -- was easily among the very best at this year's festival.
Rich and resonant, confident and strong and with an exceptional
range, Delgres hit all the highs and honoured the lows. Kudos
go to his highly inventive drummer Baptiste Brondy and sousaphonist
Rafgee who supplied the low notes.
In
the spirit of the string acoustic that best represents Africa,
The Night of the Kora concert, featuring Zal Sissokho and
the inimitable Seckou Keita, was a festival highlight. One
of the unacknowledged keys to the wonderfully delicate and
precious ambience created by the kora is the absence of percussion
-- and there is much to be learned from this. Senegalese-born
Montrealer Zal Sossokho opened the evening, displaying remarkable
thumb-finger coordination and counterpoint, on top of which
he sang in a voice that washed over the body like warm bath
water. He was followed by 
one
of the best kora players on the planet, Seckou Keita, also
of Senegalese origin. Not only is he technically astounding,
demonstrating remarkable separation of both hands and voice,
he is arguably the instruments greatest innovator. He combined
four chordings to create a reserve of permutations that provided
him with more melodic intervals. And while the kora is traditionally
synonymous with the calm and repose called upon to counter
the hard scrabble life out of which issues the music, Keita
turned the tables and strings and somehow produced a quasi
percussive funk sound; the audience lapped it up. The highlight
of the evening was reserved for the finale, when Sossokho
and Keita were joined by one of the great voices out of Malia,
Djely Tapa, whose soulful performance guaranteed that this
would be a concert none would forget.
This
year, the programmers wisely decided to dedicate a time slot
for the feminine voice, 
a
decision that, based on the applause scale, begs to become
a regular feature of the festival. In all there were five
concerts, beginning at 7 pm at the Loto Quebec stage,
Noé
Lira and her 5-women band regaled both the eye and ear. If
world beat and hip-hop ere beginning to wear thinner than
rice paper, Lira's highly original music and theatrical presence
were as refreshing as they were exhilarating. Her voice is
clean and assured and her tongue-and-cheek stage gestures
were spell-binding.
No
less captivating was Thaynara Peri from Brazil. 
She
successfully combined pop and hip-hop with bossa nova and
samba. Backed up by a voice that can scale mountains and walk
on water, she poured herself into original material that was
punctuated with creative twists and turns that kept the huge
crowd on its dancing toes.
On
the big stage, Gambian-born Sona Jobarteh, the high priestess
of the kora, provided a set of music that recognized no borders.
Her unique 
brand
of fusion recalled the novelty of John McLaughlin’s
Shakti period in the 1970s. It has been said that no matter
what music you surround it or mix into it you cannot take
Africa out of the kora. Jobarteh reminded us that nothing
is written in stone. Backed up by a hard driving band and
preternaturally creative rhythm section that had the exultant
crowd moving in unison, she used the kora to dialogue with
her vocals as well as a vehicle for extended jazz-like solos.
If music is constantly evolving, Jobarteh is surely one of
the prime movers.
For
many of the festival goers, the experience and attendant satisfactions
are no less cultural then musical. One of the unintended consequences
in bringing together people of different backgrounds is the
unspoken but deeply felt ennoblement one experience in being
part of a tapestry whose theme is dedicated to the one-world
concept. Facilitating this reaching out to the other is the
now famous Timbuktu festival market place relocated from its
foot-friendly grassy confines to an area just behind one of
the main stages. With significantly more space, shops and
kiosks, the place was bustling with energy and a dazzling
array of African staples: native garments, musical instruments,
hand-made jewelry, artifacts, and herbs and spices.
For
those who come to experience the visuals in all their diversity,
les Nuits d'Afrique, a veritable festival of colours and colour
combinations, is without equal. In the midst of a profusion
of tints and hues and colour tones, we quickly realize –
lament -- how impoverished are our own tastes and how relentless
are the social and sartorial protocols that bid us to conform.
Among
the eye-arresting highlights were the exotic hairstyles: from
frond-length tresses to cornbraids interlaced with beads and
glitter; cylinder propped top-buns to tower shaped updos all
of which brought this hirsute-challenged Saskatchewaner to
his knees in envy and awe.
Last
but not least, occupying the former home of the Timbuktu market
were an assortment of sizzling African food kiosks; and located
nearby were instructional ateliers and workshops. And for
those who find extended standing difficult, there was more
general seating than ever before.
To
the festival organizers and dedicated team -- Jëf-jëf
yu rafet ak.
Suffice
to say, the 2024 edition can't come soon enough.
All
photos ©Jerry Prindle
