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Kora Connections - Interview with Mansa Sissoko
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Penguin Eggs, Kora Connections - Interview with Mansa Sissoko >>
Kora virtuoso Mansa Sissoko moved from Mali to Quebec in 2007 and immediately made an immense impact on the Canadian world music scene. Mary Beth Carty charts the progress of this charming man.
In these post-modern times, one can create something revolutionary in roots music through open-minded genre-mixing. Such is the case with Africa to Appalachia, the brilliant new collaboration project from Mansa Sissoko and Jayme Stone.
Featuring some of the finest players of both American and Malian roots music, this warm music flows forth in bursts of acoustic brilliance.
Camaraderie is evident from the very first banjo and kora riff, played in perfect unison. The two met in 2003 while Mansa was playing some concerts in Toronto, and hit if off immediately.
"Oui, oui, oui, oui,oui, oui! Jayme c'est mon ami!"says Mansa enthusiastically. "When we met, he played a tune by Ali Farka Touré on his banjo. I said, ‘Incredible! Your instrument, it sounds like an instrument from Africa!’ "
Mansa fabricates his own koras from scratch, carefully selecting a calabash gourd, stretching a hide over it, placing 21 nylon fishing strings, and finally, installing a pickup. He takes special care to tune to the standard international pitch, which looks challenging, moving all those little braided leather rings up and down the neck.
Mansa's compositions, which he sings with a calming voice and expressive face, are heavily influenced by the songs of the Malinké people. Mansa tells me about the opening track, Bibi.
"A bibi is an eagle. When the eagle hunts, he is always precise. When he catches a fish in the water, it's for nourishing his children. We sing this song for the hunters because they give us meat to eat. When we are sick, they treat us. And they protect the enviornment. Voila! It's to encourage them and thank them for everything they do for society."
Many of the songs have themes of encouragement and thankfulness. Djula gives thanks to the traders who bring goods from afar, and is based on a song that Mansa's mother sang as she walked to market. Yelemane encourages the people who are working to develop a village.
"When we listen to music in Mali, it is not just the music that we listen to. We listen for the meaning. The song might be nice, but the signification is the most important part. It is educational, instructive. It's very philosophical."
Sila is a philosphical song with a message. "Sila is Malinké for the road. You discover life little by little. There are many things on the road. You must walk it to make your life. Sila is a song for calming people. I say in the song, if God takes your mother away, it's hard, it's painful, but it's normal. Those are the laws of nature. So the lesson is not to feel hopelessness in your life."
Jayme Stone's composition, Dakar, is influenced by Senegalese melodies. He also re-arranges some traditional Appalachian numbers, June Apple, which appears mid-album, is a rousing reel. I ask what Mansa thinks of this American music. "It's good, it's very good. Music is international. It is the accent of the person who is playing that makes the difference. I saw a resemblance to Québecois traditional music and Irish music. But there are differences as well."
Another remarkable thing about this album is the wonderful mix of musicians. Grant Gordy's guitar playing is raw, Katnen Dioubate's singing beautiful, Casey Driessen's fiddling serpentine, Bassekou Kouyat's ngoni playing perceptive, and Nick Fraser's percussion chameleonic. Producer David Travers-Smith even adds some trumpet blasts. Recorded in Toronto, the album sounds free, intricate, alive. The arrangements are creative and unpredictable.
"We practiced together for 10 days, then spent 10 days in the studio," Mansa tells me. "It's a good mix. I really like what they've done"
When Mansa Sissoko moved to Canada a year and a half ago, some rather important people were waiting for him; his wife and their four children.
"I met Geneviéve in Mali in 1996. We were just friends. Later she came back to work as an NGO, helping develop rural areas and we started going out." Mansa and his family now call the beautiful quartier Montcalm of Québec City home.
Born in the village of Ballya in the region of Kaye, Mansa has also lived in Mali's capital, Bamako. "Life in the villages is very different from life in Bamako. If you want to know the real Mali, you must go to a village. Bamako is occidentalized. It's farther from the traditional lifestyle. Everybody has cellphones nowadays!"
In the album notes, Mansa thanks Sidiki Diabaté, father or world-renowned kora player Toumani Diabté. "Sidiki is like my uncle. My mother went to see him and said, ‘I want my child to learn how to play the kora.’ I was 15 years old. I had never played but I heard it, I knew the melodies. I sang and danced with the troupe Chemin de Fer. We did shows all over the city."
In 1997 Mansa released the beautiful recording N'tomi. He spent five years performing and touring with Habib Koité, and recorded with Tiken Jah Fakoly.
Mansa was the central figure in Bay Weyman's recent documentary film, Road to Baleya, in which a group of Canadian and Malian musicians, including Tannis Slimmon, visit Mansa's home village. The film explores themes of music as a path to social and economic development.
Just before coming to Canada, Mansa was doing regular gigs in the major hotels of Bamako and helping to organize the National Kora Festival.
I spoke with Mansa after his performance at the Edmonton Folk Music Festival. The highlight of his weekend was a jam session with Cuban group Bomba. "It can work with the kora," he tells me. "In Africa we listen to salsa a lot. They played a piece, a rhumba. There is a rhythm in Mali that resembles the rhumba that we call gombé. So I sang a song in my language. The people were so happy! The Cubans thanked me and congratulated me over and over."
Mansa speaks Malinké, Bambara and French, but has very little English. "The expression of the face speaks. Music is a form of communication. But there are many people who speak French here. Sometimes it's not complicated and sometimes it is. But the day we are born, can we walk?"
Mansa pauses to make sure I've understood correctly. He waits for my answer. "No," I say. "Voila!" he says.
"Edmonton c'est bon!" he enthuses. "There is so much forest in Canada, so much space! You couldn't populate all that space!"
And what of the Canadian winters? "Nature does what it wants. It can't please everybody. If nature wants a lot of rain, it gives us rain. If it wants snow, it gives us snow. If it wants heat, it gives us lots of sun. It's not up to nature to adapt to us - we must adapt to nature. We must be like the chameleon."
Words of wisdom from Canada's newest griot. We thank him for coming and encourage him to continue making music!
By Mary Beth Carty 10/25/08
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