tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14321589779561193672024-03-15T00:19:35.091-07:00Jewish Maghrib JukeboxRare music, travel, and other thoughts on the Jewish Maghrib.Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.comBlogger194125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-57943129505573943142017-10-24T13:00:00.000-07:002017-10-24T13:00:18.297-07:00Launching Gharamophone.com and retiring Jewish Maghrib Jukebox<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">After many years, I am quietly retiring my blog "Jewish Maghrib Jukebox" (and formerly "Jewish Morocco"). But not to fear! Not only will I keep "Jewish Maghrib Jukebox" live –– and so too the many hours of music –– for as long as it makes sense, I have at the same time launched a new effort at <a href="http://gharamophone.com/">Gharamophone.com</a>. The site –– the first online archive of its kind –– is dedicated to "preserving North Africa's Jewish musical past, one record at a time."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And for our first post on Gharamophone.com, we have something special: an impossibly rare Salim Halali tango from 1945. I strongly suggest you take a read and a listen: <a href="https://gharamophone.com/2017/10/23/salim-halali-je-tappartiens-tango-pathe-c-1945/">https://gharamophone.com/2017/10/23/salim-halali-je-tappartiens-tango-pathe-c-1945/</a>.</span></div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com288tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-14587374159199082202016-10-09T09:58:00.001-07:002016-10-10T20:10:46.709-07:00Chanting Kol Nidre in Tunis: The Sounds of Yom Kippur from a Half Century Ago<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the subject of the Yom Kippur chant “<i>Kol Nidre</i>,” a
Tunisian record sleeve from the 1960s reads, “Every Jew must listen to it with
feeling.” As Yom Kippur is upon us and now that I have digitized Nathan Cohen’s
“<i>Kol Nidre</i>,” I invite all readers of this blog to do the same.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/286859432&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
There seems to be something novel about a Tunisian record
label – “En Nour” – remarking on “<i>Kol Nidre</i>” (meaning “All my vows), reminding
Jews to listen to the solemn chant, and distributing such a record in the heart
of Tunis and other cities. But let us recall that as late as the mid-late 1960s,
this was, in many ways, par for the course. When this recording was made, for
instance, Jewish musicians Acher Mizrahi, artist-composer-cantor, and Raoul
Journo, among the pioneers of modern Tunisian song, were still living in
Tunisia.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nathan Cohen, credited on the record, has appeared before on
this blog. Four years ago I posted his stunning Arabic rendition of <a href="http://jewishmorocco.blogspot.com/2012/04/singing-go-down-moses-in-judeo-arabic.html" target="_blank">Had Gadya</a>. Cohen,
we recall, was also a frequent collaborator of the Benghazi-born Tunisian artist
<a href="http://jewishmorocco.blogspot.com/2015/04/of-tunisian-jewish-saints-stambeli-and.html" target="_blank">Doukha</a>, who passed away in December 2014 and who I wrote about in April 2015. Together
the two formed part of the Tunis-based “<i>cinq chanteurs</i>” (the five singers),
which included the musician Clement Hayoun. (On a quick side note, Doukha’s
family is posting some incredible black and white and sepia-toned photos from
his early career on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Doukha-Chanteur-Populaire-Judeo-Tunisien-137803356257977/?fref=ts" target="_blank">his Facebook page</a>. I strongly encourage you to check out.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nathan Cohen’s “<i>Kol Nidre</i>” intrigues for many reasons.
First, it constitutes a rare glimpse into the sonic world of Tunisian Jewish
religious life in the 1960s. Second, it seems that the main chanter on this
recording is not Nathan Cohen but another artist – or <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>rabbi or cantor or combination of all three.
Cohen, it should be noted, does respond throughout the recording and in doing
so, adds a certain spirituality to an already intensely spiritual chant. Third,
we are treated to instrumental accompaniment on music that normally would not
receive such treatment. Fourth and finally, this version of “Kol Nidre” helps
shine a light on the “En Nour” record label on which it was released and which seems
to have specialized in Tunisian Jewish music throughout the early independence
period.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is more to say but for now I leave you with a taste of
what Tunis sounded like more than half a century ago on the eve of Yom Kippur. Wishing
everyone a good holiday, an easy fast, and a better year.</div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com171tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-36040011166925972952016-05-12T11:06:00.001-07:002016-05-12T11:06:23.788-07:00Tickling the Ivory in Tunisia: Messaoud Habib and the 1928 Columbia Records Sessions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc2ooEDxWvOkuV9ZwHgqS3yb4mK5OXGJSsEiaFHhyechWxU-OuEFq-MOmRYJFKQCdPkj5PAK8lcsL7OU7CXe6z3JBTBJgHUORW3Lig6wrnpTHvwrUmNg4HcHXUlfyDfLjv_x8GBGM5CgEz/s1600/MessaoudHabibDalila.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc2ooEDxWvOkuV9ZwHgqS3yb4mK5OXGJSsEiaFHhyechWxU-OuEFq-MOmRYJFKQCdPkj5PAK8lcsL7OU7CXe6z3JBTBJgHUORW3Lig6wrnpTHvwrUmNg4HcHXUlfyDfLjv_x8GBGM5CgEz/s320/MessaoudHabibDalila.jpg" width="245" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>(L-R, Messaoud Habib, Dalila Taliyana, Acher Mizrahi, Paris c. 1930)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For much of the first half of the twentieth century, the
name Messaoud Habib was synonymous with Tunisian music. Indeed, Messaoud Habib,
described in his day as “the greatest North African pianist,” maps
fascinatingly onto the history of Tunisian music from his debut in the 1920s
through the end of his career in the 1950s. Proficient in piano, organ, and harmonium,
Habib’s career would begin at a moment when that brand of Western instrument
was on the ascendant and end with the re-entry of the qanun into Tunisian music.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn8wrRgA6McKg4U5w3MiylQAfa64wI86KeW9qNBDLw9_jODLtSfFVM10Eu6g5x1pOaLhpnCqBUdVCyBUUqNpr1XWRqsJAIlD0AgaF-psZSjB1LxBk7bzKFjaCUM4V4jwZ8IQjacmeJxY3S/s1600/MessaoudHabibPianoRoll.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn8wrRgA6McKg4U5w3MiylQAfa64wI86KeW9qNBDLw9_jODLtSfFVM10Eu6g5x1pOaLhpnCqBUdVCyBUUqNpr1XWRqsJAIlD0AgaF-psZSjB1LxBk7bzKFjaCUM4V4jwZ8IQjacmeJxY3S/s320/MessaoudHabibPianoRoll.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Messaoud Habib on player piano scroll. Released by the Bembaron firm.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Messaoud Habib was nothing if not prolific. Pick up any
Tunisian record with piano in the first half of the twentieth century and
you’ll find the Jewish artist tickling the ivory. His dexterity served him well
at a moment of expanding musical tastes across the Maghrib. Thus Habib was
equally comfortable serving as head of the Beylical orchestra as he was
accompanying the artist Babi Bismuth on a series of Jewish paraliturgical recordings
made for Pathé in the 1920s. To give you but a sense of his scope: Messaoud
Habib recorded nearly every musical genre of the era - from tango to ghaita -
on nearly every label of the time – including Pathé, Columbia, Polyphon, Odeon,
and the local Bembaron label – with every major Tunisian recording star of the
day – from Habiba Messika to Khailou Esseghir to Bachir Fahmy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Habib, in fact, was not just an instrumentalist, but so too
an impresario. During the interwar period, the pianist served as artistic
director for Pathé in Tunisia along with his coreligionist and orchestral
leader Kiki Attal. Being the visionary that he was, Habib was also responsible
for discovering a young Raoul Journo – before rushing him into Bembaron to
record his first sides – recordings long lost to time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/263806564&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
That it is difficult to find Messaoud Habib records is a
given. This, of course, often means that he’s forgotten or overlooked. But as
you’ll hear on this Columbia side, an unmetered improvisation, a taqsim
recorded 88 years ago this month in a rather cavernous space in Tunis, Messaoud
Habib deserves our attention. Messaoud Habib should be written back into the
music history of the region and remembered as he was nearly a century ago: as
(one of) the greatest of North African pianists.</div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com51tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-54335823821380982802016-04-17T17:26:00.001-07:002016-04-17T17:31:37.759-07:00The Album Artwork of North African Passover LPs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Pulled a few Maghribi Passover albums from my collection in advance of the Passover holiday. More music coming this spring. Chag Sameach!</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilOLJ2Gb1nn-pKgCs_-ct5RRQ-9aEkKSpx6kZzCA9fqxj2_yhhI45QmU19O1d6zgs6SxO_4kA1DRwvTtbGblHbd5jNm0mn_82Wjm6Aa0pUvvD8nN9berojG-7N1e0ZIl9-gsAUSI57FHzv/s1600/IMG_0201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilOLJ2Gb1nn-pKgCs_-ct5RRQ-9aEkKSpx6kZzCA9fqxj2_yhhI45QmU19O1d6zgs6SxO_4kA1DRwvTtbGblHbd5jNm0mn_82Wjm6Aa0pUvvD8nN9berojG-7N1e0ZIl9-gsAUSI57FHzv/s400/IMG_0201.jpg" width="397" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6F9DvG3PxIHorjzwQ_8e-KX2k1AAZk9AFEcuiFenBKCMipQ-BZXMtfxOTyXNxb_w7gIcpXvn4hN0AayARl4YNIHYmxMy_Zt1_VZdJtkqMNTMKQRjctaV7QhJRP-INF-kwVse4TkzHetnP/s1600/IMG_0200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6F9DvG3PxIHorjzwQ_8e-KX2k1AAZk9AFEcuiFenBKCMipQ-BZXMtfxOTyXNxb_w7gIcpXvn4hN0AayARl4YNIHYmxMy_Zt1_VZdJtkqMNTMKQRjctaV7QhJRP-INF-kwVse4TkzHetnP/s400/IMG_0200.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu_ycx9O1qLrfnlNmDA4n7okHcPngg5TX4jBc0f6vpeja55PJFTUt4RiOSShBYSGUu9jOyk_yjmI6JbPzODeC7JU0dPzYC9PvHZ53b6zMChWdCaZOQRtQKtfE1FRzSSqi9zoQsnMVzDeCo/s1600/IMG_0202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu_ycx9O1qLrfnlNmDA4n7okHcPngg5TX4jBc0f6vpeja55PJFTUt4RiOSShBYSGUu9jOyk_yjmI6JbPzODeC7JU0dPzYC9PvHZ53b6zMChWdCaZOQRtQKtfE1FRzSSqi9zoQsnMVzDeCo/s400/IMG_0202.jpg" width="387" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-38412323366251766832015-12-13T11:08:00.002-08:002015-12-13T11:08:45.261-08:00Forget Your Worries: A 1930 Recording of El Moutribia, Algeria's premier Andalusian orchestra<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
span.uficommentbody
{mso-style-name:uficommentbody;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9hUKNs5mzyL-YA99b25bpkQhgsM3qd-OISF0LSfkWJTKuTLNJ7SJJXv4-sjFVkftNQ5PDQ0YKwd0om2l_BOCgC9ymeJ_h3aZBx9BbHR4bxGiFFCOHhnRbHh_9sTB8jclW9QcmL_g-xhbE/s1600/Kespi.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9hUKNs5mzyL-YA99b25bpkQhgsM3qd-OISF0LSfkWJTKuTLNJ7SJJXv4-sjFVkftNQ5PDQ0YKwd0om2l_BOCgC9ymeJ_h3aZBx9BbHR4bxGiFFCOHhnRbHh_9sTB8jclW9QcmL_g-xhbE/s320/Kespi.JPG" width="182" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>(R) Kespi in Berlin. 1929.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Ok, friends. For the last night of Hanukkah, we’re going to
