A Solid Week

I've been back in Toronto for exactly one week now and I've hit the “4-hours daily” goal easily. A big part of what makes it easier to practice for 4 hours a day is waking up at 6:00 every morning and, after about twenty minutes of morning activities, holing myself up in one of the undergrad practice rooms for two hours straight. (Actually, though, I don't practice for two hours straight. I break the time up into twenty minute chunks. Every twenty minutes, my alarm goes off, I get up, stretch, have a drink of water, and then settle back down into practicing for another twenty minutes. It sure feels more effective that way.)

My New York experience has recharged my batteries and I've got a much clearer understanding now of the relationship between my long term goals and the day to day grind. After my two hours in the morning, I spend most of the rest of the day reviewing and transcribing videos. I do continue to practice the material that Famoro showed me—and I’m advancing daily on that material—but because Naby Camara is coming to Toronto this weekend, I’ve had to recalibrate the trajectory a little.

Last year Naby played at Toronto’s Afro-Fest and in addition to taking a 1 ½-hour lesson with him, I made a one-hour video document of future lessons which I would subsequently transcribe and teach to myself. He and I have kept in pretty close contact since then. (He’s shipped a few balaw to me here and also sent me a copy of his instructional DVD. He’ll be coming to Toronto to do some performing with Alpha Yaya Diallo on Thurday and Friday and he’s asked me to help him organize some workshops for the extra days he’ll be in town.)

So, despite still having quite a lot of Famoro’s material to work through, I’m currently focusing on Naby’s DVD and the one-hour video that we made. There’s enough material there to keep me busy for several months, but I’m trying to learn just enough of it before his arrival to be able to ask him some specific questions and, I hope, receive some of the kind of guidance that will make the acquisition of the rest of the material (both his and Famoro's) higher surrender. Luckily, two of the pieces that Naby and I have already worked on together are the same pieces on which I spent most of my time in New York: Soli and Fasson. It will be great to take another lesson with Naby and get a different perspective on those two pieces. I still have so many questions!

Ne Ka Bamanankan Kalan

There are many things this trip is confirming for me, but one of the biggies is that in order to learn this instrument, knowing the language is paramount. Remember this?: Somos peruanos y somos dueños de este conjunto primoroso del amor!

Famoro once said to me as we were listening to an Ensemble Instrumental track: “you see? the bala is singing here” and then proceeded to sing (in words) the melody that the balafola was charting. It sure would be easier to recall melodies if I had words to attach to them.

Michael and I have yet to confirm how many of my uOttawa courses can be applied to the York degree, but if I do in fact have to take another course after this, I think it makes good sense to propose that it be a directed reading (directed [or at least aided] by Toronto's and Ottawa's Malian communities, perhaps?) in which, using Parlons Bambara, Un Peu de Bambara Sans (Beaucoup de) Peine, and J’apprends le Bambara, I embark on a serious study of at least one of the Mande languages. Admittedly, it would make better sense that the language I learn be Maninkakan, but the materials for that language just aren’t there. Susu might be another option, but again, materials are scant. Besides, most Maninkakan speakers I ask (as well as my friend Saiba Suso, a polyglot and native speaker of Mandinka) suggest that Bamanankan is the most versatile of the Mande languages. (Hey . . . maybe a part of that directed reading could involve some kind of linguistic/ melodic analysis of Bamanan songs wherein I search for patterns that might facilitate the learning of sung bala melodies. I need to check my iTunes catalogue to see where I have written lyrics for heptatonic tracks in each of Bamanankan, Maninkakan, and Susu.)

Hidden Melodies

The "find melodies within the melodies" skill . . . Guinean players appear to exercise it on the fly--and very quickly at that. One thought about this: Maybe the more patterns and melodies I have in my head (and hands) for a particular piece, the easier it is to find the "hidden" melodies within that piece. (Indeed, many of the patterns are simply elaborations of a hidden melody that can be found, even if only approximately, in one of the basic accompaniments.) And a second thought: I wonder if the slow practice of that skill might involve/consist of writing the patterns out and very deliberately working through the process of finding those hidden melodies (much like how written translation can in a sense be considered the "slow practice" for interpretation.)

Either way, here’s another tweak I’d like to introduce into the notation system: some sleek way of fading and highlighting so I can illustrate (whether to myself or others) some of these hidden melodies. (Eg. Fading out the LH, to pay attention just to how the RH changes. Or highlighting an interior melody [that is carried between the two hands, but then is taken over by one hand while the other begins to lay down an independent, polymeter time-feel or explore other melodic combinations*]). Ho, that would be sexy!

*Incidentally, here is where a taxonomy of cadences would be a useful tool.

So That's How You Tune a Bala . . .

Two days and counting, but my bala is now wonderfully in-tune and the keys are tied up tight and looking great. It was a team effort. Famoro has quite an ear and I'm getting rather good at restringing. We have yet to re-attach the gourds, but for that, we've decided there's no rush.

Tomorrow, after Mosque, Famoro and his daughter Sona and I will head to either Brooklyn or the Bronx to find a park in which to sit down and do some playing. Now that our instruments are in tune with each other, I hope we'll get to do a lot more of that sort of thing. I'm looking forward to just holding down accompaniment patterns for Famoro. I anticipate that accompanying will be a great opportunity to concentrate on tone, accuracy, and form, as well as to be able to listen to where Famoro brings the melodies and how he draws different feels out of the time. I've been doing some of that all along of course, but not much, and when I'm holding down the accompaniment and my perspective is that of an active participant, I acquire a unique (if not deepened) understanding.

