People
of Word, Song, and Money:
The Evolution=
of
Senegalese Griots and Their Art
By
Joseph B. Hil=
l
Submitted
to
Defended on <=
/span>
People of Word, Song, and Mo=
ney:=
Chapter
1: Griots and Traditional Senegalese Caste Structure
Chapter
2: Griots in Traditional Society.
Chapter
3: The Modern Retrospective Image of Traditional Griots
Chapter
4: Griotism and the Modern World.
Chapter
5: The New Art of Griots
Griots in "Folklore" Performing Arts
The
"Great Griots" and their Successors.
Foreword
W=
hen
studying the West African performing arts and literature, perhaps the first
concept one should understand is the role of griots1 in traditional and modern society.
Surprisingly, although the griot* caste is almost solely resp=
onsible
for inventing and preserving the traditional artistic culture of Senegal,
relatively few scholarly documents have attempted to describe in detail the
life and art of griots. Thus, when I began to grasp the importance of griots
while at the same time exhausting all the library materials on the subject,=
I
realized that I would need to go to
T=
his paper
is the result of a field study I conducted from January to June 1998 in Sen=
egal
and other parts of West Africa, where I learned about this unique caste thr=
ough
living with griots, befriending them, becoming exasperated with some of the=
m,
and even attempting to become one of them. As one might expect, despite
learning to play three griot musical instruments and being adopted into a
prominent griot family, I had some difficulty in this last area, considerin=
g my
conspicuously foreign appearance and my attempts to remain a disinterested
observer. Besides, most Senegalese will agree that no non-griot can imitate=
the
unique rhythms, songs, and speech of the griot caste. However, I may have
partially succeeded when several people in my home Senegalese village, some=
of
them griots, coerced me into accepting a small sum of money for my
entertainment and when the Théâtre National Daniel Sorano
in Dakar invited me to play the role of a musical griot in their annual
historical play.
A=
s an
ignorant and apparently rich foreigner in
Introduction
O=
ne of the
most salient features of almost any great classical art form is its relianc=
e on
strong patronage. Phidias had Pericles; Vergil had Augustus; Michelangelo a=
nd
Botticelli had the Catholic Church; Haydn had Prince Esterházy. As
aristocratic patrons in many parts of the modern world have lost much of th=
eir
political and economic advantages, artists have turned to the public for
patronage; thus, popular forms of art have thrived. As in
T=
raditionally,
griots' most important functions centered on the arts of speaking. Roderic
Knight, speaking of the music of Mandinka griots, reminds us that although
griots play complex instrumental parts, the vocal aspect of griots' art
"holds more interest for the African listener" ("Style"=
5).
The only monograph to my knowledge devoted to griots bears the title Peo=
ple
of the Word (Gens de la parole). Sory Camara's title seeks to
underscore the centrality of the word to both the unique importance and the
unique stigma of traditional griots. Likewise, Camara Laye's retelling of t=
he
epic of Sunjata, the founder of the Mali Empire, is called Master of the
Word (Maître de la parole). Griots' supernatural facility =
with
words makes them indispensable at all important social functions. Their nea=
rly
unlimited verbal license gives griots not only a unique power to influence =
and
exploit, but also a deep-rooted stigma. Words in West Sudanic societ=
ies
are seen as idle, dangerous, and impure; proverbs that mention words, the
mouth, and the tongue almost always do so pejoratively (S. Camara 248). The=
se
characteristics of words are often imputed to griots, w=
ho
are most closely associated with words. Thus, while the services of griots =
are
indispensable to every important Senegalese social function, griots themsel=
ves
are marginalized and are often even considered subhuman.
I=
n modern
B=
ecause of
great changes in Senegalese society, the setting in which griots earned the=
ir
living as historians, messengers, and spokespeople no longer prevails. Grio=
ts
have responded to these changes by transforming their secondary function as
musicians, dancers, comedians, and overall entertainers into their primary
means of sustenance. Through adaptation to current needs, griots as a social
and professional class have retained their importance. In addition, many gr=
iots
still act as modern "people of the word" through radio, televisio=
n,
and public speaking. This paper argues that even though much of the traditi=
onal
framework under which griotism developed has disappeared, all the basic
elements of griotism-praise, song, patronage, and social separation-are sti=
ll
strong in
I=
n order
clearly to see how these elements endure in modern
I=
soon
realized that even if these fabled traditions had never existed in their id=
eal
forms, the idea of these traditions was more important now than it had ever
been in the past. Recent changes were erasing much of the Senegalese identi=
ty,
and the Senegalese's only recourse was to turn back to their traditions to
define themselves today. The Senegalese viewed the traditional context as t=
he
authentic Senegalese context, even if this context was far removed from the=
ir
experience. For many Senegalese, griots who live in the modern world do not
qualify as true griots in the same way as the griots about whom
they have heard legends. Hence the common saying among traditionally-minded
West African scholars and artists: "There are no more griots."
T=
hus, I
will explore in some depth the caste structure of traditional Senegalese
society and will then turn to a discussion of the role of griots within this
traditional society. Although parts of my discussion, especially the section
describing academic and popular uses of caste terminology, are somewhat
theoretical and technical, most of it, especially the sections on the role =
and
status of the griot, is meant to convey the meaning of the griot as the
Senegalese understand it. It is only against this background of folk knowle=
dge
that we can understand in what ways griots have retained or lost their
traditional roles.
A=
fter
laying this foundational understanding of traditional society and of griots
within this society, I will trace the history of griotism through several
significant changes that have challenged the griot's existence and prompted
some Senegalese to contend that griots no longer exist. Those who argue this
point are correct in arguing that changes in the social, economic, and
political systems have largely eliminated the traditional basis of griotism.
However, at the same time these changes have created new uses for griots in
modern society and politics. In the same chapter we will see how modern
education has also posed significant challenges to griotism, although the
failure of modern education in many areas has contributed to continued caste
differences.
|
|
|
Fig. 1. |
![3D"Fig.](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image001.gif")
I=
n modern
Chapter
1: Griots and Traditional Senegalese Caste Structure
M=
ost
Sedentary Western Sudanic societies, including most Senegalese groups, shar=
e a
similar tripartite caste structure. This analysis of traditional Senegalese
society will describe primarily Wolof* and Mande social structures,
although similar structures apply to Sereer, Lebu, Tukulóor*, and, to a lesser extent,
Senegalese Fulbe and Moorish societies. Of all the groups with which I
associated in
E=
ach of
these societies contains three main social strata: landowning nobles (Wolof=
: géer2 *, Mande: hór&oacut=
e;),
artisans and courtiers (Wolof: ñeeño*, Mande: ñà=
màkálá),
and slaves (Wolof: jaam, Mande: jôn). The standard
designation of the first group as nobles may seem a bit misleading, since t=
his
group includes even the most impoverished peasants. Yet even though the
economic condition of many nobles is lower than that of many members of the
other two categories, their status is invariably higher in certain respects=
. As
food producers, nobles are seen as the primary source of livelihood, and all
others depend on them for sustenance. In return, nobles depend on artisans =
and
courtiers for practical objects and services. Much more than mere possessio=
n of
material wealth, it is the quantity and quality of ñeeño* surrounding a noble that de=
termines
status. A wealthy Senegalese noble who wants to impress her or his peers wi=
ll
make a spectacular gift to a ñeeño rather than flaunt a
personal possession.
T=
he ñeeño
group includes the professions of smiths (tëgg*), leatherworkers (uude),
woodcutters (seeñ), cloth weavers (ràbb*), griots* (géwël*), and jester-servants (&=
ntilde;oole).
Sociologists describe ñeeño variously as a caste, a gr=
oup
of castes, or simply as endogamous professional circles. Sory Camara descri=
bes
all Malinke* ñàm&=
agrave;kálá as belonging to one large caste divided into several professi=
ons.
Abdoulaye-Bara Diop divides the ñeeño into two main
castes: jëf-lekk, or those who live by deeds, and sab-lekk,
or those who live chattering. Artisans constitute the jëf-lekk
caste while griots and jester-servants, who used to be separate castes,
constitute the sab-lekk caste (Diop 33-34). Traditionally, below the=
ñeeño
were slaves, who were generally war captives and their descendents.
In
traditional Senegalese society, the géer were patrons while t=
he ñeeño
were clients. Inter-caste relations relied on mutual gift-giving rather tha=
n on
barter. Services rendered by ñeeño and goods provided =
in
return by géer had no monetary price, and to call the exchange
"sale" was an insult. This terminology was not simply a formality:
treating routine exchange as gift-giving and not as commercial trade had
significant practical implications. Not all goods are always available in <=
/span>
R=
efraining
from demanding immediate payment for one's gifts or services may be benefic=
ial
in the long run because giving what little one may possess now entitles the
giver to ask for much more of someone else who experiences a windfall. Paym=
ent
implies a one-time, closed transaction, while gift-giving implies ongoing
reciprocal relationships. We might compare inter-caste gift-giving in
T=
he
endogamous nature of the Senegalese social system implied that a ñ=
;eeño
possessing a certain clan name could be assumed to belong to a specific cas=
te.
Today, we can sometimes identify with a certain degree of confidence someon=
e's
caste through their last name. Wolof* griot names include Mbaye, =
Mboup,
Seck, Thiam (griot or smith), Niang, Ngom, and Samb. Mandinka griot names
include Diabaté, Konté, Kouyaté, Konaté, and
Socé. Malinké and Bamana* griot names include Cissoko,
Koïta, Kouyaté, Sakho, Diabaté. Serer griots have many of
the same names that Wolof griots have. Sometimes two clans in separate cast=
es
share a name, as is the case with the noble clan Sissoko and the griot clan
Cissoko, which are pronounced the same but often spelled differently to
distinguish caste and clan. Moreover, sometimes different names can signify=
the
same clan in different areas, as is the case of the Mandinka Socé and
the Bamana Cissoko, and the Mandinka Kouyaté and the Bamana Koï=
ta.
Although most people with griot names can be positively identified as griot=
s,
many people with noble names, such as Ndiaye, Guèye, and Faye, actua=
lly
belong to other castes, because a ñeeño or jaam=
* family closely attached to =
a noble
family often took the noble family's name. Thus, most of the griots with
B=
efore
proceeding with our discussion of griots as a caste, we should understand t=
hat
neither scholars nor the Senegalese people have come to a consensus on the
basic caste divisions or even on the use of the word caste to descri=
be
Senegalese social structure. The word caste was introduced by Europe=
an
outsiders and is now widely used by the Senegalese, but the Senegalese
themselves have no clearly defined concept of caste. One person may claim
several different caste identities-xalamkat, gawlo*, géwël*, ñeeño=
-depending
on the situation. Archaeologist Hamadi Bocoum rejects the term
"caste" altogether, arguing that the term was developed for Indian
sociology and does not describe the situation in
P=
ublic
opinion in
E=
ven though
exogamy is not rare among artisan castes, I will follow the most common
Senegalese convention, which is to refer to each professional division as a
caste. Even though these groups do not strictly follow the three criteria t=
hat
Diop ascribes to castes (professional specialization, heredity, and endogam=
y),
most ñeeño* usually identify themselves=
as tëgg,
uude, or géwël* and not as sab-lekk =
and jëf-lekk.
Still, it must be recognized that I use the term caste because of
convention and because of its importance in defining identity. It would be
impossible to establish a scientific definition of the Senegalese concept of
caste or of any particular Senegalese caste due to the fluidity of social
classifications.
M=
any
traditional castes in Wolof* society have disappeared and many more h=
ave
appeared in recent years, and the lines between them are sometimes unclear.
Woodcutters (seeñ) and cloth weavers (ràbb*) no longer exist as castes.=
The
Fulbe-speaking Lawbe*, who form a caste, professi=
on, and
ethnicity, have eclipsed the seeñ so much that the common Wol=
of
word for "woodcutter" today is lawbe; I have only come acr=
oss
the word seeñ in academic writing. As for the ràbb<=
/i>,
most cloth today is produced industrially or, more rarely, is woven by form=
er
slaves or by maabo*, a Wolofized Tukulóo=
r* caste (Diop 56). The maa=
bo
can also act as griots, and in the Jolof region where I lived, maabo
usually referred to a tama* (talking drum) player. For =
unclear
reasons, the designation ràbb today designates not a weaver b=
ut a
"converted griot" who has given up the unholy practices of grioti=
sm for
Islam (Diop 56). The condition of slavery is now officially illegal, althou=
gh
most Senegalese still see "slaves" (jaam) as a caste statu=
s.
"Slave" remains one of the most potent insults on someone's chara=
cter
and is also commonly used when joking with friends. Additionally, some rece=
nt
scholars have noted the continued practice of slavery. Matt Schaffer, who t=
ells
of a Mandinka slave man who in 1966 had to buy himself from his master in o=
rder
to get married (Schaffer 62). The Wolof often classify<=
/span>
neighboring ethnic groups as slaves, possibly because these groups were onc=
e a
source of slaves. Ñoole have largely either disappeared, being
assimilated into other castes, especially into the géwël=
*, while several non-g&eac=
ute;wël
groups now fulfill the functions of the griots and are often considered to =
be
separate castes. For example, in the Jolof region, an additional griot cast=
e,
the gawlo*, participate in Wolof socie=
ty as
praise singers.
L=
ike the maabo,
the Wolof gawlo are of Tukulóor* ancestry, but they are Wolo=
fized
enough that most Wolof people I talked to were not aware of the gawlo's
foreign origin. When I suggested the possibility of foreign origin, people =
said
they would not be surprised, since the Wolof are=
all
assimilated from other groups. Myths of Wolof origin do not describe an act=
of
creation but rather an assimilation of Tukulóor, Sereer, and Mande
settlers. The Jolof-Jolof 3 define a g=
awlo
as a melodic musician who sings or plays the xalam*. They contrast this to the =
géwël,
who (in the Jolof and some other regions) generally play the drums-sabar=
* and tama* and yell non-melodically in=
a style
that people sometimes compare to hard rap. Géwël in these
areas rarely perform melodic music. Many consider these groups to be differ=
ent
castes, although I will treat them as part of the same griot caste because =
they
often marry géwël and perform the same social functions.=
In
certain respects, however, the Jolof-Jolof see
a vast difference between the two. For example, as I tried to teach a young=
géwël
boy to play a song on the xalam (5-string lute), the boy's friend
approached, laughing, and said that no matter how many years I tried to tea=
ch
my friend to play, he would never learn. He was a géwël =
not
a gawlo, and therefore had no melodic ability in his blood. Nonethel=
ess,
both boys were proficient drummers.
I=
n addition
to the borrowed gawlo caste, some Wolof* areas in
T=
he members
of each ethnic group residing in each area of
L=
ike the
terminology used to delineate castes, the hierarchy of castes is less clear=
-cut
in practice than some theories would have us believe. I have already hinted
that Hamadi Bocoum rejects the idea of a static and unambiguous social
hierarchy in Sudanic societies. Diop, however, basing his argument mostly on
inter-caste marriage patterns, describes a distinct hierarchy within the
A=
lthough
many scholars tend to assume a definite ladder on which all castes stand in
vertical relation to each other, in practice, most Senegalese have never tr=
ied
to work out a theoretical hierarchy of castes. They are aware that different
castes perform different kinds of work and that some castes and their work =
are
less prestigious than others, but most are not aware of any official order.=
In
addition, the blurring of ethnic differences may add to the confusion, since
not all traditional societies have the same hierarchy. For example, whereas=
the
Wolof smith has the highest ñeeño* status, the place of the
Tukulóor* smith is at the bottom of t=
he
artisans, next to the griot (Johnson 4).
|
|
Caste |
Sub-castes
|
Function
|
Modern
|
||||
|
|
Géer
|
|
Nobles, |
Still
existent
Ñeeño |
Jëf-lekk
|
|
Artisans |
|
|
Géwël (sab-lekk) |
|
Griots |
Still
existent
Ñoole
|
|
Servants,
jesters |
Rare,
only as sub-group of géwël |
||
|
|
Jaam |
|
Slaves |
Condition
outlawed, still a status group |
||||
| Table
1. |
W=
hen questioned,
most Wolof and other Senegalese I interviewed did not produce the same
hierarchy that Diop describes. Although I never talked to anyone who placed=
any
other caste above the géer in status, most informants placed
griots at the bottom of the ñeeño* or sometimes even below sla=
ves,
while a few placed griots second only to royalty, citing their prominence in
kingly courts. The paradoxical status of griots is a complex matter that we
will examine in greater depth in the next chapter.
