happy holidays to all…

 

how do i end this year without first giving thanks?  it has been an amazing year. 

it has been a year of both challenge & triumph, soul-searching & liberation.  2007 

seems to have come and gone like a thief in the night – only this thief left plenty 

of treasures behind.

know that as i reflect on the past year and visualize what i’d like the new one to 

be, i am not only celebrating the small and large treasures picked up along the 

year’s path, but that i am celebrating you.  

i give thanks for your presence and your willingness to bear witness to my journey.

with all of my heart, i wish you the happiest of holidays and i pray that your new 

year be filled with peace, truth, and love.

always,

somi

 

ThanksGiving in Paris

 

over the past week and a half in paris, i’ve been working with the legendary malian producer cheik tidiane seck who invited me to sit in on his final mixing sessions for malian diva oumou sangare’s new record.  oumou was gracious and warm.  every smile or word she passed my way made me feel like we were sisters simply sitting down for tea after years of not seeing one other.   two days later i found myself at la cigale watching ismael lo, one of senegal’s most treasured voices.  when he sang the song “africa” i was completely overwhelmed with emotion and began to write with some sort of stream of consciousness.  in that moment, i heard the insistent whisper of reaffirmation that my voice is not mine alone, but one of those from a continent that has long been oppressed, forgotten, and denied.  artists like cheik, oumou, and ismael have kept so many people inspired over the years, and i give thanks for them. often times i wonder if i’ll ever reach as many people as i dream of…

washed over with light and sound

the night’s truth seemed thicker than the air

i saw yesterday staring back at my future

and i knew i’d never again sing alone

as i never did

 

A Homemade Revolution

imagine the grammy’s with an african remix… that was what the pearl of africa music (PAM) awards felt like.  toru dodo (my fabulous pianist and the official band photographer…lol!) took this shot of me backstage just after we finished performing.  we got into kampala a few days after our performance for his excellency president paul kagame and other invited heads of state in kigali.  the excited energy of red carpet press and ugandan bling was a complete 360 from the tight security and reserved atmosphere of the state dinner in rwanda.  we had a great time and were honored to perform at both events, but i can definitely say that while i expected the reserved formalities of our rwanda performances, i wasn’t sure what to expect at the PAM awards.  what pleased me most about the event was the tangible evidence of a viable and sustainable east african music industry.  this year marked the fifth edition of the PAM awards, which celebrates popular and traditional music from uganda, rwanda, kenya, burundi, and tanzania.  i remember coming to kampala for christmas holidays as a college student and hearing the same radio spins i’d hear in the states or europe.  the only popular african music at the time was from congolese soukous superstar staples like kofi olomide or papa wemba or perhaps a south african power ballad from brenda fassie or yvonne chaka chaka.  sure, there was the occasional breakout local hit from afrigo or the jimmy katumba and cecile kayirebwa classics, but none of the aforementioned artists were heard in regular rotation.  typically they’d get airtime during the african music hour.  that always bothered be.   shouldn’t we be hearing and supporting more of our african selves on all the radio shows, instead of being relegated to the “african music hour”??   i would meet or hear about african musicians and artists who could not support themselves through their work because people simply did not valuetheir work locally, regionally, and/or nationally.  let’s not even not talk about how much more difficult it becomes for these artists to plug into a global cultural stage.  actually, let’s imagine a culturally reversed situation for a moment.  maybe you lived in chicago or shanghai, and the onlymusic you heard regularly on both radio and tv was swahili hip-hop or french techno - simply because they were the folks wading in culturally imperialist glory that century.  most of the music was about a socio-cultural experience so completely removed from your own, but yet that’s who your society celebrated as the most important cultural voices of the era – all the while dismissing the longstanding and emerging artists next-door.  while many of you might consider yourselves musically open to sounds from every corner of the earth (the best way to experience music in my opinion), i think the latter hypothetical situation might inspire a revolution in the local arts community and in yourself.  let’s not get my position on this twisted though.  i’m not saying cut out the possibility of listening to “Other” folks’ cultural narratives for the sake of championing or privileging one’s own.  i am saying that the only way that an individual or a community can definitively know where they’re going is by first knowing themselves.  in my opinion, the road to knowing our truest and best selves insists on revolution, originality, and an open mind.  to me, the PAM awards 5th edition was a fine example of the onset a beautiful and revolutionary journey that lies before a continent full of brilliant artists and minds longing to be heard both at home and worldwide.  i was simply there to perform a bit and present some awards, but i am absolutely inspired and so thankful that i was able to bear witness to another chapter of the revolution.  i am so thankful that i was able to be home, musically and otherwise.  thanks for reading…. somi

 

