Growing up the daughter of a diplomat, Rokia Traore's youth saw expeditions to Saudi Arabia, France, Angola, and Belgium, to name just a few. An ideal childhood for a blossoming young musician, one might think, but significantly less so when you consider that Bamana nobility, the Malian ethnic group of which she is a member, are prohibited from becoming musicians, especially if you're a woman. Her decision to pursue her passion in spite of tradition gives some sense of her how deep her passion for her music must be, but her voice lets you truly understand.
Hers is the pure expression of a singular vision. Rather than wholeheartedly embracing or willfully avoiding the musical traditions of Mali and the other countries of her youth, Traore gracefully subsumes them into a sound all her own: guitar and n'goni (a traditional West African lute) weave together into a gossamer fabric, held taut by deep, resonant bass and speckled with hand percussion and balafon, all in support of her magnificently soaring vocals. Perhaps, though, she put it best herself when asked to describe her sound. "I can't say what style I am", she admitted. "But I just love music". For anyone who feels the same, there a lot to love in what she does.
This pared-down performance from a 2007 TED conference is her at her most ethereal, but Koronoko's dizzying bounce is a must-listen, as is Manian, on which she pairs with classical iconoclasts Kronos Quartet.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
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