A few updates:
1) I've been helping some musicians lately with their music business-related efforts. Advice on setting up Facebook pages, websites, etc. Researching good venue matches in the US - festivals, university concert series, etc. I feel like I've learned a few things over the years with Yid Vicious and it's another way I can give something back here. Hopefully it will pan out into some gigs for them!
2) Papis, the sound engineer for Milim, invited me to have lunch with his brother, sister-in-law, and some other people. His brother had gotten married a few months before but Papis hadn't been over to visit since then. Aicha, his beautiful sister-in-law, was a typically Senegalese newlywed - eager to impress as hostess. And boy, did she ever. My, my, the spread! My jaw dropped when she brought out the enormous platter piled with a mountainous array of rice, chicken yassa (a lemony-oniony sauce), and various artfully carved vegetables as decorations - cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes. It looked like it belonged on a royal buffet somewhere. I was pretty impressed. Also, pretty intimidated, because I knew what my role as guest of honor was supposed to be: gluttonous PIG, that's what. I did my best, I really did. The food was absolutely delicious, and we ate it in the traditional Senegalese style, on the floor, with our hands (right only, of course). Each person gets his or her own little corner of the platter, so nobody is really digging their paws into anyone else's eating area. It's pretty practical, actually. Any time I showed signs of slowing down, I'd hear, "Lekkal! Lekkal! Il faut BIEN manger!!" (Eat! Eat! You must eat WELL!) I kept on trying - I did the best I could, and I had to have packed about a week's worth of food into me before they were finally satisfied. Then we had ataya (Senegalese tea - super yummy, very strong and sweet - great for after a meal!) and then Papis and I went to his place to watch the wrestling match with his friends. As I've mentioned before, people follow wrestling here as avidly as Americans do football, basketball, or baseball at home. Only probably even more so - here it's pretty much wrestling and soccer, that's it. So, we watched the last two or three matches and some wrestlers won and some lost and cried and had to have their handlers drag them over to the sidelines to console them, and then I cabbed over to Place de l'Independence to cat-sit for Paula again.
3) Today I decided to do something nice so I went to this secluded beach area at the southern tip of the city that my friend Bambi had showed me one day when we were driving around. He said it was where he always used to swim as a kid, and he liked it because it was tucked away and never very crowded. The beach itself was relatively clean, although you still have to walk over a pile of trash to actually get to it. But the water was a beautiful turquoise and the place felt like a cozy little hideout in the midst of bustling downtown Dakar. A group of kids were playing in the water, and some others in the sand on the beach. But it was relatively quiet and I sat on a rock with my feet dangling in the water (it wasn't too cold!) and sketched a little. It was a nice, relaxing way to spend some of the afternoon.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
I haven't felt much like writing, lately, but that's no excuse. SO, here I go:
Passover:
Chag sameach!
Easter:
Happy Easter (Sunday)!
Music Therapy:
Last week I had two rehearsals and two performances, and it definitely helped lift my spirits. Must keep playing!
Research / Vent:
Had an exciting library adventure a while back. First of all, it took me 4 trips to the library to finally get my official library card! And this was the expedited, special-handling-by-random-person way b/c of my toubab-ness and b/c of my request for something speedier than 2-3 weeks.
Once I finally had the card in hand, I was excited to finally get some of the things I needed. All of the PhD dissertations are scattered in no order whatsoever on several shelves - some up, some sideways, some tossed from across the room... Other students seemed to consider it normal to look through each and every dissertation until they randomly found the one they needed, so I proceeded to do the same. It was like an Easter egg hunt. I suppose the plus side is it's much more exciting and rewarding feeling when you actually find what you're looking for - it makes the library trip more like bobbing for apples or something.
Then I had the pleasure of dealing with the library staff when I needed to find a Master's thesis. Apparently dissertations are not worth lock and key, but Master's theses ARE. And that means you have to ask a library staff to get it for you, from their Special Secret Master's-Thesis-Lockdown Cabinet. And apparently that's just too much to ask, ESPECIALLY if, as I was told, the elevator was broken. I was told to fill out a form and wait for someone to get the thesis. I did, and I waited, about 45 min. I went back over to check on the progress of things... I noticed that my slip had not moved from where I had placed it 45 minutes ago. I asked the new person (who had replaced the earlier person), and he said he had no idea, it wasn't his job. I asked 4 other people, all who said the same thing - no idea, not my job, etc. I asked, does ANYbody do their job here?? That's when the 5th person said the thing about the elevator being broken. I said, well, I'd be happy to walk up the stairs myself, but of course they said I couldn't because of the High-Security Protocol for Masters' theses. Dangerous info, you know. THEN, they told me it was now too late anyway because the time for retrieving things from the back rooms had passed. This was the last straw. I insisted that I had turned in my slip w/ plenty of time to spare, and that I shouldn't be penalized for other people not doing their jobs. This didn't help much.
