The Pan African Space Station Festival has logged off. The opening of October saw four days swimming in a celebration of sound that reached so far, it redefined 'African'. I caught 3 of its shows and cried twice.
My first gig, the War Chorale, was what i'll call the developmental leg of the fest - an accomplished composer conducting a youth choir and orchestra. At the entrance it sounded like hell let loose (which is ironic, because it was held at St. George's Cathedral, and you have to wonder how many crimes were committed in Africa in the name of god), but once inside, it subsided into experimental forays of choral song and jazz arrangements. Bheki Khoza composed and directed the Chorale, with a sense of humour and a sense of timing, throwing improv at everyone like the party trick that it is. Pity his poor students seemed to have neither, and often gulped like guinea pigs before launching into the moment he'd prompted them to be part of. The pianist was captivating, the combination of genres intriguing, but the sound rig was substandard, and we did try moving around to find the live spot in the sound. No luck. A strange experience. But great to see an investment in young talent and expose it to a mature audience.
The second i nearly missed. I knew Toumani Diabate was coming to town for this fest, but i did not care to sit through another session of bad sound at the Cathedral. Luckily a wise friend convinced me otherwise, pointing out that one instrument is a lot simpler to project into an empty vault than a whole choir and orchestra are...and that was when i met the kora.
The kora is an African instrument that makes the harp look half-hearted and overdressed. It's body is a calabash covered in skin. Its neck has 21 strings made of something as simple as fishing line. You play them with 4 fingers. Base. Melody. Improv. 4 fingers! It's beautiful.
Toumani is master of his instrument, 71st in his family line. His compositions are compellingly meditative, his demeanour doubly so. He jibes the audience with a subtle chuckle when he's not chaneling what he terms divine inspiration (and it really looks like it, and wasn't that ironic, again, in Jesus's dad's house, a Moslem man making god sing. Man, Ntone and Neo are clever with their venue choices. Music as meeting place for the reinterpretation of space. music as medium, more than message. because you are the message. and i am because you are). It also feels like divine inspiration. So when a fellow kora player and his wife (whom i'd been watching battleto tempt a two year old away from the stage) joined the the maestro and 42 strings and her voice rang out over the congregation in sounds i've never heard, i cried. i haven't ever felt that much love on a stage. and then the bloody lights came on again. sigh. mop mop. escape. was supposed to see the revellators after, but the bar they were playing at said they wouldn't get started till 1am at which time i am already a witch.
Last one was @ Gugu s'thebe in Langa. It doesn't take long to get to Langa. Just past the poo towers. (what else can we call them? for years i thought they were filled with sewage from the stench. And why don't the taggers go and do their deeds there, i wonder? they're so grey and bare they could use some decoration). Udaba are simple and outspoken, quite literally - spoken word, singing, and melodic, rhythmic arrangements i can't quite recall now. It made me dance. Then on came one sweaty mama armed with an electric guitar that's more ornamental than instrumental and her beaded, brilliant virgins (well, one looked like a nypmh, actually, but i'm letting good novels dictate the terms of my perception now). Energetic singing, superfly dancing for a really long time. Nice. Nothembi Mkhwebane. Then The Hypnotic Brass Ensemble, all the way from Chicago. 8 brothers, 1 cousin, brass to the max, hip hop overlaps, some cinematic overtures and digging hips. A whole gloop of happy young boys jumped up on stage and joined in, rapping, clapping, yowling. And when they closed their set by singing us nkosi sikelele, again the tears.
Sentimental cynic, aren't i?
PASS, big up for bringing Africa to the fairest Cape. All round, the richest display of musical diveristy I've seen so far in SA (um, yes, that includes you, Oppi). Only please sort out the sound in The Book Centre and St George's Cathedral for next year. I wasn't the only one it spoiled the show for.
You can catch podcasts on the website and check out the archives from last year's show. http://www.panafricanspacestation.org.za/index.php also videos and the usual stuff we spoilt web surfers expect from our online experience. what did Nikhil call it this morning? the remote control existence.
Do you know the words?
ssss. here. learn.
Zulu Version
Nkosi, sikelel' iAfrika,
Malupnakanyisw' udumo lwayo;
Yizwa imithandazo yethu
Nkosi sikelela,
Nkosi sikelela,
Nkosi, sikelel' iAfrika,
Malupnakanyisw' udumo lwayo;
Yizwa imithandazo yethu
Nkosi sikelela,
Nkosi sikelela,
Woza Moya (woza, woza),
Woza Moya (woza, woza),
Woza Moya, Oyingcwele.
Usisikelele,
Thina lusapho lwayo.
p.s. ten points for anyone who gives me a decent definition of an afro-ponce...or a funny one. But that's probably too easy, and all you've had to do till now is read....
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