Chapter
2: Griots in Traditional Society
G=
riots
occupied an important, albeit greatly stigmatized, place in this hierarchy.=
I
will first describe the ambivalent status of griots* in traditional society and =
then
will describe the roles of traditional griots. We will then examine some of=
the
elements of griots' traditional musical art, many of which still inform var=
ious
forms of music today.
Griots' status
D=
epending
on whom one asks, griots are either at the top or the bottom of the &nti=
lde;eeño* group. Several of my inform=
ants
adopted both of these views, dividing griots into two opposite groups: royal
griots and slave griots, which occupy the top and bottom respectively of
N=
umerous
signs indicate that pre-colonial society treated griots as inferior and imp=
ure
outsiders. In many times and places, griots were forced to live outside the
village and were thought to bring great disaster on any village that allowed
them to live or be interred within its bounds. They were buried in the holl=
ow
trunks of baobab trees, for the géer's* earth was too sacred to hol=
d them
(S. Camara 9, Diop 38). One such baobab, formerly used by Sereer on the Pet=
ite
Côte, is now a well known tourist attraction. Countering griots' oral
histories, which glowingly describe pre-colonial griots as second only to t=
he
king, are the observations of foreign travelers, the only non-griot witness=
es
of the time that we have today. Like many European witnesses, sixteenth-cen=
tury
traveler V. Fernandes believed that griots were actually Jews because of th=
eir
outcast state, mentioning specifically their location in separate villages =
and
their degrading forms of burial (Fernandes, qtd. in Diop 38). Some travelers
observed that even slaves refused to marry griots and artisans (Mollien, qt=
d.
in Diop 39).
G=
riots'
duties and ways of making a living partially account for their stigma. Beca=
use
of certain activities in which griots participated, many géer
considered them to be not only impure but also less than human and, the male
griots, less than men. Male géer believed contact with females
and feminine elements to be destructive to their manhood. Sexual abstinence
before battle was thought to make a man more resistant to the enemy's weapo=
ns
(S. Camara 97), and even today, men generally eat separately from women and
small children and minimize contact with them. Singing and dancing were both
considered effeminate activities, and only griots and occasionally female
nobles could take part in either of these activities. Griots and other &=
ntilde;eeño
performed the essential but polluting tasks of circumcision, excision, fune=
ral
preparations, hair cutting and dressing, and midwifery. These tasks made
association with griots or with anything associated with griots a repulsive=
and
potentially dangerous encounter.
S=
ome observers
have described the "social pollution" one could contract by touch=
ing
clothing, eating utensils, or chairs previously touched by griots (Johnson =
6).
I talked to many people in
As
flattering as oral history is to its griot authors, it repeatedly confirms =
the
status of griots and their words as inferior to and secondary to the action=
s of
nobles. Legends and myths propose diverse origins of griots, usually explai=
ning
inferiority by virtue of an original cowardly, impotent, or evil act contra=
sted
with a courageous or benevolent act on the part of the géer. =
In
these stories, the original griot thereby learns his inferiority and vows to
praise the géer's actions. In one such Fulbe legend, two brot=
hers
who constantly argue about who is the elder are sent by their father to fin=
d a
lost cow, for whoever finds it first will be the elder. On the way back, one
brother nearly dies of hunger, and the other secretly cuts off a piece of h=
is
own flesh and feeds his brother to save his life. When the recipient learns=
of
his brother's act, he proclaims, "From now on, I consider myself as yo=
ur
servant-I will go everywhere praising you and telling of your exploits: I w=
ill
be your maabo*" (qtd. in S. Camara 15=
3).
According to another more recent legend, Sourakouta, the father of all grio=
ts,
was cursed by the Prophet Muhammad for wounding the Prophet and drinking his
blood (S. Camara 154-55). This last myth, clearly originating long after the
pre-Islamic origin of griots, shows an attempt to establish the caste syste=
m as
a dogma of Islam, which in reality is explicitly against any class
distinctions.
S=
ome
legends told by griots show the incapability of griots to fight in battle or
otherwise to act noble. In the epic of Sunjata, the two brothers Moké
Moussa and Moké Dantouman, who are to fight the formidable Buffalo of
Do, show another griot origin. The frightened
Moké Moussa climbs a tree to escape the fight while his brother,
Moké Dantouman, performs a series of miraculous feats and eventually
slays the buffalo. The amazed Moussa sings a beautiful song about his broth=
er's
courage and strength (Camara Laye 50-54). Dantouman exclaims, "If brot=
her
were a griot, no one could resist him"-"Kôrô
tum-bâ-ké Djéli di a Dian-ba-té" (Camar=
a Laye
55). Hence, the griot clan "Diabaté," =
still
one of the largest griot clans in Mande. This story explains that
griots' inferiority and impotence justifies their subjugation and
marginalization. Later in the same epic, a royal griot is shown walking beh=
ind
the king and imitating the king's walk, but his walk appears to be "an
impious counterfeit of the royal gait" (Camara Laye 56). Like any raci=
ally
ideological explanation, this story attempts to demonstrate the inherent
incapability of one class to behave like another.
I=
t seems
especially paradoxical that griots themselves should be the primary means of
propagating these myths. Ironically, telling stories that demean griots is
often to a griot's immediate advantage, for what makes a griot valuable to a
noble is not a superior human being but a loyal and humble servant. Griots =
are
well known for extolling their own abilities as individuals and as a caste.=
Yet
griots have learned that when praising a noble, they stand to gain improve
their gains dramatically through using personal inferiority as a foil to th=
eir
patrons' greatness.
F=
or
example, at a traditional naming ceremony for a child, I once asked a man of
griot caste if griots were considered equal to géer. I expect=
ed
an egalitarian response from this university-educated and modern-minded
professional. However, clearly seeing himself as distinct from griots as a
professional group, the man laughed and told me to listen to the main family
griot, who was busy making his praise-singing ro=
unds
to each guest. The man translated the griot's words: "He who gives is
greater than him who receives." If the griot himse=
lf
admits his inferiority, who can deny it? Yet this griot was telling =
the
official and profitable story and was not expressing his true feelings. Alt=
hough
such constant self-deprecation and humiliation can certainly contribute to =
some
form of inferiority complex, griots do not consciously accept their inferio=
rity
any more than customer service representatives actually believe that "=
the
customer is always right." Thus, although both ñeeño<=
/i>* and géer avow=
griots'
inferiority, griots only do so out of "good business" practice.
W=
hy have
griots been willing to accept such acute disrespect and marginalization? Ev=
en
though géer held political and economic power for several
centuries, they apparently used no mechanism of force to hold griots in the=
ir
subordinate position. In fact, griots held onto their position tenaciously =
and
possessed unique privileges and prestige. I have even heard of gé=
er
in recent years who decided to become griots for economic advantage. No =
ñeeño
was closer to royalty in pre-colonial times than griots, whose advice and
presence were essential to every political and social process. Yet we will =
see
that every privilege that griots enjoy directly affects their low status.
G=
riots
could do many things that nobles could not do lest they become the object of
unbearable social sanctions. First, griots could ask for gifts even when th=
ey
had done little and would often go to extreme measures to locate and obtain=
the
gift they wanted from their patrons. Nobles justly feared that if they did =
not
meet griots' demands, the griots would cease to assist them or, in the worst
case, actually say embarrassing things about them in public. While nobles w=
ere
expected always to give gifts to hosts of weddings or naming ceremonies, gr=
iots
could expect gifts from the hosts at these ceremonies, even when they had
contributed only a few token words to the event. Ñeeño=
* escape the rule that all gi=
fts must
be reciprocated.
I=
n addition
to the economic advantages, griots had the privilege of being exempt from m=
any
of the rules of conduct that bound other members of society. They could say=
and
do almost anything with impunity, whereas nobles had to guard their tongue
incessantly and could not speak out loudly or act impulsively. A noble would
never win forgiveness after repeating any of the extremely vulgar songs or
gestures of griots. Griots can "insult someone's mother or run naked d=
own
the street without serious consequences," according to Sidia Jatta (18=
).
Sory Camara relates that in his childhood village a noble boy, annoyed by a
little griot's vulgar insults, slapped the griot in the face. When the griot
boy's mother heard of the incident, she sang a loud stream of abuse in fron=
t of
the boy's house for the whole neighborhood to hear and refused to stop until
the boy's parents severely punished their son and gave the griot woman a
significant sum of money (131-32). Thus, griots are immune to harsh treatme=
nt
and can use such instances to their economic advantage.
A=
lthough
griots enjoyed unique privileges, these privileges were directly connected =
to
their low status. Even today, if any noble lowers him- or herself
to speak or act as griots are permitted to act, he or she is derisively lab=
eled
a griot. It is often said of griots that they can behave with impunity, but=
to
say so is to ignore that society has already automatically punished griots
through partially ostracizing them and assigning them a lower status. A nob=
le
who behaves like a griot faces the same social sanctions that a griot alrea=
dy
faces through a reduction, either temporary or permanent, in status. The
difference between social sanctions for géer and those for gr=
iots
is that griots' sanctions are automatic and cannot, therefore, be affected
either through noble or ignoble behavior. This is not to say that griots in
traditional society generally behaved ignobly, but rather that they could d=
o so
without a reduction in social prestige, although it was in their best inter=
ests
to guard their behavior to avoid losing patrons.
The roles of tradi=
tional
griots
D=
espite the
stigma attached to being a griot*, the work of griots is high=
ly
valued and essential to nearly every aspect of life in
G=
riots
assisted royalty and aristocracy in many different tasks. One of griots' mo=
st
visible functions was as a speaker for the king and other nobles. Each king=
had
a corps of griots responsible for communication with other officials and wi=
th
the public, and one main griot usually acted as a spokesman for the king. As
today, it was considered undignified for nobles to raise their voices to
address a gathering. Without a griot, this could present problems, for the =
host
of any gathering was always expected to greet and deliver an address to all
present. Instead of raising their voices, nobles whispered their message in=
to
the ear of their principle griot, who then embel=
lished
and relayed the message to the assembly. In the epic of Sunjata, in the gra=
nd
assembly after Sunjata becomes Emperor, his principal griot Balla
Fasséké acts as "grand master of ceremonies" and
delivers the new Emperor's address (Niane 134). When Su=
njata
speaks, only his griot can hear him, "for a Mansa [king] never speaks =
as a
public crier" (Niane 140).
I=
saw this
same practice whenever I attended a family's celebration. The griot, who co=
uld
be either a man or a woman, stood beside the host and other notable people
present and relayed their message to the public. Although the patrons spoke
softly and displayed a subdued demeanor, griots spoke loudly and emphatical=
ly,
gesticulating and elaborating on the patrons' words. The first time I saw t=
his,
I thought the griot was infuriated at someone (possibly at me, for I was
filming the occasion), but I soon learned that griots' adamant and energetic
mode of elocution was only a sign of sincerity and conviction. Such forceful
speeches are extremely moving and inspiring to Senegalese audiences. As spe=
aker
of the patron's family, a griot would also improvise his or her own speeche=
s,
relating the glorious people and events from the history of the patron's cl=
an.
Most importantly, the griot would then tell of the greatness of the patron,
explaining how he or she measures up to those who have gone before. At a jàng (a celebration commemorating a religi=
ous
event) marking the return of a Hadj from
E=
pics told
by griots commonly depict the griot as the principal counselor to the king.
Although only a small proportion of the griot caste would have been part of=
a
king's court, most people I talked to understood royal functions as being a=
mong
the most important roles of traditional griots. Again, Balla
Fasséké, the griot of Sunjata, provides the classic example. =
As
Sunjata's father is dying, he tells Sunjata:
In Manding, ea=
ch
prince has his griot: Doua's father was my father's griot; Doua was my grio=
t;
Doua's son, Balla Fasséké, will be your griot. From this day
forward, be inseparable friends. From his mouth =
you
will learn the history of your ancestors; you will learn the art of governi=
ng
the Manding according to the principles that our ancestors left behind. (Ni=
ane
39-40).
S=
unjata's
mother and griot teach him all he needs to know to be king (Niane 49). When
Sunjata grows to become king, his griot is his principle counselor and
companion. The storyteller explains, "Griots know the history of kings=
and
countries: therefore, they are the best counselors of kings." Also, th=
ey
must keep the king company so they can tell his story later (Niane 78).
A=
lmost
without exception, every time I asked someone to explain the role of griots,
even without specifying traditional or modern, the first answer they gave w=
as
that the griot marched at the head of armies with his drum, witnessing the
battle and singing songs of encouragement to the warriors. I received this =
answer
in interviews in several regions of
N=
oble
families also counted on griots for more routine service. Griots were the
principle organizers of social functions such as naming ceremonies and
weddings. In traditional Senegalese societies, each ruling family had its o=
wn
distinctive hair braids, and griot women were responsible for dressing their
nobles' hair . Mamadou Guèye, a griot
researcher at IFAN4, lists braiding griots as one of three k=
inds
of griots, along with instrumentalists and singers (Guèye, personal
interview).
A=
lthough
most descriptions of traditional griots in scholarly accounts and especiall=
y in
popular accounts speak primarily of griots in the king's service, the vast
majority of griots served peasant géer. Like the king's griot=
s,
they spoke on behalf of their hosts at social gatherings and acted as
messengers and intermediaries. They were to be witnesses and chroniclers of
every activity, from hunting to farming to clan affairs, and were to relate
these events impartially when needed. When a young man wanted to take a wif=
e,
he would ask his griot about the eligibility of potential brides based on h=
er
own and her family's deeds. Likewise, the men of the bride's family would
consult their griot about the eligibility of the suitor. When the man decid=
ed
to take a wife, he would send assign his griot to make several visits to the
woman's family to present gifts and to advocate his case.
S=
ory Camara
classifies all relationships in Malinke* society as either "ten=
se"
or "joking." People can speak freely and with impunity to their
joking relations but must use an intermediary to communicate with a tense
relation. For example, a grandfather and his oldest grandson are joking
relations while a mother in law and her son in law are tense relations (Sory
Camara 228). Also, every clan has other clans that function as joking relat=
ions
and who can act as intermediaries to someone with whom one has a tense
relationship and who shares the joking relation. Whereas in many cases a mu=
tual
joking relation cannot be found, a griot has joking relationships with
everyone. Therefore, griots are usually the intermediaries of choice.
Griots in traditio=
nal
music
P=
erhaps the
most important traditional function of griots* seen from the perspective o=
f modern
S=
till,
although certain groups of non-griots traditionally practice music, it is o=
nly
recently that they have begun to move, against vehement social resistance, =
into
the professional music scene. Despite certain noble non-professional musical
traditions, griots were for a long time the only professional instrumentali=
sts,
singers, or dancers in most of
G=
riots
developed a wide variety of instruments that have become staples of today's
semi-traditional and popular music. In most areas, Wolof music was rhythmic
rather than melodic. Griots accompanied their highly energetic, predominant=
ly
monotone speech-song with the sabar*, a long drum characterized =
by
wooden rods protruding like spokes around its head, and the tama*, a small hourglass-shaped t=
alking
drum held under the arm. Sabar usually play in an ensemble of at lea=
st
four and sometimes even of dozens. This is because each of the several kind=
s of
sabar covers a different and complementary range. The nder is=
the
lead sabar and has a longer body and narrower head than the others,
producing a higher and more piercing tone. The principal accompaniment s=
abar
is the mbëìmbëì, which produces the widest r=
ange
of the sabar. Providing the bass of the ensemble are the lamb=
and
the goroì talmbat, which have no sound hole, making them func=
tion
acoustically like non-directional subwoofers.
|
Griot= division<= o:p> |
Ethnic
affiliation |
Instruments |
|
Géwël |
Wolof |
sabar (long drum) |
|
Gawlo |
Tukulóor,
assimilated into Wolof (as singers and xalam players) |
xalam (lute) |
|
Jèlí, jàlí |
Mande
(Bambara, Malinke, Mandinko). |
kora (harp-lute) |
|
Maabo |
Tukulóor,
Fulbe, assimilated into Wolof (also work as weavers today) |
tama (talking drum) |
|
Bambaado |
Fulbe |
tama (talking drum) |
|
(Fìná) |
Mande,
often grouped with griots but not true griots |
None |
|
(Ñoole) |
Wolof,
often grouped with griots but not true griots |
None |
|
Table 2.