Someone Gave Me A Fish Today

the frosty calm of baikal’s lake front wind kissed my cheeks and my whole being seemed to rise with the glory of the white morning sun against an even whiter snowy landscape. the cold didn’t seem to bother me as much as it usually does when I’m trudging through the february streets of manhattan. perhaps it was the knowing that it was temporary and in a few days i’d be frolicking in the tropical sunshine of my equatorial homeland. perhaps it was because i knew that i might never again find myself in siberia looking out at the world’s largest and deepest body of fresh water. they say that lake baikal actually makes up 25% of the earth’s clean water reserves. they say it’s so clean that you can actually drink straight from the lake, and that when it gets really cold the lake freezes over and it’s crystal clear. so what exactly is “really cold” in siberia?!! ‘cuz if today wasn’t it, i’m not sure i could hang. speaking of an african’s intolerance for the cold, i’d like to share the funny story that i shared with my family yesterday via email. so…. on our way our last show in irkutsk, i asked our driver (and fellow musician) ilya if there were any africans in irkutsk. upto that point, i hadn’t seen one. ilya said that out of the 500,000-strong population, there were about 10 africans now, but there was one very popular one named francois from mali. (actually all of them are pretty much from mali. probably his relatives who have slowly come over after he was settled. i know some of you know what i’m talking about.) anyway, okay how did he become so popular? apparently he’s the local weather guy!! i laughed so hard when i heard this because i kept thinking what does an african have to say about this weather besides… “it’s very cold…again!” we laughed and laughed, and the driver actually confirmed that when francois says it’s freezing outside sometimes the local siberians think it’s pretty warm. lol!! anyway, i hope you are as tickled by that story as i was. i’ve had a beautiful time in irkutsk, and i’m humbled by the fact that music has allowed me to see more parts of the world than i ever would have dreamed of. as we said our goodbyes just before our 6-hour flight back to moscow, a new friend named edik gave me a couple boxes of siberian-made chocolate and a smoked pair of lake baikal’s famous omul white fish. and while i’ve only recently graduated from a 13-year strict vegetarian diet to that of a seldom-but-always-picky pescarian, i definitely plan on savoring the fishy taste of my beautiful siberian memories over a cozy dinner with my sister in kigali next week. dasvidanya… somi

 

And I Will Carry These Days for all of My Life

hello from irkutsk, siberia! i still can’t quite wrap my head about the fact that i’m performing in the middle of the siberian tundra! while the cold weather is frightful and everything man made here seems either florescent or grey, it’s truly a beautiful place. we are not too far from lake baikal and the views on the way out to more rural parts are absolutely breathtaking. indeed, i will carry these days for all of my life. the picture above is actually not from my trip out here, but from my last new york performances with the magnificent israeli artist idan raichel. it was a beautiful acoustic series of shows that featured vocalists cabra casey from ethiopia and marta gomez from columbia, the young percussion master itamar doari, the trumpeter avishai cohen and myself. i put this picture here not only because i failed to blog about it shortly after the shows finished, but because of the perspective that my last conversation with idan gave me. he told me about the late great israeli singer shoshana damari and he sang one of her most celebrated songs as an encore on the night of our last show. he shared the meaning of the last phrase of the song with me – “and i will carry these days for all of my life.” when sharing with me, idan said those words once sung by an 83 year old diva should remind us that all of the days we have in our respective musical and spiritual journeys should and will remain with us when we too are looking back our lives years from now. so, last night as i sang with all of my heart for my first siberian audience, i remembered her and his words. and i remembered to be present. present in the knowing that i will look back on these days and give thanks for the wonderful blessing of song and the universal language of music. more soon and thanks for reading… somi

 

The Voice of the Sahara

i don’t think i’ve seen or heard anything more beautiful than the sahara desert. after my last shows in casablanca, i decided to do a trekking expedition from the magical city of marrakech down to the southern town of merzouga (morocco’s entry point into the sahara desert). the entire trip was really hot and dry since i was far from the atlantic ocean breeze i’d become used to in casa, but the beauty of the trip was astounding. i saw so much of morocco in those three days – from the cool springs in the valleys of the atlas mountains and dades gorges to an intimate lesson in berber rug weaving and hospitality. but hands down the most moving experience was setting foot on the sand dunes of the sahara. can you imagine a place so completely serene that you can say something just above a whisper and someone standing maybe 1000 yards (or more) away from you can hear every word? i was so amazed at the sound (or lack of sound) in the desert. i kept trying to hear it’s voice. is it the sound of the occasional wind or is it the absolute stillness of everything? as i continued along the guided path to where i would spend one night under the glorious light of the saharan moon, my ears were flooded with an arresting cacophony of excited tourist mutterings, a wind that sounded as massive and hollow as the underwater vibrations of an ocean, and the sandy slip of my camel’s hoof into the thin crest of each dune. with every unavoidable sound, i found myself wanting to hear no sound. wanting to hear what the spirit of the desert says when no one is around to listen or to watch. so as the desert night fell and things became still again, i was humbled. the experience has challenged me to question my own voice in this world. the sahara has challenged me to remember that my spirit should be just as powerfully resonant when my voice is silent as it is when my voice is raised. the sahara has reminded me that at any moment in our lives we can be still. we can be quiet and the vast plenitude of the universe shall answer.