I decided to take things up with the director of the library. On my way to her office, what should I chance upon, completely exposed, under no locks whatsoever, and only ONE floor up from where the staffers were? The MASTER'S THESES! And, miracle of miracles, they were IN ORDER! I flipped through them, to pleasantly find that the one I needed was, of course, missing. Marvelous!
The director was appropriately appalled when I told her about the condition of the dissertations and how helpful her staff had been. She had her personal assistant apple-bob with me for the missing thesis, which I beat him to finding. HAH! The other dissertation I was looking for, which was not on the shelves, remains at large. The other two dissertations I DID find, I was not allowed to check out - only one thesis / diss at a time. So, the assistant kindly told me he'd hold the others for me: in his OFFICE. I thought, well this explains a lot. The director's solution: take photos of the disarray as proof, write a letter of complaint which she'd forward on to her superiors, and finger the lazy staff. For the ratting, I'm reticent to do so as I'll inevitably just have to deal with the same people later (although she insists if they cause me any more hassle she'll take care of them.. whatever that means...). I haven't done any of this yet, perhaps because I have little hope it will make a difference. But, I have to return the thesis by Monday, so maybe I'll try to deal with it by then. I'll keep you posted on any library miracles as they do or don't occur...
Teaching:
I taught my sax friend Modou a lesson the other day, on the roof of my apartment. It wasn't too hot out; it was nice and breezy and we had a nice view of the neighborhood. Modou practices more than anyone I've ever met, but he's had little in the way of formal instruction so he has acquired some bad habits that impair his sound. He has been frustrated with practicing because despite the fingers improving the tone doesn't. So, I was happy to help him with this and he was excited to hear some drastic improvements right away after he tried some of the exercises. I haven't taught a saxophone lesson in a LONG time, and Modou is such a passionate, eager student that it was great fun - very rewarding and uplifting for me.
Transcribing:
Most musicians here have not had much if any formal training, and even for those who have, the training rarely includes learning music notation. So, there are many people here who are musically brilliant but notationally illiterate. One of my friends, Zal, composes often, but does so orally - singing the parts to the players until they learn them by ear, then recording it and singing new things to add on top, and so forth. Which is plenty effective, but when he saw that I could write music, he asked me to write it down for him so he could make charts. Since he often works with foreign musicians, having a written chart would be helpful - especially if rehearsal time on the same continent is limited to only a few days or weeks. So, I worked with him yesterday on writing out his tunes. It wasn't easy, because (he'll be the first to admit) his singing isn't exactly in tune. It took a little trial and error, but in the end we got it all down! Another friend of mine, Bambi, is seeking similar help. I've never really tried composing, myself, so I've been happy to learn a little about the process and to help other creative people get the music they have in their heads onto paper. I always feel like people here are helping me all of the time - teaching and transcribing both make me feel like I have something I can contribute, too.
Passover:
Chag sameach!
Easter:
Happy Easter (Sunday)!
Music Therapy:
Last week I had two rehearsals and two performances, and it definitely helped lift my spirits. Must keep playing!
Research / Vent:
Had an exciting library adventure a while back. First of all, it took me 4 trips to the library to finally get my official library card! And this was the expedited, special-handling-by-random-person way b/c of my toubab-ness and b/c of my request for something speedier than 2-3 weeks.
Once I finally had the card in hand, I was excited to finally get some of the things I needed. All of the PhD dissertations are scattered in no order whatsoever on several shelves - some up, some sideways, some tossed from across the room... Other students seemed to consider it normal to look through each and every dissertation until they randomly found the one they needed, so I proceeded to do the same. It was like an Easter egg hunt. I suppose the plus side is it's much more exciting and rewarding feeling when you actually find what you're looking for - it makes the library trip more like bobbing for apples or something.