listen to something truly special. This record, in fact, comes from the same
catalogue as the <a href="http://jewishmorocco.blogspot.com/2015/12/hatikvah-in-tunis-rare-1930s-recording.html" target="_blank">Tunisian Hatikvah</a> recording which kicked off this whole "eight
North African Youtube rarities in eight nights" adventure.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Until 1930 or so, Algeria’s Andalusian orchestras were
overwhelmingly Jewish and its most popular was El Moutribia. El Moutribia was
founded by Algerian musical impresario Edmond Nathan Yafil in 1911, later
conducted under the direction of Joseph Kespi, and presided over by the one and
only Mahieddine Bachtarzi through the interwar period. El Moutribia set the bar
for Algerian music for much of the first half of the twentieth century and
brought those sounds to neighboring Morocco and Tunisia and to France and Italy
via life performances which included dozens of vocalists and instrumentalists - and
then to the entire world via disc. These recordings, until recently, have been all
but impossible to find.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/vXOBIVLWiHA/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/vXOBIVLWiHA?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What better way to end this series, then, with El
Moutribia’s performance of "Selli Houmoumek" (Forget your worries) recorded
under the direction of "cheb" Joseph Kespi for the Gramophone label on <span class="uficommentbody">December 19, 1930? As the chorus starts up, try imagining yourself in Algiers' famed National Theater. I think you'll be happy.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="uficommentbody">One final thought as we round out
this series. Perhaps we can find small solace in the fact that this record and
the others I’ve been posting have somehow survived for nearly a century despite the odds (time + war
+ dislocation + transport across continents…and the list goes on). These discs
serve as reminders of what once was and what was once possible. If we can “forget
our worries” or our fears for just a moment, maybe we can start making music
again together.</span></div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com57tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-44304418211581263452015-12-12T10:49:00.001-08:002015-12-12T11:27:53.516-08:00Between Yesterday and Today: Petit Armand and the performance of North African music in Israel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOLvd3Czo594FQBpaLIb0jb-sJj2NuPmqiLBEWZ4jv7n2y3U-AzW5AowDsYIZ5XMZNoPb3rO9hsT3oAXr5cPc8ulqh7UKEEmlABrSTgPcsop-HLMZsa3zvnNCxUSWqDc_zA-YYYGg91XzI/s1600/PetitArmand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOLvd3Czo594FQBpaLIb0jb-sJj2NuPmqiLBEWZ4jv7n2y3U-AzW5AowDsYIZ5XMZNoPb3rO9hsT3oAXr5cPc8ulqh7UKEEmlABrSTgPcsop-HLMZsa3zvnNCxUSWqDc_zA-YYYGg91XzI/s1600/PetitArmand.jpg" /></a>When I first began to get drawn into the world of North
African Jewish musicians, I often wondered (sometimes aloud) about the fate of
Arabic-singing musicians in Israel. For the second to last night of Hanukkah,
we listen to the sounds of one of those musicians: Petit Armand.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Petit Armand, sometimes referred to as Ptti Armo, Ptti Armon, or even
Patti Armo, was born Armand (Amram) Peretz in Casablanca (?), Morocco in 1936. He
began singing seriously at the age of 18, joining up with famed Jewish qanunist
Salim Azra and performing at the still stately movie theaters of Casablanca at mid-century.
Although it's unclear if he recorded throughout the 1950s and 1960s, he certainly
made a name for himself both in the Maghrib and in France as he toured some of
the larger venues at home and abroad. In 1967, Petit Armand, like many Moroccan
Jews, made the move to Israel. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Petit Armand was a specialist of Salim Halali’s repertoire.
This was not uncommon for his generation of vocalist. Not only did Petit Armand
give close study to Halali but so too to Samy Elmaghribi, and other greats of
the Maghrib. The result was often a Maghribi musical intertextuality that
leaves the listener grinning from ear to ear. Take a listen to Petit Armand’s
“l’Oriental,” recorded for the Azoulay brothers in 1970. Here Petit Armand
gives us a beautiful take on the song originally written by Youcef Hedjaj, recorded
famously by Line Monty and later by almost everyone - from Lili Labassi to Enrico
Macias. And then, at the eight-minute mark, Petit Armand launches into Spanish
and a Spanish-inflected mawwal, dips into Salim Halali’s "Sevillana" and "Rit
ezzine" before dazzling us with one more pass at l’Oriental.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/voedubq_a_c" width="560"></iframe><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want to also include a live performance of Petit Armand so
that you can see the man in action. Here he is in Israel doing a killer cover
of another Salim Halali hit: “Bin el barah ouel youm.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/wGWTjBXRR7I" width="560"></iframe><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Finally, for those who weren’t aware, Petit Armand also
happens to be the father of Kobi Peretz, mainstay of the Mizrahi scene. Last
year, the two did a very musika mizrahit take on Samy Elmaghribi’s “Omri ma
nensak.”<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Y1dh2mJJ9TA" width="560"></iframe></div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-89910876559691679522015-12-11T11:04:00.001-08:002015-12-18T14:50:26.004-08:00From Secular to Sacred: Rabbi David Buzaglo, Samy Elmaghribi, & Paul Bowles' 1959 Field Recordings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The blurring of secular and sacred lines that was North
African music in the twentieth century is an absolute delight. Melodies
intended for coffee shops and cabarets soon made their way into religious
spaces. For the sixth night of Hannukah, we’ll dig into that phenomenon in the
form of a wonderfully scandalous song that was soon adopted for synagogue use.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.darnna.com/08/souvenirs/ohelmoshemeknes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.darnna.com/08/souvenirs/ohelmoshemeknes.jpg" height="200" width="320" /></a></div>
In 1959, American author and composer Paul Bowles made a
series of field recordings in Morocco for the Library of Congress. Below,
you’ll find a recording he made in the Benamara synagogue in Meknes in December
of that year. Bowles set out to capture what he called “the musical antique
shop” of Jewish liturgical music - in theory, a timeless, ancient tradition.
What he found (unbeknownst to him) was the early twentieth century liturgical
poetry of Rabbi David Buzaglo, in this case, "El hay ram gadol," set to the early
1950s tune of Samy Elmaghribi’s “Qaftanec mahloul” (Your robe is open, my
lady). Again, unwillingly, Bowles managed to capture on disc the swiftness that
Moroccan secular music was adapted for synagogue use.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
First, take a listen to Bowles’ 1959 recording of El Hay Ram
Gadol in Meknes:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/o1kG1NoSLaI" width="560"></iframe><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Next, listen to Algerian artist Blond Blond’s cover of
Samy Elmaghribi's "Qaftanec mahloul." As you’ll note, the two pieces employ the same melody - with
Blond Blond speeding things up just a tad. Toggle back and forth and you’ll be
quite happy.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/j4vyJaQpD5w" width="560"></iframe><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
You can hear more of this blurring on the excellent <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sacred-Music-Moroccan-Various-Artists/dp/B00004S5E7/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1449860380&sr=8-1&keywords=sacred+music+of+moroccan+jews" target="_blank">“Sacred Music of the Moroccan Jews”</a> (edited by Edwin Seroussi, with the assistance of Rabbi Meir Atiya - the men who first brought all of this to our attention) put out by Rounder records in 2000. Hag Sameah and Shabbat
Shalom!</div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com229tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-1408960259235117142015-12-10T16:47:00.001-08:002015-12-11T08:25:53.952-08:00Who was Smarda el Olgia? A microhistorical account of Rachel Hayat and her 1935 recordings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
A year and half ago, our friend Thomas at the <a href="http://ceintsdebakelite.com/2014/03/13/march-selection/" target="_blank">Ceints de bakélite</a> blog put up an exquisite piece of malouf music by a seemingly unknown
Tunisian artist by the name of Smarda el Olgia. After a bit of digging around
my own collection, some sorting through archives, and a turn to some published
sources, we can begin to piece together a few biographical details for Smarda
el Olgia - as well as the circumstances that led to this recording.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/139268503&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiauuHu1SXNANdyTylFiOeyyEXgd30MRxnVWVn-q4AlDGN2DirasVLzg8iMjHaLnruVvqtcJq9IXVbsChVWOzyUaj7LIbRECxOKnb9BPGVSBQE9U8Kr8CU0M5m3dkARNjV4TI-E5kPP_pBG/s1600/IMG_9555.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiauuHu1SXNANdyTylFiOeyyEXgd30MRxnVWVn-q4AlDGN2DirasVLzg8iMjHaLnruVvqtcJq9IXVbsChVWOzyUaj7LIbRECxOKnb9BPGVSBQE9U8Kr8CU0M5m3dkARNjV4TI-E5kPP_pBG/s320/IMG_9555.JPG" width="273" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Rachel Hayat (Sitbon)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Smarda el Olgia was born Rachel Sitbon in Tunis in 1892. She married Israel-Eugene Hayat and
thus became known as Mrs. Rachel Hayat (Sitbon). In addition to being a fixture
of Tunisian Jewish high society, presiding over a number of charitable
organizations, she was also very well regarded among practitioners of the
eastern Algerian and Tunisian classical Andalusian tradition known as malouf.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Throughout the end of the 1920s and the 1930s, patrimony
became the watchword across the Maghrib. In large part it was fear of Egyptian
music’s popularity that caused French colonial figures and indigenous musical
impresarios to leap into action. Thus, institutions dedicated to safeguarding
Andalusian music in all of its local forms, as well as committed to protecting
Moroccan, Algerian, and Tunisian musical traditions more broadly constructed,
were established. One thinks of the erection of the conservatory in Rabat, the
formation of orchestras like El Djazairia in Algeria, and of course, the
emergence of La Rachidia in Tunis in 1934. As part of this effort, Emile Gau,
Director General of Public Instruction and Beaux-Arts in Tunisia, concerned
that the suites associated with malouf were in danger of being lost (a common