 

The Road to Casablanca…

well my experience here has been really eye opening. my first time in north africa and while i expected a city, i mostly expected desert sands and ocean views. i certainly did not expect a sprawling mediterranean concrete jungle. casablanca has been nothing short of an amazing eyeopener. i’ve been working five nights a week at the new club called “The Jazz Club” (yes, very original, right? lol!), and my trip here has challenged me in many ways. i’ve been trying to post a journal entry on here for weeks now, but every time i began, i felt as though my words could hardly capture all of the emotions and thoughts i’ve been experiencing.  it’s a frightening moment when you realize you are unknowingly plagued by the force-fed prejudices of western media.  it’s even more frightening when you are walking around and realize that you are not seeing (or perhaps unable to look for) yourself in those who occupy the immediate world around you.  and its even more frightening to think that you’ve found yourself in the face of a stranger only to realize that they definitely do not see themselves in you.  i’m standing in africa, and i found myself constantly asking – screaming, really – “WHERE ARE THE BLACK WOMEN??”  i think the reason i haven’t posted any of the thoughts i’ve regularly poured into the draft section of my blog is that if i actually did post what i’m truly feeling and thinking, it might make some feel uncomfortable.  thoughts about the the blurred lines between an islam of tolerance and an islam of “terror”.  the blurred line between africa and arabia.  the blurred line between african and arab.  the blurred line between black and arab.  the blurred line between dehumanized, sheltered female and respectable woman.  all of these questionable grey areas are inspiring me in ways i least expected, but inspiring me none the less.  i’m so thankful for the opportunity to see this side of africa, this side of the arab world, and this side of islam. the legacy of this country is so rich and vast, i look forward to many returns for many more stories. in the meantime, i’m simply trying to tell my story with the music. i’ve run out of cds to sell at the shows and unfortunately moroccans cannot buy music from online staples like itunes since there is no internationally acknowledged conversion rate for the local currency of dirhams. what’s up with that? can a brotha’ have an itune account? i’m planning a trip to marrakech and the atlas mountains in the coming days. i hope to have a juicier saharan tale for you soon… thanks for reading.  salaam.

 

april in paris

oui! oui! j’aime beaucoup paris durant les printemps!!! it was absolutely beautiful. i probably ate way too much cheese and pastries and things, but i loved every delicious moment of it! i have to thank yolaine constanin for setting up the show at la java and getting me so much press while i was over there. yolaine rocks! there’s just no other way to put it. okay, okay…. so i’m a bit late with my april post while we are deep into may, but better late than never, right? check out this fabulous clip on TV5 Monde… you’ll see me doing an interview, as well as some footage from soundcheck (why??!!) and the actual performance. besides all the great press, i heard some amazing artists over there, including Franck Biyong & Sandra Nkake. so fabulous to hear and see other transnational african artists out there doing there thing! franck’s project is currently a fela tribute, but totally original and is a hauntingly beautiful sweep of music, spoken word, song and oration written in commemoration of the end of slavery. (how weird is it that they have a day in france that celebrates the end of slavery in the west, but that i’ve never heard of such a day in the states?) secondly, sandra was one of the voices featured in franck’s project, but she’s also got her own thing going on too. two words: beauty and power. she killed it that night. please check her out if you can. so… besides an occasional stroll into the musical night, i was mostly busy with promotional schmoozing and tings. one of the main highlights of my trip was being able to see my long-lost cousin who disappeared in french guyana as a little girl, but whom i was able to find (with the help of the press) during my performance there last october. she is now 22 years old and lives in bordeaux and flew up to paris for my show. finding her is probably one of the most powerfully reaffirming things that i have done in my life and with my music. overall, i would say i had a fabulous time and i’m looking forward to going back in october. in the meantime, i should probably hit the gym to make up for my guilty parisian pleasures. au revoir et gros bisous… somi

 

releasing with open skies and gratitude

wow!! where can i possibly begin when i think about the success of the cd release week’s events? to those who sent emails, to those who sent flowers, to those who braved the cold, to those who popped in during their lunch break, to those who tried to but couldn’t get in, to those who bought a cd, to those who bought more cds, to those who offered a congratulatory hug, to those who prayed, to those who smiled from the crowd, to those who helped me behind-the-scenes, to those who made music with me, to those of you who were, are, and will continue to be with me in this journey with red soil in my eyes and beyond… i thank you. now and always, somi

 

album in stores today….

wow… so i cannot tell you how moved i am by all of the people (family, friends, and strangers) who have supported me throughout the journey towards, the making of, and the release of “red soil in my eyes”! it’s in stores today, and i couldn’t be happier about it. it felt like such a long time coming that when people were asking me if i was “excited” about the release, i honestly wasn’t really sure anymore. it almost felt like it was just time. last night, i began to think more about it and realized that everything happens exactly when it is supposed to happen. we cannot rush our destiny. i am so incredibly happy, humbled, and excited. the outpouring of calls and emails has been really uplifting, and i’m so thankful to Harmonia Mundi/World Village for giving me the opportunity to share my music with the world! i’m also donating 10% of april album sales to the Rwanda Survivor’s Fund (www.survivors-fund.org.uk) as this month marks 13 years since the Rwanda genocide. please help me support their amazing initiatives and pick up the record (or two) now! i hope to see you in new york and on the road in the coming months. in the meantime, thank you , thank you, thank you now and always… somi