Principle divisions of griots and their instruments. |
T=
he sabar
provided the entertainment for social gatherings and accompaniment for the
griots' songs and spoken narratives. There were specific sabar rhyth=
ms
for every kind of event. For example, mballax* and ceebujën rh=
ythms
accompanied the recreational dancing of women, the ndëp rhythm
accompanied exorcism rituals, and the gajarde accompanied soldiers
returning successfully from battle. The gajarde also extended to oth=
er
victorious occasions, such as when a wrestler won a traditional match or wh=
en a
bride was proved on her wedding night to have been a virgin. The tama* was the royal instrument, u=
sed to
summon people to hear decrees. An uncle of the family with which I stayed in
the Jolof was the descendent of a royal griot and showed me the royal Jolof=
tama,
which was originally used exclusively to communicate messages from the king.
This drum was much larger and had a much more pronounced hourglass shape th=
an
the tama that has come down to be used in more popular functions tod=
ay.
In most areas, these and similar drums were the only instruments used by Wo=
lof* griots.
S=
everal
other groups play drums somewhat similar to the Wolof sabar. The =
sabar
and corresponding rhythms of the Sereer are somewhat similar to those of the
Wolof, but their sabar are generally larger than Wolof sabar.
Mandinka griots also play a variety of drums that resemble miniature Wolof =
sabar,
and that for this reason are commonly called sabar soose in Wolof (<=
i>soose
is the Wolof word for Mandinka). All of these groups have the tama,
including the Fulbe, for whom it is the only drum. The Malinke* also play a drum called the=
jènbé
(jembe), which is shorter than the sabar, has a much wider head, and=
is
tuned with a network of strings around the head instead of with protruding
spokes. The jembe has become extremely popular today all over
O=
ther
ethnic groups, including the various Mande sub-groups, the Fulbe, and the
Tukulóor* have developed virtuosic tr=
aditions
on a small lute that the Wolof call xalam. This instrument appears o=
nly
recently to have come into Wolof society and even then, it has only come
through assimilation of non-Wolof griots and not through simple diffusion. =
Each
of these other groups has a different name for the instrument: the Mandinko=
* call it kònt&iacu=
te;ngo,
the Malinke call it kònín, the Bamana* call it ngòn&iacu=
te;
(although it is different from the hunter ngòní), and =
the
Fulbe and Tukulóor call it hoodu. The xalam* generally has from four to =
six
strings, depending on its region and function. The standard solo xalam
in
O=
f all the
griot instruments, the xalam shows the most variation in shape, size,
tuning, and instrumental style, of which there are dozens throughout
B=
ecause the
source of the xalam is the Bamana, much of its repertoire is origina=
lly
Mande. However, each region has adapted the Mande songs enough that a song =
of
the same name is virtually unrecognizable between areas of direct Mande
influence and areas of Tukulóor influence. When I heard Jolof-Jolof =
xalamkat
5<=
/span> playing a song whose name I
recognized but which sounded completely new to me, I would sometimes play t=
he
version I had learned. The player would almost always nod his head and say,
"Yes, that's Saalum-Saalum." They were right, for my teach=
er,
Malick Socé, is from the Saalum. In addition, each region has=
a
distinct repertoire of songs composed for regional kings and notables.
A=
long with
the jembe, the griot instrument with the most world renown today is =
the
kora*, a harp-lute with a calabas=
h body
and twenty-one fishing line strings fastened to a long wooden neck. This
instrument is almost exclusively played by Mande griots, having been develo=
ped
by Mandinko* in the upper
A=
nother
instrument used primarily by the Mande is the balafon (Maninke, Bamana: =
bálá,
Mandinka: báló) a xylophone with anywhere between
seventeen and twenty-one rosewood keys and a small calabash resonator benea=
th
each key. Like kora scales, the balafon scale is heptatonic, although its s=
cale
is ideally equidistant, meaning that it is not made up of whole and half st=
eps
but instead of seven equal intervals (Knight, "Vibrato" 4). This
difference in scale does not prevent balafon players from playing alongside
kora and xalam players. Griots in each group have additional
instruments, but the above instruments are the only ones that the Senegalese
widely recognize and listen to today.
In
traditional
Chapter
3: The Modern Retrospective Image of Traditional Griots
D=
espite the
equivocal nature of any prestige griots* could claim in the past, ma=
ny
Senegalese today insist far more on traditional griots' high status as
guardians of culture, public figures, and motivators than on their subordin=
ation
to géer*. The image the Senegalese h=
old
today of the traditional griot is usually not of an outcast but of a royal
counselor and great historian and storyteller. Even people who speak
pejoratively of modern griot acquaintances usually speak with great respect=
of
traditional griots.
W=
e can
attribute this image to the fact that the description of past griots comes =
to
us through tales told by today's griots, who have an interest in portraying
their heritage as illustrious. Also, evidence of the genius of past griots-=
the
highly sophisticated musical traditions, the elaborate epics and tales, the
complex histories-surrounds the Senegalese. As I have mentioned, the first
thing that almost all my informants explained about griots was their essent=
ial
role as witnesses of war. People often continued to explain griots' roles as
counselors to royalty and nobility. People today are extremely familiar with
many traditional griot songs, which they hold in high esteem as Westerners =
do
Bach and Mozart. Whatever the Senegalese know about the old kingdoms and the
ways of their ancestors, they have learned through the songs and histories =
of
the griots, which they have seen on television, heard on the radio, and been
told through their griots and griot-educated parents.
T=
he
pejorative myths explaining the origins of the caste system are little heard
today, and griots are now circulating more flattering myths. Radio personal=
ity
El Hadj Mada Penda Seck, the former drum major of President Léopold
Sédar Senghor, told me that the word ñeeño* derives from an expression =
that
means "those whom one envies." According to Seck, Géer<=
/i>
are jealous of ñeeño because of their highly refined
abilities. No one else I asked, griot or non-griot, could confirm this
etymology, but one of my griot friends answered that nobles "can't do
anything" and hence must envy the abilities of ñeeño<=
/i>,
who do all the skilled work. Seck also says that géwël* means "make a circle a=
round
me"-from géew, "circle," and -al, a suf=
fix
that can indicate, depending on context, either a command or a
an action performed on someone's behalf-meaning that everyone
congregates around the griot. He broadcast this definition over his evening
talk program, which he dedicated that particular night to me and my researc=
h.
Panzacchi also heard this definition from several griots and accepts it (20=
8).
However, as is the case with numerous other griot etymologies, I believe th=
at
these explanations have little historical basis. In reality, the word g&=
eacute;wël
is more likely related to the word gawlo* and other similar terms for=
griots.
Nonetheless, these etymologies show griots' perception of themselves as cen=
tral
figures with elevated status.
N=
ovelist
Aminata Sow Fall told me that neither griots nor any other caste occupies a
place inferior to that of the géer, and that Wolof* children are taught utmost =
respect
for griots. Griots' functions are different, but are no less important or l=
ess
prestigious than those of the géer. As proof, she told me that
griot women in her village are the first to suckle a newborn child. Although
few people I talked to agreed with the idea that griots had the same status=
as géer,
many agreed that they should be treated the same. Even if we can equivocate
many of these views of the griot's high status, they reflect an honest resp=
ect
on the part of many Senegalese for the contributions of past griots to
Senegalese culture.
W=
e see this
respect in countless places where griots are equated with history and
traditions.
the griot was not only the dyna=
mic
element in his tribe, clan, village, but also the candid witness of each ev=
ent.
It was he who recorded and divulged before everyone, under the palaver tree,
everyone's deeds and actions. The conception of my work flows from this
teaching: stay extremely close to reality and to the people." (10)
B=
oth
Senghor and Sembène, although differing emphatically in many respect=
s,
both see the traditional griot as a symbol of honesty and noble tradition. =
At
an interscholastic drama competition in
Chapter
4: Griotism and the Modern World
M=
any in
recent years have proclaimed the death of griots*, saying that today's griots=
, if
indeed they still exist at all, are only shadows of their ancestors. These
claims come from griots and non-griots alike. Malian griot novelist Massa M=
akan
Diabaté writes: "The griots died with the arrival of the whites=
. .
. . There are no more griots." He adds that today's griots are nothing=
but
public entertainers who sing of just anyone" (Diabaté 62-63). O=
ne
great griot told Lucy Durán: "There is no more Jaliya
[griotism], only begging" (Durán, "On Music" 233). Ca=
mara
Laye also condemns modern griots for not living up to their ancestors'
standards: these griots, who "wander through the big cities, looking f=
or
recording studios," are not "true griots." Modern griots
"know only a few scraps of African history, just enough for them to ca=
rry
on their jobs as music peddlers" (Camara Laye, Maître 20).
These sentiments are common in
N=
ot all see
the supposed death of the griot so bleakly. Thiouna Ndiaye Rose, my saba=
r* teacher and son of <=
st1:country-region>
I=
t is
difficult to take sides in this argument. Is true griotism dying out, and if
so, is its death a good thing? Like the West,
Socio-economic Cha=
nges
T=
he great
trend toward urbanization that began during French rule and continues today=
has
had a significant impact on griots and their art. As many of the more wealt=
hy
nobles moved to the city to take part in industry and government affairs, m=
any
griots followed their patrons, not finding much wealth in the village. Other
griot artists, especially musicians, actors, and public speakers, moved to =
S=
ince most
families living in T=
his tie is
important not only for a griot's image, but also for his practice. Griots g=
et
much of their information by conversing with other griots. Although griots
usually mention their parents and close relatives as their primary source of
training and knowledge, a deeper knowledge of a region and its history reli=
es
on hundreds or even thousands of contacts in a core village and in the
surrounding region. No matter how knowledgeable his father is, a historian
griot who grew up in the T=
hus, when
an urban family wants to have a celebration, they will likely summon a grio=
t to
come from their original village-a griot who kno=
ws
their extended family history in depth and can speak authoritatively. At a
naming ceremony I attended in Rufisque, a town a few miles outside <=
st1:City> I=
n addition
to the problem of detachment from one's roots, social organization in the c=
ity
is in many ways contrary to that of the village. While T=
his family
and caste configuration does not exist in the city, where houses are much
smaller and are often partitioned into several apartments and garrets. Rare=
ly
do all the apartments in a house belong to members of the same family. Inst=
ead,
while one brother may live in a downtown apartment on Avenue Pompidou, anot=
her
may live in the suburbs to the north and another in the S.I.C.A.P.
neighborhoods. This arrangement makes the traditionally easy task of visiti=
ng
various relatives on holidays into a nightmare of walking miles and catching
countless buses. S=
uch
circumstances permit few family get-togethers significant and concentrated
enough to warrant the presence of qualified griots. Whereas griots in the
village might be an almost constant presence in a large family's compound, =
the
same griots, once in the city, cannot make a living from the much smaller u=
rban
nuclear family. Instead, they must divide their time between families they =
know,
who are often far removed from each other, although the price of transporta=
tion
between one family's residence to the next might be equal to the total sum =
the
griot might have expected in the village. Making a living as a praise singe=
r in
the city can therefore be a difficult task, and many urban griots have
abandoned the profession altogether. Not only is it difficult for griots to
make a living this way, but their géer are less willing to
support them in the city. Life is much more expensive in the city, and a fa=
mily
will likely have fewer in-kind gifts, such as used clothes, their own
agricultural products, and shelter, to offer visiting griots. Having little=
to
offer and feeling bound by social obligations, many urban géer
dread the visit of a griot, which brings them little in their present situa=
tion
but which can prove expensive. A=
long with
urbanization has come an economic shift from a subsistence patron-client
economy, the foundation of griotism, to a market economy. Instead of produc=
ing
food for their own families and dependents, géer farmers today
produce cash crops such as peanuts, cashews, rice, and vegetables for sale.
Members of the tëgg* and uude castes who =
still
practice their traditional professions have set up small shops where they
produce their jewelry or leather products and sell them at market prices. M=
ost
artisans' customers are not longstanding patrons but strangers who stroll
through the immense E=
xcept in a
few peculiar cases, griots have not set up shop as other ñee&ntil=
de;o
have. Also, unlike their artisan counterparts, they cannot sell their produ=
ct,
words and music, as a commodity to strangers, for it would be impossible for
them to know the history and needs of every stranger they met at the market=
. As
a result, the old profession of griotism based on praise through historical
recitation is dying out in urban areas. M=
ost ñeeño
today, neither artisans nor griots by profession, have jobs unrelated to th=
eir
traditional profession. In fact, nobles during colonial times often sent th=
eir ñeeño's
children to schools "so as to preserve their own offspring from coloni=
al
influence" (Panzacchi 192). These ñeeño consequen=
tly
rose in the colonial system and to this day have maintained a high social a=
nd
economic position. Griots I knew in villages and in cities worked as school
teachers and principles, shopkeepers, computer systems analysts, bakers,
secretaries, entrepreneurs, and animal breeders. Only a small number of gri=
ots
I knew were griots by profession, and these were usually the ones I sought =
out
for this very reason. A=
nother
factor contributing to the mitigation of caste distinctions is the influenc=
e of
modern egalitarian ideas. French academics and administration, based on mer=
it
rather than on inheritance, have become the norm in I=
n spite of
these great changes, which appear to have threatened the existence of griot=
ism,
the status and social function of the griot has continued with surprising s=
trength
in recent years. Even though most Dakarois I spoke to were against the idea=
of
castes, most retained strong prejudices against griots for various reasons.
Although their contempt is partly a result of griots' traditional stigma, a=
far
more important factor is the observable difference in behavior between cert=
ain
members of the two castes. Griots as a caste have a reputation of asking for
money and for not associating with anyone outside their caste unless they c=
an
expect monetary gain from the relationship. This often holds true even when=
the
griots no longer practice any kind of traditional art. Many géer<=
/i>
therefore limit contact with griots to cases when they specifically need a
griot or when the griot in question has been proved not to act "like a=
griot."
Consequently, social interaction between the castes can sometimes be awkwar=
d,
and even highly educated géer who are theoretically opposed to
castes still generally speak and act as if griots, both as a caste and as a
profession, were inferior to themselves. A=
lthough at
first I was tempted to view nobles' contempt for griots as an anachronistic
misconception, I quickly learned why they found it difficult to associate w=
ith
griots. Many griots I spoke with constantly asked for money and praised me,=
whether
they practiced the griot's profession or not. Like géer, I found mys=
elf
limiting my interactions with griots to times, such as interviews and music
lessons, when there was no substitute. (This situation cannot be helpful wh=
en
one is attempting to conduct research on griots. I must mention, on the oth=
er
hand, that some of the most generous and friendly people I knew in <=
st1:country-region> O=
n numerous
occasions I experienced the nature of modern griotism first hand. Many grio=
ts
do unsolicited favors that are unnecessary but flattering, trying to
demonstrate to their potential patron that they are worthy servants. For
example, when I attended a traditional religious celebration in Rufisque, a
griot approached me and explained in French that he was a griot and that pe=
ople
were supposed to give money to griots. I answered in Wolof* that I was a griot because =
I played
the kora*, xalam*, and sabar*, which took him aback. Then=
in
typical griot fashion, he took my hand and raised it before the crowd,
exclaiming to all, "Behold the great griot!" This griot was
performing two typical griot actions: he was announcing the stranger, which=
is
an important function in village settings; and he was doing so in the most
flattering way possible in order make me want to give him something. O=
n another
occasion when I visited the RTS* radio studio to interview a=
griot
announcer, El Hadj Mada Seck, during the idle minutes of his announcing shi=
ft,
Seck absented himself to do his regular half-hour talk program, which he ha=
d an
assistant record for me. Although my visit was unscheduled, he spoke with h=
is
griot co-announcer immediately before they went on the air, and they dedica=
ted
the program to me and answered the questions I had asked him about the role=
of
the griot. Unable to understand radio-speed Wolof*, I turned to the woman runn=
ing the
control board midway through the broadcast and asked what he was saying, to
which she responded, "He is thanking you for your generosity." In
reality, I had never given nor promised anything to Seck. This being one of=
my
first experiences with a griot, I was slow to understand that this favor was
not without its obligations, so Seck reminded me gently afterwards that it =
is
customary to give something in exchange for all services rendered by a grio=
t. I=
had a
similar experience when I asked a griot drummer at the national theater a b=
rief
question about what he did with the theater, intending to get a few seconds
worth of information. His response lasted a full hour, and he told me all a=
bout
the history of the unique rhythms he plays, explaining that he is the last
remaining griot to know these rhythms, which are the most traditional rhyth=
ms
to be found anywhere. All the other "griots" in M=
ore
annoying to géer than offering an unsolicited service is the
tendency of some griots to ask for money or other items without ever having
rendered any service at all. These griots have maintained the habit of
depending on patrons but have lost the habit of performing reciprocal servi=
ce.