trope and no doubt influenced by the work of Baron Rodolphe d’Erlanger and La
Rachidia), commissioned Rachel Hayat to make a series of malouf recordings in
Paris in order to preserve Tunisian heritage in perpetuity (take a close look
at the label and you’ll see much of this background come alive). And in
September 1935, Rachel Hayat (Sitbon), under the name Smarda el Olgia (Smarda
or Zmarda was a common Tunisian Jewish name), performed that task beautifully -
recording this and dozen or so other records.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
P.S. There is always a bit of serendipity in writing these
posts. In the course of putting this one together, I discovered that Rachel
Hayat’s daughter may have lived in Los Angeles for much of her life - and even
been involved in a bit of a Hollywood-esque scandal. I’m still gathering
details but will keep everyone posted. Hag Sameah!</div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-51443279499490037182015-12-09T09:23:00.001-08:002015-12-09T09:23:52.515-08:00A Rose By Any Other Name: La Jeune Ouarda (Warda) sings "Ya Oummi"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For the fourth night of Hannukah, I bring you the earliest recording of the classic, "Ya Oummi." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Like their Ashkenazi counterparts, North African Jewish musicians
sang songs to honor their mothers. "Ya Oummi" (Dear Mama), written, composed, and
eventually recorded by Tunisian-born Youcef Hedjaj (aka José de Suza), was one
of those songs. While Algerian Jewish chanteuse Line Monty is most closely
associated with Ya Oummi - and indeed, her version is stunning, she was not the
first woman to record it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That distinction went to a young, up-and-coming
Muslim vocalist who then went by the stage name of la jeune Ouarda (<i>al-fattat
Ouarda</i>). Yes, before she went from Ouarda to Warda, before she appended al Jazairia
(the Algerian) to her name, and before she left Algeria and married Egyptian
composer Baligh Hamdi, la jeune Ouarda committed a beautiful version of Youcef
Hedjaj’s Ya Oummi to record. For those who know the stately Warda, I think you'll be blown away by her teenage self.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rWhvEGOCuOY" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You can compare to Line Monty's iconic take here:<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bQnWfM_-97Y" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And you can hear Youcef Hedjaj not only singing Ya Oummi here but also providing us with the details of just how popular the song was (in French).<br />
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/DJ3YDNBKhbk" width="420"></iframe><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since that time we have been blessed with a number of remarkable
covers, including this by young Israeli Moroccan artist Neta Elkayam (with
exquisite piano by Amit Hai Cohen).<br />
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/6RsG-kNm7Lo" width="560"></iframe></div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-48118393483339318412015-12-08T08:01:00.004-08:002015-12-08T08:40:52.454-08:00Banned! Tracing the Journey of a Lili Labassi Disc from Release to Censorship in the late 1930s<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the third night of Hanukkah approaches, I bring you one of my favorite records from Algeria (a disc which happened to enjoy a tremendous amount of success in Morocco - as you'll soon see).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We begin again with a question and a mystery. Did Lili Labassi, among the most popular of interwar
Algerian recording stars, sing clandestinely about Moroccan political exile
Allal El Fassi on his now difficult to find “Lellah yal ghadi lessahra” (O you,
who is going to the Sahara)? According to French colonial authorities in late
1930s and early 1940s Morocco, he most certainly did. As a result, his Polyphon
disc (issue number 46.117) was subjected to repeated ban throughout the
Cherifian Empire in 1938, 1939, and 1940. To the French, his lyrics read as nothing
less than subversive…and served as nothing less than a reminder to Moroccans to
keep Allal El Fassi in their hearts. He was after, “still alive” (mazal hay
mazal):</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“O you who is going to the land of the gazelles!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you find my love (ghazal/gazelle)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tell him: He’s.. he’s still alive (mazal hay mazal)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No one can replace him in my heart…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2McV1vHRblbGU6kyMJfFWbZj4aYEeG2t_swHQYv5tIsE6mEM7QNn9zXRAta6LibG7FXi5i-eo4fe_dfP8_MgXpEwHShxakOEu4iyCdfYyMTQ8GuwEkLVFfV4zBEHQATju8m9WFCqDWcWA/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-12-08+at+7.14.00+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2McV1vHRblbGU6kyMJfFWbZj4aYEeG2t_swHQYv5tIsE6mEM7QNn9zXRAta6LibG7FXi5i-eo4fe_dfP8_MgXpEwHShxakOEu4iyCdfYyMTQ8GuwEkLVFfV4zBEHQATju8m9WFCqDWcWA/s320/Screen+Shot+2015-12-08+at+7.14.00+AM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Lili Labassi re-release on Philips</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But to most Moroccans at the time, the ambiguous “he” was
heard as “she” - as is common in much of North African music (think: male
singers longing for their <i>habibi</i> and not <i>habibti</i>). Thus, “he’s still alive,”
was understood as “she’s still alive” (mazal hay mazal) and no one could
replace “her in my heart.” In fact, in the massive search and seizure efforts
undertaken by the French to find the Labassi disc, police discovered the record
time and again in the brothels of cities like Casablanca, Rabat, Fez, Meknes,
and Agadir. Why? Because Labassi’s “O you who is going to the Sahara,” was a
love song (and seemingly a song to make love to as well).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Almost eighty years since its first ban, Labassi’s original
is hard to come by. Despite the fact that it was released again on
Polydor/Polyphon and also on Phillips, few copies remain. What we do have,
however, is a version of “O you who is going to the Sahara” recorded by the inimitable
Blond Blond, Lili Labassi’s musical disciple, which as you’ll hear, is
fantastic, pulsing, and damn-near danceable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WrObiHuLgYg" width="420"></iframe><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
One question remains, of course. Did Lili Labassi know that
any of this was happening? Well, take a listen to his similar “Mazal
haï mazal” (She’s still alive), released on the Pacific label in the 1950s and
recently uploaded by Jon Ward on Excavated Shellac. Mazal haï mazal contains
many of the same elements of “Lellah yal ghadi lessahra” although this version
seems to lay any fears of political subversion to rest.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://excavatedshellac.files.wordpress.com/2008/10/labassi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://excavatedshellac.files.wordpress.com/2008/10/labassi.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<object height="50" width="300"><param name="movie" value="https://freemusicarchive.org/swf/trackplayer.swf"/><param name="flashvars" value="track=https://freemusicarchive.org/services/playlists/embed/track/13081.xml"/><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="sameDomain"/><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="https://freemusicarchive.org/swf/trackplayer.swf" width="300" height="50" flashvars="track=https://freemusicarchive.org/services/playlists/embed/track/13081.xml" allowscriptaccess="sameDomain" /></object><br />
<br />
What is clear, however,
is that Labassi’s song, first released in the mid-1930s, retained its
popularity through the 1950s and some might argue until today.</div>
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/KpsQQutwOqs" width="560"></iframe><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Blond Blond performs Lellah yal ghadi lessahra live. Note: song is listed as "mazal hay mazal."</span></i></div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-79374949833850727982015-12-07T08:06:00.001-08:002015-12-07T08:07:38.895-08:00"If You Ain't Got No Money": Louisa Tounsia sings about marriage<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I mentioned in my last post, I’m going to be putting up
one of my favorite North African rarities from Youtube once a day for the duration
of Hanukkah. As we enter evening two of the holiday, we’re going to stick with
Tunisia.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/I_6xr6Ag7Kw" width="420"></iframe><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
This mid-1930s Louisa Tounsia release on <i>Polyphon</i> should
remind us that North African music was more than just <i>malouf</i> or other
variations of the Andalusian classical suite (although these traditions were and are no
doubt incredibly important). Part and parcel of the repertoire of the Maghrib’s
Jewish (and Muslim) musicians were popular songs on topical subjects. Written
by Maurice Benäis, Tunisian Jewish vocalist, lyrcist, and orchestral leader
extraordinaire, and performed by Louisa Tounsia, "Ma fiche flous" (literally, “there is
no money,” but loosely translated by me as, “If you ain’t got no money”) in
many ways narrates the changing status of women in early twentieth century
Tunisia. In "Ma fiche flous," Tounsia gets to decide who she’s going to make her
husband and as she says in the chorus, “If you ain’t got no money, then we
ain’t got words, honey.” But for the man who can provide, Tounsia reminds, he
may have more than a few options (“If you got nice threads, then you got
yourself your choice of beds.”).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8EmevP67n_kpPEgv4wV0dyNY3YCIU66NzEMbt_88zq2OaFE8AgnLxYf0DAfjuFWYqyWh5XJ5gbVkLHCL_E5DU5NTaYltuuRQtgJvTjnHUBhWc5enewecmtet2YhH4ZA2Uqyt4oCqLGOJj/s1600/LouisaTounsia-jug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8EmevP67n_kpPEgv4wV0dyNY3YCIU66NzEMbt_88zq2OaFE8AgnLxYf0DAfjuFWYqyWh5XJ5gbVkLHCL_E5DU5NTaYltuuRQtgJvTjnHUBhWc5enewecmtet2YhH4ZA2Uqyt4oCqLGOJj/s320/LouisaTounsia-jug.jpg" width="236" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Louisa Tounsia with gargoulette</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Louisa Tounsia was born Louisa Saadoun in 1905 in Tunis. She
had a prolific career and recorded for the likes of <i>Gramophone</i>, <i>Columbia</i>, <i>Polyphon</i>, <i>Perfectaphone</i>
<i>Baidaphon</i>, <i>Pacific</i>, and <i>Ducretet-Thomson</i>. Her repertoire was equally varied,
recording <i>taalil</i> (with Raoul Journo), tango, and yes, a song about heroin. She
performed across North Africa and France at the hottest North African cabarets
throughout the 1930s and after the war. She was married to the equally
impressive Tunisian lyricist Zaki Khraïf. The circumstances of her death have
always been unclear to me, having died rather suddenly at the age of sixty-one.
