Trio da Kali’s line up consists of Hawa Kasse Mady Diabaté on vocals, Lassana Diabaté on balafon and Mamadou Kouyaté on bass ngoni; the three musicians are virtuosos of their respective instruments.
Lassana pours out effortlessly fluid melodies and improvised variations on the xylophone-like balafon, exploring the sound palette of traditional griot music, while incorporating touches of the tonality and patterns of jazz, rock and western classical music.
The sound of the bass ngoni is unique, at once low end and mid range twang, underpinning the music with solid lines.
Then there’s Hawa’s voice, powerful, authentically emotional, while honed to perfection in the clarity of her tone and decoration.
Toumani Diabaté and members of his Symmetric Orchestra are joined by a very different type of orchestra, the RSNO.
This part of the set doesn’t quite live up to its potential—the orchestration is nice, but it feels like we’re watching two separate performances rather than a synthesised whole.
As composers like Bartók, Dvořák and Holst rigorously and convincingly absorbed the sounds of their indigenous and adopted cultures, it seems like a similar approach would have been best here; instead of adopting the polyphony and polyrhythm of Mandé griot tradition, the strings absorb Toumani’s shimmering kora playing in a flat wash of western chords and rhythmic restraint.
The bass, percussion and wind parts get it right though – taking inspiration from the loping grooves of the ngoni, while flutes and clarinets flutter in and out like elusive shadows cast by the koras.
Part two, and Toumani takes to the stage with the Symmetric Orchestra, which includes Lassana and Mamadou of the Trio da Kali.
Their involvement hints at what to expect next—expert musicianship, a savvy adoption of rock and jazz techniques, and, (joined by a rhythm section of drum kit and bass guitar) intense energy.
The music bubbles and ferments, a constantly evolving cauldron full of sound, while the once sedate crowd is encouraged to clap, sing and get out of their seats.
The set finishes with an unaccompanied kora duo by Toumani and his son sidiki.
It’s called Lampedusa, a small Mediterranean Island that is often the first destination for migrants trying to escape the turmoil of North and West Africa.
Between January and April 2015, around 1600 migrants died in the crossing from Libya to Lampedusa, making it the deadliest migrant route in the world.
While the world fixes its attention on Syria, and rightly so, this musical tribute reminds us of the equally horrific situation in many parts of Africa.
In Toumani’s native Mali, Islamist groups have taken control of much of the north, and have imposed an outright ban on playing or listening to music.
This all serves to remind us just how precious the music of Mali is, that the people and their culture are a unique global treasure to be supported, and that musicians like Toumani Diabaté are the defiantly unsilenced sound of hope and peace.
Words: CR Sanderson
