LEARNING CULTURE THROUGH A MUSICAL PRACTICE WITH MANDING JALIS IN NEW YORK A Dissertation Presented to the Faculty of the Graduate School of Cornell University In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy by Lisa Karen Feder May 2007 © 2007 Lisa Karen Feder LEARNING CULTURE THROUGH A MUSICAL PRACTICE WITH MANDING JALIS IN NEW YORK Lisa Karen Feder, Ph.D. Cornell University 2007 This study depicts the music and culture of Manding jalis in New York through the perspective of non-African New Yorkers who interact with them. The non-Africans, the author included, move through the cross-cultural learning process as they attend live jali musical performances and learn to play and perform this music themselves. Jali refers to a person born into a particular caste and specific family lineage in the Manding region of West Africa. In Western literature, jalis are described as musicians, singers, oral-historians, advisers, diplomats, ceremony participants, teachers, and bards, among other things (Hale 1998; Charry 2000; Hoffman 2000). This dissertation depicts jalis who play the balafon, the kora, and the guitar in New York. Up to date, there is almost no literature on the topic. The author applies Gregory Bateson’s notion of cultural “ethos,” construed as schismogenic balances of tension and resolution, to both musical and non-musical social aspects of culture (Bateson 1972). Meter and rhythm create tensions and resolutions in people’s minds and bodies, giving them a common frame of reference. Simultaneously, participation in music exposes our cultural proclivities. This makes it an ideal place to begin the cross-cultural learning process. From the live music scenes, we then explore how music students learn to produce cross-rhythms and looping layered melodies as well as more subtle nuances in “feeling,” or groove. Students learn how to learn, think, and play the music according to the Manding jali’s perspective. We apply these musical lessons as we become increasingly involved in the culture, at large. This study uses an alternative methodology of a reflective practice (Schön 1987) in which the author is the primary participant. She moves from a music student, an organizer of balafon workshops to a friend, a patron, an agent, a marraine, and ultimately, a jatigi in jali society. The analysis is interlaced with antidotes of interpersonal experiences between Manding jalis, the author, and other participants. In conclusion we see how non-Manding and Manding music and culture cross- influence one another as they interrelate in the multi-cultural music scene in New York. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH Lisa Feder was born in Manhattan and raised northern New Jersey. She received her Bachelor of Arts from Lafayette College where she majored in International Affairs and French. In high school and in college she studied abroad in Strasbourg, France. After receiving her B.A., Feder worked as an English teacher in the public school system in Costa Rica and in the study abroad industry in New York and Sâo Paulo, Brazil, after which she returned to the university to carry out graduate work. In 2000 she completed a Master of Arts at the University of Chicago in Social Sciences where she spent time with and wrote a thesis on the Kayapo indigenous group in Pará, Brazil. At Cornell University her interests spanned both cross-cultural environmental issues in indigenous areas and music of West Africa and the African Diaspora. During her time at Cornell, Lisa carried out preliminary research on music in both Salvador, Brazil and The Gambia, West Africa before deciding to write her dissertation on non-Africans learning West African music and culture. In the United States, Lisa continues to take part in the West African music scene in New York, and continues to work in Brazil and West Africa. Aside from her musical interests, Lisa is a certified yoga instructor. The influence of her yoga practice is subtly inferred through the pages of this dissertation. iii For Gray Parrot, N’fama Ousman Jobarteh. iv ACKNOWLEDGMENTS First and foremost I would like to thank Gray Parrot and Steve Pond of the Music Department, both of whom have poured generous amounts of their time into this work. They have contributed ideas and offered me guidance from the start to the completion of this dissertation, and I am grateful for their dedication and continual support. All deficiencies, errors and distortions in this work are strictly my own. I am indebted to Davydd Greenwood for serving as my Chair of Committee when he already had both hands full, and for patiently leading me to the scholars who I found to be meaningful. His own