Fascinating . . . Just Fascinating . . .

The other day, Famoro invited me to the studio where he was going to be doing some arranging work with his good friend, the superlative balafola Abou Sylla. (Abou had recently recorded some base tracks in a studio in New Hampshire, and now wanted Famoro to help him arrange some vocal parts.) After introductions and a bit of settling-in, I spent the first few hours of the afternoon catching up on some transcribing work, while occasionally glancing up to observe the action. It was phenomenal to see the jelilu doing studio-based praising work. They had a long list written out of potential praise recipients and the singer would improvise praise melodies from a short list of patrons that Famoro had fed him just moments earlier. So from the long list, the “head jeli” would select the most appropriate short list and tell the names to the singer at the appropriate times and on a need-to-know basis. Seems obvious that it would be that way now that I think of it, but it was sure fascinating to see it actually happening . . .

Another really interesting part of that day was when Famoro, frustrated with the singer’s slow progress in creating a vocal harmony, motioned to the computer monitors and said to the technician, “I want to see the tonality. Isn’t there some way that you can show me the tonality?” That Famoro wanted to have a visual representation of the music to be able to pinpoint a particular spot and then experiment with a few harmonic options for that spot is just fantastic for me. Many people I know have made informal claims that writing down African musics somehow robs them of their feeling. I think that Famoro’s question to the studio tech is a clear example of how visually representing music can facilitate both its acquisition and its enrichment. (Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that visual music is somehow richer or easier to learn, just that to assert the opposite is equally silly.)

Anyway, after those few hours behind my laptop, I stepped outside to continue my practicing. It was good to have the opportunity to play with a bit more force. In the apartment, I often have to play unnaturally softly. I think the practice I do in the apartment is still effective, but it was nonetheless good to get out and really do some wailing. Later that afternoon both Famoro AND Abou came out to offer guidance. They have very different playing styles and it was helpful to experience a little of what each one brings to the table.