If anyone has more information about the final years of her life, please do reach out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the meantime, her legacy lives on. Emel Mathlouthi, the
singer of the recent Tunisian revolution, has taken to singing Louisa Tounsia’s
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FkP9JHX2Mn4" target="_blank">Ala bab darek</a> on a number of occasions.<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/5APLosIX240" width="420"></iframe></div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-25004923038121113462015-12-06T07:22:00.001-08:002015-12-06T07:22:58.966-08:00Hatikvah in Tunis: A Rare 1930s Recording Surfaces<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mea culpa. I’ve been slow on posts this year. To make up for
this absence, I’m going to use Hanukkah as an excuse to shine a light on some
of my favorite North African recordings on Youtube. In the spirit of the
holiday, I’ll be posting once a day for all eight days of Hanukkah. Why am I
turning to Youtube? Well, buried on the video sharing site are some real
musical gems that don’t always get the circulation and attention they deserve
due to either creative orthography or because titles are written in Arabic or
Hebrew. Indeed, each one of these records on Youtube has a story and over the
next week or so I’ll be teasing that out and putting them in their historical
context. I’ll try to keep these posts short and really place a spotlight on the
music.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Perhaps we should start with a question: What did Hatikvah,
the Zionist hymn-turned-official anthem of Israel, sound like in Tunisia circa
1932? Well, thanks to this impossibly rare <i>Gramophone</i> recording from Tunis by a
Mr. Cohen, we know that it was pretty rocking.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Iyfhu-xIRlw" width="560"></iframe><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
You can compare it to this Alma Gluck (soprano) and Efrem Zimbalist (violin) version, recorded in 1918 for Victor, which I imagine many of my readers will be far more familiar with.<br />
<br />
<object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" height="148" id="locplayerfp_38102014" width="522"> <param value="true" name="allowfullscreen"/> <param value="always" name="allowscriptaccess"/> <param value="high" name="quality"/> <param value="true" name="cachebusting"/> <param value="#000000" name="bgcolor"/> <param name="movie" value="http://media.loc.gov/player/flowplayer.commercial.swf?0.05032865686479093" /> <param value="config=http://media.loc.gov/media/embed/id/A2671ACD6334037CE0438C93F116037C" name="flashvars"/> <embed src="http://media.loc.gov/player/flowplayer.commercial.swf?0.05032865686479093" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="522" height="148" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" cachebusting="true" flashvars="config=http://media.loc.gov/media/embed/id/A2671ACD6334037CE0438C93F116037C" bgcolor="#000000" quality="true"> </embed>
</object><!-- For embedding a smaller audio player size, append "/size/small" to the config url in both places after the 32 character id, and change the width in both places to 439. For a smaller video player size, do the same to the config url and modify the width and height parameters appropriately.-->
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiruwquRoL1W9GRUo6CIEfqV_zty-lvUf8NxrptwiZZncEoqKFpnrWccebhMwV1BTKR1xGzn7SsTEeGnIj0NPKXTJRbs9bsfpC8cmxTQXwO4bPPXT5Zt7jexTlrdL1oTurx1dwtXMtCZ9sj/s1600/Pathe.1926.Tunisia-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiruwquRoL1W9GRUo6CIEfqV_zty-lvUf8NxrptwiZZncEoqKFpnrWccebhMwV1BTKR1xGzn7SsTEeGnIj0NPKXTJRbs9bsfpC8cmxTQXwO4bPPXT5Zt7jexTlrdL1oTurx1dwtXMtCZ9sj/s320/Pathe.1926.Tunisia-5.jpg" width="236" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Courtesy of Sephardicmusic.org</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
In the last few years, I have by and large written about
North African Jews who recorded in Arabic but we should not forget that a
plethora of languages were committed to disc in the Maghrib - including Hebrew.
In terms of their Hebrew output, North African Jews not only released
liturgical music on the major labels but so too, comic songs, and as we’ve
already heard, <i>Hatikva</i> (meaning “hope” in Hebrew and also the name of the Zionist anthem). In
addition to Mr. Cohen’s version (which you’ve now hopefully played multiple
times), Babi Bismuth and Messaoud Habib, two of the biggest Tunisian stars of their generation, released their take on the original
1897 nine-stanza poem by Naftali Herz Imber in 1926 for <i>Pathé</i>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What is remarkable about all of this is just how uncontroversial
the release of Hatikvah in North Africa was at the beginning of the twentieth
century. First, Hatikvah, which obviously pre-dated the founding of Israel and
thus carried different connotations, could be heard in Tunisia for some time. We
even have accounts of mixed Muslim-Jewish orchestras performing it in places
like Sousse as early as 1917. Second, the recording industry across the Maghrib
was used to handling this kind of musical diversity. In the 1932 Gramophone
record catalogue for Algeria and Tunisia, then under the direction of
Mahieddine Bachtarzi, we find the artist Louisa al-Israiliyya (Louisa “the
Jewess,” and listed in later catalogues as Louisa al-Djaziriyya or Louisa
l’Algérienne), who was described as the most “respected maalema” in Algeria,
while Mr. Cohen’s Hatikvah appears on the same page as recordings by the
Soulamia sufi brotherhood of Nabeul and Mohamed Triki’s al-Islamiyya orchestra
(also known as La Musulmane), which had just released their recording of
another anthem - the Beylical hymn.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In far more recent years, there have been calls in Israel to
make the current, shorter version of Hatikvah inclusive of all of the state’s
citizens. One wonders if setting it to the rhythms, instrumentals, and vocal
flairs of Mr. Cohen’s version from Tunisia might be (at least) a step in the right musical
direction.</div>
<br /></div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-41602736666380794642015-09-23T11:20:00.003-07:002015-09-23T11:20:35.270-07:00Celebrating Life: Saoud l'Oranais, Algerian Music-Making, Yom Kippur, and Eid al-Kabir<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCNFVn0mDmSyyo1r-rq3fV0Dc_SFKVO4AOhYvV0syM3fcTK4nFhYaWm4RIk9jgMBuuNuX6zlE1j7kEuR1I1c94GwNeqaIn213EYsjKHS4GG2nMVpDvuy3lLPv9sn6ctLl2xy9UxaPTkfdC/s1600/FullSizeRender%25288%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCNFVn0mDmSyyo1r-rq3fV0Dc_SFKVO4AOhYvV0syM3fcTK4nFhYaWm4RIk9jgMBuuNuX6zlE1j7kEuR1I1c94GwNeqaIn213EYsjKHS4GG2nMVpDvuy3lLPv9sn6ctLl2xy9UxaPTkfdC/s320/FullSizeRender%25288%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Box labeled "Saoud l'Oranais" and filled with Algerian 78s</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On Monday July 13, I left a blisteringly hot Marseille bound
for Montpellier. I was heading there to meet a Mr. Sultan about a collection of
“oriental” records he was looking to part with. Upon arrival at Mr. Sultan’s
apartment, a friendly-faced nonagenarian greeted me, welcomed me in, and poured
me a much-needed glass of water. He pointed me to a table on which sat a small
box and a plastic bag, both dangerously packed with Algerian 78 rpm records,
and we began to talk. Mr. Sultan, originally from Oran, was in the process of
moving into a retirement home, he told me. His children were uninterested in
the ancient discs and so he was looking to give (sell) them to a good home -
someone who appreciated their value. The records in his collection were his
father’s - a man, who judging by the condition of these records and confirmed
by Mr. Sultan, was serious about his music. As he spoke, I carefully pulled out
record after record for inspection. Most were in their original Pathé and
Polyphon sleeves and most reflective of an <i>Oranais</i> musical sensibility. Among
the lot was Lili Labassi, Cheikh Zouzou, and of course, Saoud l’Oranais. It was
the latter, Mr. Sultan made clear, that his father was particularly fond of. Indeed,
the box in which all of the records had sat for way too long contained a single
mark designating its contents: on the cover Mr. Sultan or his father had
written “Saoud l’Oranais” in a now-faded blue ink. I closed the box,
reorganized some of the other discs, gently packed them into a record bag, and
bid Mr. Sultan farewell - likely for the first and last time. My heart raced
the whole train ride home knowing what was inside my bag.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since that fateful encounter with Mr. Sultan, I have been
thinking much about Saoud l’Oranais. I have of lately been writing about the
way in which the Second World War collided with North Africa and North African
music-making and no such story is complete without mention of Saoud l’Oranais.
But his life was much more than his end and I want to first sketch out the details
of that rather remarkable existence before doubling back to how it was cut
short and why I’m posting this now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDwF1hulbwAlevZKHoIP1alqaeSqWnZOi1FLPRAVJhtxXlfhipEo7zYFY-_5IXw2b1AmM9K_L6taIeRc-OO4Ku1-tuBLsF4iD_n7ebX52uzjNc-AJ5TIsYK3Egw7Ok3jyhmtyRgSzTB-ZW/s1600/IMG_1525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDwF1hulbwAlevZKHoIP1alqaeSqWnZOi1FLPRAVJhtxXlfhipEo7zYFY-_5IXw2b1AmM9K_L6taIeRc-OO4Ku1-tuBLsF4iD_n7ebX52uzjNc-AJ5TIsYK3Egw7Ok3jyhmtyRgSzTB-ZW/s320/IMG_1525.JPG" width="201" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Saoud l'Oranais, Baidaphon, 1935</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Saoud l’Oranais was born Messaoud El Médioni in 1886 in
Oran. He came from a long line of musical Medionis and it appears that he first
recorded for Pathé at the age of 26 (the first mention of Saoud l’Oranais is in
a Pathéphone catalogue from 1912). To give you a sense of that early Algerian
recording world he inhabited, that same 1912 record catalogue featured Ed.
Yafil (Edmond Nathan Yafil) singing and Mouzino described as “éleve de Sfindja”
- a student of the great Andalusi master who still needed to be listed
according to his lineage. Throughout the 1910s and through the 1930s, Saoud
performed regularly with <i>El Moutribia</i>, Algeria’s premier indigenous (and most
Jewish) orchestra. He was first bestowed the title of <i>cheikh</i> sometime in the early-1920s
and by the end of that decade, he served as President of the <i>Société de Chant in
Oran</i>. He collaborated with José Huertas while in Oran and also served as the
director of the <i>Mouloudia</i>, Oran’s premier “oriental music” society. Saoud was
happy to bring his children into the music business and recorded with his son
Henri and managed to have his son Georgeot record for <i>Parlophone</i> at the age of
12. His most famous musical descendent, his nephew Maurice El Medioni, is of
course, still very much alive and remarkably, still performing. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoXs_tC01mcu0KGZO9j5F_-5Cve3ubgnGPVRgzlZi0M_5XthvWx7shjHHrQZNM8gVM6NwjxtvLwMEUThcHfdCSnRGLu0jV71tTRTOx-cqMDy5XYfB39vqrBOMZ3_S1W6ew-inzhWFGr9Yq/s1600/170946650862.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoXs_tC01mcu0KGZO9j5F_-5Cve3ubgnGPVRgzlZi0M_5XthvWx7shjHHrQZNM8gVM6NwjxtvLwMEUThcHfdCSnRGLu0jV71tTRTOx-cqMDy5XYfB39vqrBOMZ3_S1W6ew-inzhWFGr9Yq/s320/170946650862.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Sadia Bendenoun (student of Saoud)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Among
his many accomplishments were his musical protégés. Indeed, he took a chance on
a blind Jewish girl by the name of Sultanta Daoud and soon turned her into
Reinette l’Oranais. On Reinette’s earliest recordings, the announcer would belt
out, “Istwanat Polyphon…Reina…éleve de Saoud.” The “éleve de Saoud” brand was a
powerful one and would be attached to a number of musicians throughout the
1930s.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Saoud
recorded prolifically. His music could be found on Pathé, Polyphon, Parlophone,
HMV, Philips, and Baidaphon. His range was rather remarkable as well. He sang gharnati,
hawzi - as well as lighter songs about Oran’s championship soccer team. When he
wasn’t singing, he managed his own bar, Café Saoud, in the Derb, Oran’s Jewish
quarter.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Sometime
in the second half of the 1930s, Saoud made his home in Marseille. This was
likely done out of opportunity more than anything else. Indeed, Saoud would
join a steady flow of North African Jewish and Muslim musicians who made the
metropole their base in the 1930s. Like in Oran, Saoud operated a café in his
newly adopted city.<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
then in June of 1940, Saoud suddenly found himself behind enemy lines. The
German occupation of northern France had ushered in the rise of a
collaborationist regime, known as Vichy, based in the country’s southern half
and including Marseille. From here things get murky. What life was like for
Saoud and his family during those years is unknown although surely it was
terrifying. Then, on the evening of January 22, 1943, but a few months since
Operation Torch and after a massive roundup of Jews in Marseille, the Germans
deported Saoud, his son, and too many others to Drancy, the internment camp
just outside of Paris. From there, Cheikh Saoud l’Oranais, now once again
Messaoud El Médioni - for few would have recognized him, was sent to the Nazi
death camp at Sobibor. On March 23, 1943, Saoud and his son Joseph, age 13,
were murdered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/225239960&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe>In some ways, it is easier to dwell on his death than on his exceptional life. His
recordings, although once everywhere, have become scarce. Thus, I’m posting
something from the recently acquired Sultan collection so that we may honor
that life. Given that it is both Yom Kippur and Eid (at the time of writing), I
thought his “Idd El Kebir (Eid al-Kabir)” recorded in the late 1920s for Pathé was more
than appropriate. <b>Let us remember that this recording comes from a time when
North African Jewish musicians like Laho Seror and Mouzino performed at mosque
dedication ceremonies, when Ramadan evenings were spent at the casbah cafes and
music venues of Jewish performers like Sassi Lebrati, and when Jews like Saoud
l’Oranais sang about Muslim holidays like Eid al-Kabir.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b> </b>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
May Saoud’s memory be for a
blessing and may that blessing carry us through this next year.</div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-5221950272766973422015-05-22T10:36:00.001-07:002015-05-22T10:36:32.076-07:00Mediterranean Musical Trajectories: Judah Sebag and a Rare 78 RPM Recording of Adon Olam<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIrOiiI5rfFvSkeotA23rJVSE1-EmcMj65rU1qSjZbKBR3j2s1NxBSW0ti6Diep4OIkdTov-r0i2umaZvXbtcCtagSTCzZUYIDWH0c2SPAEpKni-aXhIDY9jHvs5Avl64UwI02mauanm7V/s1600/alcazar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIrOiiI5rfFvSkeotA23rJVSE1-EmcMj65rU1qSjZbKBR3j2s1NxBSW0ti6Diep4OIkdTov-r0i2umaZvXbtcCtagSTCzZUYIDWH0c2SPAEpKni-aXhIDY9jHvs5Avl64UwI02mauanm7V/s320/alcazar.jpg" width="252" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>l'Alcazar</i> as it once was</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This is a post about the global Mediterranean. It is about
Marseille, France serving as a hub of North African music in the era of
decolonization. It is about surprising partnerships engendered by the
pioneering work of the Armenian-owned record label <i>Disques Tam Tam</i>. Finally, it
is about a rare 1950s 78 rpm recording of Judah Sebag performing “Adon Olam,” the
liturgical poem chanted weekly in synagogues around the world.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Although many of the details here are obscure, we can begin
to trace the trajectory of Judah Sebag. Born in Morocco, Sebag likely made his
home in Marseille sometime in the 1950s. There, in the <i>Cours Belsunce</i> quarter,
he would have found a space long home to North African cultural production.