Then I had the pleasure of dealing with the library staff when I needed to find a Master's thesis. Apparently dissertations are not worth lock and key, but Master's theses ARE. And that means you have to ask a library staff to get it for you, from their Special Secret Master's-Thesis-Lockdown Cabinet. And apparently that's just too much to ask, ESPECIALLY if, as I was told, the elevator was broken. I was told to fill out a form and wait for someone to get the thesis. I did, and I waited, about 45 min. I went back over to check on the progress of things... I noticed that my slip had not moved from where I had placed it 45 minutes ago. I asked the new person (who had replaced the earlier person), and he said he had no idea, it wasn't his job. I asked 4 other people, all who said the same thing - no idea, not my job, etc. I asked, does ANYbody do their job here?? That's when the 5th person said the thing about the elevator being broken. I said, well, I'd be happy to walk up the stairs myself, but of course they said I couldn't because of the High-Security Protocol for Masters' theses. Dangerous info, you know. THEN, they told me it was now too late anyway because the time for retrieving things from the back rooms had passed. This was the last straw. I insisted that I had turned in my slip w/ plenty of time to spare, and that I shouldn't be penalized for other people not doing their jobs. This didn't help much.
I decided to take things up with the director of the library. On my way to her office, what should I chance upon, completely exposed, under no locks whatsoever, and only ONE floor up from where the staffers were? The MASTER'S THESES! And, miracle of miracles, they were IN ORDER! I flipped through them, to pleasantly find that the one I needed was, of course, missing. Marvelous!
The director was appropriately appalled when I told her about the condition of the dissertations and how helpful her staff had been. She had her personal assistant apple-bob with me for the missing thesis, which I beat him to finding. HAH! The other dissertation I was looking for, which was not on the shelves, remains at large. The other two dissertations I DID find, I was not allowed to check out - only one thesis / diss at a time. So, the assistant kindly told me he'd hold the others for me: in his OFFICE. I thought, well this explains a lot. The director's solution: take photos of the disarray as proof, write a letter of complaint which she'd forward on to her superiors, and finger the lazy staff. For the ratting, I'm reticent to do so as I'll inevitably just have to deal with the same people later (although she insists if they cause me any more hassle she'll take care of them.. whatever that means...). I haven't done any of this yet, perhaps because I have little hope it will make a difference. But, I have to return the thesis by Monday, so maybe I'll try to deal with it by then. I'll keep you posted on any library miracles as they do or don't occur...
Teaching:
I taught my sax friend Modou a lesson the other day, on the roof of my apartment. It wasn't too hot out; it was nice and breezy and we had a nice view of the neighborhood. Modou practices more than anyone I've ever met, but he's had little in the way of formal instruction so he has acquired some bad habits that impair his sound. He has been frustrated with practicing because despite the fingers improving the tone doesn't. So, I was happy to help him with this and he was excited to hear some drastic improvements right away after he tried some of the exercises. I haven't taught a saxophone lesson in a LONG time, and Modou is such a passionate, eager student that it was great fun - very rewarding and uplifting for me.
Transcribing:
Most musicians here have not had much if any formal training, and even for those who have, the training rarely includes learning music notation. So, there are many people here who are musically brilliant but notationally illiterate. One of my friends, Zal, composes often, but does so orally - singing the parts to the players until they learn them by ear, then recording it and singing new things to add on top, and so forth. Which is plenty effective, but when he saw that I could write music, he asked me to write it down for him so he could make charts. Since he often works with foreign musicians, having a written chart would be helpful - especially if rehearsal time on the same continent is limited to only a few days or weeks. So, I worked with him yesterday on writing out his tunes. It wasn't easy, because (he'll be the first to admit) his singing isn't exactly in tune. It took a little trial and error, but in the end we got it all down! Another friend of mine, Bambi, is seeking similar help. I've never really tried composing, myself, so I've been happy to learn a little about the process and to help other creative people get the music they have in their heads onto paper. I always feel like people here are helping me all of the time - teaching and transcribing both make me feel like I have something I can contribute, too.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Good luck, Minou...
Sorry it's been a while. I've lost Minou and haven't felt like writing since then. I accidentally left a window open one night and woke up the next day to find her missing - I guess she decided it was time to see the sights and have her own adventures. Perhaps she was lured by a bird. Who knows. I wish her well and lots of luck...
