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Call and response
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by ERIN MACLEOD Lorraine Klaasen is no stranger to Montreal audiences—she has lived in the city for two decades—but her home is South Africa. For the daughter of jazz phenom Tandie Klaasen, music has always been firmly planted in her native soil, but it has been nurtured by the styles, cultures, and languages of her adopted city. the Mirror spoke to Lorraine Klaasen, fresh from winning a Planet Africa Award for her contribution to arts, culture and music, about her new album, Africa Calling, and the music she holds dear. Mirror: Africa Calling seems to announce the beginning of a new era for you. Lorraine Klaasen: I would say so. For all these years, I have singlehandedly promoted my music. For the first time, a record company [Justin Time Records] came on board. So it makes it a little bit easier for me to concentrate on the music part of it instead of being worried about all the other things that would take away my time for creativity. Also, the musicians that participated in this record are indigenous South African musicians. For instance, my producer, Mongezi Chris Ntaka, was Lucky Dube’s music director. The company said, “Whatever you want, we’re there for you!” This was lucky for me. I know I make good music, I’m a good performer, but I never had a great product. M: You speak of authentic music from South Africa, and your music is referred to as “township music.” LK: When you hear this new CD, you will hear the sounds of the ’50s and the ’60s. Both my producer and I come from that generation, from that era. He understands what I am trying to say. When I say “township music,” it’s a sound that you know right away is South African. It comes from the history of the country, when the white people moved the black people to Soweto. This is when this movement started in the ’60s. M: How do you feel about more recent South African music, like kwaito for instance, which also had its genesis in Soweto? LK: This is what makes South Africa special. Young people like American music—hip hop. It’s like when I was young, I liked American music. But what’s happening is that they are creating their own style of music, kwaito, through copying the American music. And they are getting a lot of airplay. Every time I go home, there is always a new artist. Yes, sometimes it’s like bubblegum—you chew it for the sugar and when it’s done you spit it out, but it’s exciting. Music played a very important role in the struggle in South Africa and it continues to do that. Young people still want to tell their stories. There are still issues. M: How does this history, this culture, this music connect with Montreal? LK: Here they make a big deal about me singing in many languages, but in South Africa, people are often singing in four or five different languages. I speak nine. In my song “La Reine,” there’s a lot of Haitian rhythms in there. The song, for me, it rides the rhythm of kreyòl, but also other Caribbean and South American sounds, without losing my African rhythm. I’ve learned so much from the people that I have played with. I do enjoy experimenting, but I always make sure that my musical focal point is Africa. I share my culture with other cultures, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to leave my culture. AT KOLA NOTE ON SATURDAY, |
