BLACK MOTION – LIVE FROM CONSTITUTION HILL
Considered as the new Mecca of house music, and more specifically of deep house and afro house, South Africa is full of talent, including this duo from Pretoria: Black Motion.
Night had fallen on Constitution Hill in Johannesburg, South Africa when the duo took the stage. To commemorate the African diaspora on the occasion of Black History Month in February, Qwest TV co-organized an event - in support of the association Bridges for Music (click here to donate) - in this former prison, in which heroes like Mandela and Gandhi were locked up within its walls, now converted into a museum of the country’s road towards democracy and which also hosts the Constitutional Court.
Black Motion is the association of Bongani Mohasana aka DJ Murder and percussionist Thabo Mabogwame aka Smol, an original supercharged collaboration that earned them international recognition in 2010 thanks to the hit "Banane Makovo," in collaboration with the late Jah Rich. This was followed by four studio albums, one of which, Fortune Teller (2014), won a gold record and spearhead status on the African electronic scene. 2018 definitively established their reputation with “Pray for Rain,” a track that has spun extensively on the turntables of Ibiza and around the world.
Focused on percussion, Black Motion's set transports us to jazz with a horn section in the style of Fela Kuti (the Kristoff MX track "About Woman"), then skilfully switches to a Masters At Work-influenced house, and Latin influences at more acoustic or downright minimal moments. A real eclectic treat on a background of beat house and percussion, of course!
HUGH MASEKELA
This concert is a wonderful testament to the talent, commitment, and generosity that flowed through the veins of Hugh Masekela, who passed away in January 2018. Five years earlier, at the Paris Jazz Festival, the South African trumpeter and singer appeared with a fantastic group (notably guitarist Cameron Ward) and a repertoire of his own standards, including "Bring Him Back Home", which became an anti-Apartheid anthem in 1987, and one of the most beautiful versions of "Coal Train" (Stimela) ever heard, as well as "Lady", composed by his friend, Fela Kuti.
Hugh Masekela was 14 when he picked up his first trumpet in a Johannesburg township, before showing such a gift that Louis Armstrong himself sent him an instrument from the United States. Since his career began in the end of the 1950s, side by side with Miriam Makeba, who would become his wife, his music–from jazz to pop by way of a range of African expressions–tirelessly accompanied the struggles of his people, despite his forced exile from 1960 until Nelson Mandela’s release in 1990. This fervent activism was a tight thread from the beginning to the end of this radiant concert. But the party was never far away. Hugh Masekela, whose enthusiasm burned into your retinas, displayed an infectious enthusiasm that brought the audience to its feet several times. It was love, and when he left the stage, everyone wanted to hug him.
RAY CHARLES -LIVE IN PARIS SALLE PLEYEL
Known for his rhythmic sequences, Ray Charles is also an outstanding melodist. As such, excerpts from his Parisian concerts at the Salle Pleyel highlight his complete approach to music. We get demonstrations of the catchy "The Bright Lights And You Girl," or with the monumental "Georgia On My Mind," a track where the Albany native sings his Southern heritage. Supported here by a formidable band, and in particular by the much sought-after Billy Preston on the organ, Ray Charles redoubles his energy in unison with the vocal quartet The Raelets. The audience is also privy to the phenomenon of "Tell All The World About You," from What'd I Say. Or again with "A Tear Fell," the gospel track where the genius sings his heart out like never before. “Eleanor Rigby" is a tour de force, recycling the Beatles' baroque arrangements into a different but equally effective soul format. Also, the version of "What'd I Say" is a hallucinating call and response extravaganza. It’s something to be seen over and over again.
A personal note from Quincy Jones:
Ray Charles was the best friend I could’ve ever dreamed of having. We met right after I moved to Seattle as a kid & I quickly learned he never allowed his limitations to be limitations. A titan of a musician, & he would tell me that music was a gigantic gumbo to be stirred, not something to be put into different bags. It was one of the most important lessons I ever had the pleasure of learning...seeing Ray’s outlook made me realize that it’s only when we stop confining ourselves to the restrictions that categories place on our creativity, that we can fully unlock the power of music in its purest form. And THAT is exactly what the spirit of my streaming platform Qwest TV, a channel that celebrates everything from bebop to soul to Indian ragas, was built on. So, please enjoy his performance.
PACO DI LUCIA – SHADE AND LIGHT
How did a guitarist who was obsessed with flamenco since childhood come to jazz? Michael Meert constructs an intimate portrait of Paco de Lucia (1947-2014). The archive images date back to his first television appearances. His family’s accounts remind us of the genius for whom the public wanted a prize to be created when there wasn’t one for someone his age. Each time period is punctuated by hand-clapping—”palmas”—that recalls flamenco’s rhythmic motifs. As a child, he woke to the sound of this music because the whole family played it, and he learned the guitar from his father, his brother Ramon, and then in the street. The family didn’t have the resources to send him to school, and flamenco was also a struggle for life in the working-class neighborhood of Algésiras where he was born. He owes his stage name to his mother, because the nickname Paco was common in the streets of Madrid. Being Lucia’s Paco was a way to differentiate himself.
The man claims to have hidden his shyness behind his instrument, but he would have liked to be a singer. An excerpt shows him in 1976 with Camarón de la Isla, his alter ego who passed away in 1992. “Flamenco is afraid of death,” he said. “This music is the will to live. It’s life.” The iconic titles “La Barossa,” “Jerez,” “Soleá,” and “Entre dos Aguas” remind us of the master, of his virtuosity. However, Paco de Lucia would take the risk of jazz and face making a bad impression by learning onstage and finding himself in competition with other musicians. In 1987, in Fribourg, with John McLaughlin, you could feel the tension, and then the unexpected happened, a special treat. “When you improvise, you have to know the harmony you are playing, without knowing which one you will be playing in a few minutes. It’s difficult to describe.”
