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Art

Luju Festival 2025: Where Soul, Story, and the African Future Converge

Set against the rolling hills and golden light of Eswatini, the Luju Festival is more than a date on the cultural calendar it is a living, breathing celebration of African creativity, heritage, and vision. On this particular year, me and my Fifty Four mag team enjoyed it as one of the most transformative and unforgettable festival experiences of our lives.

From the moment we arrived, the energy in the air told me it wasn’t just another event. Beyond the music, the food, and the fashion, it was the way the Luju team welcomed us with open arms, held space for us with care and intention, and made us feel instantly at home – every moment steeped in generosity, cultural pride, and joy.

I had the privilege of experiencing it all alongside my dear friend Mathilda Molokwane. Sharing the festival with her made every moment more meaningful, from the laughter between events to our shared awe as we watched the magic unfold and the pride involved in showcasing Mathilda’s incredible work. We thus enjoyed an opportunity not just to attend but to amplify the brilliance of African creatives like her in a space where storytelling isn’t just celebrated but necessary.

What sets Luju apart is its programming, an artful blend of performance, discussion, and cultural exchange. Beyond the music and runway moments, the festival carved out space for deep, strategic conversations about the future of African creativity, food systems, and general entrepreneurship.

The fashion panel (themed “A Return to the African Future”) brought together an exceptional lineup featuring Thula Sindi, Jay Jay Worral, Maureen Masingue, Phumzile Ntuli, and Sithembila Masuku: all sharing invaluable insights on scaling creative businesses and exploring how entrepreneurs can grow through operational intelligence, strong relationships, disciplined strategies, and well-built operating systems. The discussion touched on creating intentional distance between the brand and customer to build aspiration, tapping into new markets, using technology (including AI) to access critical data, and positioning businesses to attract investment.

Other sessions went far beyond fashion and delved into sustainability strategies, the importance of data access for making informed decisions, and the role cooperatives (e.g., Vukani Bo Make) play in empowering local communities – conversations reminding us that cultural work is inseparable from economic license.

Credits: Mathilda Molokwane
Credits: Mathilda Molokwane

Some of the biggest moments centred on ancestral intelligence – mostly deep wisdom carried through generations – and we explored the significance of seeds as a source of life and living organisms within our cultural worldview. There were also conversations about ancestral innovation in the foods we eat, forage, and grow and urgent reflections on the detrimental impact of genetically modified seeds and (ultimately) food in general.

We spoke of Africa’s indigenous foods, many of which grow wild along our coasts and in the veld, and the need to return to organic farming rooted in our traditions. This was tied to the medicinal value of natural herbs in addressing today’s unprecedented health issues as well as the link between food choices and climate resilience. Coastal foraging, whether with respect to seaweed or edible ocean plants, for example, was celebrated as both ancient knowledge and future opportunity.

Equally moving were discussions on ancestral practices and rituals involving clay and vessels, including how they can restore our relationship with the land, embed meaning into our food rituals, and allow for spiritual communication between people, objects, and nature. Clay, likewise, is a metaphor for grounding, planting, and reconnecting.

The disconnection many feel today was also acknowledged, souls displaced from the land where they were born due to work, school, and migration, as a reminder that we’re not separate from what we eat. In traditional thought, our diets go beyond sustenance as indeed part of who we are.

Credits: Mathilda Molokwane

 

When the sun began to set, the sky was painted in hues of gold and rose as bonfires were lit, music floated through the breezy night air, and the moon rose to watch over us. I’ll never forget sitting under the stars, feeling the drums in my chest and knowing I was part of something timeless.

Then there was Sipho “Hotstix” Mabuse, my favourite performer of the weekend who danced on stage like the young man he’s always been at heart. Watching him, phone in hand, from the edge of the stage was pure joy. Not just about capturing a legend, it was about being in the moment while celebrating the vitality and spirit of African music as well as a living legend.