Tomorrow also marks the start of Keme Burema. Big day. Better get some rest.

You Can't Push on a Rope

I spend a lot of my time just memorizing patterns. It occurs to me that (and though it may seem obvious, I think it bears mentioning . . . ) I’m not just memorizing a sequence of notes or key positions. Yes, I am doing that, but part of what I’m also memorizing is how it feels to be doing it correctly--in my hands, wrists, fingers, arms, back, money-maker, etc…

When Famoro is across from me, showing me something new, I can recognize patterns and decipher the code very quickly--possibly (owing to a lot of experience) quicker than most. But gosh it takes me a long time to get my hands doing what my mind is asking them to. I wonder if there isn’t some way I can speed that part of the process up, by say . . . relaxing more? developing my concentration (whatever that means)? or just not worrying so much about speeding it up?

Famoro assures me that stuff comes with practice. And yes, it does. I have to do “more more more more more practice” but still, I wonder if, for example, making skill acquisition less urgent might not actually speed it up. After all, you can’t push on a rope . . .

Practice-meme #2: "You can't push on a rope."

Keyword Checklist (Revisited)

I think the bottom-line highest-priority keyword categories are (a) generally staying relaxed and clear-minded and (b) softening and reorganizing my left hand movements.

Thus, as I practice now, I've begun to mentally cycle through the following series of keywords:

1. relax
2. breathe

and then for the left hand, thinking about "softness" (i.e. lack of tension), grip, and movement through space:

3. the Famoro pinch
4. back of hand
5. wrist
6. elbows, shoulders, & back
7. head & eyes

I bet behavioral psychology's work with professional-level athletes would have something to say about this list . . . Hey, Dad, what were the five categories of skill again? proprioceptive? level of excitation? . . . what else? In fact . . . I wonder what I might learn by taking a look at some of the keyword lists that the figure skaters have used (or indeed continue to use.)

Mastery Criteria

I think I've observed that my practising (at least) feels more effective when I have mastery criteria for the things I’m trying to learn. (In fact, when I’m not using some kind of mastery criteria, my practising hardly feels effective at all--much more like I’m just mindlessly tapping the keys.)

Generally my mastery criteria are unambitious--usually just four or eight perfect, consecutive repetitions. I set the number low for a few reasons, but a big one is to accommodate the people I live with here. I imagine (and sense) that it’s way less irritating when I work on a pattern for only say, twenty minutes, rather than for an entire afternoon. I do think a lot about Tiger Woods’ "100 putts in a row" strategy though. When I get back to Toronto, it will be fun to try experimenting a bit with the numbers of perfect repetitions to see how my playing (and my enjoyment of practice sessions) is affected.

Now, if only there were a way to objectively measure performance so I could see numeric data on how my playing is affected . . . I wonder if the DDR pickup system couldn’t be rigged up to Jaliya somehow. I should get over to Austria for a week or two before my program is over to see what Harald and I can devise.

Indiana

The trip to Indiana was over the top. 21:30 departure from NYC, all night drive* and a 10:30 arrival to Indianapolis with a sheep head soup breakfast and then an immediate solo departure to Bloomington to check out the Archive. (In the end Famoro and Missia decided not to come because, with a performance coming up later that day, they put higher priority on catching a few zs. But it probably worked out for the better that way. It turns out that the Archive makes digital copies for research purposes. I’ve put in a request with the librarian and the archivist and they’ll contact me in a week or so to organize the shipping to New York of a CD with the Dioubaté brothers recordings. So, in the comfort of the apartment and as many times as we choose, we’ll have the means to appreciate Mamaya [and whatever other treasures we find on the CD] together.)

(By the way, something has been clarified to me: Sidi Djeli Dioubaté, the creator of Mamaya, was not Missia’s father but rather, her grandfather. It was his three sons that play in the Alberts [and subsequent Rouget] recordings, and the eldest, Sidi Mamadi Dioubaté, was Missia’s father.)

*During our trip we listened to only Guinean music--often at full volume and at least 10 times over to Missia’s and Abou’s new CDs. And man, was it interesting to hear (in English, French, and whatever Maninka I could make out) Famoro, Missia, and Baw discussing, singing along to, highlighting certain parts of, tracing new melodic combinations for, and arguing about the history of the tracks.



I returned from Bloomington with just minutes to spare to jump in the shower, get dressed and head over to the first part of the wedding celebration (of which, a video was just posted.) Tonight is the ceremony and reception. Missia and Famoro will perform again, this time with a DJ backing them. I’m pretty sure that once again I’ll end up being the money collector and sorter, but we’ll see. Maybe I’ll be too busy shaking it up. :)

And a Video!

This is Famoro and Missia performing as part of the celebration of the marriage of Ali and Housai Kouyaté. The video, obviously not of the greatest fidelity, was taken using my BlackBerry (a Pearl 8130.) Famoro was installed outside on the patio with Missia just inside the house elaborating praise song. Because Famoro couldn't see the guests as they arrived, every so often (every 10 minutes or so) Missia would just lean out the door to indicate the melodies that would be appropriate to play. When she would do this, she would also hand me a fistful of money to sort.

Wow, a Photo!

I'm in Indianapolis now. Movement is hectic, but because I've got a stronger connection, I'll take the opportunity to upload a few things. To begin with, here is a photo of what Missia lovingly refers to as "Todd's office": my practice and study corner in Famoro's Harlem apartment.