Afrofest in Toronto
September 18th 2008 03:22
It was in Toronto, but I felt I walked into a village in Africa that night, for the tents and tents of crafts they were selling: masks, carvings, textiles, which look genuinely raw and attractive, but most importantly for the drums. If you had heard African drums, you know what I mean—it’s not about a musical instrument, or rhythm, or performance, or audio impact… it’s a way of speaking, dialoguing, and a way of life: the drummers talk to each other and the audience with the sounds they are making with their hands, and nothing on earth can withhold the sun like life, heat, and passion in those sounds.
In fact it was in a tent that was selling drums, with rows of them big and small displayed in and outside the tent. A villager, I mean, an African/Canadian would pass by, sit down, collect a drum and gently start playing. He would go faster and faster and then slow down and speed up…another sat down and joined the music; the two listened to each other carefully and responded to each other, sometimes taking turns to produce phrases. A couple of kids found their places around and rolled up some smaller drums, and joined in with their small hands but keeping up with the rhythm. A toddler with kinky hair wandered in and banged a drum with her tiny spread fingers. An Asian looking couple stopped on their way and began following on two drums at the back of the rows; their hands looked deft and trained but somehow theirs was a light dancing rather than an eruption of passion and power. The night went on and so did the drums, and people came and went, stayed and passed on the festive ground.
And that was one of my first impressions of Toronto: A city that can hold among other things a happy African village. It takes a city like Toronto to do that…
In fact it was in a tent that was selling drums, with rows of them big and small displayed in and outside the tent. A villager, I mean, an African/Canadian would pass by, sit down, collect a drum and gently start playing. He would go faster and faster and then slow down and speed up…another sat down and joined the music; the two listened to each other carefully and responded to each other, sometimes taking turns to produce phrases. A couple of kids found their places around and rolled up some smaller drums, and joined in with their small hands but keeping up with the rhythm. A toddler with kinky hair wandered in and banged a drum with her tiny spread fingers. An Asian looking couple stopped on their way and began following on two drums at the back of the rows; their hands looked deft and trained but somehow theirs was a light dancing rather than an eruption of passion and power. The night went on and so did the drums, and people came and went, stayed and passed on the festive ground.
And that was one of my first impressions of Toronto: A city that can hold among other things a happy African village. It takes a city like Toronto to do that…
| 30 |
| Vote |
Subscribe to this blog