The rest of the weekend was a mixture of sensory joy: live music moved through our bones, food told a story of heritage in every bite, and fashion blurred the lines between past and future. Everywhere we looked, we saw evidence of the tireless work of the organisers, the dedication of the crew, and the unshakable passion of the artists and volunteers.

 

More than a professional milestone, this Luju partnership shines through as a cultural and personal gift affirming our Fifty Four mag mission: to champion African voices, preserve heritage, and tell the stories that remind us of who we are.

I left Eswatini with a heart full of gratitude, a mind brimming with new ideas, and the unshakable feeling that it was one of the best festival experiences I’d ever had in my 30 years of existence. Swaziland owes us nothing because the Luju team gave us everything.

Luju, thank you for the soul, the story, and the future. Until we meet again, may your colours stay bold, your music stay loud, and your spirit remain unshakably African.

Credits: Mathilda Molokwane
Culture

The Power of African Music: A Story of Identity, Empowerment, and Collective Memory

African music is not just an art form but a system of communication, space for healing, and tool for building community. Across the continent, music functions beyond entertainment. It is deeply embedded in how people express identity, cope with trauma, celebrate life, and pass down stories and values. In many African societies, music plays a central role in everything from religious practices to political resistance.

What makes African music so powerful is its ability to hold multiple meanings at once. A rhythm can carry history. A song can serve as a political statement. A dance beat can unite people who speak different languages. For many Africans, music offers a way to reclaim agency – especially in contexts shaped by colonisation, migration, and cultural suppression.

Mike Vanschoonder Walt via AdobeStock

One of the strongest examples of music as empowerment is seen in the post-independence era. As African nations gained sovereignty, artists used music to articulate their hopes, fears, and visions for the future. Beyond the creation of new genres, it was about reclaiming narratives, celebrating heritage, and resisting ongoing forms of cultural domination.

Genres like Makossa, Bikutsi, and Assiko (all from Cameroon) became significant during this time. More than musical styles, they’re cultural responses to the complexities of modern African life.

Steward Masweneng via Unsplash
Proper Quality via Unsplash

One of the strongest examples of music as empowerment is seen in the post-independence era. As African nations gained sovereignty, artists used music to articulate their hopes, fears, and visions for the future. Beyond the creation of new genres, it was about reclaiming narratives, celebrating heritage, and resisting ongoing forms of cultural domination.

Genres like Makossa, Bikutsi, and Assiko (all from Cameroon) became significant during this time. More than musical styles, they’re cultural responses to the complexities of modern African life.

nice m nshuti via unsplash
matt benson via unsplash

Different musical styles offer unique ways to respond to social change and urban life. Makossa, originally developed in the city of Douala, is closely linked to the rise of a modern, confident African middle class. Drawing from traditional rhythms but embracing the influence of global genres like funk and rumba, Makossa didn’t just grow into a popular sound but ultimately reflected mobility, aspiration, and redefinition: its expansion from local dance halls to international airwaves making it a sonic symbol of African cities transforming in real time. This style allowed Cameroonians – both at home and abroad – to experience a sense of connection that transcended location, with “Soul Makossa” by Manu Dibango tagged as one of the most sampled tracks of all time.

Bikutsi, meanwhile, serves a different function. Rooted in the traditions of the Beti people, it’s fast-paced, driven by percussive beats and provocative lyrics, and known for addressing social issues, taboos, and gender dynamics. Historically played by women in community gatherings, it became a tool for expression (and even defiance) and transitioned from village ceremonies to urban nightclubs over time: evolving in sound but not purpose. The style still gives voice to the oft-unheard.

 

Assiko, on the other hand, carries the rhythm of rural resilience. Emerging from Bassa communities, its structure is simple. Its expression? Anything but. The music is typically performed with acoustic instruments and a sharp, driving beat that relies heavily on improvisation. What sets Assiko apart is how it draws attention to the body, not just as a dancer’s tool but as a storytelling conduit. Every jump, spin, and stomp is an assertion of presence. It’s music grounded in lived experience – raw, real, and communal – as a clear reminder that tradition isn’t static. It adapts and survives through movement, spontaneity, and shared participation.

