- Thu Jan 07, 2010 6:09 pm
#9620
After about 4 years in Mali studying jenbe and just havin fun hangin with Africans, I started to question what I was doing. Actually, playing percussion with kora and guitar virtuoso Lamine Soumano was the catalyst for that thought. (from Yaya Coulibaly - Bambara teacher in Bamako - the correct spelling of the jenbe in English is that. Djembe is a French deformation of the word and because there is no hard "j" sound in French they are required to put a d in front of it. They mis- interpreted the middle sound - it is virtually impossible to transition from the n to b without closing your lips and implying an m in the word. According to Yaya the m in jenbe is incorrect. I don't plan on changing anyone's use - just an interesting point)
Every time I went back to the US the only use I had for the music was teaching a workshop. What was a white guy in the US gonna do with a bunch of traditional jenbe knowledge? I could sing dozens of songs, knew dozens of phrases to accompany dances, multiple variations of rhythms from numerous ethnic groups and regions, knew what rhythms we were going into when the jelimusso began the song, could layer in multiple time signatures, had developed two clean, unique slap sounds, had carved a bit, knew all the ins and outs of a well-carved jenbe, how to build and maintain the instrument, etc. etc.
I met Lamine Soumano in Siguiri, Guinea while studying with a griot family there, the Kouyate clan - known as the famille Konkoba (you can see a pic of the Konkoba on www.malikan.com). The Konkoba is a jeli manifestation, not to be confused with the konkoba farming rhythm for the jenbe. That is a whole other explanation which I don't want to go into at the moment. Anyway I asked Lamine what he was doing - he said he was coming from Ivory Coast via Conakry and heading to Bamako, he was a cousin of the family and would pass the night there. I asked what he did and he said he was a mercenary - there was a war goin on in IC so I figured he meant he was some type of revolutionary. I didn't know he was a musician at the time. He then explained that he is a musician mercenary, anything, anywhere, anytime. He taught himself to play kora and guitar starting at age 15. His side of the family were orators and his grandfather was the head griot in Bamako for a number of years. He just wanted to play music. He never went to school a day in his life, didn't read or write, just played music. Had been to Europe a number of times as a kora solist for Adama Drama from Burkina, and was the former guitarist/composer for Ami Koita. A very respectable resume.
About 4 months later I hooked up with him in Bamako and we started to play together late at night in his bedroom in Bamako. I'd accompany on calabash and he would play guitar or kora. Every time I would ask him what he wanted me to play he would say, play whatever you want. I would, then he would stop and tell me to play it how he wanted it. This went on for a while until I started to understand the form of Maninka instrumental music.
My jenbe studies had already shown me that most all rhythms fit into 3 family groups. Each rhythm typically has a unique konkoni part, but the jenbe accompaniments are varied, yet consistent throughout the family of rhythms. Each rhythm has unique solo phrases that accompany certain dance steps, but there are family phrases also, general solo phrases that are played in any rhythm from that family. I had already started to recognize that the accompanying ensemble behind the solist would change how they played some rhythms at various times, either under the direction of the soloist or just on their own. Rarely did the soloist tell them to change back to what they were playing. Recognizing the family, not the specific rhythm, became important and liberating. I now had different accompaniments to choose from and no-one would say - no, that's wrong. The dununba has no specific part, yet is complimentary to the rhythm and has certain consistencies throughout the families also. Ultimately the dununba is there to accompany the soloist and compliment his phrasing. The picture became very clear.
Ok, back to Lamine. So I realized there were certain "rules" in playing the music that they follow, even if they can't verbalize those rules. How percussion lines up with the other instruments, recognizing the family of music the specific song comes from, etc. He wasn't interested in hearing a specific line, rather something that compliments the song, typically in the feel of that specific family. Lamine introduced me to some Ivoirian drummers who knew little about traditional Malian drumming, or Ivoirian drumming - they were true musicians - could hear the song and instantly knew how to compliment it. To them traditional jenbe was a different arena. They were percussionists playing in an instrumental ensemble, the needs of which are very different. This was when I changed from a goat to a cowskin on my jenbe - the sound compliments the instrumental ensemble much better, especially indoors. The goatskin jenbe was developed as an outdoor instrument to be played in drumming ensembles. The sound one is striving for in each situation is much different. I then realized that learning traditional jenbe, while fun and interesting, would have its limits for me. But learning to simply play the instrument as a tool of percussion was a really useful endeavor.
Over the past year I have been focusing on my band (www.vagabontribe.com) and kamel n'goni. Haven't touched my jenbe much except to play on a few occasions with two groups here in Mauritania.
I guess I want to encourage people to not feel the necessity to understand every rhythm in its "traditional ensemble form", rather learn to play the instrument itself. Learn about families of rhythms and recognizing how the jenbe compliments other drums or other instruments. None of us are ever going to take over the African corner on the jenbe playing market. Yes, learning the basics of the form is respectful. But if your desire is to play music, in lots of forms, traditional jenbe can be limiting in that it doesn't teach one how to play in the instrumental ensemble.
There is nothing bad about traditional jenbe. I spent almost ten years doing it. But meeting Lamine and other musicians not focused on traditional jenbe was very liberating. Opened me up to a whole new world of music and musicians. Set me down the road to learning the kamel n'goni and composing.
I am reminded of what Sega Sidibe told me when I began to study with him. He said just learn one rhyhtm really well, stick with it for a long period of time, and you willunderstand the jenbe. I told him I wanted to learn Sunu, he said no. I wanted to learn N'grii, he said no. He was the one who turned me onto recognizing the family of rhythms. I eventually moved on to other teachers, villages, and groups. learned dozens of rhythms and songs from all over Mali. Was really building my repertoire. Then I met Lamine (refer to above). After I recognized what Lamine was trying to tell me I finally understood what Sega meant. he knoew I was just some white American and my experience would be limited. Had I listened to him I may have come to the same realizations I made with Lamine much earlier. But I enjoyed all of my experiences so, no worries.
