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Musical Sandscapes
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BBC Music Magazine, Musical Sandscapes >>
It's billed as the most rcmore music festival iti the world and I can believe it. Timbuktu, on the southern edge of the Sahara, is a by-word for the back of beyond. From there, it's a 70km journey across the desert to Essakane where die festival takes place. I know it's 70km because there's a sign and aii arrow pointing across the sand dunes. Beside said sign is a jeep stuck in the sand, wheels spinning. The perfect photo opportunity, except you don't stop in the soft sand for anything - not to help anyone nor to take a photo. Thankfully, our 4x4 driver is a master of Dakar Rally-style driving, flinging the steering wheel left and right to glide the car like a hovercraft across the sand. We make the journey in a remarkable two hours - the next day I meet a fellow Brit who has spent 14 hours on the same journey. Even Mali's Minister of Culture, Chcitk Oumar Sissoko, gets stuck in the sand and the opening ceremony starts three hours late.
The Fesrival in the Desert has garnered cult reputation. Partly because of its remoteness and the surreal idea of a music festival in the sand amongst the Touareg people and their camels, but also because the music is so good. Most of Mali's top artists, are on the bill, which is saying something, as it is an intensely musical country. There are several groups from neighbouring West African countries and a few intrepid "Western names: Robert Plant (of Led Zeppelin fame) was there last year, while this year French star Manu Chao and Damon Albarn (of Blur) show up. One lady from Dorset has come after hearing the CD of the 2003 festival.
So what exactly does Touareg music sound like? Lean, spare and, er, slightly sandy. A traditional group such as Tartu, from Timbuktu, features women vocal whose voices shimmer like a mirage over an undulating bed of gritty desert lutes and drums. Am I just romanticising, or do i feel the undulating gait of camels in the rhythms or a sky-full of stars in the thrilling ululatioiis?
Touareg rockers Tinariwen sport tightly- bound turbans, shades and electric guitars and evoke a harsher desert scene. Not so long ago they wielded Kalashnikovs as well as guitars. The Touareg are romantic, turban-swathed nomads who, for centuries, have traded salt and gold across the Sahara. They inhabit the north of Mali (and neighbouring Mauritania, Algeria and Niger), but they felt they were getting a poor deal, with minimal health care, education and political representation in the country. In 1990 a Touareg rebellion broke out with armed attacks and brutal reprisals. A final peace was reached in 1996 when there was a burning of arms in Timbuktu. Now the prime minister of Mali is a Touareg and many aspirations of the rebels have been met.
The Festival in the Desert is an important part of the peace and the cultural integration of the north with the rest of the country. It brings jobs to a region where unemployment is around 80 per cent. As Mali's Minister of Tourism tells me, the young guys who were roaming the desert in rebel groups make perfect guides. For the artists, it's a showcase where Touareg musicians take their place alongside stars from the rest of Mali and get seen by music lovers from round the world. Bands such as Tartit and Tinariwen are certainly greeted like heroes by the local crowd who either settle in groups by the stage or, sat on their camels, watch from a distance. Further off there are ritualistic sword dances, a tent-souk for handicrafts and Touareg gatherings to discuss issues of common concern. The festival has grown out of an annual gathering where different groups of Touareg would meet to exchange news and sort out problems.
Of course, as the reputation of the festival spreads, there's a danger it becomes a 'cool' (though, paradoxically, very hot) music travel experience rarther than a Touareg event. And then, ironically, it could lose its appeal to Western audiences as it just becomes Womad in the dunes. It's something the organisers are becoming aware of, so hopefully the balance can be kept in check. Lying on the dunes you can push your bare feet into the hour-glass sand beneath canopy of stars and, accompanied by the distant grunts of camels, listen to some of the greatest music on earth. The real world seems a million miles away. Which it sort of is, ED
01/01/05
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