Altogether, these genres show how music helps people navigate complex histories and present-day realities as living archives housing stories of migration, colonisation, resistance, and innovation.

African music also plays a central role in healing, both individually and collectively. In societies where therapy or formal mental health services are perhaps not widespread or culturally accepted, music offers a socially integrated method of processing emotion. Drumming circles, praise songs, and mourning chants are all examples of music’s utility in managing grief, building resilience, and reconnecting with others.

African music continues to evolve in today’s globalised world. Just as digital platforms introduce traditional sounds to new audiences, young artists blend hip-hop, electronic music, and more into ancestral rhythms. Yet, at its core, the role of music remains the same as a space where African people can see and define themselves and find one another.

Makossa, Bikutsi, and Assiko remind us that music is not just part of African culture – it is culture. In this way, identity is not only preserved but continually reimagined.

References
Masterclass, Makossa Music Guide: A Brief History of Makossa Music, 2022
Trans Atlantic Cultures, Makossa, 2022
China Africa, Bikutsi: a musical genre from the equatorial forest of Cameroon, 2021
MDLBEAST, The History of African Music: A Harmonious Journey Through Time, 2024 
Scientific Research, The Effective Power of Music in Africa, 2015
African Art Times, The Beat of Africa: Exploring the Diversity, Peculiarities and Complexity of African Music, 2025


Entertainment

“Where the Water Meets the Womb”: DemiMa’s Sonic Journey Between Legacy and Liberation

DEMIMA by Tolu Elusade

There’s a stillness to DemiMa’s presence that makes you want to lean in, not because she demands the room but because she tends to it like a garden. It’s a kind of quiet confidence that doesn’t announce itself but resonates long after. Maybe it’s the echo of her grandfather’s piano or the eThekwini sea winds. Maybe it’s her London grit softened by meditative grace. Maybe it’s all of that.

“People ask me who I am behind the scenes,” she says, her voice warm but grounded – like someone who’s made peace with the weight of many things. “There’s not really a ‘behind’ and ‘in front’ anymore, though. I live close to the core. What you hear in the music – that’s really me. A revolutionary raised by revolutionaries, my intention to present solutions to my community for a better future.”

Born into the Mseleku family – South African jazz royalty – DemiMa could’ve leaned into expectation but chose to dance with it instead. “There were moments,” she admits, “where I felt the shadow of it. The weight. You know, people project legacy onto you, but you’re still figuring out what’s yours. I never felt trapped by it and now see it as a seed, not a ceiling.”

What a seed it is. Her sound doesn’t cling to genre so much as it stretches across various – electronic soul woven with jazz curiosity, peppered with ancestral textures and meditative breath. It feels both intentional and improvisational, like a prayer meeting polyrhythm. Sound like a contradiction? DemiMa’s okay with that,. her life built on beautiful dualities.

“I always say South West London gave me the tools, but eThekwini gave me the spirit. London sharpened my ear – it’s diverse, it’s messy, it’s urgent – but Durban taught me how to listen. Like really listen: to space, to silence, to land. That’s what anchors me.”

That anchor is evident in her EP Duality Pt. 2: Peace, a deeply meditative body of work that resists the urge to rush. “I wanted to create a space where people can rest,” she explains. “There’s so much noise in the world, and even more pressure to be seen, to produce. This project was about allowing stillness to speak.”

Finnian Hadiep via unsplash

Stillness, of course, doesn’t mean stagnation. DemiMa is in motion, collaborating with legends like Madala Kunene, opening for Thandiswa Mazwai, and curating “The Sanctuary” at the We Out Here festival. When asked what she’s learned from those encounters, she pauses.

“You know what struck me?” she says with a smile. “They’re deeply grounded people. Especially Madala; —he carries history in his fingertips, but is light with it. Working with him reminded me that mastery isn’t about doing more. It’s about doing less, with more presence.”