Indeed, it was here, at <i>l’Alcazar</i>, that Julie Abitbol earned a name for herself
some two and half decades prior and became known professionally as Julie
Marseillaise (her daughter Widad eventually married the Tunisian artist Hédi
Jouini but I’ll save that for another post).<br />
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/jlc9wYE20qE" width="420"></iframe><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaFWh2EUnM_SIsb4F93OnMAqjUk_tr5tyVyYdrwdW9r9UT5kfJ_5Outw8b6XSB08qyJVtcQ1jE6Y26CSdwcB5BBvotaktZQ7QHy7e6cpkqH-2D0zEPQww4HTHfF6g4G0tw00_P2usLO-nX/s1600/TamTamBurkinaFaso.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaFWh2EUnM_SIsb4F93OnMAqjUk_tr5tyVyYdrwdW9r9UT5kfJ_5Outw8b6XSB08qyJVtcQ1jE6Y26CSdwcB5BBvotaktZQ7QHy7e6cpkqH-2D0zEPQww4HTHfF6g4G0tw00_P2usLO-nX/s320/TamTamBurkinaFaso.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bobo musicians from Burkina Faso on Tam Tam</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In the heart of Cours Belsunce, at 9 Rue Des Dominicains,
Sebag would have found the Armenian-owned Disques Tam Tam. So too did other
Moroccan Jewish musicians, including but not limited to Abraham El Fassi and Jo
Amar. At the Disque Tam Tam studio, Sebag teamed up with a small orchestra consisting
of oud, darbouka, and qanoun. Who knows, perhaps the West African and Armenian stars
of Tam Tam were milling about when Sebag began to warm up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sebag recorded at least two records for Disques Tam Tam but
likely a few more. You are about to hear an exceedingly rare 78 rpm recording
of Judah Sebag performing that staple of synagogue service, Adon Olam. While
Arabic-language North African 78s are difficult to come by, Hebrew-language
discs are that much more scarce, so this is a treat. And I have to admit, that
Adon Olam, originating sometime in the fifteenth century and meaning “Master of
the Universe,” has never quite sounded so good as it has when put to
mid-century Moroccan rhythms - despite some surface noise. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/206730616&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe>I’m not sure what became of Judah Sebag but if any readers
out there have any leads, please do send them my way. In the meantime, wishing
everyone a Shabbat Shalom.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-38582355690276311802015-04-03T09:51:00.005-07:002015-05-20T14:41:04.103-07:00Of Tunisian Jewish Saints, Stambeli, and Wedding Singers: Remembering Doukha<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTVYipV_hNteNTPXmpHvmpEYaJHfovWPSD9CPxNXgPjotDq51Mutu3BCMRSV1rxMDtj_PM5gMqblAeP5SZaxDa9eHO-UGgBklv5IluTDkU_-rIOqL7pnFxJG3n-NdlS2QJIBwm5eiorx_I/s1600/MordekhaiHaddad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTVYipV_hNteNTPXmpHvmpEYaJHfovWPSD9CPxNXgPjotDq51Mutu3BCMRSV1rxMDtj_PM5gMqblAeP5SZaxDa9eHO-UGgBklv5IluTDkU_-rIOqL7pnFxJG3n-NdlS2QJIBwm5eiorx_I/s1600/MordekhaiHaddad.jpg" width="246" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Undated photo of Doukha</i>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Found at the bottom of many of the <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/jan/13/jersualem-funeral-french-jewish-victims-paris-supermarket-attack" target="_blank">articles</a> on the victims
of the Paris kosher supermarket attack last January, was a notice that Yohan
Cohen’s maternal grandfather was none other than the popular Tunisian singer
Doukha, who had himself died just a month prior in Netanya, Israel. Little more
than a mention was given to the multitalented artist, whose given name was
Mordekhai Haddad, so I thought I would pay tribute to him here with the few
details that I could find.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitGpciMEWvjgb6XOMeReTSVnhXTtCi9QeidZOAVtiiHTdSrxSZEtfMl-FmH6T7GbnVgpCX6BKpC_1QbZU6j-qg4QI6erHvgGDNyXk5EeFqcFSMp-_DTSga0fllvqy4sAtPB1IYJFylOMxl/s1600/cinq_chanteurs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitGpciMEWvjgb6XOMeReTSVnhXTtCi9QeidZOAVtiiHTdSrxSZEtfMl-FmH6T7GbnVgpCX6BKpC_1QbZU6j-qg4QI6erHvgGDNyXk5EeFqcFSMp-_DTSga0fllvqy4sAtPB1IYJFylOMxl/s1600/cinq_chanteurs.jpg" width="293" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Undated newspaper clipping of Doukha.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Mordekhai Haddad was born sometime in the first third of the
twentieth century in Tunis. Like many Tunisians of the era, Haddad was reared
on equal parts Farid al-Atrash and Raoul Journo and eventually joined the
latter’s orchestra as a percussionist, specializing in the tar and the darbouka.
As a vocalist, Doukha (likely a diminutive of Mordekhai), as he soon became
known, was adept at a range of styles: from Tunisian popular music (including
the trance inducing stambeli you’ll hear below) and religious song (including
for the various anthems associated with pilgrimages to tombs of Jewish saints
and the genre of <i>thalil</i>). In the 1950s and through the 1960s, Doukha recorded
for at least two Tunisian record labels: En Nour and Studio Sonor. Studio Sonor
was founded by Victor Uzan and was based at 6 Rue d’Athenes in Tunis, just
northeast of the medina. The label put out a number of what it called
“Judeo-Tunisian folkloric” discs including those by Doukha and Nathan Cohen.