After a griot technical crew member at the national theater heard that I had
given a small sum of money the above-mentioned drummer, he approached me the
next day and asked for money, ostensibly so the tech crew could buy some te=
a.
On another occasion as I was walking through downtown T=
he
practice of doing small favors to oblige others and asking for gifts simply
because one thinks another to be in a position to give is not reserved to
griots alone. Most Senegalese, especially those who are or appear to be
well-off, are accustomed to being asked for money by various people, and th=
ey
do not always assume that the asker is a griot. Nonetheless, this practice =
is
generally called "griotism" because of griots' reputation. Many
people place the blame for corruption and complacency at all levels on grio=
ts,
who they believe originated the practice of expecting money from all
relationships. One informant told me that about 90% of the people who stop
strangers in the street and ask for money are griots. According to my
informant, non-griots do not learn such behavior as children because if the=
ir
parents saw them behaving so shamelessly they would punish them severely,
whereas griot parents encourage this behavior through their example. I have=
no
data to support or refute this statistic, which is probably greatly inflate=
d,
but it nonetheless reflects a common attitude in W=
hen I told
a friend one day that someone I had asked several months before for directi=
ons
stopped me in the street and asked for money, he laughed and said "tha=
t's
griotism for you." I replied that I didn't know whether or not the man=
was
a griot, to which my friend answered, "It doesn't matter. It's still
griotism, since griots are the ones who invented it." During the
high-school drama competition mentioned above in which the trophy was a
"Griot," a character in one play, infuriated at a couple who reta=
ins
him expecting him to give them money, yells out, "You griots!" Th=
is
designation of any profiteer as a griot is common. I=
n spite of
the common claims by Senegalese people that the caste system is gone and th=
at
one can marry into whatever caste one pleases, marriages between griots and
members of other castes are not much more common today than they were in
traditional times. Of the hundreds of griots I knew, almost none could name
anyone they knew who had married outside their caste, and I myself knew only
one son of an inter-caste marriage. Also, the popular singer Youssou Ndour,
commonly regarded as a griot by caste, is in fact the son of a gé=
er
father and a g=
awlo* mother. The remainder of th=
e griots
I knew usually married within their griot subgroup (géwël*, jèlí<=
/span>*, etc.) or occasionally with=
someone
of another subgroup. W=
hy, if so
many Senegalese are against the idea of caste distinctions do caste relatio=
ns
persist? Even géer who saw themselves as extremely modern and
progressive often told me that they would never marry a griot. Kisma Sakho,=
a
friend of mine and a recent graduate of the T=
he
attitudes and actions of both griots and géer show us that gr=
iots
are far from losing their unequal status or their place in society. They are
still a central part of every important social event and maintain their
position as clients of géer. Their role in the modern politic=
al
process further demonstrates their continued importance. A=
s is the
case with many former colonies, T=
hese
changes greatly affected the caste system, as now the correlation between p=
ower
and caste disappeared. Griots* and smiths were as likely t=
o rise
to the top as were nobles. Today's Prime Minister, Iba Der Thiam, is a t=
ëgg*, and griots today occupy se=
veral important
positions of authority. Several families of griots in Daara-Jolof, a village
where I lived for several weeks, provide the most prominent politicians of =
the
area. The present system may actually favor griots, who=
alone have been trained as public speakers and diplomats. I=
t is not
rare to see the roles of griots and nobles reversed. A griot friend of mine=
who
is somewhat influential and well-off told me that géer someti=
mes
praise him and ask him for money, although such a practice would have been =
unthinkable
some years ago. Even when people know who the rightful heir to the throne of
their region is, they usually do not honor these people any more than avera=
ge
members of society. For example, in the Griots in politics=
and
government
I=
n spite of
these changes, griots continue to play essentially the same role as
communicators, praise singers, entertainers, and advisors, but have transfe=
rred
their loyalties from nobility to modern politicians and their parties. Repl=
acing
aristocrats as a major source of patronage, government and politicians have
found several functions for griots. First, using griots is an effective way=
for
politicians to win over the electors. Griots in politics entertain, deliver
political messages, and use laudatory history to establish their candidate's
continuity with venerated traditions. Additionally, government has patroniz=
ed
griot artists through national arts organizations.
O=
ne of the
most conspicuous political uses of griots is in campaigning. Political rall=
ies
are no exception to the rule that wherever there is a significant number of
Senegalese gathered in one place, whether it be a family party, Catholic or
Islamic meeting, parade, concert, play, dance, political meeting, or even m=
arket
event, griot drummers must be present. When I commented that I saw drummers
without fail at every social event I attended, people usually told me that =
if
there are no griots, no one comes. Politicians have learned this lesson and=
use
griot musicians to draw impressive crowds on their campaign tours even when=
few
in the crowd will vote for them. I was in
T=
he
Socialist Party,
S=
everal
organizations of griots have formed to campaign for the Socialist Party. Th=
e Association
des grands griots du Parti Socialiste (Association of Great Griots of t=
he
Socialist Party) began during Senghor's administration and, true to its nam=
e,
included most of
D=
uring the
1980s, another organization, called CONAGRISAPAD, or the Comité
national des griots pour le soutien à l'action du président A=
bdou
Diouf (National Committee of Griots for the Support of the Action of
President Abdou Diouf), formed as rivals to the Association des grands
griots. EL Hadj Mada Seck informed me that these griots wanted to become
favorites of the Party and President, which at the moment were only receivi=
ng
the Grands Griots, so they formed their own group. Diop and Diouf
characterize as the methods of CONAGRISAPAD to "link themselves to an =
'authentic
and glorious past'" in order to establish President Abdou Diouf's
connection with traditional values and culture (252). Mada Seck says that t=
his
particular group is no longer active in politics.
I=
witnessed
firsthand the role of griots in political campaigning while I was living in
Daara, where I attended several Socialist Party rallies, all of which were =
much
like large concerts with occasional speeches as reminders that the PS was
funding the entertainment. At one of these meetings, two cousins of the gri=
ot
family with which I was staying played the tama* and sabar*, while my Fulbe riiti
(violin) teacher and another Fulbe sang. My riiti teacher, Amadou So=
w,
is not a griot, but he is the only non-griot professional musician in the a=
rea
and many of his closest friends are griots. It is common practice for Fulbe=
instruments
to be accompanied by Wolof* or Sereer percussion, since=
the
Fulbe themselves have no large drums. The group played some lively Fulbe tu=
nes,
while several female griots dressed in flamboyant boubous (robes) stood in
front of the audience and danced.
T=
he Master
of Ceremonies appeared and addressed the crowd and encouraged them to sit a=
nd
stay a while and then began to talk over the music about the candidate, who=
was
a griot and cousin of my local family. Although I never found out whether t=
he
MC was a griot, he spoke of the candidate's family and history and spoke
semi-rhythmically and forcefully like a griot. Whether or not he was a grio=
t,
he showed how the methods of griotism have been transferred effectively into
the modern political arena. The MC punctuated the concert with occasional
political remarks between and during songs, and at the culmination of the <=
span
class=3DGramE>evening, the candidate gave a brief speech before turn=
ing
the remainder of the time over to the musicians. I saw this same pattern ev=
ery
day during the campaign on the evening news, which showed clips from campai=
gn
meetings around the country.
I=
also
attended several gala concerts sponsored by the PS at the Théâ=
tre
National Daniel Sorano in
T=
he
entr'acte included all the major elements of traditional griotism: history,
praise, song, instrumental accompaniment, and jest. A xalam* player entered and began pl=
aying
while Abdoulaye Mbaye Pekh, one of the youngest griots to associate with th=
e Grands
Griots crowd on television and in other events, recited the family hist=
ory
of Fatou Guéwel. Another griot joined in, singing a praise song about
Fatou Guéwel. Mbaye Pekh then gave an extensive monologue, still
accompanied by the xalam, about Ousmane Tanor Dieng. Situating Tanor
Dieng in tradition, Mbaye Pekh added that "we must never forget our
P=
oliticians'
support of griots does not, however, automatically buy support from the pub=
lic
or griots. Because of his many political agendas, Tanor Dieng has clearly
become the most visible political patron of griots; yet he sometimes overst=
eps
the rules of acceptable patronage. At the eleventh-anniversary concert of <=
i>Raam
Daan, the group of superstar griot Thione Seck, several big patrons
presented Seck with significant monetary gifts. Although the audience made =
no
complaints about most gifts, "everything nearly fell apart," a
newspaper article reported, "when it was announced that Tanor Dieng and
his wife Mame Fily had sent an envelope. In chorus, the spectators booed and
yelled 'sopi!'" (Dia 2). Sopi=
is
Wolof* for "change" and is also the n=
ame of
a political party that challenged Tanor Dieng's PS during the 1998 election=
s.
This embarrassing situation showed what can happen when someone too obvious=
ly
attempts to buy off griots for political purposes.
E=
ven
outside official campaigns and government service, past and present politic=
al
leaders are a common subject of griots' popular praise songs. Popular singer
Ibrahima Seck (stage name, Dialy Bourafète, or "The Handsome
Griot") who released a cassette called Forage Moulin ("Wat=
er
Well Windmill") in March 1998, explained the
purpose of the title song:
I wanted to pa=
y just
homage to President Abdou Diouf and his wife Mme Elisabeth Diouf for all th=
ey
have done for the rural world, children, the disinherited, and the needy. S=
ome
years ago, our courageous women of the rural world were confronted with ard=
uous
domestic tasks, such as long water hikes, then millet to pound. Today, all =
that
is an old memory. Wells and windmills abound across the country, thanks to
President Abdou Diouf and his wife. (Sarr 9)
I=
n a
popular song called "Démocratie," female singer Khar Mbaye
Madiaga also sings praises to Abdou Diouf:
Yes, you went the [right] way, Diouf;
he passed through deliberation,
and by speaking at the right moment.
Yes. What makes a man is courage and seriousness.
Seventeen parties, all in a jumble.
They are shouting, but you keep your dignity.
They are shouting, but you keep your calmness.
It is by calmness that you can rule a country.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mbagnik Yacine Baba
Massine Yacine Baba
Caroline Yacine Baba . . .
Oh Abdou . . . Madiatou Badara and Mawado
Ndiaye Diouf your father at Guet-Ndar.
So, Elizabeth,
a good wife has to be like you. . . . (qtd. in
Panzacchi 205)
T=
his song
follows the pattern of the praise song used for both ancient kings and mode=
rn
presidents: it first enumerates and lauds Diouf's qualities, and then situa=
tes
these qualities in respected tradition by mentioning his genealogy. A simil=
ar
song, by another female griot, Haja Mbana Diop, praises the attributes
President Léopold Sédar Senghor:
You all know the year 1960.
It is in 1960 that Senghor became our leader.
All nations respect us,
Everybody respects Léopold.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
He obtained degrees and diplomas and the "baccalauréat."
"Agrégé de grammaire,"
You made the demands
And the country got its independence.
Through your intelligence the deltas were developed,
In addition to other projects that you had initiated.
You said to the nation "Work!"
Yee Sam Samanee . . . Yaay!
The heroes of
I=
n place of
the traditional king fighting wars, this song lauds a national leader fight=
ing
the battles that are important today. Significantly, the author of this song
added that today's wars "are not fought with spears and rifles, but wi=
th
ploughs and tractors and with dedicated hard work in the fields" (qtd.=
in
Makward 34). Senghor's victories, including obtaining
academic degrees, developing his country, and uniting his people to work to=
gether,
merit placing him among "the heroes of
D=
espite the
pervasiveness of praises for political leaders, not all griots have only go=
od
things to say about Diouf and the current cultural policy. Griots in general
see today's government, and especially President Abdou Diouf, as a "ba=
d géer*," or a stingy patron.
Countless artists complained to me about the lack of government funding for=
the
arts since Abdou Diouf came into power. In the past, government was one of =
the
most important sources of patronage for griot musicians, actors, and dancer=
s.
Artists remember wistfully the "golden age" under Senghor, who wa=
s a
legendary patron of the arts and himself a poet and member of the prestigio=
us Académie
Française. It was under Senghor that the Théâtre
National Daniel Sorano, a haven for griot performers, was established in the
1960s. Senghor also set up the Ecole National des Arts (National Sch=
ool
of Arts) and several cultural centers at the same time. He organized regular
symposia, lecture series, and art exhibits that today's elite nostalgically
described to me.
T=
oday, the
Théâtre National and various arts schools are in serious disre=
pair
and often go months without promised funding. A flyer I picked up at the So=
rano
Theatre, bearing the title "Au Secours!" ("Help!"),
described the sorry state of the public arts:
For a long tim=
e, the
men and women of the stage of the very famous Théâtre National
Daniel Sorano have been running behind a two-month salary delay-this is too
much!
. . . The arti=
sts of
Sorano no longer know where to lay their heads. We would have devoured the
planks of Sorano's stage, but they're public property and we don't have the
right!
On the eve of =
these
legislative elections, we say "no" to our right to vote. We can no
longer vaunt the merits of any party.
An urgent call=
is sent
out to the place of Government: from now on we want a true Ministry of Cult=
ure,
a Théâtre National to the pride of the Senegalese people, who
would hoist this noble art to the greatest heights!
You will agree= with us, dear compatriots, that a State without art is a State without culture!<= o:p>
A=
lthough
this was the only time I saw this sentiment expressed in print, I heard suc=
h remarks
expressed throughout the whole artistic community, and most people blamed A=
bdou
Diouf, accusing him of ignoring the arts and using national money for his o=
wn
purposes. Whether or not Diouf is to blame for these economic difficulties,
which apply to all sectors of
T=
he physical
state of the theatre is only a superficial indication of the disrepair of t=
he
national troupes. Sorano is home to three troupes, all established under
Senghor's patronage: the Troupe Nationale Dramatique (National Drama=
tic
Troupe), the Ballet National Linguère (Linguère Nation=
al
Ballet), and the Ensemble Lyrique Traditionnel (Traditional Lyric
Ensemble). During the six months that I was there, the Dramatic Troupe
performed one play on its own and participated for a few minutes in another
performance put on by the Lyric Ensemble and Ballet. The Ballet performed t=
wo
of their own shows and collaborated with the Lyric Ensemble on two more. The
Lyric Ensemble performed one concert on its own in addition to the two
performances with the Ballet. Thus, all three troupes together put on six
performances during the first half of 1998. They were each scheduled to per=
form
once every month, but most of the performances were cancelled without
explanation. Although Sorano was home to all of
Education as chall=
enger to
the griot monopoly
A=
s a
witness to the new social, economic, and political realities in
I=
concluded
that all of these factors contributed to a certain degree, but that one of =
the
most important explanations was that even when géer wanted mo=
re
than anything else to become an artist and even their families supported th=
em,
they often found no way to learn to become an artist. In areas in which
non-griots were succeeding at integrating themselves into the artistic scen=
e,
it was because they had found effective means of education. The areas in wh=
ich
griots dominate in the performing arts and media are precisely the areas in
which no modern educational institution has developed a successful means of
educating the general population. On the other hand, modern educational
institutions have succeeded in training non-griots in a few areas, in which
non-griots are beginning to erode the griot monopoly. Although griots'
traditional educational system has largely broken down in recent years, it =
is
still much stronger than the methods available to géer=
* in most forms of art and me=
dia. We
will look at the influence of education on the fields as music, drama, and
public speaking in
B=
efore
T=
oday, it
is difficult for griots and non-griots to learn an instrument with true
proficiency. Most Senegalese children of all castes, rural and urban, attend
public schools. These schools offer a standardized curriculum and replace t=
o a
large degree the home education by which children used to learn the profess=
ions
of their parents. Thus, children are much less likely today than ever befor=
e to
face constant exposure to a traditional career such as music, smelting, or
farming. Although some schools offer an extremely limited musical curriculu=
m,
none of this instruction is geared toward training professional musicians. I
spoke with a high school student in Thiès, a town about an hour outs=
ide
of
P=
erhaps a
more promising place to learn music and other performing arts is the Con=
servatoire
National Douta Seck in
W=
ith few
exceptions, the school does not have the financial or pedagogical resources=
to
teach any of these skills effectively. The first thing I noticed when I ent=
ered
the Conservatory was that the building and supplies were in deplorable
condition. Window panes were missing and a think layer of dust was building=
up
on all the furniture. The stiff veneer on the particle-board desks was peel=
ing
off and sticking straight up, making many of them useless as writing surfac=
es,
and sitting in any of the chairs was a precarious undertaking, as the seats
were prone to fall off. There were only two pianos, both badly out of tune =
and
missing notes, and in the kora class, there were two koras in bad condition=
for
twelve students, none of whom owned koras. Those studying other instruments
encountered the same scarcity.