This philosophy extends to her sound therapy and wellness work. For DemiMa, music isn’t just performance – it’s medicine. “Sound is vibration,. and vibration shifts energy. So for me, the studio, the stage, the yoga mat… They’re all temples.”

Finnian Hadiep via unsplash

She speaks like someone who’s done the inner excavation. Not hurried. Not performative. Just… honest. “I think we’re moving into a time where artists don’t have to choose between genres, between cultures, between healing and hustle. The next wave of electronic soul, of jazz, will be global, bilingual, and emotionally intelligent.”

There’s no grandeur in the way she says it. No sell. Just conviction and the kind of quiet clarity that makes you feel safe even as you’re asked to stretch. Maybe that’s what makes DemiMa who she is – not the legacy, not the genre-bending, not the buzz – but the fact that she makes space.

Not just for herself but for the rest of us to exhale too.

DemiMa stands as a quiet revolutionary rooted in jazz legacy, shaped by global rhythms and guided by spiritual intuition. With a deep commitment to healing through music, her projects like Duality Pt. 2: Peace and “The Sanctuary” speak to an artistry that’s not only about sound but restoration. DemiMa isn’t just crafting music; she’s building sanctuaries, one breath, one note, one moment of truth at a time.

Entertainment

Celebrating the Soul of African Jazz

South African Mpumi Dhlamini speaks rapidly, his energy reflecting a life filled with multiple passions – music, fitness and studying. 

Once a promising football player, he left the sport, realising it was his father’s dream, not his. Now, he’s a sought-after music producer, a multi-instrumentalist, a nutritionist and a personal trainer. 

His insatiable thirst for knowledge sets him apart. He approaches instruments with an analytical mindset, believing muscle memory and repetition are key to mastering them. Yet his initial motivation for learning an instrument was simple – romance. 

Mpumi says, “At the National School of the Arts in Johannesburg, I realised no one would take a recorder player seriously, so I needed something else.”

Following his time at Drakensberg Boys Choir, he enrolled at the arts school, where studying two instruments was mandatory. Voice was one, but piano was off the table – Grade 8 exams had to be completed before matric (the final year high school exam in South Africa), and he hadn’t started. He refused to play the recorder and warned his mother he would fail. But failure wasn’t in his nature. Determined, he taught himself piano faster than the formal curriculum allowed. 

He says, “I worked hard. I didn’t have a piano at home, so I practised at school. I co-wrote the school song and released my first album three years after starting piano at 17. My sports background made me hyper-competitive in a healthy way. Jumping to Grade 7 piano in two years seemed impossible, but I went straight to Grade 8 and released an album a year later.”


 

With trumpet and voice as his foundation, he explored orchestral percussion, mastering marimba, xylophone and timpani. But none were chordal instruments. So, he taught himself piano and learned saxophone melodies while working on his debut album. “That was good enough for me. Then, I added bass, accordion and more. I’ve lost count. My approach is multidisciplinary.”

Celebrated multi-instrumentalist and award-winning producer

Now, nearly two decades later, Mpumi is a celebrated multi-instrumentalist and award-winning producer. A self-proclaimed outlier in jazz, he’s never followed the conventional path. 

Mpumi says, “There’s a sound people call African jazz – I don’t know what that means, and I don’t identify with it. I want my music to compete on a world stage.” 

His style is a hybrid of digital and analogue, often featuring over 40 instruments and 100 vocals in a single song. His skills as a sound engineer allow him full creative control. “I mix, master, design my artwork – I do everything. This way, I execute my vision without inconveniencing anyone.”

 


His career follows a three-year cycle: performing, producing, directing for TV, and film scoring. His credits include Afro-soul vocalist Lira’s award-winning Celebration DVD, albums for South African singers Lulu Dikana, Brian Temba and Wanda Baloyi, and musician Sphelelo Mazibuko. He has also composed for film, animation, and even the Zulu-dubbed SpongeBob SquarePants. 

