RFI Musique - - New album - Ba Cissoko goes back to basics

Ba Cissoko goes back to basics

Acoustic 'griot'

Paris

20/03/2009 -

The Guinean kora star Ba Cissoko is back with Séno, a third album that proves to be less electric but every bit as creative as his last. On it, the 21-string virtuoso, who has been playing the kora since he was fourteen, puts his own innovative spin on West African musical heritage.

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After the wild, Hendrix-style showmanship of Electric Griot Land, Ba Cissoko and his musicians have toned things down a little on their third offering, going back to village basics. Séno includes a hint of wah-wah pedals and the odd bit of sound distortion here and there, but this time round acoustic vibes take priority over electric wizardry.

Séno is an album one could easily imagine listening to sitting out in the backyard at M’Bady Kouyaté's house - with or without electricity! Ba's uncle, the 'griot' M'Bady Kouyaté, who lives in the Taouyah neighbourhood of Conakry, is the man who initiated Ba and his brothers to the kora. And for Ba, lead singer, lead kora-player and overall frontman of Ba Cissoko, this return to the group's acoustic roots has been planned "since way back when."

"This time round," Ba insists, "I wanted to make an album that corresponds to how we play live on stage. I added in an acoustic guitar which sounds really great with the kora. There's a balafon on another track and I invited one of my cousins who's a rapper to guest on another song. 'Séno' is a lot more eclectic and I think we're a lot more eclectic these days, too." Interestingly enough, the group's third album, composed in Conakry and out on the road, was made without an artistic director. "The thing about artistic directors," says Ba, "is that sometimes they can give you good ideas, but they can also push you somewhere you don't want to go. They can end up deforming your style."

Regional rhythms

There seems to be little chance of that on Séno. Ba and his group could easily have played the all-electric card which helped forge their Hendrix-style reputation on their second album. But instead Ba has put the emphasis on string virtuosity. "The important thing is innovating and creating, but consistently rooting innovation and creation in tradition." Ba pushes his famous groove to new heights on Séno, drawing on rhythms from various regions of his homeland. The vibrant yankadi rhythm that drives Conakry is fuelled by the energy of Soussou nights whilst the doumdoumba (the traditional Dance of Strength from Upper Guinea) is transformed into a pan-African disco on Africa Dance. Meanwhile, toupou séssé, a hypnotic rhythm from the Fouta Djalon region of northern Guinea, exerts a spellbinding force on Yadou.

On this third album, Ba not only celebrates the cultural heritage of his homeland, but those who have made him what he is today. First and foremost amongst his mentors is the grandmother who raised him in Koundara, in the Fouta Djalon region where he was born. The title track, Séno ("agriculture"), is dedicated to her. "My grandmother had this rice field and she used to drag me off there all the time to work on the land," Ba remembers, "My grandmother was also a 'griote'… and she was the one who taught me to sing. Every time there was a holy festival like Ramadan or Tabaski, she'd leave the house really early, around five in the morning, and she'd take me with her. It would still be pitch black outside when we left."

Ba pursued his musical apprenticeship under the guidance of M’Bady Kouyaté, his uncle "kora fola", and his aunt, who travelled their way across West Africa with their nephew, teaching him to play the kora along the way. "We walked for miles," Ba remembers, "going from village to village. People didn't know a 'griot' was coming, but the moment they saw us they'd rush around doing whatever they could to make us welcome. According to tradition, you have to provide food and a bed for a 'griot.' In the evening, everyone would sit round and listen as my uncle recounted his journey and explained who he had come to play 'praise songs' for. M’Bady would be on the kora and his wife would sing. I hadn't learnt to play the kora properly by that stage, so I used to sit there tapping on a calabash with a stick. That's how I picked up the basic kora rhythms. During our time on the road, my uncle also taught me how to make my own kora."

Old habits die hard

The family eventually wended their way to Casamance, in southern Senegal, where Ba spent two months in a school with other youngsters learning to master the kora's 21 strings. "I remember there was just music all the time," he says, "music at baptisms, at weddings and all sorts of other ceremonies… I was so happy when I learnt the first kora lesson, the 'Kélé Faba', a rhythm that imitates the hooves of the chief's horse. You start off really slowly and then gradually pick up speed as the horse gallops off like the wind. That piece isn't actually on 'Séno', but I'm still in the habit of playing it whenever I travel."

The family returned to Conakry after their trip to Casamance, but by then M’Bady Kouyaté had achieved his aim - Ba was a committed kora convert and the instrument was set to stay in the family for another generation. Ba reminisces about his own personal history and his relationship to the kora on Séno, but also delves further back into musical heritage. The kora has evolved over three centuries now and who better than Ba Cissoko to propel the 21-string harp-lute into the 21^st?