Doukha and Cohen were frequent collaborators, would often trade off lead vocals
under the direction of Clement Hayoun, and worked as a quintet with two other
unnamed artists. <i>If anyone has any more information on the other two, please do
send my way and I’ll add.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8RgBawGm9z_QcbMNJvWAg6BeDecUSikP8JJ3Gm9mgwS_rdNW3NF_x05IUP_9GDuFJa3h6IBuB36mP2BTjiv6aa9qdaf2ne9z_3TtLWuPCjQ7SGkn0qbsAxcD1-zKzYh_w5BI5RKTdTBDx/s1600/studio_sonor_rue_dathenes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8RgBawGm9z_QcbMNJvWAg6BeDecUSikP8JJ3Gm9mgwS_rdNW3NF_x05IUP_9GDuFJa3h6IBuB36mP2BTjiv6aa9qdaf2ne9z_3TtLWuPCjQ7SGkn0qbsAxcD1-zKzYh_w5BI5RKTdTBDx/s1600/studio_sonor_rue_dathenes.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A rare photo of Studio Sonor in Tunis.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Below are both sides of a Doukha EP released for En Nour
around 1960. You will get a sense not only of his breadth of musical knowledge here
but of his very palpable energy. The A side is “Ana nzourek bel farha kouia (I
visit you with great joy),” and is an ode to al-Sayyed Rabbi Yossef El Maarabi
of Gabès. El Maarab, as he is often referred to, was a Moroccan-born disciple
of the sixteenth century Safed-based kabbalist Rabbi Isaac and Luria. What I
dig about this track is that it seems to straddle that sacred-popular line that
I have recently been transfixed with. In other words, this is a devotional song
that makes you want to dance to the beat.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/199077256&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
UPDATE (5/20/2015): Last month I wrote that this track "seems to straddle that sacred-popular line." I was listening to some Raoul Journo the other day and then it dawned on me: "Ana nzourek bel farha koui" has the same melody as his "Ana Targui (I'm a Touareg)." I was blown away. Check it out!<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.dailymotion.com/embed/video/x7f8c9" width="480"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x7f8c9_raoul-journo-ana-targui-weld-ettarg_music" target="_blank">Raoul Journo Ana Targui Weld Ettarguia</a> <i>by <a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/Artiste-Tunisien" target="_blank">Artiste-Tunisien</a></i><br />
<br />
The second track, “Ghita et Fezzani,” is led by Clement
Hayoun. It is a variant of stambeli, the trance inducing music that often comes
with mizwid (North African bagpipe) and zukra (horn), which I have written
about recently. I think you’re gonna enjoy this one as well.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/199077545&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
It seems that for much of his career, Doukha was <i>the</i> wedding,
Bar Mitzvah, and other event singer of Tunis’ Jewish community. I searched the
internet far and wide for memories of Doukha (in multiple languages) but could
find only a few scattered ones on the various message boards of the Tunisian
Jewish diaspora. <i>Hopefully this post will make the rounds and we can bring more
of Doukha to the fore</i>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One almost final note. I’m going to be doing a fair bit of
traveling over the next few months and through the summer (Boston, Spain,
Israel, Poland, France - to name but a few) and will be bringing records with
me. <i>If you want to put together a night of North African vinyl, shoot me an
email and we’ll see if we can make something happen.</i></div>
<i>
</i><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Finally, Chag Sameach and Happy Passover!</b></div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-79120898810051216452015-01-12T10:08:00.000-08:002015-01-12T10:09:02.142-08:00Dounia, A World: El Kahlaoui Tounsi and His Record Empire<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tunisian lyricist Ridha Khouini once described El Kahlaoui
Tounsi as, “the most gifted percussionist of his generation.” Take the A side
of this 45 rpm for a spin and you’ll soon see why.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/185560472&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>And yet, El Kahlaoui Tounsi was, as music journalist
Bouziane Daoudi called him, “a man of many chéchias.”</b> Indeed, the Sidi
Mehrez-born Elie Touitou could lay claim to a burgeoning record empire - in
addition to a successful recording career - by the time he was in his late 20s.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO93v7tdKTNcEmCIjKT7lTE0Zh1ABYlMhxg06P3RLLc3G5gwA73eC1EtMwPbST9Aoz9q8fe40x4M4mwSoJfFS6BD_aV9hM5NRH8FvtlaEDR7QqsSevkvmPUm5PoFlsac6aNbxet3Pk3WHf/s1600/IMG_1269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO93v7tdKTNcEmCIjKT7lTE0Zh1ABYlMhxg06P3RLLc3G5gwA73eC1EtMwPbST9Aoz9q8fe40x4M4mwSoJfFS6BD_aV9hM5NRH8FvtlaEDR7QqsSevkvmPUm5PoFlsac6aNbxet3Pk3WHf/s1600/IMG_1269.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Traces of El Kahlaoui Tounsi & Dounia in Tunis</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Like
many Tunisians who came of age in the 1940s, the young Touitou (born in 1932)
was captivated by Egyptian music. He not only modeled himself on Egyptian
singer Mohamed El Kahlaoui but hitched his own stage name to the already
established star. El Kahlaoui Tounsi’s star was rising as well and as a
teenager in the late 1940s, he was already drawing the attention of blind
Jewish qanunist Kakino de Paz and others. After stints in Paris at venues like
the famed El Djazair cabaret in the Latin Quarter, he returned to Tunis where
he became a Radio Tunis regular. By 1953, he recorded his first single (Min
youm elli ratek aini) - and never looked back. <b>Over the next few years, he
would record for a staggering array of labels: Ducretet-Thomson, Teppaz, La
Voix Du Globe, Bel-Air, Pathé, and of course, Dounia.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Meaning
“world” in Arabic, Dounia was a fairly well-regarded 78 rpm outfit in the 1950s
but made a difficult transition to vinyl. In 1960, Tounsi bought the label outright
and soon transformed it into an empire. The sheer breadth of artistry and genre
of the Dounia catalog is mind-boggling. Dounia at once provided a forum for the
likes of Maati Ben Kacem, Cheikh Mohamed El Anka, Oulaya, Fadila Dziria,
Cheikha Remitti (and even the Syrian-Egyptian Farid El-Atrash, reportedly a
friend) but so too for their recently uprooted and now France-based Jewish
colleagues like Lili Boniche, Line Monty, Raoul Journo, Edmond Atlan, Blond
Blond, Albert Guez, Réne Perez, Luc Cherki, Cheikh Zekri, Aida Nassim, Albert
Perez, and Nathan Cohen. <b>In fact, the importance of El Kahlaoui Tounsi and his
Dounia label cannot be overstated. Tounsi and Dounia gave a voice to some of
the best North African artists of the twentieth century when few others would.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Being
an impresario hardly slowed his own musical career. Throughout the end of the
vinyl era, El Kahlaoui Tounsi provided high energy performances on dozens of
Dounia LPs and 45s and continued to perform throughout the 1980s and 1990s.
<b>This piece of Djerban folk, which appears to have been recorded around 1976, is
one of my favorites. It is hypnotic, full of zukra (otherwise known as zurna),
and pairs very well with Celtia (as the album artwork makes clear).</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/185561508&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe><b>Afterward:</b> On February 15, 2000 (almost exactly fifteen years
ago), France’s Liberation newspaper ran the following headline, <b>“Tounsi ne
jouera plus de derbouka.”</b> El Kahlaoui Tounsi had died at the all too young age
of 67. Tounsi, of course, has been anything but silent in the years since his
death. In 2002, the Bataclan concert hall on Boulevard Voltaire, purchased by
Tounsi in 1976 and now owned by his sons, honored El Kahlaoui Tounsi and his larger
than life musical contribution to both North Africa and France through an
evening of song. And for anyone who has ever picked up a CD on the <i>Trésors de
la Chanson Judéo-Arabe</i> series on Buda, rest assured that you are hearing El
Kahlaoui Tounsi. The contents are pulled almost entirely from the Dounia label.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>One final thought:</b> I am posting this entry after a
devastating week in Paris. I am still processing and mourning but have found some
solace in a turn to El Kahlaoui Tounsi, his record label, and music…music that
points to a different dounia, a different world in which Jews and Muslims came
together to create an art that stands the test of time. </div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-16557273600063792542014-12-18T16:01:00.002-08:002014-12-18T16:02:46.384-08:00 Mazal Haï Mazal: Eight North African Tracks to Light Your Soul On Fire<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
span.usercontent
{mso-style-name:usercontent;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
2014 came and went too quickly. I wanted to post more often
but as so frequently happens, life got in the way. <b>In lieu of my more regular
posts, I offer you, “Mazal Haï Mazal: Eight North African Tracks to Light Your
Soul On Fire,” as an end of the year treat.</b> These are <b>eight</b> (one for every
night of Hanukkah) of my favorite Moroccan and Algerian tracks (mostly on vinyl
but one on cassette) and articulate a range of Maghrebi Jewish sounds - <b>from
Andalusian to chaabi to a song about the atomic bomb!</b> <a href="https://playitagainsamy.bandcamp.com/album/mazal-ha-mazal-eight-north-african-tracks-to-light-your-soul-on-fire" target="_blank"><b><u><span class="usercontent">Feel free to stream, download, and share.</span></u></b></a><br />
<br /></div>
<iframe seamless="" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=1636547949/size=large/bgcol=ffffff/linkcol=0687f5/tracklist=false/transparent=true/" style="border: 0; height: 470px; width: 350px;"><a href="http://playitagainsamy.bandcamp.com/album/mazal-ha-mazal-eight-north-african-tracks-to-light-your-soul-on-fire">Mazal Haï Mazal: Eight North African Tracks to Light Your Soul On Fire by Play It Again, Samy</a></iframe>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Consider the title of this end of the year Hanukkah mixtape
an Arabic-Hebrew play on words. Indeed for most of the mid-century North
African Jewish artists featured here, “mazal” always carried two meanings. In
Arabic, mazal meant “still,” as in Lili Labassi’s “Mazal haï mazal” (S/he’s
still alive) - <a href="http://excavatedshellac.com/2008/10/12/lili-labassi-mazal-haye-mazal/" target="_blank">a track beautifully presented on the Excavated Shellac blog</a>. But
so too did mazal recall the Hebrew for “luck” or “fortune,” a point made by
Labassi’s disciple Blond Blond, who sang, “mazal, c’est la chance,” in what is
perhaps <a href="http://jewishmorocco.blogspot.com/2011/12/happy-hannouka-from-jewish-algeria-and.html" target="_blank">the only Algerian Hanukkah song ever to be recorded commercially</a>. I say
all of this to convey the following: treat my take on Mazal Haï Mazal in both
of these senses. Not only is this music “still alive” but so too should we
remember that it is through a combination of fortune and luck (and all of our
good graces) that it continues to live on.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="usercontent">One last point before we get to the
music. <b>Treat this as a soft launch of a crowd funding campaign to turn my
private record collection into a public sound archive.</b> On my shelves are
historical audio gems that deserved to be shared and I want to make that happen
as soon as possible. <u>In other words, keep an eye out on this site in 2015!</u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="usercontent">Best wishes for the New Year!</span></div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-31098799974517946032014-09-19T05:59:00.001-07:002014-09-19T10:21:13.329-07:00The Algerian Jewish Soundscape<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVb7u_XSHA4syNp_g5lvwjlFQHny9oTA8LnucjG0IEsnDY8FjOaYtL3KPsKzLGSPhAjZYHyhlLqWL6HtRSwPQcCKmbwow8WMSSi_A7ytnE42oNxvhXzj2tY4Zd_Eq-w6CzMkku-bHtlY-V/s1600/IMG_1671.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVb7u_XSHA4syNp_g5lvwjlFQHny9oTA8LnucjG0IEsnDY8FjOaYtL3KPsKzLGSPhAjZYHyhlLqWL6HtRSwPQcCKmbwow8WMSSi_A7ytnE42oNxvhXzj2tY4Zd_Eq-w6CzMkku-bHtlY-V/s1600/IMG_1671.jpg" height="320" width="299" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bootleg Salim Halali LP found in Algiers.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Algeria’s Jewish past is often framed as one of contemporary
invisibility. Jews are gone, synagogues have been converted into mosques, and
still other visual markers of Jewish life all but effaced. Indeed, all of this
is true. But since arriving in Algeria two weeks ago to do research on the
North African music industry of the first half of the twentieth century I have
wondered the following: What happens when we shift our focus to that of the
aural? In other words, are Algerian Jews more present in the present if we
replace vision for sound and the landscape for the soundscape? The answer, in
short, is a resounding, “yes.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefcQ2p4VB24bO9IvRwiKM798izHqxfsENa0kxBNA6YTrI4u3cbLt_TUJ8nLJWIpEKZH6Q83ca7aUdAIFPvNXE6pzkQi5v1lVK5EkSEARTe42X-KGbw3h0OLDr5krTuGQiPt_TKz0m9jSy/s1600/IMG_1717.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefcQ2p4VB24bO9IvRwiKM798izHqxfsENa0kxBNA6YTrI4u3cbLt_TUJ8nLJWIpEKZH6Q83ca7aUdAIFPvNXE6pzkQi5v1lVK5EkSEARTe42X-KGbw3h0OLDr5krTuGQiPt_TKz0m9jSy/s1600/IMG_1717.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Discussing the Algerian 78 era over coffee.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
If one listens close enough, Jewish voices are everywhere in
Algeria. One must only enter one of the myriad CD shops to catch the sounds of
popular Jewish recording artists from more than half a century ago like Lili
Boniche. Peek your head into a bric-a-brac shop in Oued Kniss and you will find
a dust covered pile of records including the likes of Salim Halali and Lili
Labassi. Catch an Andalusian performance at the National Theater (named for
Mahieddine Bachetarzi, himself closely identified with Algerian Jewish musical
impresarios of the past like Edmond Nathan Yafil) and you will hear a piece of the
classical suite - and now an inextricable part of Algerian patrimony - once
closely associated with Jewish legends like Mouzino and Sassi. Meet with an
octogenarian musician and wait just seconds before he regales you with tales of
Alice Fitoussi and la belle époque of Algerian music. Tell just about any
Algerian, young or old, about your research subject in the broadest of terms
and wait for them to interject with, “Ah! Then you must study the Jews.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is much more to say but I am still very much
processing it all. My daily strolls through the casbah, that shockingly compact
musical incubator which once nurtured the high point of Jewish-Muslim music
making, helps tremendously. So too does listening to the music again and again.