Just wanted to share some thoughts.
Every time I went back to the US the only use I had for the music was teaching a workshop. What was a white guy in the US gonna do with a bunch of traditional jenbe knowledge? I could sing dozens of songs, knew dozens of phrases to accompany dances, multiple variations of rhythms from numerous ethnic groups and regions, knew what rhythms we were going into when the jelimusso began the song, could layer in multiple time signatures, had developed two clean, unique slap sounds, had carved a bit, knew all the ins and outs of a well-carved jenbe, how to build and maintain the instrument, etc. etc.
I met Lamine Soumano in Siguiri, Guinea while studying with a griot family there, the Kouyate clan - known as the famille Konkoba (you can see a pic of the Konkoba on www.malikan.com). The Konkoba is a jeli manifestation, not to be confused with the konkoba farming rhythm for the jenbe. That is a whole other explanation which I don't want to go into at the moment. Anyway I asked Lamine what he was doing - he said he was coming from Ivory Coast via Conakry and heading to Bamako, he was a cousin of the family and would pass the night there. I asked what he did and he said he was a mercenary - there was a war goin on in IC so I figured he meant he was some type of revolutionary. I didn't know he was a musician at the time. He then explained that he is a musician mercenary, anything, anywhere, anytime. He taught himself to play kora and guitar starting at age 15. His side of the family were orators and his grandfather was the head griot in Bamako for a number of years. He just wanted to play music. He never went to school a day in his life, didn't read or write, just played music. Had been to Europe a number of times as a kora solist for Adama Drama from Burkina, and was the former guitarist/composer for Ami Koita. A very respectable resume.
About 4 months later I hooked up with him in Bamako and we started to play together late at night in his bedroom in Bamako. I'd accompany on calabash and he would play guitar or kora. Every time I would ask him what he wanted me to play he would say, play whatever you want. I would, then he would stop and tell me to play it how he wanted it. This went on for a while until I started to understand the form of Maninka instrumental music.
My jenbe studies had already shown me that most all rhythms fit into 3 family groups. Each rhythm typically has a unique konkoni part, but the jenbe accompaniments are varied, yet consistent throughout the family of rhythms. Each rhythm has unique solo phrases that accompany certain dance steps, but there are family phrases also, general solo phrases that are played in any rhythm from that family. I had already started to recognize that the accompanying ensemble behind the solist would change how they played some rhythms at various times, either under the direction of the soloist or just on their own. Rarely did the soloist tell them to change back to what they were playing. Recognizing the family, not the specific rhythm, became important and liberating. I now had different accompaniments to choose from and no-one would say - no, that's wrong. The dununba has no specific part, yet is complimentary to the rhythm and has certain consistencies throughout the families also. Ultimately the dununba is there to accompany the soloist and compliment his phrasing. The picture became very clear.
Ok, back to Lamine. So I realized there were certain "rules" in playing the music that they follow, even if they can't verbalize those rules. How percussion lines up with the other instruments, recognizing the family of music the specific song comes from, etc. He wasn't interested in hearing a specific line, rather something that compliments the song, typically in the feel of that specific family. Lamine introduced me to some Ivoirian drummers who knew little about traditional Malian drumming, or Ivoirian drumming - they were true musicians - could hear the song and instantly knew how to compliment it. To them traditional jenbe was a different arena. They were percussionists playing in an instrumental ensemble, the needs of which are very different. This was when I changed from a goat to a cowskin on my jenbe - the sound compliments the instrumental ensemble much better, especially indoors. The goatskin jenbe was developed as an outdoor instrument to be played in drumming ensembles. The sound one is striving for in each situation is much different. I then realized that learning traditional jenbe, while fun and interesting, would have its limits for me. But learning to simply play the instrument as a tool of percussion was a really useful endeavor.
Over the past year I have been focusing on my band (www.vagabontribe.com) and kamel n'goni. Haven't touched my jenbe much except to play on a few occasions with two groups here in Mauritania.
I guess I want to encourage people to not feel the necessity to understand every rhythm in its "traditional ensemble form", rather learn to play the instrument itself. Learn about families of rhythms and recognizing how the jenbe compliments other drums or other instruments. None of us are ever going to take over the African corner on the jenbe playing market. Yes, learning the basics of the form is respectful. But if your desire is to play music, in lots of forms, traditional jenbe can be limiting in that it doesn't teach one how to play in the instrumental ensemble.
There is nothing bad about traditional jenbe. I spent almost ten years doing it. But meeting Lamine and other musicians not focused on traditional jenbe was very liberating. Opened me up to a whole new world of music and musicians. Set me down the road to learning the kamel n'goni and composing.
I am reminded of what Sega Sidibe told me when I began to study with him. He said just learn one rhyhtm really well, stick with it for a long period of time, and you willunderstand the jenbe. I told him I wanted to learn Sunu, he said no. I wanted to learn N'grii, he said no. He was the one who turned me onto recognizing the family of rhythms. I eventually moved on to other teachers, villages, and groups. learned dozens of rhythms and songs from all over Mali. Was really building my repertoire. Then I met Lamine (refer to above). After I recognized what Lamine was trying to tell me I finally understood what Sega meant. he knoew I was just some white American and my experience would be limited. Had I listened to him I may have come to the same realizations I made with Lamine much earlier. But I enjoyed all of my experiences so, no worries.
Just wanted to share some thoughts.

