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Interview with Lura
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Illinois Entertainer, Interview with Lura >>
Cape Verde Calling
By Rosalind Cummings-Yeates
Save for the looming presence of Cesaria Evora and her powerful interpretations of classic Cape Verdean mornas, the music of the isolated archipelago off the coast of Senegal is mostly unknown by the West. Colonized by the Portuguese and largely ignored for most of its 500 years of occupation, the 10 small islands are prone to devastating drought as well as constant emigration. Since the country’s independence in 1975, there are more Cape Verdeans living abroad than in Cape Verde. One of the displaced is Lura, a charismatic young singer living in Lisbon whose CD, Di Korpu Ku Alma (Of Body and Soul) (Escondida), uncovers the sensual and complex sounds of Cape Verde for the rest of the world.
“Most Cape Verdeans, no matter where they go, keep a part of their culture with them,” says Lura. “Although I grew up in Portugal, I maintained the connection with the Cape Verdean Diaspora there.”
That included listening to diverse Cape Verdean musical styles, especially the uptempo dance rhythms of the funana. “My first influence was the group Bulimundo, they were the top funana dance band. I didn’t listen to Cesaria until much later.”
A popular group that combines acoustic and electric guitars, topped with jazzy trumpet and sax solos, Bulimundo pioneered a delicate blend of folkloric and contemporary music that mirrors Lura’s own style. With her father hailing from the island of Santiago, considered the most African Cape Verde island because of its proximity to Senegal, Lura’s childhood was steeped in the percussive, ritual-based sounds of batuco, finacon, and funana, rather than the Portuguese-influenced morna. Batuco is the percussion and funana are the rhythms that were formed by hand-clapping, call and response, and the beating of cloth called tchabeta, held between the legs. Finacon as well as funana will sometimes feature accordions or scrapers. The music was improvised during rituals and celebrations but was outlawed by the Catholic Church because it was considered too erotic. After independence, pop bands rushed to incorporate these traditional sounds into contemporary tunes for a totally new sound that resembled the jerky rhythms of Caribbean zouk music. Lura’s music, however, retains a distinctive sound.
Her throaty, yet breezy vocals pour over Di Korpu Ku Alma’s collection of funana, batuco, and morna tunes, spiced with Brazilian and pop undertones, like honey dripping in the hot Cape Verdean sun. Fresher and more upbeat than anything that’s come from the country recently, the CD showcases the rich textures of the culture to great effect. The tongue-in-cheek, hip-rolling rhythm of “Vazulina (Zoi)” shows Lura’s skill at combining lightheartedness with a sultry delivery, while the yearning morna, “Padoce De Ceu Azul,” displays her expert use of expression and nuance. Five of the 14 tracks are written by a young Cape Verdean songwriter, Orlanda Pantera, who died in 2001 but whose songs illustrate the timeless nature of Cape Verde life and music.
“Most Cape Verdean musicians have the influence from Africa, Europe, and U.S. They mix all those sounds for something unique,” says Lura. “Each musician has his own interpretation of Cape Verdean styles. It doesn’t matter if you do zouk, Cape Verdean hip-hop, or batuco, you have to contribute something individual.”
Lura’s journey definitely followed an individual path. Growing up, she never dreamed of being a singer. “I wanted to be a dancer or ballerina. It was a spiritual thing that lead me to sing,” she says. Although her graceful dancing moves are highlighted on the accompanying DVD of Di Korpu Ku Alma, professional dancing opportunities never surfaced so Lura soon found herself singing in Portugal and Angola. “I just had a feeling about my potential as a singer and it grew,” she says. “It was just something I had to do, I don’t even understand it.”
Regardless of whether she understood it or not, Lura’s refined vocal talents paved the way for a career as a background singer, which lead to invitations for duets from zouk singer Juka, tropicalia star Caetano Veloso, and, ultimately, Evora. Lura toured with the “barefoot diva,” developing her own style and eventually enough original music for her current CD. It was her mentor’s nonchalance toward her late-in-life fame and determination to live a simple life that inspired Lura to write “Tem Um Hora Pa Tude (There Is A Time For Everything),” a stylish, midtempo tune that honors love as the only thing that brings everything at once.
The album is filled with aural snapshots of Cape Verde sensibilities, from the swingy “So Um Cartinha,” which touches on the focus of letters for the largely émigré community, to the accordion-driven funana “Oh Naia,” which accuses a border guard of overcharging her because she didn’t bring him anything from her Lisbon trip.
“I want listeners to understand Cape Verde life,” she says. “I want to transmit the culture, it’s very beautiful. Even if people don’t understand the language, they will be able to get the nostalgia from the morna and happiness from the funana. It’s all inherent in the melody.” 10/03/05 >> go there
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