P=
erhaps in
even greater disrepair than the materials is the curriculum itself, a
near-perfect simulacrum of a French system perhaps unchanged since
independence, with a few superficial modifications for a Senegalese student=
body. The curriculum consists of daily theory classes,
including sight singing and basic notation concepts, and once-a-week
instrumental classes held in large groups. All study programs last four yea=
rs,
after which one graduates and, ideally, enters the professional music world.
Except for certain traditional instrument classes taught by older griots who
speak little French, conservatory classes are taught entirely in French, the
only language allowed in any public school setting. The theory classes ape
French public school classes with their focus on correctly transcribing the
lecture material and repeating the material back. I saw no attempt to expla=
in
the material's relevance to situations the students would likely face were =
they
to become professional musicians. In fact, professional musicians whom I as=
ked
about the utility of the things taught at the Conservatory laughed and said
they would be surprised if anyone educated in such a fashion would ever suc=
ceed
as a professional musician. My sabar* teacher, Thiouna Ndiaye Ros=
e,
received all the free musical education he needed from his father Doudou Nd=
iaye
Rose, Senegal's most respected sabar player. Nonetheless, he studied=
at
the Conservatory on scholarship in the 1970s, when the directors hoped he w=
ould
be an example of the usefulness of combining traditional musical technique =
with
Western theory. He says he has never once used the theory he learned, and t=
hat
students at the Conservatory will be shocked to learn that no one in the mu=
sic
industry cares what kind of classes they attended or certificate they have.=
T=
he
instrumental classes are at least as unhelpful as the theory classes. They,
too, adopted the French format inherited from the colonial era while failin=
g to
develop a corresponding method relevant to Senegalese needs. The limited ti=
me
available in modern classes necessitates methods more concentrated and
systematical than traditional methods. In addition, the Conservatory does n=
ot
allow individual instrumental classes, and I only knew one or two students
while I was attending classes there who owned an instrument. Thus, students
received between five and ten minutes a week of individual instruction in t=
heir
instrumental classes, in which instruments are too few to teach students as=
a
group, and then they could schedule a few random hours during the week to
practice on the school's instruments. Dedicated students told me they somet=
imes
managed to secure an hour of practice time a day by coming at six in the
morning.
T=
here was
no instructional method in use in my kora* class, although Knight repo=
rts that
the Conservatory developed an instructional manual in the 1960s
("Vibrato" 17). Instead, the teacher worked his way around the ro=
om,
having one student take the kora and demonstrating simple ostinatos and hav=
ing
the student repeat the pattern. He moved on when the student was able to re=
peat
to his satisfaction or when it was apparent that the student would not get =
it
in the allotted time. I saw little to no improvement in the playing of these
students while I was there, and none of the students in the more advanced
classes could play an entire piece proficiently. I observed the same
difficulties concerning the other instruments, especially the traditional
instruments. The Conservatory has adopted a modern educational setting to t=
each
Senegal's traditional instruments but has not developed concentrated techni=
ques
of teaching to make up for the absence of constant exposure that griots hav=
e. I
knew of no professional musicians in
T=
he one
area in which the Conservatory's musical program succeeds is in its
"Ensemble Lyrique Traditional," patterned after the national
traditional music troupe. This auditioned ensemble has some occasional
instrumentalists, although the permanent members are all vocalists, with the
exception of the instructor, Ousseynou Mangane, a non-griot who plays the
balafon and sings (and the only non-griot I knew in
A=
lthough we
may cite several reasons for which this Lyric Ensemble succeeded where many
other classes failed, the main reason seems to be that singing and traditio=
nal
song composition are skills that can be taught in large groups without any
materials. No matter how skilled an instructor, it is impossible to teach an
instrument without a certain quality and quantity of instruments. In additi=
on,
the teacher had successfully blended traditional performance and pedagogy w=
ith
more modern techniques, developing methods appropriate for the classroom
setting. It appears that such vocal instruction may be one of the only major
challenges to griots' dominance in vocal music. While I have never heard a
non-griot perform a traditional griot instrument aside from the jembe with =
fluency,
I have heard several non-griot singers perform with the fluency of a griot.=
The
students of the Conservatory's Ensemble Lyrique are performing near the lev=
el
of professional popular singers and singers at the National Theater.
D=
rama
education at the Conservatory enjoys the same advantages as the Ensemble
Lyrique. Like traditional singing, drama can be taught in groups and without
any materials. Also, the Conservatory's drama teacher, Belgian stage direct=
or
Phillipe Laurent, uses rigorous European methods to teach students effective
ways of adapting traditional drama and everyday situations into their drama=
s.
Laurent integrates the improvisatory methods common in Senegalese popular a=
nd
traditional performance into the academic setting, helping students develop
their spontaneity and creativity. I attended several events at which drama
students from the conservatory performed, and I noticed that their performa=
nces
in original, light situational pieces were much more impressive than more
serious, European-style (and, for them, artificial) poetic readings and tra=
gic
pieces. The drama program succeeds because it allows students to develop
traditional and popular forms naturally instead of uncritically imposing
European methods.
B=
ecause of
these effective methods, graduates and even some students of the drama prog=
ram
are prominent today in
A=
nother
case in which a modern educational institution has challenged a traditional=
ly
griot-dominated field has been radio and television broadcasting. When the
government set up a national radio and television station, the griots natur=
ally
lent themselves to the task of broadcasting. Several griots were already
nationally known as public speakers, and the job was seen as a continuation=
of
their vocation. At the same time, the government set up the Centre d'Etu=
des
des Sciences et Techniques de l'Information
(Center for the Study of Information Sciences and Techniques), or CESTI, in=
T=
oday, few
new television and radio announcers are griots. This difference in caste is
reflected in a difference in style and format. The younger announcers on the
RTS* radio and television statio=
ns work
different programs than their older griot counterparts. The griots deliver =
the
news much as village griots make important announcements. They wear
conservative boubous, speak Wolof* and other national language=
s, and
speak in the elegant fashion typical of griots. The CESTI-educated announce=
rs
wear Western business attire, speak French exclusively, and speak in a subd=
ued
and steady, typically noble manner. Perhaps the greatest change is that you=
nger
announcers read word-for-word from scripts, while the griots improvise, make
personal comments, and often discuss as they might discuss under a palaver
tree. The new style may well replace the older griot style of announcing, f=
or
all of the prominent griots, except for the relatively young Abdoulaye Mbaye
Pekh, are near retirement.
I=
t is not
necessarily out of preference that the Senegalese are now listening to
non-griot announcers, but by default, for few young griots have learned the
traditional art of announcing from their elders. Most of the younger,
school-trained announcers are fresh out of school and have a stiff, academic
way of announcing. The Senegalese do not generally consider them to be
important public figures like griot announcers. Although formally educated
announcers do much of the routine announcing, it is still the older and more
respected and established griot announcers who are called upon to provide l=
ive
commentary on important national events such as traditional wrestling, major
Islamic conferences, and Independence Day parades. RTS* radio and television broadc=
ast both
traditional and Western news programs daily, so both griots and non-griots
announce most important events.
A=
nother way
in which education appears to challenge the practice of griotism is through
imbuing students with a more "modern" mindset, making them less
likely to think it is important to support griots. Modern education stresses
the importance of contractual work and self-reliance and discourages the
practice of asking others for money. In an high-=
school
English class I attended, a short story in the text told the story of a lon=
ely
man who won the lottery and found that he suddenly had a huge family and ci=
rcle
of friends, which lasted until his money had all disappeared. The ensuing class discussion centered on the villagers' selfi=
shness
and the man's gullibility. Although to mention castes in a public sc=
hool
would have been unacceptable, I imagine that most students could not fail to
recognize such a classic case of "griotism."
M=
any griot
parents today do not want their children to grow up to be professional grio=
ts,
and most griot children do not want to become professional griots either. I=
met
few griots who actively taught their children to play an instrument or to s=
ing
or speak. I knew a famous sabar* player whose son wanted to =
become a
musician, but who refused to teach his son to play the sabar, while =
his
wife forbade the boy from becoming a musician. They told him that he should=
go
to the university and become a government minister or business man or somet=
hing
else respectable. Like thousands of other young Senegalese, he has started a
rap group, which appeals to youth because of its social content and popular
image and because they need no materials or training to perform it. On the
other hand, I knew another young rapper griot whose father, an actor at Sor=
ano,
told him that he was proud of his son for being "the only one to follo=
w in
[his] footsteps as an artist." Other children of griots I knew in
I=
found a
strong negative correlation between one's educational level and the importa=
nce
one attached to giving to griots. People who held
university degrees usually thought it completely optional and often foolish=
to
give to griots, while people who had not attended the "French"
school, as public schools are sometimes called, found giving to griots to b=
e an
obligation and a sign of prestige. There may be a correlation between the f=
act
that more men than women attend school and the fact that the vast majority =
of
those who give to griots are women. I carefully counted the number of people
who gave to griots at various concerts, mostly at Sorano, and counted that
about 75% were women. In most families that I knew, especially in rural are=
as
but also to a certain extent in
I=
also
found a strong negative correlation between a griot's education and her or =
his
obsession with money. Griots who had attended little or no school were most
likely to do nothing without asking for money, even if they did not consider
themselves to practice the griot profession, while those who had attended h=
igh
school and especially university often showed no such tendencies. On both t=
he géer* side and the griot side, th=
is trend
partially explains why griots are finding less employment today and why few=
er
of them are willing to practice griotism. New attitudes dismiss griotism as=
an
anachronistic and shameful form of begging. This change in attitude may not=
be
entirely undesirable, since this is precisely what griotism has become in m=
any
modern instances.
E=
ducation
is one of the most important challenges to the traditions and cultural
prominence of griots. We have also seen that the failure of education to fi=
nd
effective means of transferring the griots' art to the general public is a
major reason for griots' continued monopoly over traditional instruments. We
will soon see, however, that the failure of modern educational methods to
encroach upon griots' monopoly benefits neither griots nor their would-be c=
ompetitors.
Although the art of griots shows many encouraging signs of life, some of the
most venerated and valuable aspects of griots' art face extinction as the g=
reat
griots find no successors.
Chapter
5: The New Art of Griots
I=
t is true
that the Senegalese often think first of the idealized traditional griot* when asked about griots by =
an
outsider. However, the griots who have the most palpable influence on their=
lives
are today's griot artists and speakers, the most prominent of which are
semi-traditional performing artists, television and radio announcers, and
popular musicians. Griots appear more frequently than any other group on ra=
dio
and television and are prominent at almost all public events. We will first
discuss griots' participation in traditional and semi-traditional performan=
ce
contexts.
Griot performance =
in
traditional and semi-traditional contexts
S=
everal
major differences separate the semi-traditional performing arts from the
traditional performing arts. The main difference lies in the scale and
composition of the audience, and in griots'* corresponding adaptation to=
the
needs of their audience. I designate any performance to be traditional if it
fulfills a traditional function within a small audience at a family gatheri=
ng
or village event, even if the performer uses modern tools to do so. This is
because the means at a griot's disposition are in constant flux, and a grio=
t who uses amplification, nylon instrumental strings, or
imported tin rattles fulfills as traditional a function as one who does not=
. In
fact, eclecticism is more a traditional Senegalese value than is unyielding
conservatism.
A=
lthough
ongoing change has always characterized performances in traditional Senegal,
the urbanization and centralization of the modern era have brought entirely=
new
performance contexts in which the performer has a much different role than =
ever
before in pre-colonial society. Among these contexts are concerts, radio and
television broadcasts, large sporting events, and recording, all of which a=
llow
the performer to speak to a mass audience and not only to small group. The =
essential
characteristic of what I define as a semi-traditional performance is that it
uses elements developed within a traditional context, such as traditional
instruments, vocal style, or dance, and reassembles these elements for
performance to a mass audience. These performances are not geared toward a
single family and its guests, but rather toward a heterogeneous group of
unrelated people from all over the city or town. The schism between artist =
and
audience is greater than in traditional occasions, for the artist is either=
on
a stage or captured in an electronic medium, whereas performers in traditio=
nal
contexts are guests along with their audience.
I=
n spite of
these important differences in context and resultant differences in form,
semi-traditional artists attempt, sometimes
self-consciously, to preserve and present what they see as
"traditional" art. In this way they may be distinguished from
performers of "popular" arts, who may also use traditional elemen=
ts
but do not emphasize them explicitly. The lines between traditional,
semi-traditional, and modern arts are extremely fuzzy but are useful for
illustrative purposes. I will first discuss some of the few remaining
well-known traditional artists, which include certain members of the Ass=
ociation
des Grands Griots and similar musicians and speakers. Then I will discu=
ss a
few of the semi-traditional performing arts, including folklore music
ensembles, theater troupes, ballet companies, and musical accompaniment of
traditional wrestling, although griots appear in many more semi-traditional
contexts.
A=
round the
time of independence, nearly all rural and urban Senegalese were familiar w=
ith
a circle of legendary griots who often appeared =
in
radio, television, recordings, and concerts at the Théâtre
National Daniel Sorano. For the most part, these same griots made up th=
e Association
des Grands Griots du Parti Socialiste mentioned above. Most of these gr=
iots
fall into our traditional category, for although they performed in large
settings and made recordings, they did not significantly alter the form and
content of their music. Of the three survivors-El Hadj Mansour Mbaye, El Ha=
dj
Mada Seck, and El Hadj Samba Diabaré Samb-only Samb is still a
traditional performer, while Mansour Mbaye is a television announcer and Ma=
da
Seck has given up drumming for radio announcing. The musicians in this group
all used to play in the Ensemble Lyrique Traditionel at Sorano, and
their recordings, solo and in small groups, were commonly heard on the radio
and later on television.
T=
he only
traditional artist whose cassettes I saw on the commercial market in
T=
he only
possible successor to the title of great xalam* player in
I=
n addition
to
W=
hile many
traditional instruments are disappearing from everyday life in
M=
uch more
present than traditional musicians in the lives of today's Senegalese are
semi-traditional musicians, who turn traditional elements into art forms th=
at
appeal to large audiences and that can be presented well in large venues. E=
ven
though griots dominate just as much in popular singing as they do in
semi-traditional areas, the populace recognizes the more traditional arts as
griots' domain and usually assumes that those who participate in such things
are griots. The Théâtre National Daniel Sorano with its
three performing troupes is popularly known as the home turf of the griots.
When I arrived in
|
|
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|
![3D"Fig.](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image002.jpg")
T=
he Ballet
performs spectacular stage arrangements of traditional dances from various
regions of
|
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Fig.
3. A Wolof sabar ensemble from the Ballet National Linguè=
;re
of Sorano. |
![3D"Fig.](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image003.jpg")
O=
ne of the
ballet's greatest assets is its excellent all-griot corps of musicians, amo=
ng
the best in Senegal, who are probably the only performers remaining in Daka=
r to
present truly traditional music in a public setting. I do not mean to say t=
hat
M=
ost of the
prominent members of the Troupe Nationale Dramatique are griots, as =
is
not the case with most other theatre troupes in
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|
Fig. 4. A
scene from the play Emilie de Villeneuve, in which a Wolof chief
addresses his people about the coming of Catholic missionaries. Members of
the Troupe Nationale Dramatique composed this play and performed in
February, 1998. |
![3D"Fig.](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image004.jpg")
A=
ccordingly,
the form of some of the plays explicitly suggests continuity with the
storytelling traditions of the griots. For example, while I was in <=
st1:City>
T=
he Ensemble
Lyrique Traditionel, whose status one might compare to a Western classi=
cal
orchestra, plays what is popularly designated as "traditional" mu=
sic,
although Malick Socé, the principal xalam player, explained t=
o me
that their music is "folklore," and is not entirely
"traditional." His distinction is accurate,
sincethe ensemble uses traditional songs, instruments, and techniques, but
includes a large number of instruments that would never have played togethe=
r in
more traditional settings. For example, the ensemble mixes instruments from
different ethnic groups in distant regions, such as the Wolof sabar,=
the
Mandinka kora, and the Balanta balafon. In addition to the ethnic differenc=
es
between the instruments, the difference in dynamics between the deafening <=
i>sabar
and gentle stringed instruments such as the xalam and kora is such t=
hat
the stringed instruments would be altogether inaudible without amplificatio=
n.
