The consistently excellent Verucchio Festival takes place every year in picturesque open air venues in a small hilltop town near Rimini in Emilia Romagna. The varied line up this year with two concerts a night includes Blonde Redhead, Seth Lakeman, José Gonsalez and an electronic night with BJ Neilsen & Hildur Gudnadottir.
The must see for me this year was Toumani Diabaté whose virtuoso kora playing I’ve long admired. He’s now 42 and on something of a roll through his contribution to three superb records for the World Circuit label. His duet with the late great Ali Farka Touré ‘In the Heart of the Moon’ won the Best Traditional World Music Album Grammy Award in 2006. In a different vein was as part of his Symmetric Orchestra for the more dance orientated ‘Boulevard de l’Indépendance’. This year he released his first solo album for 21 years with the sublime Mandé Variations.
The kora is a 21 string harp unique to West Africa . During the performance he explains that this amazing instrument is made from a calabash fruit (or African gourd) covered in cow skin and demonstrates how it is played using just four fingers, playing first the bass, then the melody, then the improvised passages.
I was expecting a lyrical and meditative performance but after two beautiful solo pieces he is joined by a full band which includes his son, also playing the kora, and his brother Kasse Mady Diabaté on vocals. Other instruments – piano, bass, guitar and drums – add a jazzier and more westernised flavour to the traditional songs.
Coming from a long line of prestigious griots, Diabaté has the majestic air of an enlightened dictator – sitting centre stage conducting his group and nodding approvingly during their star turns. He doesn’t stand or dance himself, he probably doesn’t much anytime but tonight this was a necessity as he is walks on stage with the aid of crutch due to some problem with his right foot.
The unforgiveably sparse audience at Verucchio are warm although a little reserved. For the encore Toumani Diabaté has to remind us that we “are not at the office” and, better late than never, we are on our feet.
It was a treat to see a giant of African music at such an intimate space.
I envy you profoundly: I saw Mamadaou Diabate at a festival this year in a small tent late at night: we sat six feet from him: spellbinding, and eevn more so when I realised he wasn’t even using most of his fingers.