Kadialy Kouyate + Ryan Francesconi – Review
Cosy, candlelit table-seating, the muted sound of rain outside and a man two rows ahead of me who bore an unerring resemblance to newly-ex-Egyptian president Hosni Mubarak: this was the backdrop to two hugely varying approaches to traditional stringed music at Vortex Jazz Club.
First on stage was Kadialy Kouyate. Hailing from Senegal, Kouyate is part of a family heritage and wider tradition of griots – a griot being a sort of West African bard who perpetuates and contemporises a rich oral tradition. He is also a teacher at The School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) of the kora, which he played while performing folk and newly composed songs about friendship and family.
The kora itself is a 21-stringed, beautifully odd harp-like instrument, played with the thumb and index fingers of both hands. To some of us watching I suspect it was a slightly alien piece of equipment, but for Kouyate, it looked like an extension of his body. He effortlessly added staccatoed skittering runs and flamenco-sounding internal rhythms, while his voice moved between deep wistful melodies and drone-like accompaniment to the kora.
Ryan Francesconi followed, with an acoustic guitar set inspired by and adapted from Balkan music. Having recently arranged much of Joanna Newsom’s intricate epic 2010 LP Have One On Me, his solo output largely abandons the rhythmic contours of structure in favour of languorous meditations on harmony.
One Turkish-mode piece flared with pace and intricate execution, but Francesconi’s admission and aesthetic adherence to the idea that Balkan music’s speed can “wear your ears out” sacrificed something in the social, danceable tradition nestled in and sometimes obscured by his ponderous renditions.
Two musicians’ approach to traditional music: one ritualised, one exploratory. For me, Kouyate’s was a masterclass in maintaining the crucial social elements of a folk heritage. And from what looked like his gentle nodding-along, I think the Mubarak-alike would agree.