Thus, the ensemble's texture, despite its use of traditional instruments, is
quite unlike anything heard in a village. Like the ballet, the ensemble
performs pieces from various regions and ethnic groups, depending on the
singer's origin. When the featured singer is a Sereer, the instrumentalists,
none of whom are Sereer, must improvise their own accompaniment part.
E=
xcept for
Fulbe flutist Amadou Sara Bâ and the Balanta balafon player, all of t=
he
instrumentalists in the Ensemble Lyrique are griots. As Fulbe flutis=
ts
and Balanta balafon players are traditionally non-griots, the ensemble show=
s no
discrepancy with traditional patterns. Also, all the singers except one, a
Sereer, are griots. The permissiveness of Sereer society toward gé=
;er
singers leads many Wolof mistakenly to believe either that the Sereer have =
no
griots or that they all are griots. Thus, even the few non-griots in the
Ensemble perform in ways acceptable to their traditional societies. The =
Ensemble
Lyrique also includes three xalam players, two kora players, a
Malinke* balafon player, and usually=
between
seven and ten drummers, who play sabar*, jembe, and other drums. At=
the
concerts I attended, only one of about ten singers was a man. Traditionally,
most singers are women, and a singing group often includes several women and
only one man.
A=
concert
by the Ensemble Lyrique at Sorano is one of the most striking proofs
that the practices of griotism, and not just its music, are still alive. Wh=
en I
first attended one of these concerts, I was surprised to find singers in a
large, professional venue receiving and in some cases soliciting gifts. It =
is
also clear from watching these concerts that the public enjoys giving to gr=
iots
and that giving conspicuously is still a great sign of prestige. During a
concert by the ensemble that lasted only a little over an hour, I counted 62
monetary gifts to the griot singers. In other words, someone gave an averag=
e of
almost a gift per minute, although most of the gift-giving was concentrated=
in
just a few minutes when a particular favorite of the audience was singing.
Significantly, during this Sorano concert, the one non-griot singer receive=
d no
gifts, although she was enthusiastically applauded.
A=
t one
point, a lavishly dressed woman from the audience danced up the steps to the
stage and handed the solo singer a purse full of money and other small gift=
s.
The singer immediately recognized the woman and began to praise her name du=
ring
the song, and the woman danced on stage for the remainder of the song. It w=
as
clear that this woman was the griot's regular patron and that the griot had
composed the song for her. I saw this kind of event at several semi-traditi=
onal
and popular concerts, and the major patron was almost always a woman. Some
scholars have identified the regular female patrons of the Sorano singers a=
s diriyanké,
a merchant class of women who live surrounded by a court of other women and
male transvestites (Panzacchi 195). The only explanation my informants gave=
me,
however, was that these women were wealthy patrons of the griots. These
occurrences show that even though these griots sing to a large audience and
make most of their livelihood from contractual business, the tradition of
one-on-one patronage is still strong.
S=
everal
other semi-traditional music groups are household words in
G=
ambian
Sereer griot Moussa Ngom leads another famous semi-traditional group called
Askan wi. This multi-ethnic group includes a Man=
dinka
kora* player, a Wolof xalam player
and sabar* ensemble, a Fulbe flutist, a
Malinke* jembe player, a Balanta bal=
afon
player, and various singers. In line with tradition, all these players are
griots except the flutist and the balafon player. Although both Médi=
na
Sabakh and Askan wi use only traditional Senegal=
ese
instruments, they produce a vigorous sound more characteristic of popular m=
usic
than of traditional music. A member of the Baay-Faal* religious order within the =
Murid* Islamic brotherhood, Ngom i=
s a
praise-singer of Muridism's nineteenth-century founders, Cheikh Amadou Bamb=
a* and Cheikh Ibra Fall, and o=
f the
Prophet Muhammad. Like many Baay-Faals, Ngom always wears untrimmed
dreadlocks, bright-colored harlequin clothing, and an amulet displaying a
photograph of Bamba. He dedicates all his songs to the Murid* sëriñ* (marabout* or master). He attributes h=
is
musical interest and success to his religious devotion rather than to his g=
riot
origins. Although it is difficult to determine what influence his family
background has had, it is true that Baay-Faal are expected to leave
behind caste identity and are known as singers, drummers, and praise-singers
regardless of caste. In fact, a large proportion of the non-griot popular
singers today, including Cheikh Lô and Souleymane Faye, are also B=
aay-Faals.
|
|
|
|
T=
he
semi-traditional singer with perhaps the greatest popular recognition in
M=
baye shows
himself to be a traditionalist not only in musical style but also in lyrical
content. He addresses traditionally griot topics of morality and praise of
patrons and friends. The title track of his most recent cassette, Naniou
Mougne (phonetically, nañu muñ, or "let us
endure"), shifts between the subjects of eternal reward for earthly
hardships and praises for Mbaye's patrons:
Thanks be to G=
od-we
give Him thanks.
If we Muslims lament what happens here,
it is because we are witnesses to our generation.
Let us endure the demands of God.
The suffering that has long vexed us
is far from the place where I am going.
The train that will go there has arrived:
let us endure long enough to go to the station.
Endure what befalls you-this is how God measures one's faith.
To the one who endures whatever happens,
God will show the pathway, that he or she may no=
t cry.
Seydi Barham Thiam-Barham [son] of Maïmouna,
the grandson of Thié Coura-he's the one I'm singing of.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Barham Thiam, you have done your duty.
You have not left your family alone, and you have done your duty.
Whatever God does is just: whoever knows this will have peace.
Let us endure difficulties.
I am singing Ablaye Der, Laye Baba Der, Laye Fat=
ou
Fall.
He's Seyni's husband. May God preserve you.
Oh, I know, it was your grandfather
who always had bowls of milk-the brother of Cheikh Tall=
,
the husband of Astou Guèye, who is also the father of Fallou
Sing, Ablaye Der.
You know, I know not. Don't despise me.
You have, I have not. . . .6
T=
here could
be few more typical examples of griotism in a song. As a griot counselor, M=
baye
gives us profound advice on living a better life. He then takes detours from
this moral lesson to praise, thank, and call on his patrons. Mentioning the
virtues of these patrons alongside the cardinal virtues of Islam is especia=
lly
flattering. Also, griots earn extra points for knowing particular details a=
bout
their patron's family, such as a grandfather who loves milk and the names of
aunts and uncles. Finally, Mbaye appeals to the intellectual and material
superiority of his patron and asks for a gift. Other Ndiaga Mbaye songs fur=
ther
address contemporary issues, such as preservation of the Senegalese homeland
and the treatment of children in Koranic schools (daara yi). All the
Mbaye songs I heard praised at least one patron, and some were devoted enti=
rely
to a single patron.
A=
lthough
semi-traditional music is much more popular than traditional xalam a=
nd
kora* music, which most
younger Senegalese consider boring because of the lack of strong =
sabar* rhythms, some Senegalese mo=
re
familiar with traditional styles see serious shortcomings in the newer styl=
es.
Virtuosity in any traditional instrument other than the sabar has be=
en
banished from semi-traditional and popular music, for all other instruments
only function to support the mballax* rhythms of the sabar=
. At one
semi-traditional concert I attended where my xalam teacher, Malick
Socé, was playing, I expected to hear him play the fascinating
variations to the Mandinka piece Ceddo, which he was teaching me at =
the
moment. Instead, all the instruments played one ostinato throughout the who=
le
piece. Furthermore, the sabar, which the Mandinka do not have, drown=
ed
out the other instruments such that any solos wo=
uld
have been almost inaudible. These newer versions of traditional music often=
dispose
of the virtuosity, improvisation, and originality of the traditional piece,
replacing them with repetition without variation, subjugating everything to=
the
sabar rhythms. Most semi-traditional groups use the same musical tex=
ture
throughout the whole concert or cassette, whereas traditional music uses
numerous textures and instrumental combinations. Still, semi-traditional
ensemble music is important for many Senegalese, who consider it an importa=
nt
part of their heritage because of its use of traditional instruments, rhyth=
ms,
and songs.
A=
mong the
many other semi-traditional contexts in which griots perform, among the most
conspicuous is in sporting events. Thiès is home to popular weekly
horseracing events, where female griots sing commentary on the races throug=
h a
song form developed particularly for horseracing called the mbabar. =
The
most popular sporting event in
E=
ach
wrestler belongs to a training group from his home region, and each training
group has a cohort of griot drummers. These drummers not only provide inten=
se
rhythmic accompaniment throughout the match, but they are also an important
part of the ritual aspect of the match. I saw a clear example of this role
during the championship match in
T=
yson's
principal drummer, Bada Seck, is the son of Tyson's father's main griot and
grew up with Tyson in the Saalum (Mbaye 9). For Tyson, Seck created a speci=
al bàkk*, or a rhythmic motif associ=
ated
with a family or person, called Bul Fale ("Don't Worry"),
which is Tyson's slogan. With the help of his popular music group, the G=
énération
Boul Falé, Bada Seck has released several cassettes paying homag=
e to
Tyson. Like all of Seck's albums, his newest, Saloum Saloum, is a
tribute to his patron Tyson. The title track compares Tyson to a warrior and
mentions his illustrious family and marabout*:
Congratulations, Mohammed Ndao.
Congratulations, Badr7
That is truly the way: conquer your peers
and conquer your elder brothers.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Ousseynou Ndao is your father,
Ndèye Diop is your mother.
Let all the Saalum-Saalum rise and dance. Sëriñ
Assane Cissé loves Kaolack.
I will go to Médina8 today.
Sëriñ Assane Cissé loves the Saalum.
T=
his kind
of praise song of a popular hero wins not only the patronage of the hero bu=
t of
the populace as well.
I=
n addition
to the drums, the piercing voices of female griot singers such as Ndè=
;ye
Ngom Bambilor, Khada Mbaye Madiaga, and Daro Mbaye praise, encourage, and
occasionally ridicule the wrestlers over the Médina stadium's
loudspeakers. Unlike the drummers, these singers belong to neither team, but
rather provide nonpartisan commentary on the deeds, history, and qualities =
of
each wrestler. I also saw other griots providing entertainment before wrest=
ling
matches. For instance, Malick Ndiaye, a comedian from Sorano's Troupe
Dramatique, and another comedian staged a hilarious mock wrestling match
before a major event. As always, all of these griots commentate, support, or
imitate the action, but never actually take part in it.
O=
ne sabar* player has expanded the art=
of pure
sabar playing to the mass proportions of modern life. Doudou Ndiaye =
Rose
and his many children and grandchildren give concerts in which they sometim=
es
number over a hundred players. It is only through teaching the women and sm=
all
children of the family to drum that Ndiaye Rose has been able to assemble s=
uch
a large group. It was also necessary to develop a teaching method to train =
all
these players, so Ndiaye Rose and his sons invented a progressive method th=
at
uses original pedagogical rhythms. Ndiaye Rose's son Thiouna Ndiaye Rose wa=
s my
sabar teacher and was the only Senegalese musician I knew who used a
well-defined method.
T=
he Ndiaye
Rose family has performed innumerable concerts and recorded several albums
(which are only available outside of
Griots in mass
communications
G=
riots* are also extremely visible =
in mass
communications, where their role is essentially the same as it has always b=
een,
but with new technology. Griots use mass media to entertain, praise, and
announce events to a much larger public than ever before. They are especial=
ly
prominent in radio and television, and are also well represented in such ar=
eas
as film and advertising.
A=
n elite
group of speaker-historians dominates the Senegalese national television
station, announcing the most important events on broadcasts and at major
gatherings. This group includes griots El Hadj Mansour Mbaye, Moustapha Ndi=
aye,
and Abdoulaye Mbaye Pekh, along with non-griot Oumar Dia. In addition to
announcing the news daily and commentating traditional wrestling every Satu=
rday
on television, these speakers frequently address the public at community
events. Mansour Mbaye and Abdoulaye Mbaye Pekh are especially prominent at
large Murid* gatherings in the Murid cap=
ital of
Tubaa* and around
S=
everal
television programs have been devoted to preserving
A=
bout half
of the RTS daily Television programming is made up of popular music clips,
almost all of which come from griots. In fact, the RTS is more biased toward
griot music than the music market in
A=
dvertising
is another area in which griots are prevalent. As in a traditional village,
when a business or the government wants to transmit a message to the public=
, it
is often a griot that they choose. This is partially because many griots ha=
ppen
to be the popular stars who have celebrity appea=
l, but
also because lesser known griots have a way of getting people's attention
through speech or music. The biggest advertising blitz I saw in
T=
he
government also undertook a major publicity campaign before the elections to
inform the people that they needed to make sure they were properly register=
ed
to vote. This campaign included dozens of different spots featuring well-kn=
own
griot popular musicians such as Youssou Ndour, Thione Seck, Mathi Thiam Dog=
o,
and some griot rap groups. The campaign also featured non-griots such as Ba=
aba
Maal.
O=
ther
publicity campaigns sought out more traditional griots, who
drummed and yelled in typical Wolof-griot fashion. Mbaye Dièye Faye,
Youssou Ndour's sabar* player, appeared in an
advertisement for the Lo.Na.Se (Lotterie Nationale du Séné=
gal,
National Lottery of Senegal), accompanied by a group of sabar and
yelling, "How much do you want to win? Thirty
million?" A spot featuring a similar group of drumming and yell=
ing
griots appeared frequently on television to invite the public to attend the=
big
wrestling match of Tyson and Toubabou Dior. In all of these advertisements,=
the
griots' relentless rhythm and loud, rap-like speaking effectively captured =
the
audience's attention and conveyed a sense of excitement.
A=
random
look at cast lists confirms the claim that film actors are likely to be gri=
ots.
A newspaper article on the film TGV by director Moussa Touré
mentioned two famous Sorano actors, Oumar Seck and Josephine Mboup, in a li=
st
of six of the film's principal actors (Cissé 6). Another article adds
griot actor Isseu Niang to the list, and several of the other actors have n=
ames
that sometimes designate griots, such as Diouf and Ndiaye (Faye 15). Of
fourteen principal actors in Momar Thiam's 1990 film Baks, five had =
the
exclusively griot names Mbaye, Samb, Niang, or Seck, while two had the like=
ly
griot name Ndiaye (Thiam, cover). On the other side of the camera, film
directors in
Griots in popular =
music
W=
e have
saved for last the area in which griots* have most distinguished the=
mselves
in recent years in the public eye, earning superstar status and becoming
perhaps the most talked-about members of Senegalese society. Unlike Senegal=
ese
film, Senegalese popular music makes itself a constant presence through vid=
eo
clips on national television, several radio stations devoted exclusively to
Senegalese music, a huge cassette market, nightclubs in every small and lar=
ge
town, and countless concert venues throughout
I=
n spite of
these griots' high standing in society, they have preserved the ambivalent
status of their grandparents. Unlike American pop stars, griot musicians are
not the dream spouses of teenagers. Young Senegalese who had large collecti=
ons
of cassettes and posters of their favorite griot popular musicians on their=
walls
told me that they would not consider marrying even the richest and most fam=
ous
griot singer. Most told me that they would not even marry
T=
he vast
majority of popular singers are griots. Of the dozens of singers with casse=
ttes
in commercial circulation today, I only knew of a handful of non-griots: Om=
ar
Pène, Ismaël Lô, Cheikh Lô, Baaba Maal, and Mbaye
Ndiaye. Musicians who play Western instruments such as guitar, keyboard, or
drums come from a slightly more varied caste background than the singers.
Looking at the names of performers listed on an album cover can give us an =
idea
of the minimum number of griots we can count, although those with non-griot
names could also be griots. For example, of the thirteen musicians on Youss=
ou
Ndour's
T=
he
prevalence of griots in popular music has made traditional aspects of griot=
ism
ubiquitous in popular music, even when the performer is not a griot. Each
popular concert I saw included praise songs, many of them in the form of lo=
ng,
improvised recitative passages sung over a long ostinato. During these
passages, the lead singer would often invite notable griots or other perfor=
mers
from the audience to come add a word of praise to someone. Even though this
recitative performance was traditionally the exclusive practice of griots,
non-griot performers have adopted it and use it quite often, as it is a
characteristic of Senegalese popular music in general.