He says, “When the music industry slows, I pivot. When another sector does the same, I move again. This year, I want to consolidate everything and build a team.”

Despite his workload, he prioritises efficiency over long hours. 

“Nobody sleeps more than me. I get nine hours a night. Yesterday, I was scoring a play, The Picture of Dorian Gray, which I’m approaching like a film score. I also compose for Sesame Street and Takalani Sesame. I can create 40 songs for an episode in two hours. I work fast, so I get to rest more. A six-month task? I finish it in three weeks, then take time off.”

To date, Mpumi has three and a half albums, but he won’t count his latest, a self-titled remake of his past work, as his fourth. He’s reimagining his music as he transitions to a new sound – more classical, rooted in the 60s, yet diverse. 

He says, “This album blends East African influences with Mongolian sounds and Japanese melodies. I sing in Venda and Wolof. The cultural diversity will surprise people. I might drop another six albums this year – I’m sitting on over 50 unreleased albums. I just need to close this chapter of my sound.”

You can experience his music live at the Diamond City Jazz Festival in Botswana on 29 March 2025. For the first time in his 18-year career, he will perform his album exactly as recorded, without compromise. 

 



“Rehearsal time and musician availability have always been challenges. My music has a million sections, and it’s tough for players to remember every part. This time, we started prepping two months in advance, which I’ve never done. Finally, my music will be performed the way it was meant to be heard.”

How does he stay motivated? He answers, “Self-inspiration. People ask me what I listen to. Ironically, I don’t listen to jazz. I listen to hip-hop and everything else.”

Jazz greats and young musicians share the stage

The Diamond City Jazz Festival celebrates a shared cultural heritage, bringing together artists and audiences in a collective love for jazz. The lineup includes festival director and jazz legend Sipho “Hotstix” Mabuse, tenor saxophonists McCoy Mrubata and Steve Dyer, and trumpeter and saxophonist Bhudaza Mapefane. They will perform alongside rising stars like Mpumi, vocalist Nono Siile, singer-songwriters Azana, Jordan Moozy and Mpho Sebina.

Sipho, a pioneer of South African jazz, continues to inspire generations with classics like Burn Out. McCoy blends Cape jazz traditions with modern sounds, while Bhudaza’s soulful saxophone and deep Sesotho jazz roots add richness to the mix. Steve, a master saxophonist and flautist, rounds out the lineup with his signature versatility.

Beyond performances, the festival offers mentorship sessions, allowing emerging artists to engage with industry legends, refine their techniques, and deepen their understanding of jazz’s cultural significance. This initiative reflects the festival’s mission to nurture new talent, honour musical heritage and connect generations through jazz.

 

The Diamond City Jazz Festival, Botswana, 29 March 2025

Tickets are available at Webtickets for Botswanan Pula (BWP) 300. The festival takes place at Bojanala Waterfront in Botswana on 29 March 2025, from 9am to 11:30pm. 

For more information or sponsorship opportunities, contact Nono Matuwane at +060 444 5376 or Rapula Kegopilwe at +267 75 783 070.




Culture

Hollywoodbets Cape Town Street Parade 2025

Cape Town came alive on 4 January 2025 as the Hollywoodbets Cape Town Street Parade filled the streets with vibrant music, colour, and energy. More than 75,000 people gathered to witness over 20,000 minstrels and 22 troupes weave through the city, from the historic District Six to the lively Bo-Kaap. Ghoema beats echoed through the air, sequins sparkled in the sunlight, and the spirit of the Kaapse Klopse lit up every corner.



The Purple Mile buzzed with excitement as performers dazzled in beautifully crafted costumes, and the Grand Parade, with City Hall standing proudly in the background, became a hub of music and dance. This was Cape Town in full celebration – a city honouring its heritage and uniting people through rhythm, colour, and joy.



