I have never seen so many smiling faces emerge from a gig in a long time. The reason for the happy faces was the joyful and celebratory sound of Amadou and Mariam. Eclipse was a concert set in complete darkness and was presented as part of the Manchester International Festival. Eclipse allowed Amadou and Mariam to perform and allow audiences to ‘hear music as we do and imagine what it looks like’. The musical duo is from Bamako, Mali and met at Mali's Institute for the Young Blind.
The concert was played in complete darkness. The situation placed everyone in same position, beginning with finding a seat in near darkness. Eyes still not adjusted, listening to the instructions of the volunteers, linking arms with my friend, we got seated and until the next instructions I remained quite still. Your attention is focused on working out the environment around you (the larger than normal gaps between the seats) and the anticipation of what was to unfold. All the while a background sound of birds singing and was that the sound of a gentle breeze?
Complete darkness now and out of it a voice, the narrator, who began telling the story of Amadou and Mariam. The music began to play, the distinctive sound of the guitar of Amadou and then the sound of Mariam’s voice, all accompanied by a larger band (but how many players?). The sound is uplifting and joyful; the story is positive and celebratory.
The story of Amadou and Mariam was told as a celebration, their love of music and of each other (several songs including Mon Amour, Ma Cherie) and their increasing success and popularity beginning in Mali and spreading around the world. What band can claim such collaborations as Damon Albarn and David Gilmour, playing for Barak Obama and at the World Cup in Africa?
The stillness of the audience, that I could detect, was replaced by clapping along in time to the music, hesitantly at first of course, there was no visual cue from the band or other audience members. Although I’ve been to many a concert that is seated, I normally have a foot tapping or have bit of a boogie in my seat. What was the protocol here, if I move too much will I knock the person sitting next to me, I can apologise to my friend but what about the lady on the other side? Regardless, I had a little chair dance, how could I not it was such good music!
After a while I realised that I didn’t need my glasses and I can clearly hear many African instruments, the percussion drums seemed clearer than at any concert I have been to before. In one song Mariam sings, ‘kiss me baby, I love you’ and I realise I have such a big grin on my face, not just because I understand the words (songs are sung in French) but because the message is clear and I wonder what the rest of the audience are doing or feeling?
Finally a blue light begins to shine and revealed is the stage and the source of the wonderful music is clear before us (with nine members of the band). The crowd went wild, quite literally, the clapping and cheering only stopping for a final tune. In the end the crowd roared and stomped their feet for more, the band appeared eventually for one more bow but as they say always leave ‘em wanting more’ and that’s exactly what they did! We emerge into the bright summer evening light, the smiling faces of a happy crowd all around.
It is said to try and learn you should ‘put yourself in the shoes of others’, in this case of the blind musicians from Mali it is difficult. I could certainly hear and began to imagine what music looks like; music was used to remove barriers, make you stop, think and gave us a very uplifting experience.
You can hear and find out more too: http://www.myspace.com/amadouandmariam
Their biography: Away from the light of day, Route Publishing.
MIF: http://mif.co.uk/