D=
uring a
concert by a Senegalo-European band called "Wock" (a contraction =
of
"Wolof*" and "Rock")=
, the
griot singer, Pape Abdou Seck opened began one such recitative session.
O=
ne
interesting occurrence of this recitative practice was in a Diapason
series concert given at Ndour's Thiossane club by Thione Seck. Seck invited
Ismaël Lô, a non-griot, to come on stage sing. Lô took the
microphone and did an admirable griot impression:
Thiono, Thiono, Thiono, Thiono, Thione . =
. .
I've come to honor you, Thiono, Thiono, Thione, Seck!
Let's sing! That's how they made life, so it would be easy,
bita-bañ bita-bañ bita-bañ.
I've noticed, Thione, Thione, you're a good big brother for me,
so wherever you call, I'll go.
Because of you, I've been trying to "play the griot" (ng&eacut=
e;wëlal).
I pray for you, Thiono.
I=
witnessed
non-griots on several occasions sing similar praise songs. The laudatory
aspects of griotism have become an integral part of Senegalese popular musi=
c.
M=
ost
popular griot singers in
M=
oving from
traditional or semi-traditional music to modern music is often seen as step=
up
and is the preferred destination of many singers. Dial Mbaye, who has recor=
ded
a cassette with her folklore group and whose video clips appear occasionall=
y on
RTS Television, is "saving up to buy Western instruments" so she =
and
her group can play modern music (Panzacchi 201). Not all who play in folklo=
re
groups do so because they lack the means to do "better." Thione S=
eck
has two groups: a modern group called Raam Daan,=
and a
folklore group that sometimes plays in the first half of his programs (Dia =
2).
However, many see the more expensive and modern world of popular, modern mu=
sic
as much more glamorous than traditional and semi-traditional music.
E=
ven so,
the use of traditional elements in music is much more respected and actually
sought after today than it was in the decades following independence. Popul=
ar
music in the 1960s and '70s showed a much lower amount of traditional conte=
nt
than popular music today. Instead of sabar*, most groups used only West=
ern
percussion, and musicians borrowed the songs and styles from other areas,
especially
|
|
|
Fig.
6. |
![3D"Fig.](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image006.jpg")
A=
musician
who proved instrumental in bringing elements of traditional music into popu=
lar
music was Youssou Ndour. He began his career in Latin-inspired music but
gradually incorporated more Wolof rhythms, vocal style, instruments, and
subjects into his music. Ndour based most of his music on a group of
traditional dance rhythms called mballax*. Because of the prevalence =
of these
rhythms in Senegalese popular music, the term mballax has been adopt=
ed
to refer to any music today that uses the sabar, and more particular=
ly
to popular music. Some recent bands, such as the Super Cayor de Dakar, have
swung the pendulum back in recent years with a style called "Salsa-Mba=
llax*."
Y=
oussou
Ndour's unique blend of Wolof rhythms and Western-style melodies has made h=
im
by far the most admired Senegalese singer of the late '80s and '90s. Like m=
any
Senegalese popular ensembles today, he has retained the brass from the Latin
ensemble and the standard Western electric guitar, bass, keyboard, and drum=
set.
However, prominent in the ensemble are tama* player Assane Thiam and =
sabar
player Mbaye Dieye Faye, who also contribute occasional non-melodic yells.
Also, supporting Ndour's highly lyrical vocal style is backup vocalist
Ousseynou Ndiaye, who adds a thicker, more Wolof sound.
Y=
oussou
Ndour is prominent in the music scene in
E=
ven though
Youssou Ndour is commonly regarded as the most "evolved" of griot
popular singers in his dependence on sales rather than on patrons, his songs
still demonstrate qualities of the traditional praise-song. His 1997 casset=
te St.
Louis contains tributes to various people from Senegal's former capital,
St. Louis, and the title track, Ndar (the Wolof* name for St. Louis) praises=
the
city in general:
Receiving guests and welcoming guests,
That is what Ndar does well.
If you have [money], go there.
If you have not, go there-
that won't keep them from welcoming you.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A long time ago I heard great things about the sunset at Ndar,
but when I went there, what I saw surpassed what I expected.
The little, little child in Ndar recognizes his elders.
The little, little son of Ndar knows how to pray.
The little, little son of Ndar knows hospitality [teranga].
I=
t may be
difficult to imagine an entire city patronizing a griot, but that is exactly
what happened when Youssou Ndour visited
S=
ome of
Ndour's songs more closely resemble traditional praise songs for individual
patrons. "Birima," on the Lii ("this one") album,
praises the hospitality of dozens of Ndour's friends and patrons:
Buri Samba Laobé, this one's for y=
ou.
Oh, Birima, where I spend the day, I spend the day,
there I spend the day drinking [well-received].
Damel Meïssa Tendé Dior, Dioro Dioro Dioro Dioro.
Oh, my friend, no one
reproaches you. . . .
[He lists 21 people with little commentary]
Fatou Mbaye Aziz knows the way to go,
Oh, Birima, where I spend the day, I spend the day,
there I spend the day drinking.
N=
dour also
uses griot praise song to praise the people of
Here are the warrior men, the farmers,
They farm the rice, they farm the millet that we eat.
When it is hot, they await the rain
Witness, witness the warriors.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
If there's a lot of rain,
If there's no rain,
Whatever the case, it's too harsh.
Witness, witness the warriors.
I=
ronically,
although this song compares géer farmers to warriors, it spea=
ks
of their lives as difficult and impoverished, not as glorious and rich, as
traditional praise songs did. Youssou Ndour shows us the effects of mass
culture, which allows multitudes, and not just a rich aristocrat or trader,=
to
patronize an artist on a large scale. Much of today's popular music has
retained the laudatory qualities that arose with aristocratic griotism but =
has
replaced noble patronage with the patronage of the masses. In a way, though=
, a
mass audience does not qualify as patronage in the traditional sense of the
word, since the vast majority of transactions between griot and audience
utilize market mediation and have a set price.
|
|
|
|
![3D"Fig.](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image007.jpg")
N=
ext to
Youssou Ndour, Fatou Guéwel Diouf is
H=
er
patronage is also evident in the subject matter of her songs, almost all of
which are praise songs or have significant laudatory sections. Although as a
woman, Fatou Guéwel cannot take on the lifestyle of a Baay-Faal*, she dedicates many of her =
praise
songs to important Baay-Faal and Murid* figures. The religious cont=
ent of
her songs seems to be an important reason for many people's devotion to her=
and
her music. "Cheikh Ibra Fall," one of her most famous songs in 19=
98,
was named after Cheikh Ibrahim Fall (c. 1858-1930), Cheikh Amadou Bamba's m=
ost
loyal follower and founder of the Baay-Faal movement. In a another song, "Kara," she praises S&eum=
l;riñ* Modou Kara, a Baay-Faal<=
/i>
marabout*:
You are like me, Modou Mame Marème=
.
Ndamal Darou is your grandfather
That's right, Modou Mame Marème.
Listen, Murids. Listen to me, Murids.
Listen, today I'm singing the father of Dame
as I sing Mame Cheikh Ibra Fall,
the model of Kara.
I=
noticed
that in concerts, many of the most significant gifts came during these Murid
praise songs. She names another song after and dedicates it to Yacine Mbaye,
daughter of the Great Griot Mansour Mbaye, showing that anyone influential =
or
rich can be a patron and object of praise:
Yacine Mbaye, Yacine Mbaye,
I sing for you and send this to you:
The time will never come when you will not be kind.
I called you, yes, Yacine Mbaye,
in truest truth, no one is better than you.
I=
n a way,
this song actually praises Mansour Mbaye, who helped Fatou Guéwel st=
art
her career by inviting her to sing on RTS Television. The expression "=
in
truest truth" ("ci dëgg-a-dëgg") is a trademark of
Mbaye, and her use of it here pays tribute to him. In a concert filmed for =
RTS
Television near the beginning of Guéwel's career, Mbaye sat on the s=
tage
accompanied by a xalam* and related Guéwel's=
family
history and spoke her praises. They have long had a mutual relationship of
praise and support.
I=
ncorporating
traditional elements such as praise singing, traditional instruments, and
traditional rhythms is the nearly universal norm in Senegalese popular music
today. Even Pape Niang, a blind griot jazz singer and drummer whose Ray Cha=
rles
covers verge on pure imitation uses mballax* to accompany his American-i=
nspired
jazz. Although foreign styles such as Salsa, rap, and Western dance music a=
re
increasing in popularity, even these foreign styles are incorporating these
traditional elements more than ever before.
Conclusion
G=
riots'
contributions to Senegalese traditional arts are innumerable, and their
continued presence in and influence on modern arts is much greater than many
admit. No one doubts that griots' art has lost much of what it possessed
traditionally; the sophisticated musical and verbal traditions that were so
highly developed in traditional times are disappearing, and sometimes all t=
hat
remains is a tendency to beg. There is a genuine concern in
A=
t the same
time, however, griots have both maintained many traditional functions and f=
ound
new functions through adapting to modern situations. Even though society,
economics, and politics have all been redefined in the past century, griots
have remained relevant. Modern education has attempted to advance a cure to=
the
disappearing art of traditional griots as well as to offer modern griots
competition, but current economic hardships and pedagogical shortcomings are
limiting the contributions of education to the Senegalese performing arts.
Notable exceptions include educational programs in drama, broadcasting, and=
, to
an extent, singing.
T=
he new
media of television, radio, and recording, as well as new performance
opportunities in concerts, plays, traditional ballet, and large sporting ev=
ents
have provided new opportunities for griots. Even though the number of
professional griots is dwindling, these large modern performance contexts a=
nd
mass media have helped the smaller number of modern griots stay at least as
prevalent as they were in traditional society. Where they remain prevalent,=
the
elements of their traditional art are still present: they maintain reciproc=
al
relations with patrons through their art, even when its scale is massive.
D=
espite the
wishes and claims of many progressive-minded Senegalese, griotism as a
profession and social class is far from disappearing. Even though their role
has changed to meet the demands of modern society, griots have remained hig=
hly
visible and indispensable all the same. Furthermore, it appears that they w=
ill
maintain their importance for a long time to come.
Notes
and Works Cited
Notes
1 =
Griot:
a French term designating a variety of native terms, pronounced "gree-=
o."
2
Italicized terms are in Wolof unless otherwise noted, since Wolof is the
I=
n Wolof,
the consonants b, d, f, k,
m, n, p, s, t,
w, and y are pronounced approximately as in Englis=
h.
The single r is lightly rolled, and l is pronou=
nced
near the tip of the tongue, as it is in French. C is a quick =
/ty/ sound, similar to the Engl=
ish ch,
and j is a quick /dy/ sound, similar to the Engl=
ish j.
G is always hard, as in "green." &Ntil=
de;
is /ny/ as
in "senior," and ì is /ng/ as in ring, as oppo=
sed to
ng, in which the g retains its hard sound. <=
i>X
is similar to the German ch, as in "ach-laut.&quo=
t; Q,
the most difficult sound for English speakers, is like =
a very
guttural k. Single consonants are very light, and can be almo=
st
inaudible at the end of the word, whereas double consonants are strong.
S=
ingle vowels
are usually very short: a, as in the English "on&=
quot;;
e, as in "set"; é, as in
"ate"; ë, as in "put";=
i,
as in "sit" when between two consonants and otherwise as in
"glee"; open o, as in "of";
closed ó, as in "owner"; and u<=
/i>,
as in "room." Single vowels are all stressed equally, exce=
pt
the à sound, which is short like the other sounds but =
more
articulated. Double vowels lengthen the sound but do not significantly alter
it.
I=
n the
Mande dialects (principally Mandinka; Maninka, the language of the Malinke;=
Bambara;
and Jula), consonants are similar to those of English, except that c=
is
pronounced like the English /ch/. Vowels generally follow the above
rules for Wolof but are not as short. An n following a vowel =
in
Mande combines with the vowel to form a single nasalized sound. Mande is a =
dual
terraced tonal language; a grave accent designates a low
tones (as in sì-"to sleep"), while an acute
accent designates a high tone (as in kún-"head") an=
d a
circumflex designates a rising tone (as in bâ-"goat"=
).
Thus, ñàmàkálá is pronounced with=
two
low tones followed by two high tones.
3 =
The name
of a region pronounced twice in Wolof designates someone from that region. =
For
example a Baol-Baol is someone from Baol, and a
Ndar-Ndar is someone from the
4 =
IFAN: Institut
Fondamental d'Afrique Noir Cheikh Anta
5 =
Adding -kat
to the end of a noun or a verb makes a word that signifies a person who
practices a certain occupation or activity. Thus, a xalamkat is one =
who
plays the xalam, and a beykat is one who farms.
6 =
This and
subsequent quotations from Senegalese recording artists were transcribed and
translated by Kisma Sakho and the author.
7 =
Badr: a
famous battle in 624 between the Muslim community led by the Prophet Muhamm=
ad
and the Meccans. The Muslims, outnumbered three to one, fought with legenda=
ry
courage and defeated the Meccans. This battle was a turning point for early
Islam and is often cited as a standard of bravery and strength (Denny 75). =
The
song compares Mohammed Ndao to the warriors in the battle.
8
Médina: neighborhood in
Works
Cited<=
/o:p>
B=
ocoum, Hamadi.
Personal interview.
Camara =
Laye. Le
Maître de la parole. Paris: Plon, 1978.
Camara,=
Sory.
Gens de la parole: Essai sur la condition et le rôle des griots dans =
la
société Malinké. Paris: Karthala, 1992.
Ciss&ea=
cute;,
Alassane. "TGV de Moussa Traoré: le gros plan arrive.&qu=
ot; Sud
Quotidien 15 Apr. 1998, 6
Denny, Frederick Mathewson. An Introduction t=
o Islam,
Second Edition.
Dia, De=
mba S.
"Concert-anniversaire de Thione Seck: La nuit des défis
revelés." Walfadjri 18 May 1998, 2.
Diabat&=
eacute;,
Massa Makan. L'assemblée des djinns. Paris: Présence
Africaine, 1985.
Diawara,
Alassane. "Le Sénégal s'appauvrit." Le Soleil
7-8 Mar. 1998, 5.
Diop, Abdoulaye-Bara. La
société wolof: Tradition et changement, les systèmes
d'inégalité et de domination. Paris: Karthala, 1981.
Diop, M=
omar
Coumba and Mamadou Diouf. Le Sénégal sous Abdou Diouf:
état et société.
D=
urán,
Lucy. "On Music in Contemporary
F=
age, J. D.
A History of
F=
aye,
Abdallah. "Premi=
ère
de TGV le 29 avril à Sorano: Moussa Touré: 'je me suis battu =
pour
montrer le film à Dakar.'" Le Soleil 23 Apr. 1998, 15.
G=
uèye,
Mamadou. Personal interview.
J=
atta,
Sidia. "Born Musicians: Traditional Music from the
J=
ohnson,
Marian Ashby. "He Who Strikes the Anvil: Goldsmiths in the Caste Socie=
ty
of
K=
eïta,
Cheick M. Chérif. Massa
Makan Diabaté: Un griot mandingue à la rencontre de
l'écriture.
Knight, Roderic. "The Style of Mandinka Music: a Study in Extracting Theory from Practice." Selected Reports in Ethnomusicology 5 (1984): 3-66.<= o:p>
-=
--.
"Vibrato Octaves: Tunings and Modes of the Mande Balo and Kora.&quo=
t;
Progress Reports in Ethnomusicology 3 (1991): 1-49.
Mbaye, =
Ousmane.
"Saloum Saloum de Bada Seck: L'hommage aux Kaolackois."
Niane, =
Djibril
Tamsir. Soundjata, ou l'epopée mandingue. Paris: Prése=
nce
Africaine, 1960.
P=
anzacchi,
Cornelia. "The Livelihoods of Traditional Griots in
Modern
R=
oden,
Christina. "Pape Seck: a Remembrance." Roo=
tsworld.
Available
http://www.rootsworld.com/rw/feature/seck.html. Internet. Accessed 9 Nov. 1=
997.
Sagne, =
Mamadou.
"Sana Dramé, un adepte du folk-mbalakh." Le Soleil 6
Mar. 1998, 10.
