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Concert Review

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AOL News, Concert Review >>

Essay: BelO's Return Is Sweet Music to Haiti
Apr 10, 2010 – 3:37 PM
Emily Troutman
Contributor

AQUIN, Haiti (April 10) -- Impatient children flocked to the streets in this small southern beach town; a crowd of thousands of onlookers yelled over security gates. But this past weekend, no one was waiting for food or water.

The crowd was screaming --- like schoolgirls -- for the appearance of BelO, Haiti's most recognizable and revered young music star, in his first return to Haiti since the quake struck more than three months ago. It was also a comeback for Haiti, which finally seemed ready for big lights, loud music and, through BelO, an optimistic vision for the future.

BelO, whose given name is Jean Belony Murat, is in every way an unlikely celebrity, especially for Haiti, where his modest demeanor, earnest social message and roots-rock reggae style break the mold in a market usually dominated by traditional music or American-style hip-hop stars.

"I didn't want to be the macho guy, the playboy, the reggae man," he told AOL News about his ascent to popularity in 2005. "I just wanted to be me. ... I know that's where my power is."

On April 3, he took the stage in his signature attire: jeans, sneakers and a cotton T-shirt with a picture of reggae legend Bob Marley. The comparison is lost on no one. BelO has captured Bob Marley's audience, Tracy Chapman's message and Jack Johnson's laid-back beach vibe.

Audience members of all ages danced and sang along with BelO's biggest hits, including the title track of his breakthrough album, "Lakou Trankil." Between songs, people stood quietly transfixed as he spoke about post-earthquake Haiti. "We need to rebuild a new Haiti, not the Haiti of Jan. 11. That country was broken," he said.

The third annual music festival in Aquin was staged by the Aquin Solidarity Foundation (Fondation Aquin Solidarite) and was the first large-scale event of its kind since the quake. The foundation nearly canceled the event, but was encouraged to move forward by its main sponsor, Voila, a cell phone company.

The festival hoped to bring attention and culture to this rural community, which offers only a few hundred jobs in the formal sector, although it has the potential to become a tourist destination. For Marguerite "Magguie" Rigaud, one of the organizers of the festival, BelO was the obvious choice to headline the event.

"First of all, everyone likes BelO. And we think he's doing a good job among the young people," she said. "He's against violence, against drugs. He's for a better life, a better society, a good education. Plus, we think he's good therapy."

The "we" to whom Rigaud refers is not just the powerful group of community leaders and organizers who led the event but also her generation of older Haitians, who are optimistic that BelO can be a transformative figure here. Though unfamiliar to most Americans, BelO is a leading voice for Haiti in France and among Francophone listeners. Since the earthquake, he has been based in Paris.

BelO has an enviable list of accomplishments for someone only 30 years old. He made his debut with a hit album in Haiti in 2005 and gained international attention after winning the Radio France International Decouvertes (Discovery) award in 2006. He has played to audiences of thousands around the world, including 12 African countries. This month, he will embark on an ambitious tour, with dates in Montreal, New York, Vietnam and France.

Despite the popularity of his music, BelO and the loyal group of friends around him consistently say, "It's not about the music -- it's a movement."

He is embraced universally across Haiti's deeply divided classes. BelO attributes much of his grassroots success to his decision to remain middle class. From a financial standpoint, that's been pretty easy. Fame he has; fortune is still a long way off.

BelO's brother, Charlot Murat, has been his manager since they were booking neighborhood birthday parties. "If America is the land of opportunity, then Haiti is the land of calamity," Murat said about the music industry.

Facing vast levels of national poverty, even popular artists have a difficult time selling records or charging audiences for shows. They also receive no royalties for songs played on the radio.

But BelO's class distinction is less about money than attitude. "If you join the upper class, there's no looking back," he noted.

Over the years, he has resisted many of the temptations thrown his way -- offers to play private concerts for drug dealers, upgrading his car and clothes, or indulging in some of the peripheral benefits of celebrity.

"It's easy as an artist to get a million girls," he said shyly. "And I'm not saying, you know, that I'm not that kind of guy, but I'm trying not to be. I'm trying to be better than that."

His marriage and his family often take center stage -- even onstage -- as he publicly discusses his quiet, family-centered lifestyle and the pressures he faces to act younger, less responsible and in a more commercially appealing way. BelO is one of UNICEF's Goodwill Ambassadors in Haiti, and he takes the role seriously.

The people who follow him and help manage his career are all acutely aware of the real and authentic power he has cultivated.

"Politicians ... they don't have the audience, they don't have the mic. When they say we need to rebuild this city, no one's listening," Murat said. "But when it comes to an artist like BelO, he gets onstage and he says, 'Everybody put your hands up!' And they put their hands up."

For his part, BelO's ambitions are characteristically simple. "The movement" is led by his message: love, peace and education. He is, first and foremost, an artist. On April 3, he debuted part of his new song about the earthquake, which evokes a Haitian saying: "Nou se wozo; menm si nou pliye, nou pa'p kase" ("We are like reeds; even if we bend, we don't break").

The audience members waved their arms like reeds and sang along, though most had never heard the tune before.

"Sometimes," BelO said, "there's something you need, and you don't even know it. Then someone says it. And you say, 'Yes. That's true.' "  04/10/10 >> go there
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