Home » Jazz Articles » Live Review » Boubacar Traoré At Regional Cultural Centre

Boubacar Traoré At Regional Cultural Centre

View Slideshow

Courtesy Donna El Assad

By Ian Patterson
July 21, 2024
View read count

Little wonder that Bill Frisell confessed to being confounded—and equally spellbound—when he first saw Traoré perform.

Boubacar Traoré
Regional Cultural Centre
Earagail Arts Festival
Letterkenny, Ireland
July 14, 2024

Letterkenny's Regional Cultural Centre is not the biggest of venues, but a full house is a full house. Malian singer-songwriter and guitarist Boubacar Traoré has been packing them in around the world since the early '90s, though his career dates back to the beginning of the '60s when his songs, a staple of Mali's national radio, made him a celebrity. This, the second of just two Irish dates for Traoré, was part of the 37th Earagail Arts Festival, a summer celebration of international arts, held throughout county Donegal.

Traoré, harmonica player Vincent Bucher and calabash player Jeremie Diarraand cut elegant figures in their matching white shirts and trousers adorned with black Malian patterns. The outfits underlined that this was a professional show, and for 85 minutes the three musicians certainly gave their all musically. There was perhaps a slightly processional feel to the set, with thirteen songs reeled off one after the after without any outreach in the form of banter or stories, while the enthusiastic applause between songs was greeted by Traoré with unembellished thanks in French and English. For Traoré, the songs did all the talking that was necessary.

With the opener, "Ni Waribi Fé," one of several songs from Kar Kar: Tiékoro Ba Diougou (Hambre Production, 2022) Traoré proved that at 81 his voice remains strong, his guitar playing assured. With three right-hand fingers resting on wood, Traoré picked the strings with index finger and thumb, while his left-hand juggled chords and entrancing, riff-like motifs. His deceptively simple yet intricate fingering, kora-influenced, rendered a stream of beautiful melodies and coursing rhythms. Little wonder that

Bill Frisell

guitar, electric
b.1951

" data-original-title="" title="">Bill Frisell confessed to being confounded—and equally spellbound—when he first saw Traoré perform. Frisell would write "Boubacar" in tribute, also interpreting the Malian's song "Baba Drame" on The Intercontinentals (Nonesuch Records, 2003).

Wherever he goes Traoré is hailed as a Malian bluesman, a purveyor of desert blues, labels that also followed

Ali Farka Toure

guitar
1939 - 2006

" data-original-title="" title="">Ali Farka Toure throughout his career. Touré rejected the blues label, saying that the music he played was much older. But especially on slower numbers like "Naré na" and the aching "Bolo miné" Diarraand's repetitive rhythmic gait and Traoré's yearning, melancholy vocals spelt out the link between African folk and American blues, particularly the country-blues, folk-blues of the Mississippi Delta. At times, it really felt like a short step from Traoré's sensitive meditations to

Mississippi John Hurt

guitar, acoustic
1892 - 1966

" data-original-title="" title="">Mississippi John Hurt.

Traoré sings predominantly in his native Bambara language, so to the uninitiated it is the emotional feel of the delivery that matters. His lyrics, however, are key. He sings about home, family and great personal loss, of love's seasons and vicissitudes, of people's suffering amid the grind of daily life... and of the specter of death.

And at a time when war ravages the African continent, the Middle East and Europe, sending refugees fleeing every which way—and it was ever thus—the words to the cantering "Bembalisso," with Bucher leading the audience clap-along, are apropos: "I went to Africa I found war there. I went to the West I found war there. It's all gone wrong in this world. Nobody knows where to go anymore."

Few artists of any genre have penned a song as soul-bearing as "Les Enfants de Pierrette," where Traoré sings of his children's heartbreak at the death of their mother, Pierrette. His yearning vocals rose above an elegant, mantra-like guitar motif, while Bucher's solo, full of passion and tenderness, felt like cathartic release.

Throughout the set Bucher earned applause for a series of outstanding solos. At times his playing evoked an accordion more than a mouth organ, or the keening lyricism of a violin, but when belting out the blues, as on the slow-burning "Kavana," there were shades of

James Cotton

harmonica
b.1935

" data-original-title="" title="">James Cotton—Muddy Water's harpist—in his soulful swagger. From his chair, Traoré would raise his left leg and angle it towards the harmonica player when it was time to solo, shouting in encouragement when Bucher's fires were climbing. Diarraand fed the trio's rhythmic engine, his right fist working the calabash like a bass drum, while a ring on his left hand tapped sharp, dancing counter-rhythms.

"Je Chanterai Pour Toi" recalled Jacques Sarasin's 2001 documentary of the same name on Boubacar Traoré, an artfully shot film that traces the arc of Traoré's career with music and talking heads interspersed. It is certainly worth a watch (for French speakers), but a much more intimate portrait can be found in Dutch writer Lieve Joris' award-winning book Mali Blues (1996). Lieve's gritty narrative frames Traoré within the social, political, economic and cultural milieu of Mali—recounting the early fame, the hardscrabble years, love and unimaginable loss. Traoré and his wife lost their first child at eight months. They would lose five of their eleven children, two of them in the same week. In earning Traoré's trust, Joris elicits raw truths from her subject, and in doing so unveils the currents that have informed his music.

Diarraand led the singing and crowd participation on "Minuit,"—"at midnight, anything is possible—" a celebratory tune from Mali Denhou (Lusafrica, 2011) that stirred the Letterkenny audience to clap along once more. The clapping and cheering as the trio took its bows to a standing ovation was heartfelt, obliging the musicians to play an encore. They duly offered "Africa," Traoré's sunny tribute to the continent, to Mali, to fraternity and individualism.

In Mali Blues, Traoré tells the author about the recording session for the album Les Enfants de Pierrette (Stern's Africa, 1995), on which Ali Farka Touré plays guitar. "How can you sing about sad things like that?" Touré asked his friend about the title song. "Why not?" Traoré replied. "It all happened."

And that is what Traoré's music sounds like—the raw truth. Sad and beautiful, like life itself.

PREVIOUS / NEXT

Bluer Than Blue
< Previous

Afterdog
Next >

Support All About Jazz

All About Jazz has been a pillar of jazz since 1995, championing it as an art form and, more importantly, supporting the musicians who make it. Our enduring commitment has made "AAJ" one of the most culturally important websites of its kind, read by hundreds of thousands of fans, musicians and industry figures every month.

Go Ad Free!

To maintain our platform while developing new means to foster jazz discovery and connectivity, we need your help. You can become a sustaining member for as little as $20 and in return, we'll immediately hide those pesky ads plus provide access to future articles for a full year. This winning combination vastly improves your AAJ experience and allow us to vigorously build on the pioneering work we first started in 1995. So enjoy an ad-free AAJ experience and help us remain a positive beacon for jazz by making a donation today.