Shortly before leaving for Algeria, I put together an all-45 rpm mix for
<a href="http://www.afropop.org/wp/20467/guest-mix-for-the-love-of-djazair/" target="_blank"><i>Afropop Worldwide</i></a> which serves as both a primer and a testament to the outsized role
played by the country’s Jewish musicians in the first two-thirds of the
twentieth century.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/167410987&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrUhbjmsRh-w2wmGNEDJhdyPrObM9JJE_HupkE0cw4EUo-qAEClBKP4xKxPOU6e8sOXyJlaQ0Y4NBWs9w_qZCVWJTV73r4Uwu1nimtLB6qsCus7U2tFYR4HI08t8V2eJa-8JIbBhU4xm5E/s1600/photo-80.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrUhbjmsRh-w2wmGNEDJhdyPrObM9JJE_HupkE0cw4EUo-qAEClBKP4xKxPOU6e8sOXyJlaQ0Y4NBWs9w_qZCVWJTV73r4Uwu1nimtLB6qsCus7U2tFYR4HI08t8V2eJa-8JIbBhU4xm5E/s1600/photo-80.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Disco Maghreb. What else?</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Here is what I wrote for their website: “In an era
immediately before chaabi and preceding raï by some decades, multi-talented
artists like Lili Labassi pushed the boundaries of Algerian Arabic music in
new, exciting directions while laying down 78 rpm record after 78 rpm record
for Columbia, Polydor, and even RCA. Later, Lili Boniche and Luc Cherki, the
so-called “crooners of the casbah,” blended Western and North African rhythms
to produce hits like the former’s “Ya Samira,” included here. Over the next
hour you will hear a sampling of all of this and more. We start with Salim
Halali and his iconic cover of the Moroccan Sidi Hbibi before moving on to a
Luc Cherki istikhbar and disco number and eventually to a trio of pieces
performed by Blond Blond, Lili Labassi, and the Algéroise diva Line Monty
dedicated to a love of city (Oran and Algiers) and nation (Djazaïr). René Perez
and Lili Boniche round out this mix before we arrive at the rarest piece in
this collection: the Andalusian piano stylings of the one and only Sariza Cohen.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<i><u><b>Playlist</b></u></i><br />
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
-->
</style>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Salim Halali</b> - Layali Maghrib / <b>Salim Halali</b> - Sidi H’bibi / <b>Luc Cherki</b> - Stekhbar Sahli / <b>Luc Cherki</b> - Oumparéré / <b>Blond Blond</b> - El Porompompero / <b>Blond Blond</b> - Wahran El Behya / <b>Lili Labassi</b> - Ouaharan El Bhya / <b>Lili Labassi</b> - Edzayer Zint Elbouldan / <b>Leïla Fateh (Line Monty)</b> - Alger Alger / <b>René Perez</b> - Elli Mektoub Mektoub / <b>Lili Boniche</b> - Elli Mektoub Mektoub / <b>Lili Boniche </b>- Ya Samira / <b>Sariza Cohen</b> - Variations sur Touchia Dhil
</div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
More to come when I return but in the meantime pour yourself
a Phénix or an Orangina (both of Algerian origin) and enjoy the music. Saha!</div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-10655355941579147122014-06-27T13:51:00.000-07:002014-06-27T13:56:24.288-07:00The Delight of the Faithful: Henry Levi, Cheikh Raymond, and a 1958 Recording from Constantine<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIoCm0KtOvAZ4jE1EK-nXcnGIG0IdelHW3R5QdXK2PppObMRCfeAwhkjfHpgUEJc8-Ih1ZhoKkW75eC383Tug2ZblZqoy4lNQQcI5yPL7KLcR1MsldymUDPX8LgfWE3WTAfoHfSOWPE0ov/s1600/jeunes+rabbins+de+constantine+dans+la+fin+des+annees+50++.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIoCm0KtOvAZ4jE1EK-nXcnGIG0IdelHW3R5QdXK2PppObMRCfeAwhkjfHpgUEJc8-Ih1ZhoKkW75eC383Tug2ZblZqoy4lNQQcI5yPL7KLcR1MsldymUDPX8LgfWE3WTAfoHfSOWPE0ov/s1600/jeunes+rabbins+de+constantine+dans+la+fin+des+annees+50++.jpg" height="203" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">
From L to R: Alexandre Nissim Benharoun,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>- </b>Chalom Lellouche</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>-</b> Edouard Zerbib</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>-</b> Sion Bouskila</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>-</b> Victor Assouline</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>-</b> Hayo Hassoun</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>-</b> The father of Chalom Lellouche but no Henri Levy...</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stand humbled before this particular record and I am
certainly not the first. Indeed, Cheikh Raymond was so taken by Henri Levy’s
voice that he represents the only other artist to have ever been featured on Leyris’
Constantine-based Hes El Moknine label.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To find out anything about Henri “Yosef” Levy, one has to
turn to the Algerian Jewish message boards. And yet, he is elusive even there.
The lone comment on a stunning photo of Constantinois rabbis from this late
1950s laments the fact that Rabbi Levy is missing from the image. On another
site, we are informed that Levy was not a rabbi at all but an “officiant,”
someone with rabbinical skills but without ordination. For anyone who has ever
been to an active synagogue in North Africa or attended a Maghribi service
anywhere, none of this will be surprising for it is the congregants that lead
the service. If there is a rabbi among the crowd, he can be difficult to find.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ4A9ggGzTLY0vxfecjQhOV4VeMmON8Zh5MmdUQsm6Dum1aJXUrAFkgwLDCB3O3fh9ymZ5lCqPkeHZilH7x0e0GCx4thaNuzOJJHzd3vW9t5Cx0LB7e7GgFFBksna6tS4GWcivUvwSzV3D/s1600/henrilevy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ4A9ggGzTLY0vxfecjQhOV4VeMmON8Zh5MmdUQsm6Dum1aJXUrAFkgwLDCB3O3fh9ymZ5lCqPkeHZilH7x0e0GCx4thaNuzOJJHzd3vW9t5Cx0LB7e7GgFFBksna6tS4GWcivUvwSzV3D/s1600/henrilevy.jpg" height="319" width="320" /></a>By day, Levy operated a printing press but at prayer time he
officiated at the synagogue close to the <i>lycée d’Aumale</i>. There he developed an
intimate relationship with none other than Cheikh Raymond. On <i>Forum Zlabia</i>
under the “Hazzanims de Constantine” thread “Benj” writes that Levy had, “a
fantastic voice and was the delight of the faithful during Shavuot.” He remarks
specifically on Levy’s recitation of the Seventh Commandment. Cheikh Raymond
was equally struck by Levy’s take on this piece of the liturgical tradition and
so much so that he pressed him into recording it. Thus on both sides of the 25
cm LP, Levy is accompanied by Cheikh Raymond and Sylvain Ghrennasia, Enrico
Macias’ father.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On another thread, “Benj” asked for more information on this
record. I have dutifully provided the first six minutes of it below. The spoken
introduction offers us a rare and precise time stamp (right before the month of Nisan 5718 - perhaps March 21, 1958). The chanting itself
provides us with a precious aural “glimpse” into the world of Jewish
Constantine in 1958. Knowing that all of this crumbles but a few
years after this record was made makes Levy’s voice seem all the more powerful.<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/156168893&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Like all of the other records in my collection, this one traveled. I’m not sure if Henri Levy brought copies of it with him when he
landed in Marseille but someone did and then it made its way to me. For me,
this record is symbolic of how temporary my hold on this music is. I don’t “own”
any of it but happen to have it at this very moment. For now, though, all I can
do is share. </div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-46589707190161307632014-04-30T14:32:00.000-07:002014-04-30T14:32:49.143-07:00Songs in the Key of Chakchouka: the North African Light and Comic Chanson<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6MpSHuk8WRaWlix-x4TyFNlHxbgFrI4Q55ji_OJT04e5YOuV5XwcIidBWddqzFpJTcW1YyQ2jtk23znuTvEBmAXhAxMQZZGzQO6_GzL5iq9kANk3k64Y9Li_-b4H2cLoWCkZlcm2ZpfJs/s1600/Yafilcomique.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6MpSHuk8WRaWlix-x4TyFNlHxbgFrI4Q55ji_OJT04e5YOuV5XwcIidBWddqzFpJTcW1YyQ2jtk23znuTvEBmAXhAxMQZZGzQO6_GzL5iq9kANk3k64Y9Li_-b4H2cLoWCkZlcm2ZpfJs/s1600/Yafilcomique.jpg" height="320" width="310" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><a href="http://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k13100020.r=.langFR" target="_blank">An early Edmond Nathan Yafil comic monologue at 90 rpm.</a></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Before David Guetta, there was his great grandfather Kiki
Guetta.</b> Born in Tunis at the end of the nineteenth century, Jacob “Kiki” Guetta
championed neither popular nor Andalusian music but rather the North African
comic song. Taking a cue from the light hearted repertoire then being refined
on vaudevillian stages as far afield as Paris and New York, Guetta adapted the
genre to Arabic, established his own troupe, and entertained mixed Muslim and
Jewish cabaret audiences beginning in the earliest years of the twentieth
century. When Gramophone released its first catalogue in Tunisia in 1910,
Guetta’s discs were featured prominently.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Guetta, like his Moroccan and Algerian Jewish contemporaries
who embraced the style, pushed the boundaries of the acceptable in public. On many
of his records, he ridiculed those in power, poked fun at his compatriots, and drew
attention to emerging social problems.</b> But, as his successors would soon do, he sang
about the more banal.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In some cases, the banal, or the light song, took the form
of translated ditties, like Guetta’s Arabic version of <i>La Petite Tonkinoise</i>,
while in other instances it meant connecting the latest international music
trend - often Latin - to the local palate. Perhaps nothing exemplifies this
better than the array of songs released toward the middle of the century on the
subject of chakchouka, the North African tomato and egg delicacy that many of
us have come to know and love. <b>Imar Maghy, for instance, a Tunisian Jewish
comic of the 1950s and 1960s, would set “chakchouka” to cha cha cha, pepper it with Arabic, and serve up wildly
popular results.</b> Even if the tune has little to do with cuisine itself, one can
surely appreciate the identitarian aspect of it. You will find a taste below.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/146673890%3Fsecret_token%3Ds-3onS9&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Not to be outdone was the Algerian <b>Blond Blond</b>, who sang
about both the merguez sausage and chakchouka, and his Sétif-born colleague <b>Alberto
Darmon aka Staïffi</b> (and his group: ses Mustaphas), who made his version of “chakchouka”