More soon.
More soon.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Happy 65th Birthday, Dad! And Happy 51st Birthday, Senegal!
Congratulations, Dad! - quite the milestone. I hope you're celebrating it well, and wish I could be there to enjoy it with you!
In other news...
Not much to update, but I'll give it a try:
1) I'm back at my friend's downtown, and got a bird's-eye view of all of the Independence Day festivities (the Place de l'Independence is just below her apartment). The noise started last night, with sound-checking lasting for so long I wondered if I had gotten the date wrong for the holiday. I heard some important-sounding people enunciating important-sounding words which nevertheless I often couldn't understand because of all the reverb. I heard things like (translated): "Monday, Monday, Monday. TUESday. TUESday. MONday. TUESday." Etc. I'm not sure what that has to do with Senegal's independence, but whatever. The speaker DID manage to make them sound important though. Elocution is quite valued here.
Then this morning I had the pleasure of being woken up by cannon fire. The windows were open - even better! I found poor Minou hiding in a closet, shaking and tail-fluffed. I had to carry her into the kitchen where the food was because she was too afraid to cross the threshold into the room where the window had let in the big, bad noise. She sniffed the food but didn't have an appetite. Poor thing! Robespierre, on the other hand, didn't let a little noise affect his appetite...
So, I watched the festivities for a while - basically just a bunch of official-looking vehicles and groups of soldiers and police and whatnot in various uniforms all around the square. And marching band music. No matter where you are in the world, marching band music pretty much sounds exactly the same. Always slightly out of tune, always a slightly withered expression of patriotic enthusiasm. And then I saw the official motorcade moving around, and one was an open truck with press facing the limousine behind, which had the top open so President Wade could wave to everyone. Then an open hummer-type vehicle with a few top army people dressed in their most formal miliatary garb, saluting the President. Then a bunch more vehicles with more mysterious officialdom inside. There was a moderate crowd behind the blockade, and they appluaded as the President went by. And that was pretty much it. No fireworks, no potato salad. But, last night I heard a kora player / singer sound-checking, so hopefully later this evening there will be a concert I can enjoy from the balcony. We'll see!
2) I went to the University last week, an event which, in typical Dakar fashion, ended up being a whole-day, exhausting affair. My main reason for going was that there was an exhibit there on the history of the journal Présence africaine. The journal is of great historical importance for Senegal - Alioune Diop, it's founder, was very involved in getting the first FESMAN off the ground. So, I was excited to go and see the exhibit, especially because one whole quarter of it was to be devoted to FESMAN '66! Unfortunately, I was quite disappointed with the FESMAN room. It was the smallest and most sparse of the rooms, and other than the looping video clip, I didn't see anything that was new for me. The video clip was cool, especially because it was in color - the only other one I'd seen was in black and white and narrated by Langston Hughes. My journalist friend Florent told me he thought this clip at the University exhibit was from the Russian film that was made, which I've never been able to find. That may be, although the narration was in English or French, I can't remember, but definitely not Russian. But the best part of the clip was seeing Josephine Baker singing, in color! By 1966 she was already getting up there in years, but she was as beautiful as ever. Anyway, I was disappointed that the loop was only about a minute long. I need to talk to the exhibit people to find out how to access the entirety of the video, but the curators are in Paris. In fact, I met the curator when I was in Paris last year, because the same exhibit had been presented there, at the Musée du Quai Branly. I hadn't made it in time for that exhibit, but I spoke with the curator and she was helpful in giving my research some direction. I also bought the exhibit catalog. Florent had told me that the Dakar version of the exhibit was supposed to be more filled-out than the Paris one. I guess I can't say since I wasn't actually there for the original.
Then the second part of my university experience was trying to go about getting a library card. As a doctoral student from an outside institution, I was supposed to fill out a special form, which of course they didn't have available. The lady just told me to see Mr. Samb, and directed me to his office. So I go to his office and find about 50 students milling about in a tiny, closet-sized space, waiting for Mr. Samb to show up. There was no guarantee that he would show up. I decided I didn't have the patience to wait and figured that even if he did return, there wasn't going to be enough time for him to get through all of those students before his office closed and that it would be better to come back in the morning.
