AfroFuturism: Chimurenga Renaissance and Fatoumata Diawara

Review

AfroFuturism Concert at Carnegie Hall‘s Zankel Hall

There is renewed excitement returning to live events. Each opportunity offering us a chance to rekindle our lust for life, re-engage with family and friends and revisit old memories. It’s like traveling to a distant land or experiencing another culture. So, I was greatly looking forward to my visit to Carnegie Hall to enjoy Chimurenga Renaissance and Fatoumata Diawara. Presented as part of the on-going AfroFuturism Festival, I was certain the concert would reignite my wanderlust. I was wishful that it would reboot memories of my months in Africa working on an international Kuduro music and dance festival in Angola.

The program smartly curated the contrast between the two groups. It aptly demonstrated the diversity and sophistication of the contemporary African music scene, even in this small tasting.

Chimurenga Renaissance

Opening the evening was Chimurenga Renaissance, a Zimbabwean-centered hip hop project. It  brought together instrumentalist and rapper Tendai ‘Baba’ Maraire (son of Zimbabwean musician and musicologist Dumisani Maraire) and Congolese guitarists Hussein Kalonji. The other musicians of the group were Azor MBOMBO, Barrington Gayle, and Medearis Dixson. National Public Radio (NPR) described the band as

A trans-Atlantic mélange of melodies, polyrhythms, glitches, and distortion.

Within Renaissance’s music there are traditional African rhythms, mixed with jazz (particularly thanks to Mr. Dixson on saxophone), and hip hop beats accompanied with mostly, English lyrics.

In many ways, the raps Tendai spat out throughout the night seemed to be of a lesser sophistication of western urban music stylings. One of his tirades included an ill-conceived anti-mask/anti-vaxxer rant. It brought an audible disapproving grumble from the mostly masked Zankel Hall audience.

All Packed and Ready to Go But…

It was only during the group’s more traditionally guided moments that the crowd took to their feet and collectively swayed. One such moment was when the spotlight fell onto MBOMBO as he sang while playing the congas. There were also brief moments when Kalonji gave way to a riff, or Dixson took a solo, that nearly began to quench a collective thirst. Having heard other recordings by this group, including one produced by forward-thinking King Britt, they might have been dealt a disservice by the mix that evening. Much of the vocals were hard to hear and the band seemed disjointed.

All in all, the band fell short of transporting the audience on a journey that we were willing and hoping to take. Instead of Africa, Chimurenga Renaissance only got us as far as one of the many backroom music bars or cafes of Seattle — where much of the group is apparently based.

Fatoumata Diawara

Our journey began as Fatoumata Diawara took to the stage looking like a truly beautiful African Queen. And, for the next hour, she cradled us to herself, nourishing us with her jubilant and energized sound.

Her band, Yacouba Kone (guitar), Sam Dickey (bass), Wayne Matthews (drums) and Victor Campbell (keyboards), played seamlessly behind her. Each musician took an occasional moment in the spotlight. Diawara also stepped forward at moments with ‘ax’ in hand, demonstrating her own musical virtuosity on guitar. She evoked an image of a female warrior while her performance was a stirring reminiscence of guitarists Vernon Reid (Living Colour) and the late Jimi Hendrix.

Diawara’s melodies and lyrics, which she sings mostly in Bambara (the national language of Mali), never fail to sweep you up into her story. As an established actor in African and European cinema, she uses her gift of storytelling to its fullest. With deep emotionality, you intuitively understand her narrative of cultural identity.

The Subversive Sophistication of Africa

Diawara immediately reconnected me to my own personal discovery of the brilliant and often subversive sophistication of Africa. The concert included a tribute to one of the celebrated father’s of AfroBeats Fela Kuti with “Negue Negue.” Guitarist Kone channeled this music legend in much the same way as did Diawara and the rest of the band. The roster of songs included slower jams such as: “Sowa,” an older work from her song book, and how I first came to hear her. She also offered “Kanou Dan Yen,” a sensual lament of forbidden love and “Kokoro,” which speaks to pride of ancestral heritage. One needs to just watch the music videos of these songs to understand the depth of narrative of this singer and musician.

The night even included a rendition of “Sinnerman,” popularized and one might even argue ‘owned’ by the late, great Nina Simone. Diawara not only offered it as tribute to a music heroine but made it referential to her own migratory story — an African now living in Europe. And, in the process she laid equal claim to the song in her own way.

Diawara played many roles throughout the night, from a mother (or perhaps Mother Africa herself) concerned for her children, to a seductive temptress, and yet again, to a rock and roll badass. She played hard and drove her band to play even harder. But ultimately, she was, in that grand African tradition, everyone’s wise and often sassy “Auntie’ offering advice one would be wiser to heed.

A True Tribal Storyteller

By the evening’s end, Diawara’s queenly headdress came off, seemingly by accident. Her braids dangled freely as she worked her way to the show’s end, but certainly not before an encore. Yet another one of her characters appeared on stage. Hunched over and rhythmically shaking, I felt as if we were now being greeted by a fantastical tribal elder. We were being told of the journey we just took but as if we were about to begin it all over again. It reminded me of an African proverb, often represented by a bird with feet forward and head turned around on itself. The West African saying advises:

It is not wrong to go for that which you have forgotten.

Such is AfroFuturism… perhaps.

Diawara’s concert ended with an encore called “Anisou”. It seemed like a seamless, layered, improvised jam. She invited her audience up on the stage. Most of us had been out of our chairs and up on our feet throughout the concert. We surrendered to her beat. Unexpectedly, she invited some audience members into the circle to show off their moves. And, as they did, they were embraced by Fatoumata Diawara as new members of her family.

As I walked home in the cool New York night air, I felt warmed by the evening’s reconnection to my stay in Africa. I had indeed been transported to a distant land and culture. Once again, I was feeling welcomed as an adopted son.

Carnegie Hall Photos by Stephanie Berger