Menu


Cheick Tidiane Seck

Uniting not dividing


Paris 

02/10/2008 - 

On his third solo album, Sabaly, Mali's Cheick Tidiane Seck invites a bunch of old friends into the studio with him to record his own compositions. Seck - aka the "Black Buddha" - appears to be as intent as ever on mixing a broad range of musical influences and fusing modern and traditional styles. The Fulani maestro tells RFI Musique how he recorded Sabaly and acquired his Dogon nickname Hogon Fô, "the old uniter."



RFI Musique: Sabaly is your third solo album. How would you say it fits into the body of work you've produced to date?
Cheick Tidiane Seck: On (my first solo album) Sarala, I was basically fitting in with the overall aesthetic imagined by Hank Jones. I arranged the music Hank had written and played my part. MandinGroove was more about me exploiting my rhythm skills and confirming my role as a pioneer. I was the first musician in Mali to use synthesisers, for instance. I think my new album, Sabaly, is my most mature work to date. It's a lot more focused on my own compositions and it's me you hear singing on all the tracks this time. 

Historically speaking, your ancestors were one of the Fulani families from northern Senegal who followed El Hadji Omar Tall, setting off to conquer the city of Segou, in Mali, in the 19th century. Have your origins influenced the music you play?
My grandparents were Almadas, spiritual advisors to El Hadj Omar Tall who was on a mission to convert the Bamana (Bambaras) to Islam. Segou, where I was born, is the capital city of the Bamana kingdom. But I'd say I owe everything to my mother's native region, Sikasso, which is in the Senufo kingdom. When I was growing up I also came under the influence of the local Catholic mission. I learnt to play the harmonium and mastered my first basic scales there. Then, in my teens, I went off to Bamako, and lived in the Mandinka zone. So I can honestly say I draw on an extremely broad range of influences in my work, tapping into Fulani, Bamana, Senufo, Christian and Mandinka culture.

Your new album - which experiments with everything from jazz and rap to gospel and traditional music styles - features an impressive list of guest stars, including Toumani Diabaté, Afel Bocoum, Djelimady Tounkara, Dee Dee Bridgewater and Habib Koité. How did you choose who to work with?
Basically, I called people I felt I had a lot in common with. Toumani Diabaté, for instance, says he's been influenced by my piano style. Toumani's extremely pure, contemporary style of playing draws on the special relationship between the kora and the piano. The thing that Afel Bocoum has brought to the album is a touch of traditional Songhai folklore from greater Mali, a sound I used to listen to on the radio a lot. Habib Koïté was actually one of my pupils at the National Institute for the Arts in Bamako. He was in this group I set up there, called Les Stars du Mali. I really admire the way he approaches composing and songwriting. I've played with Djelimady Tounkara in the past, too. He was one of the musicians I trained as part of the Rail Band. As for Dee Dee Bridgewater, she's been out to Mali twice now to record. She's absolutely convinced that she has Mandinka and Fulani origins. And I've been helping her try and piece together her family tree, taking her to museums and stuff. When Dee Dee touched down at Bamako airport, this old man rushed up and threw his arms around her, calling her Tereta Diallo (a Fulani name). He thought she was his niece!

Sabaly also revolves around your love of black American music…
I remember back in the '70s we were all fascinated by the sound of Motown. I play a lot in the U.S. and I don't think I've ever once had to be auditioned in 35 years. People hire you on the strength of your reputation. I've done sessions with Hammett Bluett, the absolute master of groove, and with Vernon Reid, Living Colour and Roy Hargrove. And I played on "Martin Luther King Day" with Don Parker. Since 2000, I've also been teaching a course at UCLA (the University of Los Angeles) on the relationship between West African music and jazz.

I know you're also a big rap fan and, interestingly enough, your new album was mixed by Reptile (famous for his work with the French rap group NTM)… Yes, that's right. Reptile gave the album a hip hop base and injected a bit of the freshness of rap. You know, I've never had any preconceived ideas about working with different people or experimenting with different musical styles. I have a very contemporary approach to music - I'm really into jungle and drum & bass right now!  What I like about rap is the way rappers use the rhythm of their voice to place melodies - what's known as "flow" in the rap world. The technique reminds me of old storytellers like Djéli Baba Cissoko who I listened to on Radio Mali when I was a kid. A lot of rappers have been to see me in concert in the U.S., guys like Jay-Z and Questlove, leader of The Roots. I'm violently opposed to the idea of Africans being pigeon-holed and limited to an acoustic sound. I feel close to artists like Graham Haynes and Joe Zawinul. I play on a Pitch Bender and I try and transpose traditional Mandinka notes on the synthesiser to invent completely new sounds.

How do you go about composing?
I don't have any set rules. I work on machines and, according to the colour of a sound, I'll play around with a sequence of harmonies or rhythms. Ideas for individual songs come to me by chance. For instance, I wrote Soweto here in France. I'd just seen the film Cry Freedom about the life of Steve Biko and I was actually in tears. As for Tounkaranké, that's a song that was directly inspired by a real life experience, the hassle I went through getting visas and working papers. I generally compose on my guitar and then build songs up from there. Rain has always been a real stimulant to my songwriting. The sound of rain has always created melodies in my head and got me into a certain mood.

When you're famous for being an artistic director, arranger and composer for so many other artists, isn't it difficult to build a solo image in your own right?
I'm someone who brings people together. I love mixture, fusion, universality. I believe that my own culture gets stronger when I share it. I nurture other people and that helps me grow in the process. It doesn't matter whether you're Fulani or Breton, music is basically like sex. When your bodies come together, there's no fear or apprehension, it's just total osmosis because you start off on an equal footing. A few months ago, I conducted a sacred Dogon percussion section. The Dogons called me "Hogon Fô" ("the old uniter") because I didn't betray their music in any way. I simply dug down to the heart of it and brought out what was at its core. But I think that runs in my family. My mother's a singer and she used to love getting people together. She'd get all the female singers in Mali together on a regular basis! 

Cheick Tidiane Seck Sabaly (Universal Jazz) 2008
In concert at Le New Morning, Paris, on 28 October 2008


Sylvie  Clerfeuille

Translation : Julie  Street