Meanwhile I decided maybe I could just find what I was looking for myself, in the stacks, and then digitally photo the relevant pages. But of course what I was looking for, someone's Master's thesis, was in some reserve area which required a card to be shown to the librarian before he would retrieve it for me. And of course the librarian told me they were closing in 2 minutes, even though the website said that they would be open until 10pm and that you could check stuff out until 9:30. Maybe the reserve stuff has separate hours. Whatever. At any rate, the upshot is that I never got anywhere and left empty-handed.
Add to this the trek to the library and home, which was maybe an hour in the sun each way. This was pure stupidity on my part, because I wrongly estimated that the university was within reasonable walking distance. It sort of was, minus the increasing heat, but then I didn't take into account that the university campus is huge and it took me maybe another half an hour to find the library. Then walking back, etc., etc. I should have taken cabs. Oh well, live and learn.
By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I went to sleep about 30 minutes later (at 7pm) and didn't wake up again until 10pm.
So, that's all for now. This week, since I'm downtown, I plan to visit the archives of the Sorano Theatre, which was built for the first FESMAN. Obviously mainly for research purposes, but also because I really, REALLY want to find an original FESMAN poster and Florent said he thought this would be the best to look. I also plan to drop in on Serge since he lives nearby. And whatever else...
In other news...
Not much to update, but I'll give it a try:
1) I'm back at my friend's downtown, and got a bird's-eye view of all of the Independence Day festivities (the Place de l'Independence is just below her apartment). The noise started last night, with sound-checking lasting for so long I wondered if I had gotten the date wrong for the holiday. I heard some important-sounding people enunciating important-sounding words which nevertheless I often couldn't understand because of all the reverb. I heard things like (translated): "Monday, Monday, Monday. TUESday. TUESday. MONday. TUESday." Etc. I'm not sure what that has to do with Senegal's independence, but whatever. The speaker DID manage to make them sound important though. Elocution is quite valued here.
Then this morning I had the pleasure of being woken up by cannon fire. The windows were open - even better! I found poor Minou hiding in a closet, shaking and tail-fluffed. I had to carry her into the kitchen where the food was because she was too afraid to cross the threshold into the room where the window had let in the big, bad noise. She sniffed the food but didn't have an appetite. Poor thing! Robespierre, on the other hand, didn't let a little noise affect his appetite...
So, I watched the festivities for a while - basically just a bunch of official-looking vehicles and groups of soldiers and police and whatnot in various uniforms all around the square. And marching band music. No matter where you are in the world, marching band music pretty much sounds exactly the same. Always slightly out of tune, always a slightly withered expression of patriotic enthusiasm. And then I saw the official motorcade moving around, and one was an open truck with press facing the limousine behind, which had the top open so President Wade could wave to everyone. Then an open hummer-type vehicle with a few top army people dressed in their most formal miliatary garb, saluting the President. Then a bunch more vehicles with more mysterious officialdom inside. There was a moderate crowd behind the blockade, and they appluaded as the President went by. And that was pretty much it. No fireworks, no potato salad. But, last night I heard a kora player / singer sound-checking, so hopefully later this evening there will be a concert I can enjoy from the balcony. We'll see!
2) I went to the University last week, an event which, in typical Dakar fashion, ended up being a whole-day, exhausting affair. My main reason for going was that there was an exhibit there on the history of the journal Présence africaine. The journal is of great historical importance for Senegal - Alioune Diop, it's founder, was very involved in getting the first FESMAN off the ground. So, I was excited to go and see the exhibit, especially because one whole quarter of it was to be devoted to FESMAN '66! Unfortunately, I was quite disappointed with the FESMAN room. It was the smallest and most sparse of the rooms, and other than the looping video clip, I didn't see anything that was new for me. The video clip was cool, especially because it was in color - the only other one I'd seen was in black and white and narrated by Langston Hughes. My journalist friend Florent told me he thought this clip at the University exhibit was from the Russian film that was made, which I've never been able to find. That may be, although the narration was in English or French, I can't remember, but definitely not Russian. But the best part of the clip was seeing Josephine Baker singing, in color! By 1966 she was already getting up there in years, but she was as beautiful as ever. Anyway, I was disappointed that the loop was only about a minute long. I need to talk to the exhibit people to find out how to access the entirety of the video, but the curators are in Paris. In fact, I met the curator when I was in Paris last year, because the same exhibit had been presented there, at the Musée du Quai Branly. I hadn't made it in time for that exhibit, but I spoke with the curator and she was helpful in giving my research some direction. I also bought the exhibit catalog. Florent had told me that the Dakar version of the exhibit was supposed to be more filled-out than the Paris one. I guess I can't say since I wasn't actually there for the original.
