Djeour Cissokho

The kora virtuoso with a message

Paris 

20/01/2006 - 

Performing with his group Allalaké, Senegalese musician Djeour Cissokho is renowned for his extraordinarily creative approach to the kora. But even in his wildest experimentation, Djeour has never forgotten his roots. He is the son of Soundioulou Cissokho, a legendary griot who was greatly respected in Senegal. We hooked up with Djeour in Paris before his concert at Le New Morning on Friday, 20 January, timed to coincide with the release of his new album, Au fond de l’inconnu.

RFI Musique: Do you feel invested with a duty to keep your musical heritage and your people's collective memory alive?
Djeour Cissokho: Memory and transmission are fundamental to the griot's role. I belong to one of the great griot families who have kept the Mandingo tradition alive, handing it down over successive generations. I'm the son of Soundioulou Cissokho, who's a living legend in Senegal. In 1967, Sékou Touré, the president of Guinea, proclaimed my father king of the kora at the official inauguration of the People's Palace in Conakry. They organised a major contest for the opening, bringing together the very best kora-players from Guinea and the neighbouring countries – and my father won. When he died in 1994 the entire country turned out to pay homage to him. A period of national mourning was decreed in Senegal and a lot of musicians from neighbouring countries came to pay their respects, too. I was absolutely prostrate with grief that day, so I didn't play myself. But I went on to organise two special memorials for my father, in 1995 and 2000, and once again an impressive number of musicians turned out to honour him.

Do you remember the moment when you took an interest in music for the first time?
I have to say, growing up as the child of a griot, you're completely immersed in music from the word go. There are 22 children in our family – and almost all of them ended up playing music in some form or other. I was born in Thiès, the second biggest city in Senegal. It's about 70 kilometres east of the capital. I grew up between my home, in Casamance, and Dakar where my father was working at the Théâtre Daniel Sorano. In the evenings after school we'd all get together in the courtyard and sit round him, learning to play. Those evenings were like group classes for us really. Then, at home one day I picked up my father's kora and started playing. He was really impressed and began singing along. I gave my very first concert with my father. It was at an architect's house, at a private party and there were a number of African presidents there that night. After that, I went on to perform regularly at family gatherings where I accompanied my father and brothers.

Then, of course, you began to find your own wings and eventually became a musician in your own right…
Yes, after a while people started coming to me and asking me to play as a solo act. I started writing my own compositions, too. Then, in 1990, I set up my own group, Allalaké and I went on to make a name for myself with them throughout West Africa. I still play with the same group today in France, where I came to live in 1999. I still return to Senegal on a regular basis, though. I'm not ready to cut the umbilical cord just yet! Why did you decide to leave Senegal?
Basically, because I wanted to take my music somewhere else and open it up to other influences. I have a great deal of respect for the musical heritage passed on to me by my father – that's why I continue using a traditional kora with straps, because he was radically opposed to the idea of using a kora with keys. But that doesn't have to put the brakes on me inventing a more open style of music. I respect tradition, but I want to forge ahead and do something new, too. That's what life's all about, after all, moving forward and progressing. For me, part of leaving Senegal was tied up with the idea of extending my network. I felt like there weren't enough openings for me back home. Paris has taught me a lot over the years, you know, including things about Africa, because I have to say there's an absolutely extraordinary mix of musicians in this city.

I believe your first album came out the year you moved to Paris…
Yes, that's right. My first album, Unité, was actually made up of two cassettes I'd recorded previously. I went on to make my second album, Guisnea, in 2003. As for my new album, Au fond de l’inconnu, I recorded it in Paris with Senegalese musicians who've been loyal to me since the early days. It features a guest appearance by a great friend of mine: Moustapha Faye, the keyboard-player from Youssou N'Dour's band Super Etoile.

Your new album seems to try and get a lot of different messages across. There are songs about money, hospitality, willpower, betrayal and the dangers of emigration. You seem to be as intent on making people sit down and think as you are on getting them on their feet dancing…
Griots are counsellors and giving advice to people is part of their role. Through the lyrics of my songs, I'm reaching out and speaking to people in Africa as well as in France. The album's recorded in Mandingo, but there are also two songs I co-wrote with Josée Lapeyrere where I sing in French. Touring around West Africa I came to realise that French is the main language Africans use to communicate with one another. I want to reach out and touch people, so I need to use a language people can understand.

The reason I speak about emigration on the new album is because I feel the need to remind people here, and those back in Africa, that leaving one's homeland isn't easy and that they should realise that the pavements in France aren't lined with gold.

Is there one proverb you feel is particularly instructive in life?
"When water's poured, you can't pour it again!" That's an old Wolof proverb which basically means you can't go back in life. That doesn't mean you can't look back on the past and learn from your mistakes, of course. We should never forget the past.

Concert at Le New Morning (Paris): 20 January 2006

Djeour Cissokho Au fond de l’inconnu (Zoom-Zoum – Africa Productions / Rue stendhal) 2006

 

Patrick  Labesse

Translation : Julie  Street