Sarr,
Abdourahmane. "Forage-Moulin: le Dialy nouveau est arrivé!"=
; Le
Soleil 6 Mar. 1998: 9.
S=
chaffer,
Matt. Mandinko: The Ethnography of a West African
Semb&eg=
rave;ne
Ousmane. L'Harmattan. Paris: Présence Africaine, 1980.
Senghor,
Léopold Sédar. Oeuvre Poétique. Paris: Editions=
du
Seuil, 1990.
S=
ow Fall, Aminata. L'appel des arènes. Dakar: Nouvelles Editions Aficaines du Sénégal, 1997.
Thiam, =
Momar. Le
cinéma au Sénégal de 1900 à 1995.
Y=
oung,
Crawford. The Politics of Cultural Pluralism.
<= o:p>
Glossary
Baay-Fall. Wolof: "Father Fall.&q=
uot; A Murid society whose members strive to emulate the devotion =
of
Cheikh Ibra Fall, Amadou Bamba's most devout follower. The Baay-Fall
began primarily as peanut cultivators but today are
known mostly as travelling beggars and musicians.
bàkk. Wolof: a rhythmic motif that represents a person, family, clan, or
group of people.
balafon
(Mandinko: bàló, Malinke and Bamaba: bàlá).
Xylophone, made of wooden planks with calebash resonators underneath, played
all over
Bamana (Bambara). A
Mande subgroup living principally in
B=
amba
(Mbacké), Cheikh Amadou (c. 1850-1927). Founder of the Murid
brotherhood, by many accounts
bambaado. Fulbe griots who often play the tama=
or hoodu (xalam).
Baol=
. Region =
of
F=
all,
Cheikh Ibrahim (c. 1858-1930). Most prominent follower =
of
Cheikh Amadou Bamba Mbacké and role model of the Baay-Fall.
fìná. Mande: a caste of praise singers, jesters, and servants formerly
distinct from jèlí but now largely absorbed into the <=
i>jèlí
caste.
Fulbe (Fulani, Fula, Peul [pël], Fuladu).<=
span
lang=3DEN-GB style=3D'mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'> Nomadic=
ethnic
group inhabiting much of
gawlo.
A Tukulóor griot. Als=
o, a
member of a sub-caste of Wolofized Tukulóor griots.
géer. Wolof: the nobles, members of the landowning caste.
géwël. Wolof: a member of the griot caste.
griot
(gree-o). French: a member of a hereditary professional caste of praise
singers, historians, musicians, and orators in many West African societies.=
Haal-Pulaar. Pulaar: Designation for all=
who speak
the Pulaar language, including the Fulbe, Tukulóor, and Lawbe.
hoodu.=
Pulaar:
xalam.
jaam. Wolof: slave.
jëf-lekk. Wolof: those who eat (win th=
eir
bread) by deeds. Ñeeño group inclu=
ding
all the artisan castes and excluding the géwël and the <=
i>ñoole.
jèlí (Mandinko: jàlí). Malinke and Bamana: griot.
jembe (jènbé).
Drum played throughout
Jolof. Region =
of
southeast of
jôn. Mande: slave.
Kajoor. Region =
northeast
of
kònín. Maninka: xalam.
kòntíngo. Mandinko: xalam.
kora.
Twenty-one-stringed harp-lute, made of a large calabash with a protruding
wooden neck and fishing-line strings, played by griots of the Mande groups.=
Lawbe. Pulaar-=
speaking
ethnic group who function mostly as woodcutters. They have supplanted
the traditional Wolof woodcutters, the seeñ.
Lebu=
. Original
inhabitants of the Cap-Vert, the cape on which
maabo.
Haal-Pulaar caste, some of whom have been assimilated into Wolof society, that includes tama-playing griots and =
some
weavers.
Malinke. Mande ethnic subgroup living mostly in southeastern
Mandinko.
Mande ethnic subgroup living mostly in Casamance (south=
ern
Maninka. The language of the Malinke, one of the Mande languages.
marabout.
(Wolof: sëriñ.) Any Islamic spiritual
leader. Marabouts wield considerable political and social influence =
in
mballax.
Traditional dancing rhythm that dominates much of today=
's
popular and semi-traditional music. Also refers to any popular or
semi-traditional music that uses the sabar.
Murid (Mouride). The
most visible and second-largest Islamic brotherhood in
ñàmàkálá. Mande caste group that inc=
ludes artisans
and praise singers. Generally equivalent to Wolof &n=
tilde;eeño.
Ndar=
. Traditi=
onal Wolof
name for
ñeeño. Wolof caste group that includes artisans and praise singers. Generally equivalent to Mande ñàmàk&a=
acute;lá.
ngòní. Bamana: 1) xalam. 2) (also ka=
malen
ngoni) A large pentatonic harp-lute played by non-griot Bamana and Fulbe
hunters in
ñoole. Wolof: A caste of praise singers, jesters, and servants formerly
distinct from géwël but now largely absorbed into the
Pulaar (Fuladu,
Fulani). The language of the Fulbe, Tukulóor, and Lawbe.=
rább. Members of the cloth weaver caste, now largely
non-existent. Also, a pious Muslim griot who has=
given
up griotism to serve a marabout.
Radio et
Télévision du Sénégal (RTS). The national radio and telev=
ision
station of
riiti.
One-stringed violin played mostly by non-griot Sereer and Fulbe (Pulaar:
Saalum. Region =
of
sabar.
A family of long Wolof drums characterized by large tun=
ing
pegs protruding from the neck. Includes the n=
der
(high solo drum), mbëìmbë&ig=
rave;
(mid-range drum), lamb and goroì talmbat<=
/i>
(bass drums), and several other varieties. By fa=
r the
most common instrument in
sab-lekk. Wolof: "Those who eat (win their bread) by chattering." =
Wolof caste group including griots and ñoole.
seeñ. Wolof: woodcutters. Now largely non-existent a=
s a
caste, replaced by the lawbe.
Sereer. Ethnic =
group
inhabiting mostly the Siin region south of
sëriñ. Wolof: marabout, spiritual leader.
Siin=
. Region =
of
tama. Wolof: talking drum. Small hourglass-shaped drum held under th=
e arm,
regulated by squeezing with the arm, and played with one empty hand and a
curved stick.
tëgg. Wolof: members of the smith caste. Includes
blacksmiths (tëgg bu ñuul) and goldsmiths (tëgg =
bu
weex).
Tijaan (Tidiane). Largest and olde=
st
Islamic brotherhood in
Tubaa (Touba). Birthplace
of Cheikh Amadou Bamba Mbacké, capital and pilgrimage site of Muridi=
sm.
Tukulóor.=
Pulaar-speaking ethnic group living mostly in northeastern
uude.
Wolof: members of the leatherworkers' caste.
Waalo. Region =
east of
Wolof. Predominant ethnic group of
xalam.
Wolof: small lute, usually with four to six strings, played by griots of
several ethnic groups in
<= o:p>
Griots
Introduction
I=
n Senegal,
as in many other parts of West Africa, a caste of people called ``griots''
(pronounced ``gree-o'') perform many roles, including singing, speaking
publicly, playing instruments, reciting history, telling stories, and
entertaining. As members of a caste, griots usually only marry other griots,
and their status and occupation is inherited. Although there are many diffe=
rent
private musical traditions in
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![3D"A](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image009.jpg")
Although griots are often said to be the lowest caste (below smiths,
leatherworkers, woodcutters, and weavers), most Senegalese highly value the
history, arts, and entertainment that they provide. Even today, almost all musi=
cians,
television and radio announcers, and stage actors are griots. The griotR=
17;s
primary function is to preserve history and to praise the deeds of his or h=
er
patrons. Musical instruments are used primarily to aid in performing these
other tasks, although they are also used for entertainment.
A=
ny
traditional gathering (marriage, child naming ceremony, etc.) is incomplete
without a corps of griots. They speak on behalf of and about each family
involved, provide the entertainment, and approach all the guests, praising =
them
and often asking them for money.
D=
espite
their unenvied social status, griots are generally quite happy with their
monopoly and would probably not be interested in trading places with people=
of
other castes. In addition, even Senegalese who look down on griots admit th=
at
the Senegalese owe much of their cherished and unique culture to griots. Pe=
ople
who would never associate closely with griots hang posters of superstar gri=
ot
singers like Youssou Ndour, Fatou Guéwel, and Thione Seck on their
walls. A significant proportion of Senegalese traditional music, history,
legends, epics, and tales come to us through griots. [To listen to some griot mp3's, click her=
e]
Traditional
Griots=
G=
riots in
pre-colonial society performed several vital functions and continue to perf=
orm
many of these functions in the more rural and family settings.
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![3D"A](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image010.jpg")
E=
ven more
than today, pre-colonial griots were responsible for transmitting messages
through their words or through communicative drum beats on the sabar=
or tama.
If the king or village chief had an important message to convey, he would c=
all
his griots to summon the villagers using their drums, and then then he would
whisper his message to the griot, who was trained to deliver messages loudly
and clearly. Griots often report that they were also the counsellors and
confidants of the kings. (For examples of royal griots, read the Epic of
Sunjata, as told by Camara Laye in Master of the Word or by D.T. Nia=
ne
in Sounjata, ou l'épopée mandingue.)
G=
riots are
known as the chroniclers of every event. Instead of participating actively =
in
village affairs, they witness and mentally record the deeds of every person.
Traditional griots are genealogists and can tell anyone in the village
extensive information about who their ancestors =
were,
where they were from, and what they had accomplished. Most of the deeds gri=
ots
recounted are good ones, for they want to get on their patrons' good side to
ensure generous compensation. However, many people are generous to griots n=
ot
only out of gratitude for good words, but also out of fear that a griot will
say negative things about them.
W=
hen I ask
people about the main functions of traditional griots, the first thing almo=
st
everyone tells me is that griots marched into war beside the warriors and
recorded their feats. They were a great motivation for the warriors, who kn=
ew
that the griots would return and tell the whole village whether or not they=
had
lived up to their vows of courage.
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These young griot women are
singing to entertain the guests at a family's naming ceremony. |
![3D"Griots](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image011.jpg")
G=
riots
were, and are still to a large extent, the principal organizers of social
events for their patrons' families. They make sure the food is prepared, th=
at
the proper people are notified, and that the entertainment is adequate.
T=
he
function of griots that remains most important for most Senegalese today is
their role as entertainers. A lengthy section of each traditional event is =
set
apart for the griots to sing, dance, tell stories and jokes, and play their
musical instruments. During this time, they also make their rounds to each
member of the audience to praise, joke, or tell recite genealogy. In exchan=
ge,
they ask (sometimes persistently) for something in return.
Semi-traditional Griots
Griots in "Folklore" Performing Arts=
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S=
ince the
advent of colonialism and urbanization, many of the contexts in which griots
performed have disappeared. As a result, most people from the griot caste no
longer practice any form of "griotism." However, some griots have
modified the content and form of their performing art to make it survive in=
new
contexts. These semi-traditional performers, including musicians,
dancers, and stage actors, have kept many of the traditional elements, such=
as
instruments, singing style, and subject matter, while adapting their art fo=
r a
large audience and incorporating modern content. Even though semi-tradition=
al
musicians usually use only traditional instruments, they often combine
instruments and styles that would never have been heard together traditiona=
lly.
Dancers transform village dances into "ballets" designed for thea=
ter
audiences.
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![3D"Korité](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image013.jpg")
B=
y far the
most famous semi-traditional performing groups are the national troupes of =
the Théatre National Daniel Sorano. The Theater is home to thr=
ee
troupes, including the Ballet National, the Troup National Dramat=
ique,
and the Ensemble Lyrique Traditionnel. All of these groups synthesize
traditional performing arts from
![3D"Singer](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image005.jpg")
Several "folklore" singers, who=
add
their own socially relevant lyrics and somewhat modernized accompaniments to
traditional melodies, have become immensely popular. Ndiaga Mbaye is the mo=
st
famous of these singers today, and people are so familiar with his renditio=
ns
of traditional songs that they often give him credit for composing them.
The
"Great Griots" and their Successors
M=
any
Senegalese, especially the older generation, worry that before long, the great traditions of the griots will disappear
entirely, leaving us with nothing but begging and shallow popular music.
Although one might consider this fear to be based on nostalgia, I believe it
has some merit. There are plenty of young griot musicians today, but few ha=
ve a
deep understanding of their instrument's background or the intricacies of i=
ts
playing methods.
A=
round the
time of independence, rural and urban Senegalese were all familiar with a
circle of legendary griots who appeared often in
radio, television, recordings, and concerts at the Théâtre
National Daniel Sorano. These griots were members of the Association=
des
Grands Griots. Of the three survivors - El Hadj Mansour Mbaye, El Hadj =
Mada
Seck, and El Hadj Samba Diabaré Samb - only Samb is still a traditio=
nal
performer. Mansour Mbaye is a television announcer and Mada Seck, the former
drum major of President Léopold Senghor, has given up the sabar for
radio announcing. The musicians in this group all used to play in the Ensem=
ble
Lyrique Traditionel at Sorano, and their recordings, solo and in small grou=
ps,
were commonly heard on the radio and later on television.
O=
ther
members of this group included xalam players Abduolaye Nar Samb, Ama=
dou
Ndiaye Samb, and Abdoulaye Socé (the father of my xalam teach=
er);
kora players Lalo Kéba Dramé and Sundiulu Cissokho; and balaf=
on player
Bana Kanoté.
B=
oucounta
Ndiaye, from the generation following Samb, may offer Senegal some hope for=
a
future of classical xalam playing, although many Senegalese hesitate=
to
put him into the same legendary category as Samb. He devotes his music most=
ly
to his patrons and to the leaders of the Islamic Murid brotherhood.
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![3D"Xalam](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image014.jpg")
<=
![endif]>![3D"Xalam](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image015.jpg")
Modern
Griots=
Everyday
Griots=
E=
ven though
many of the contexts in which griots played such an important role in
traditional times have disappeared, many griots still have plenty of work to
do, in both traditional and novel situations. Some Senegalese insist that in
today’s egalitarian world, it makes no difference whether or not one =
is a
griot. True, I knew a handfull of people from inter-caste marriages. Also,
Baaba Maal, Omar Pene, and Ismael Lo--all non-griots--have made it big in
music. Still, an overwhelming majority of musicians today are griots, and I
have yet to meet a professional sabar player who is not a griot or a Baa=
y-Fall
(see the
H=
ere are
some of the griots who still perform much as their ancestors have performed=
for
centuries:
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![3D"A](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image016.jpg")
![3D"Griots](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image017.jpg")
![](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image018.gif")
![3D"A](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image019.jpg")
![3D"A](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image020.jpg")
<=
span
lang=3DEN-GB style=3D'font-size:8.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#444400;mso=
-ansi-language:
EN-GB'>As in any important celebration, griots take turns going around to
each member of the audience, praising them and asking them for money. This
woman is holding her earnings as she praises one of the guests.![3D"A](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image021.jpg")
![3D"Madiodio](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image022.jpg")
<=
span
lang=3DEN-GB style=3D'font-size:8.5pt;font-family:Arial;color:#444400;mso=
-ansi-language:
EN-GB'>This is a griot from the Lebu ethnic group, which is closely
related to the Wolof. He claims that he knows the history of Rufisque bet=
ter
than any other griot--a claim that may have at least some validity, since=
the
Lebu are the original inhabitants of the Griots
in Popular Music
Popular Musicians
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G=
riots
dominate popular music in
G=
riots in
popular music tend to follow a pattern in their careers: they usually start=
at
a young age performing at small family events with their griot families and
moving from there to small local "orchestras," or semi-traditional
performing groups. They then come to Dakaar and get more public recognition
through singing with the prestigious Théatre National Daniel Sorano. Record producers keep a cl=
ose eye
on Sorano, and the performers who score high points with the audience may be
invited to tour with a popular group and eventually tour and record on their
own. Of course, it is very difficult for non-griots to get on this track.
H=
ere are a
few of today's most well known griot musicians:
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Charismatic singer Youssou Ndour h=
as
been |
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Phenomenally successful singer Fat=
ou
Guéwel blends traditional and modern elements. Her praise songs ha=
ve
made her a favorite of rich patrons, and like a true griot, she regularly
makes her rounds to weddings and social gatherings of the wealthy.=
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![3D"Youssou](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image023.jpg")
![3D"Thione](3D"PeopleofWord_bestanden/image024.jpg")