Then the second part of my university experience was trying to go about getting a library card. As a doctoral student from an outside institution, I was supposed to fill out a special form, which of course they didn't have available. The lady just told me to see Mr. Samb, and directed me to his office. So I go to his office and find about 50 students milling about in a tiny, closet-sized space, waiting for Mr. Samb to show up. There was no guarantee that he would show up. I decided I didn't have the patience to wait and figured that even if he did return, there wasn't going to be enough time for him to get through all of those students before his office closed and that it would be better to come back in the morning.
Meanwhile I decided maybe I could just find what I was looking for myself, in the stacks, and then digitally photo the relevant pages. But of course what I was looking for, someone's Master's thesis, was in some reserve area which required a card to be shown to the librarian before he would retrieve it for me. And of course the librarian told me they were closing in 2 minutes, even though the website said that they would be open until 10pm and that you could check stuff out until 9:30. Maybe the reserve stuff has separate hours. Whatever. At any rate, the upshot is that I never got anywhere and left empty-handed.
Add to this the trek to the library and home, which was maybe an hour in the sun each way. This was pure stupidity on my part, because I wrongly estimated that the university was within reasonable walking distance. It sort of was, minus the increasing heat, but then I didn't take into account that the university campus is huge and it took me maybe another half an hour to find the library. Then walking back, etc., etc. I should have taken cabs. Oh well, live and learn.
By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I went to sleep about 30 minutes later (at 7pm) and didn't wake up again until 10pm.
So, that's all for now. This week, since I'm downtown, I plan to visit the archives of the Sorano Theatre, which was built for the first FESMAN. Obviously mainly for research purposes, but also because I really, REALLY want to find an original FESMAN poster and Florent said he thought this would be the best to look. I also plan to drop in on Serge since he lives nearby. And whatever else...
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Hotel Terrou-Bi Debut
Well, at long last I've started playing again. Until yesterday, I hadn't performed since coming back from the States, and I don't think I even realized how much that was starting to affect my mood. So, it was a good thing that Zal (my drummer / composer friend) invited me to play with him and his drumming mentor, Serge, and his group yesterday at the Hotel Terrou-Bi, a swanky place along the Corniche (the western, cliff-laden edge of the city).
I was shy and nervous at first because I've never played with any of these people before, and my last full-on-suck performance at l'Endroit, from right before I left for the States, was still lingering in my mind. But of course, Suck Fear*™ is something unknown to the Senegalese. As is shyness. So, before too long their welcoming and friendly attitude melted the shyness and the Suck Fear away and I was able to play and truly enjoy myself.
*(™Pucktone. BTW, "Suck Fear™" has now made it into at least one Senegalese's lexicon - Bambi now knows what it means and is able to use it in conversation.)
The group consists of: Sano on alto and soprano sax, Laye on keyboards, Bado on bass, Serge on auxillary percussion, and Ola on drums / vocals. Plus Omar the sound technician.
Laye has a huge headfull of dreads which he keeps tame under a cap with a large, bulbous dread-stuffing area. It looks kind of like he has the body of an octopus on top of his head. But in a cool way. He also has the world's highest cheekbones and in my opinion would look beautiful in drag but I haven't told him so.
Ola has the world's second-highest cheekbones and is from, I believe, Sierra Leone. He has a very buttery voice, despite being an avid smoker, and he loves singing in English.
Bado also has a headfull of dreads but he shows his off in a ponytail. He has little charms hanging from some of the dreads, like a mini-Africa with his initials in it, for instance. He carries his cigarettes (hand-rolled) in a little case in which he's taped the words "fumer tue" (smoking kills). He smokes as much as any good Senegalese, and I told him I thought it was funny, the label. He said he put it there to try to discourage himself from smoking too much, but I don't think its working.