work in the field of anthropology was and will continue to be an inspiration to me. If it were not for Marty Hatch, who approached me while I was playing a djembe in the Ithaca Festival many years ago, I would never have bridged anthropology and ethnomusicology at Cornell. My mentor and friend, Marko Zivkovic from the University of Chicago remains in my heart. My Manding jali teachers and friends in New York, particularly Famoro Dioubate and Missia Saran Diabate, as well as Mamadi “Gely K” Kouyate, Abou Sylla and Mamadou Diabate, have shared their music, their culture and their lives with me over the past two years. In the Gambia, Bakary and the Kanyi family, Seikou Jobarteh and Kebba Manneh have made West Africa more like a home for me. May this work be only the beginning in serving to bridge the cultural and economic gaps between West Africa and the United States. Particular friends and colleagues have giving me invaluable moral and intellectual support in many ways. Nicholas Hansen, Christine Covert, Noa Vaisman, Doreen Lee, Raymond Eldridge III, Z. Adam Piascezny, and Nidya Mendez Madrigal. Grazie mille to Kathy Massamini for many, many hours of work in editing this paper. I also thank my friends and West African music buddies, particularly Sharon and Amy Beltaine, Gale McCullough and Steve Callahan, Mike Bennett, Andy Algire, Sue, v Barbara and Shilo, all with whom I have spent many hours in their homes, playing and analyzing music. And of course, I could not have done it without the love and support from my mom, dad and two sisters, particularly Stacey who supported me to do my best since kindergarten. vi TABLE OF CONTENTS Prologue: Huit Americain 1 Chapter 1: Introductions 5 Interlude 2: Jalis in New York 37 Chapter 2: Perceptions of Manding Music—A Live Approach 41 Interlude 3: Kakande Plays Zebulon 72 Chapter 3: Participation in Manding Music-Creating Meaning 74 Interlude 4: The Airport Story 100 Chapter 4: The Balafon Workshops 106 Interlude 5: Balafons From Guinea 166 Chapter 5: Observations of Manding Action 170 Interlude 6: Fula Flute Ensemble 213 Chapter 6: The Making of a Jatigi 215 Interlude 7:Across the Atlantic 256 Chapter 7: Conclusion--Lesson from the Field 258 Bibliography 285 Discography 290 vii LIST OF FIGURES Figure 1: “Soli” pattern one version one 113 Figure 2: “Soli pattern two version two 119 Figure 3: “Soli” pattern two 123 Figure 4: “Soli” pattern two with lead-in 124 Figure 5: Tambourim pattern in samba 153 Figure 6: “Soli” pattern three 156 viii Prologue: Huit Americain Four people and two Manding balafons cruise at a comfortable 65 mph down the NJ Turnpike in a Honda Civic. In the back seats two Manding jalis, Famoro and Missia, both from Guinea Conakry chat quietly in Malinké. In the front, I chat with Doug, our driver, in English. Djelimady Tonkoura and Super Rail Band serenade us on the cassette player. Doug and I picked up Famoro and Missia from deep in the heart of Brooklyn this morning. We are heading toward Virginia, just outside of Washington D.C. where we will perform tonight in a griot concert headlined by Fodé Kouyate. An hour or so into the journey, I pull a deck of cards out of my knapsack and slap them onto the middle console. Famoro picks them up, shuffles them a few moments, and deals them out without looking up, without saying a word. For the duration of the game, no words will be necessary except one: Carte. Famoro deals five cards to each of us, save Doug, who must follow the road. I do not know for how long Guineans and Americans have been playing Huit Americain. I do not know if one culture taught it to the other, or if it evolved between them over time. All I know is that ever since I started to hang out with the Guinean- American music crowd in the United States, this has been a favorite pastime, when we have tired of the balafon. Huit Americain, (pronounced wheat American) is like Uno and Crazy 8’s. The player who finishes by placing an 8 as his last card gets a bonus point. The person who is left with an 8 in hand loses a point. Famoro deals out the cards and we use the middle console as the deck holder. Round and round we go, Lisa, Missia, Famoro, Lisa, Missia, Famoro. Famoro partakes in strange practices. Each time his turn comes around, he picks up card after card when I am sure he must have something to throw down. He loads his hand up pretty well before he begins to discard. My hand is slowly dwindling down. I use my 8 once to demand a new suit. Of little 1 consequence, the suit goes where it wants to after the demand is met. I yell my first “carte!” Missia goes, and Famoro drops a 2, “draw two.” Missia goes again, and Famoro charges me with another 2.