This year was especially significant as it marked the 21st anniversary of the Kaapse Klopse Karnival Association. Every performance reflected months of hard work and creativity, highlighting the deep-rooted pride of the local communities in preserving this iconic tradition.

Cape Town once again proved why this event holds such a special place in the city’s heart – a vibrant, joyous display of unity and culture that continues to inspire.



Follow future festivities, up-to-date news and all things Klopse via their social media channels:

Image credits: Karriem Salie and Niyaaz Adhikarie

Entertainment

Breaking Barriers Through Song

In a world where stories of resilience often get overshadowed by the noise of daily life, the Ndlovu Youth Choir rises above. Their journey from the rural village of Moutse in Limpopo, South Africa, to the world’s grandest stages is not just an inspiring story, but a celebration of breaking barriers and transforming lives.

What started as an after-school programme for orphaned and vulnerable children by the Ndlovu Care Group has evolved into an international sensation, captivating hearts worldwide. Since its beginnings in 2009, the Ndlovu Youth Choir has rewritten the possibilities for African youth, showing that even in the face of adversity, hope can not only survive but thrive.

(read the full story in issue 08)

Culture

Engage! The Africa Experience

There are two kinds of journeys in life. With one, there’s a path to follow – perhaps one carved by generations past – but you have no idea of where you might end up.

The other journey is the opposite; you can see the destination clearly, but there’s just one problem: the road hasn’t been travelled or even built yet.

Bringing Engage! Summits to Africa was the latter kind of journey. Engage! is the premier luxury wedding and events industry summit of its kind – the original masterclass, if you will. For 16 years, it has brought its curated gatherings – complete with sought-after speakers and revered industry thought leaders – to the most awe-inspiring corners of the world.

Whether I was drooling over the dreamy images and videos they would post from the likes of Dubai and Dublin or, eventually, attending a summit myself as a guest, I always had one unshakable thought: I’m going to bring this to Zambia.


(read the full story in issue 08)

Entertainment

A New African String Theory

Ballake Sissoko and Derek Gripper at the Market Theatre,Johannesburg. 2024

Capetonians are notorious for waking up late to secure tickets for performances they want to see or needing serious motivation to attend an event not on their doorstep. Unless musical royalty like Malian kora player Ballaké Sissoko and South African guitarist Derek Gripper are in town. Their Baxter Theatre shows quickly sold out, as did their Market Theatre Joburg bookings, warranting an extra show added to the schedule. Durban fans also came out in support. “It’s quite remarkable. I feel very moved that people have responded as they have,” says Derek.

Ballaké Sissoko playing at the Baxter Theatre – Image credit: Lambro Tsiliyiannis

Derek Gripper playing at the Baxter Theatre – Image credit: Lambro Tsiliyiannis

Their first South African tour, on the back of concerts in the US, Turkey, France, Switzerland, and Sweden, was a resounding success and a reminder of the power of music as a universal language. “Ballaké literally speaks zero English. We use Google Translate to determine what time to meet in the hotel lobby,” quips Derek.

In essence, their dialogue is between instruments. They don’t discuss music, what they will play, or which key. “We go on stage, and somebody starts, and the other person follows. We have a shared knowledge of the griot repertoire, from old compositions to more modern ones, and we have a shared language for improvisation, learned from the ancient songs of the Mandé Empire. Every time we play together it is different,” he says.

They don’t have post-mortems either. What better way to nurture a brilliant musical career with no potential for argument? “The trick is always to forget the night before and start afresh the next day; Ballaké is a master of this. I have learned a lot from his approach to making music: he goes on stage as though he is going to sit there knitting a scarf, and then produces the most sublime music. He’s there to practice a craft. There is no separation between the performance and his day-to-day playing. This means that performances remain as living events,” says Derek.

Ballaké’s official name is Djelimoussa – Musa the griot. He belongs to the lineage of griots, hereditary musicians who pass on their skills and knowledge orally. Griots are musicians, historians, advisors, and wordsmiths.

