02:34 GMT 18th July 2011
Father and daughter, having completed their stand out kora duet, Jobarteh exudes the sheer joy of playing with her father on stage for the first time. It seems to symbolise 'the achievement of striking a balance between the act of preserving her cultural inheritance and encouraging its preservation, whilst simultaneously promoting its innovation. In Gambia such an act is called fasiya, the title of her album and the motivation behind Jobarteh's music.
'It's my expression of what I've been through and where I am now,' she told NewsAfrica before the set. 'I've found where I'm most happy and I think it's so liberating to actually produce music that literally touches every part of what makes me feel like I'm expressing myself. It's amazing!'
Born Maya Sona Jobarteh in 1983 in London, to an English mother and Gambian father, she continues an almost regal bloodline of kora players as the granddaughter of the master griot of his generation, Amadau Bansang Jobarteh, cousin of the celebrated Toumani Diabate and the sister of the renowned Tunde Jegede.
Spending most of her early years in Gambia, where traditional music was a central theme of daily life, it was her grandmother and biggest influence who pushed her to break into the male-dominated field of playing the sacred instrument. At around the age of three, she would often drag Jobarteh from her games to join in the musical gatherings, commonplace in the compound where they lived, so that she could play along with the elders.
'I didn't know what I was doing, hitting one string over and over again, looking really [fed up 1 because I really wanted to playa game and she [grandmother] would sit next to me and say, "Keep going, keep going!'" she recalls.
'She never openly said "I want you to play Kora" - for her it was a silent thing and she was proud of it. Her support of the kora was almost like a silent revolution."
Her grandmother's inspiration and quiet dedication remains with Jobarteh today and is symbolised by the track Saya, a slowpaced song played on the guitar represent ing not only a tribute to her grandmother, but also some of her most innovative work. Her perfonnance of the song is easily the evening's most moving and heartfelt piece.
Jobarteh took to the instrument quickly and realising her potential, Jobarteh's father and later her brother began to tutor her, quickly accepting her as something different but equally worthy of the right to play the kora. Given the ease with which she took up the instrument and the love her family bestowed upon their newest student, she has never really felt the need to promote a more vocal revolution for women's rights in African music, a theme which she feels has been thrust upon her by those who are less aware of the nuances of African tradition and way of life.
'I'm not leading a women's liberation on the Kora or anything like that,' she explains. 'For me coming to the korajust happened and 1 wasn't the one to choose. In any walk of life, in any aspect, I would say that women should take up their confidence in whatever they want to do and that's it. It doesn't matter if you're born into the griot tradition or not.'
Today, based primarily in London but spending as much time as possible in West Africa, her quiet revolution continues through education. She teaches kora to a wide range of people, the majority of whom are women, and has collaborated with her father in order to establish the Amadu Bansang Jobarteh School of Music in the village of Kembujeh, Gambia. Started in 2006 and close to completion, the school will honour the legacy of her grandfather and encourage younger generations to learn about the griot tradition and the role it has played in the Manding culture for more than seven centuries.
Jobarteh's formal education took place in the UK where she spent the majority of her formative years. Continuing her inherent passion for music, she attended the Royal College of Music studying cello, piano and harpsichord. She later went on to study composition at the renowned Purcell School of Music, where she became involved in the production of River of Sound with the Irish Chamber Orchestra as well as other projects with the Viva Chamber and Royal Philharmonic Orchestras.
Although she achieved much during her school years, she was uneasy with the strained connection with West African culture. Feeling repressed because of her classically European focussed education and the lack of opportunity to include the kora in her day-to-day learning, her teenage life was split between necessity and passion. 'I felt zero connection with anything except the work,' she remembers. '1 just worked really hard and came back at weekends and did tours. I was still touring in the UK at that time so it was just a really weird double life and I didn't really talk about it at school so no one really knew apart from teachers.
'Then someone saw something on TV and it was all over! I didn't want it [performing] to mix because in my head, that was how I stayed sane. I just kept them separate. I'm doing this [school] for a purpose which was to just get to the end of the road and when I'm done I'll come back.'
In spite of the duality in her existence, this experience undoubtedly played a significant role in her formation as a musician. As well as instilling a sense of discipline, it encouraged her to approach a diverse range of musical influences, including soul, R'n'B and jazz, some of which feature in some form on her current album.
From around 2006 onwards she started to form collaborations with a host of key figures in the African music scene such as Oumou Sangare, Kasse Mady Diabate, Toumani Diabate, Sambou Suso, luldeh Camara, Habib Koite, Damon Albarn and Tunde legede. Featuring on albums such as HKB FiNN's Light and Shade of Darkness, Music of the Diaspora - The Soundtrack to 500 Years Later, and writing an award winning score for Owen Alik Shahadah's film Motherland, her experience and exposure began to grow.
By last year, she had already started the process of composing an album. Working on songs with artists such as luldeh Camara, Sankung Jobarteh, Femi Temowo, Baba Galle Kante, Babacar Dieng, and Surahata Susso, a distinctive sound began to take shape. She struck up relationships with linguists such as Wilfred Abdul Willy, who helped her with her Malinke and other translations for tracks on her album. Armed with the musical and cultural alchemy to fonnulate an album, she took full control of the creative process as writer, composer and producer, leaving only the final mix in the capable hands ofFemi Temowo. By early 2011 Fasiya and the first female kora virtuoso were complete.
Jobarteh's path towards Fasiya has been one of both personal and musical self-realisation and its brilliance is testament to Jobarteh's own talent, detennination and integrity, as well as the power of the griot tradition she represents. As she tries to leave the stage after a truly entertaining two-hour set, pursued by a thunderous roar for an encore, her delight at the crowd's overwhelmingly positive response to her debut is infectious.
Although she would be the last to admit it, if Fasiya turns out to be the only album she ever releases, she has already secured her legacy as one ofthe most recognisable daughters of the griot tradition. Giving in to the will of the baying crowd Jobarteh starts to play the encore and the faintest prospect of this being her only work is absolved.Jobarteh's career has only just begun.
no comments