Serge is the band elder (actually, I'm not sure who's older out of him or Ola, but the rest are younger) and has a brilliant, snappy wit. And, I think I mentioned before, he rivals Mark Weiger for the puns. He adds a sort of Afro-Cuban sound to the band, with claves and cowbells and various other cool textures including a drumhead attachment whose tension you adjust via a wheel, so you can wind the pitch up and down - it works well for mimicking the tama, a talking drum which you hold under your arm and squeeze in and out to adjust the tension of the drumheads and therefore change the pitch. You hear the tama a lot in Senegalese music, and many musicians have perfected mimicking its sound on various other instruments. Jeannot, of Milim, for example, has figured out how to make his guitar sound like one. Here's a picture of a tama:
Zal's not in the band, he just guest-subs occasionally.
Sano is quite tall and is missing one of his top front teeth. He has an incredibly deep and gravelly voice and, were he to sing, would probably resemble a black Tom Waits, or an even deeper, grittier version of Momo Wandel Soumah (a Guinean, also a saxophonist! Check him out): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YqMuix2ji50
Anyway, Sano's very laid back (even for here) and he just told me, "Don't think, just play." A simple suggestion, but for me a very good one. I've always felt that not being able to think and play at the same time was a major handicap of mine, a kind of dyslexia of sorts, or a sign of the lack of a functioning corpus callosum. But Sano reminded me that there's something to be said for shutting the brain up and letting the horn take over. So, suck it, brain! And, suck it, Suck Fear™!
I was shy and nervous at first because I've never played with any of these people before, and my last full-on-suck performance at l'Endroit, from right before I left for the States, was still lingering in my mind. But of course, Suck Fear*™ is something unknown to the Senegalese. As is shyness. So, before too long their welcoming and friendly attitude melted the shyness and the Suck Fear away and I was able to play and truly enjoy myself.
*(™Pucktone. BTW, "Suck Fear™" has now made it into at least one Senegalese's lexicon - Bambi now knows what it means and is able to use it in conversation.)
The group consists of: Sano on alto and soprano sax, Laye on keyboards, Bado on bass, Serge on auxillary percussion, and Ola on drums / vocals. Plus Omar the sound technician.
Laye has a huge headfull of dreads which he keeps tame under a cap with a large, bulbous dread-stuffing area. It looks kind of like he has the body of an octopus on top of his head. But in a cool way. He also has the world's highest cheekbones and in my opinion would look beautiful in drag but I haven't told him so.
Ola has the world's second-highest cheekbones and is from, I believe, Sierra Leone. He has a very buttery voice, despite being an avid smoker, and he loves singing in English.
Bado also has a headfull of dreads but he shows his off in a ponytail. He has little charms hanging from some of the dreads, like a mini-Africa with his initials in it, for instance. He carries his cigarettes (hand-rolled) in a little case in which he's taped the words "fumer tue" (smoking kills). He smokes as much as any good Senegalese, and I told him I thought it was funny, the label. He said he put it there to try to discourage himself from smoking too much, but I don't think its working.
Serge is the band elder (actually, I'm not sure who's older out of him or Ola, but the rest are younger) and has a brilliant, snappy wit. And, I think I mentioned before, he rivals Mark Weiger for the puns. He adds a sort of Afro-Cuban sound to the band, with claves and cowbells and various other cool textures including a drumhead attachment whose tension you adjust via a wheel, so you can wind the pitch up and down - it works well for mimicking the tama, a talking drum which you hold under your arm and squeeze in and out to adjust the tension of the drumheads and therefore change the pitch. You hear the tama a lot in Senegalese music, and many musicians have perfected mimicking its sound on various other instruments. Jeannot, of Milim, for example, has figured out how to make his guitar sound like one. Here's a picture of a tama:
Zal's not in the band, he just guest-subs occasionally.
Sano is quite tall and is missing one of his top front teeth. He has an incredibly deep and gravelly voice and, were he to sing, would probably resemble a black Tom Waits, or an even deeper, grittier version of Momo Wandel Soumah (a Guinean, also a saxophonist! Check him out): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YqMuix2ji50
Anyway, Sano's very laid back (even for here) and he just told me, "Don't think, just play." A simple suggestion, but for me a very good one. I've always felt that not being able to think and play at the same time was a major handicap of mine, a kind of dyslexia of sorts, or a sign of the lack of a functioning corpus callosum. But Sano reminded me that there's something to be said for shutting the brain up and letting the horn take over. So, suck it, brain! And, suck it, Suck Fear™!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)