According to legend, the first jelis date back to the time of the Prophet Mohammed. They played vital roles in the courts of the Mande people, who ruled powerful African empires from the 11th century onwards. Some of their repertoire dates to Sunjata Keita, founder of the Mali empire in 1235, or even earlier.

Ballaké’s father, Djelimady Sissoko, was a brilliant kora player born in Gambia, southern Senegal. Ballaké grew up playing the 21-string West African harp, learning by ear and practice, often skipping school to do so. When his father passed away in 1981, 13-year-old Ballaké took his place in the ensemble, becoming its youngest member.

Meanwhile, Derek was inspired by the kora. He transcribed and recorded significant kora works, including Ballaké’s, transforming classical guitar repertoire. “My contribution is to interpret music that existed in one tradition and one instrument and create the idea of Ballaké being a composer like celebrated European composers. This does two things; it reminds us that composers come from Africa and rehabilitates the idea of a composer who has become stilted and disconnected from actual playing practice, the craft of the hands.

“The transcriptions that I made 10 years ago were my way of learning the music. In the process, I learned that there’s a lot about it that defies having a concrete version. It’s kind of a memetic language that’s shared amongst all the musicians, and all the people there really. The music lives, so it changes, and the very idea of having a fixed score is kind of against its nature.”

The pair first played together at an event in London to mark 50 years of kora studies. Their spontaneous set proved so successful that they recorded their debut album – again a series of improvised encounters – at Platoon’s London the following evening.

“Musically, we tested each other,” says Ballaké, explaining that spontaneity is the most magical aspect of their encounters. “We have the mastery of our instruments, the technique and a good ear. Derek is very curious, that’s very important.”

Derek responds, complimenting Ballaké’s listening skills. “He’s such a good listener. It’s not what he plays, it’s how he plays it. He’s an amazing interpreter, the prime master of timbre. For me to play with Ballaké is to play with one of the great composers of our continent. It’s as though somebody called me up and said I had a gig with Bach.”

Derek calls their collaboration “a game of musical communication” through which they build a language of music together, enabling them to learn each other’s character. “Ballaké learns how I like to disrupt things, and he masterfully goes with that flow. I learn to listen carefully. There is so much wealth in paying close attention; you don’t have to go far to find something new.”

Rather than succumbing to the World Music label, if their music must be categorised at all, listening to it is instead otherworldly. “We are solo acoustic performers playing quiet instruments that need the audience’s full attention. And we have made our careers in a world where music is divided into categories, in our case, World Music, where performance contexts prefer big ensembles that can make a loud noise (Africa is always the party music). We represent a different vision of African music, as chamber music, as intimate music, as the music of speech between friends. So, we have both continued to honour the nature of our respective instruments, finding contexts where the instruments work best, and never changing the nature of the instrument, or our playing, to fit the music industry,” says Derek.

Derek’s transformation of the guitar with the kora in mind, reflecting two decades of dedication to a craft rich in history and wisdom, makes these African string sessions unique. “We’ve been able to do something that’s actually very different to what’s normally done on the kora. One of the reasons for this is that Ballaké has a new kind of kora that allows him to change the key in a second compared to 10 minutes on the old traditional koras. That has allowed us to explore tonalities and sonorities that you won’t hear in traditional kora music. Another is that we’re both improvisers, not in the sense of someone taking a flashy solo, but as storytellers. We both like to tell stories with music, going from one memory of a piece into a recollection of something that maybe never existed, then moving into this stream of consciousness, memories of pieces we both know, creating pieces we don’t know, him playing something I’ve never heard and reacting to that – there’s a kind of narrative that continues. In the more traditional pieces, you’d stick within the structure of the original piece and elaborate on that in a very small way. In the nineties, Ballaké recorded an album where you can hear a kind of contemporary improvisation going on – melodic but keeping within the structure of the piece. We’ve broken out of that structure.”

Images above by Lambro Tsiliyiannis

Lead/Main image by Hugh Mdlalose