New York Times, A Hero of Angola Warms Up a Hot Night >>
By JON PARELES
Bonga has lived outside his native Angola since 1972, when his songs about oppression and freedom led to a warrant for his arrest by the Portuguesecolonial authorities. Since its independence in 1975, Angola has been scarred by civil war; after years in Paris, Bonga now lives in Lisbon. But he still sings about Angolan identity and a longing for peace - and a contingent of flag-waving Angolans was overjoyed to see him perform at Central Park SummerStage on Wednesday night in his first New York concertsince 1989.
The core of his music is the Angolan semba, which is as light on its feet as its relative, the Brazilian samba. Above a quiet, steady thump from the bass drum, the other instruments are airborne: bass riffs played high on the fret board, bright guitar lines, syncopated high-hat cymbals and pecking phrases on accordion or keyboard. Bonga has also soaked up Congolese soukous for dance tunes and Cape Verdean morna for ballads. He often played an Angolan scraper as he sang and, with accordion tootling along, the songs could also sound like Brazilian forró or Colombian vallenato.
Bonga sang (in Portuguese and an Angolan creole) about hope for a new era and about preserving tradition. With phrasing that was never hemmed in byt he beat, his voice held sorrow and weariness in gruff, pleading phrases, then rose to a clearer, sweeter tenor, as if it was finding its way to better times. A few tunes stretched out for supple dance grooves, but for much of the set, Bonga played shorter, three-minute songs, some dating back to the 1970's. He had a lot of history to cover.
Mariza, who shared the bill, was born in Mozambique but grew up in Lisbon, where she absorbed the Portuguese tradition of fado (fate): songs of romance, pride and tragedy. They are diva material, full of clenched emotion and elaborate arabesques, set against the pristine, mandolinlike sound of the 12-stringed Portuguese guitar. It is proudly theatrical music, and Mariza's appearance was striking: wearing a long, old-fashioned dress, possibly with a hoop skirt, and with her bleached-blond hair in marcelledwaves.
Mariza measured herself against Amalia Rodrigues, Portugal's most revered singer, by opening her set with "Estranha Forma de Vida," a Rodriguesstandard; her set also included three other songs associated with Rodrigues that appear on Mariza's album, "Fado em Mim" (Times Square). And like Rodrigues, Mariza sings fado as music that is both formal and passionately confessional. Each line can become a small drama, surging from a hushed reflection to a desperate sob.
Mariza spoke about fado as a cultural mixture, and she does not want it to be insular. Her set included songs from Cape Verde and Brazil, former Portuguese outposts. But its most vivid moment was its most traditional one. Mariza and her three-man band set up in the middle of the SummerStage audience and, without amplification, she sang an old fado, "Povo que Lavasno Rio," with her voice swelling to reach climaxes that were just short of tears. 07/13/02
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