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Tartit embodies a way of life

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Chicago Tribune, Tartit embodies a way of life >>

World Music Review

  "In Chicago, time is money. In Tartit, time is not money."
  With those unapologetic words, vocalist and drummer Fadimata Walett Oumar not only explained the unhurried pace of Ensemble Tartit's music to the audience at the Old Town School of Folk Music on Friday; she gave a glimpse of the determination that has sustained her people through years of displacement and hardship.
  Tartit's nine members belong to the Tuareg, a nomadic people descended from the Berbers who controlled northwestern Africa until Arabs conquered the region in the 7th Century. They have made their living herding and navigating caravans across the Sahara and Sahel Deserts. Though the Tuareg are Muslim, their matrilineal society accords women liberties that are rare in Islamic societies, including the right to select and divorce their husbands.
  "Tuareg" is an Arabic word that means "abandoned by the gods." Not surprising, they have other names for themselves. One is "Kel Tagelmust," or "People of the Veil," and it's the men, not the women, who wear it. Keeping your face covered is a practical matter in the Sahara's harsch climate, but historically it's also a matter of honor for a Tuareg man to keep strangers, his social betters, and especially his mother-in-law from seeing his mouth. Two of the group's four males remained veiled throughout Friday night's concert.
  They also name themselves "Kel Tamashek," or "People who speak Tamashek." Two more names are Imouhar or Imashagen, both derived from the Tamashek verb "imohargh," which means to be free, pure, or independent. For centuries the Tuareg ranged freely across the Sahara, but when European countries imposed colonial boundaries in the 19th and early 20th Centuries, the Tuareg fought them and lost. Most of Tartit's members now live in Mali, but when the group was founded in 1995, they lived in refugee camps in Burkina Faso.
  Cut off from their old means of sustenance in the camps, their ancient cultural expressions became means for survival. The women of Tartit belonged to a women's organization that sold handicrafts. In Tuareg culture, singing and dancing are shared communal activities--performers aren't seperated from the audience. But when a relief worker suggested that the women form a group to perform at the 1995 Festival of Women's Voices in Belgium, they not only complied, they were a hit. Since then Tartit, whose name means "united," have recorded one album, "Ichichila," and performed throughout Europe, America, and Africa. The ensemble has appeared at prestigious events such as the WOMAD Festival in Seattle in 2000 and Le Festival Au Desert in Tin-Essako, Mali, in January.
  By now the ensemble members probably know the world music festival circuit as well as their ancestors knew the routes between the Sahara's oases, but they haven't glossed their music to suit international tastes. They sat cross-legged in a semicircle, as though around a campfire. Occasionally one or two members would move into the center to perform dances whose flowing arm movements were enhanced by the long white robes they wore. They sang deliberately paced call-and-response chants over layered, handmade rhythms. Fadimata Walett Oumar and another woman kept time on the tinde, a drum traditionally played by servant women that is made by stretching  a wetted goat skin over a wooden grain-grinding mortar. Other members clapped simple counter-rhythms.
  Arahmat Walit M. Attaher added keening melodies to a couple of tunes with her imzad, a one-stringed violin made from a calabash that she cradled in her lap like a guitar. Until recently this instrument has been restricted to the higher classes; its appearance in the same pieces as the tinde resonated significantly with the ensemble's name. Two men provided additional layers of rhythm by playing repetitive bass figures on a three stringed lute called the teharden, which resembles the Moroccan sintir and the Malian n'goni. Late in the evening, Mohamed Issa Ag Oumar quickened the pace and struck the evening's most familiar note when he pulled out a battered acoustic guitar. His finger-picked patterns laced with droning low notes sounded like country blues licks. They were a haunting reminder that the Atlantic ports that terminated the Tuaregs' trade routes were the start of a very different journey for many Africans.
-Bill Meyer

 04/14/03
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