into a dance number while also putting the culinary delights of the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_G8CqzqAocY" target="_blank"><b>Belkacem</b></a>
restaurant - rhyming the Arabic word for “beans” with the French for
“unforgettable” - to a foot-tapping harmony.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.dailymotion.com/embed/video/x5cuh4" width="480"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x5cuh4_blond-blond-les-merguez-version-swi_music" target="_blank">Blond-Blond...Les merguez , version swing</a> <i>by <a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/marco68700" target="_blank">marco68700</a></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Of course, there is much more to be said on the subject of
Jews and comedy in North Africa in the first half of the twentieth century but an
outline will have to suffice for now. Comic monologues and songs can be counted
as among the earliest pieces to be recorded on wax cylinder across the
Maghreb. In Algeria, the impresario <b>Edmond Nathan Yafil</b> would bring the <i>scène
comique</i> to large audiences, impressing none other than <b>Mahieddine Bachetarzi</b>,
who himself would take Algerian comedy and theater to the next level.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I would also be remiss in not mentioning that a number of
these pioneers of comic song, along with their stand-up counterparts, made their
way to France and Israel around mid-century, including the Moroccan <b>Maurice
Lusky</b>, who can be heard below doing his classic “drunkard” sketch with <b>Raymonde
El Bidaouia</b>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/51497253&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">I will have to leave it here but welcome further thoughts and comments. <b>In
the meantime, good listening, bon appétit, and b’saha!</b></span>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-65366789108270006762014-02-21T21:49:00.000-08:002014-02-21T21:49:50.840-08:00Sliman Elmaghribi and Jaffa's Moroccan Sound<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those in the know, know Sliman Elmaghribi. Elmaghribi, born
Sliman Benhamou in Meknes, came to define the Moroccan sound in Jaffa in the
1950s and 1960s. And that sound was nothing if not ubiquitous. It could be
heard at once blasting from the Azoulay’s shop near the center of town and
wafting out of the rough and tumble night clubs - the hamara - dotting the
city’s alleyways. There were the Andalusian practitioners there to be sure but Tel
Aviv’s better half also drew in those who were ready to sing about their more
contemporary experiences in hybrid styles all their own. Sliman, difficult to
categorize, falls somewhere into all of this. The ultra-talented singer and
oudist was both a major recording star for the Zakiphon label and a musician’s
musician who sometimes slipped under the radar. He knew and loved Cheikh Mwijo,
indeed the two played together back in Morocco, but seemed to avoid some of his
friend’s more extroverted qualities. He was adored by the masters of a previous
generation, like Zohra El Fassia and Samy Elmaghribi, and yet never adopted the
honorific that so many of his peers were bestowed. What can be said for sure is
that Sliman Elmaghribi was prolific and accomplished, putting out album after
album for decades and attracting more and more fans along the way. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtVSzqxlF2RQyc4Dy5PUrlDUiUV1fPjz4tWQEVxOTOmEK5NSBjHBEpSn08VX5IqD12ZWFzbsorDt5FVYQe9I97c5RKYSW1eMPILzDDaLr-dUuheAQERR9q-K3DDaEOw3VYnnCKFft6iuq6/s1600/Muallem+Ben+Haroush+and+his+band.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtVSzqxlF2RQyc4Dy5PUrlDUiUV1fPjz4tWQEVxOTOmEK5NSBjHBEpSn08VX5IqD12ZWFzbsorDt5FVYQe9I97c5RKYSW1eMPILzDDaLr-dUuheAQERR9q-K3DDaEOw3VYnnCKFft6iuq6/s1600/Muallem+Ben+Haroush+and+his+band.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Young Sliman Elmaghribi (far left) with Maalem David Ben Haroush and Jacob Zerad</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His “Yaffo Zint Elbldan” (roughly translated as Jaffa the
Beautiful) gives us a slice of what all of this sounded like. It is his homage
to the city he spent so much time in and grew to love - despite its very real
problems. As you listen to this track, try to put yourself in its time. Imagine
yourself winding your way to an address best found by looking for landmarks and
not numbers. As you enter the smoke-filled venue, recall that the Kuwaiti
brothers are somewhere nearby entertaining Iraqi audiences. Order a round of
beers and pickled vegetables as Sliman sets up with his orchestra. Close your
eyes as he begins to strum. Yaffo Zint Elbldan for you and for others is now
the city’s unofficial anthem.</div>
<br />
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/136095237%3Fsecret_token%3Ds-JVP5U&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe></div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-34562093751169224892013-12-24T09:02:00.000-08:002013-12-24T09:02:42.506-08:00When La Mamma Became Ya Yemma: Lili Boniche, Charles Aznavour, and Algerian Cover Songs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxiTc1x4spA0lf740HDzZvoSPRlp5hxRQ0xHOPfj-ByIpWt6TvOlkp3WKlLy0rcCjr7D3vM1EdDqfL_P5AiHUrIJjWQxBOcrIgmPQlULZn_zdqOTzaPTUNUGJ-zNKRcB1qI4YGZE7k2bk/s1600/mahieddine-bachtarzi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxiTc1x4spA0lf740HDzZvoSPRlp5hxRQ0xHOPfj-ByIpWt6TvOlkp3WKlLy0rcCjr7D3vM1EdDqfL_P5AiHUrIJjWQxBOcrIgmPQlULZn_zdqOTzaPTUNUGJ-zNKRcB1qI4YGZE7k2bk/s1600/mahieddine-bachtarzi.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A young Mahieddine Bachetarzi</i>. 1920s?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Somewhere in an attic or an archive exists a recording of
Mahieddine Bachetarzi singing Josephine Baker’s iconic <i>J’ai deux amours</i>.</b> Why he
chose to cover this particular song and what meaning one can discern from a
national figure like Bachetarzi singing about his love for two nations during
the turbulent 1930s will have to remain but speculation for now. What this does
suggest, however, is the existence of “the cover” as a genre during the middle
third of the twentieth century in Algeria. In fact, if it was one thing that
Algerian Muslim and Jewish musicians shared, it was a passion for covering the
hits. Covers took a variety of forms during this period but the most
intriguing, as already eluded to, was the phenomenon of translating mostly French
language <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">chansons </i>into Arabic and in
that process, giving them entirely new meanings.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Perhaps the best known of these cover artists was one
<b>Mahieddine Bentir</b>, of whom <a href="http://swedenburg.blogspot.com/2013/10/algerian-twist.html" target="_blank">Ted Swedenburg has written about recently</a>. Bentir,
born in 1934 in Algiers, hit on something big in the 1950s when he began
transforming American rock ‘n’ roll into “rock oriental” and set French genres
to Algerian rhythms. He brought tremendous energy to his position at the <i>RTF</i>
(Radiodiffusion-Télévision Française) in Algeria and as an independent artist,
one who was fond of doing summersaults on stage at a particularly rockin’
moment. He has cited <b>Robert Castel</b>, Lili Labassi’s son, as one of his
inspirations. Bentir’s <b>Ana Bouhali</b>, his appropriation of the classic <i>Je Suis Le
Vagabond</i>, captures a certain slice of music hall Algeria in the 1950s
perfectly. <b>Here’s a short version of the French and then Bentir’s exhilarating
Arabic rendition:</b><br />
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/OrhSqYQ0wzc" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<iframe frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/67398173&color=ff6600&auto_play=false&show_artwork=true" width="100%"></iframe><br /></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx27n3Iluf9OqeP1ibOZmBiC6IELGaVdkzfZh-W23ortliu-JbkuYM0eP7Pt3Xs6WWxa3Iot1KML8HOBEFS9mU9K_YJXmidjIXg9PBKRY8lAHvPDaNj_unKh6IRnnC5-sNPYoqmkjD7rwo/s1600/lili_boniche.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx27n3Iluf9OqeP1ibOZmBiC6IELGaVdkzfZh-W23ortliu-JbkuYM0eP7Pt3Xs6WWxa3Iot1KML8HOBEFS9mU9K_YJXmidjIXg9PBKRY8lAHvPDaNj_unKh6IRnnC5-sNPYoqmkjD7rwo/s320/lili_boniche.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Lili Boniche performs at the Salle Pierre Bordes - Algiers, 1959</i></span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Lili Boniche</b>, also known as “the Crooner of the Casbah,” was
another cover cheikh. Born in 1921 to a Jewish Algerois family, <i>le jeune</i>
Boniche was already making a splash in the Algerian papers by the mid-1930s, an
especially impressive feat given his age at the time. Boniche became a staple
of Algerian radio during the period and then began recording 78 rpm records for
the <i>Pacific</i> label in the 1940s. He is most famous for his hit songs (all of which were later covered by others) <b><i>Elle Est Partie</i> (<i>Mchate
aliya</i>)</b>, <i><b>Eili Mektoub</b></i>, <i><b>Carmelita</b></i>, and <i><b>Bambino</b></i>, the last an Arabic cover of the Neapolitan
song, <i>Guaglione</i>, which was then all the rage in Europe and soon North Africa.
Throughout his Algerian career, Boniche attracted tremendously
large, mixed audiences.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsfDF-yZMn6FssffhlpVmaff9zZuVZzzy7s17Wide3Jga1Z3gSO46uopuGgOUqTEXVL2atGL2kmSdOLivbgSsuORdv6rsxsBM2ZKbyk60QgwpC6jcjQnwrnHSvCu0C8yIhuTrQw7M0PICT/s1600/21999.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsfDF-yZMn6FssffhlpVmaff9zZuVZzzy7s17Wide3Jga1Z3gSO46uopuGgOUqTEXVL2atGL2kmSdOLivbgSsuORdv6rsxsBM2ZKbyk60QgwpC6jcjQnwrnHSvCu0C8yIhuTrQw7M0PICT/s320/21999.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Luc Cherki in all his disco glory. 1979.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Many have argued, in what appears to be a historiographic
misstep, that Boniche, for a number of personal reasons, all but stopped
performing in France upon his arrival there. This position helps to bolster the
claim that he was “rediscovered” in the early 1990s by Bill Laswell, among
others. In fact, a review of his releases reveals the opposite - Boniche
recorded constantly and consistently through the 1960s and 1970s, both for his
own <i><b>LB</b></i> <b>label</b> and for <b>El Kahlaoui Tounsi’s <i>Dounia</i></b>. Shockingly, he even cut a
<b>disco</b> EP, much like <b>Luc Cherki</b>, in the late 1970s.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ndYFqhcSEZWb7-TRjRqHaG1eVi46U-cS8Zk0HClBmk2Tqe4cljZcybfg90ApneZP0MeSmZoP3_FEOMtgUTGb9RjyLYgWGHe-2roHfY8JxN_WjinUGf7g3v5W5z-HM42ptrQU_guYZmjg/s1600/photo-69.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ndYFqhcSEZWb7-TRjRqHaG1eVi46U-cS8Zk0HClBmk2Tqe4cljZcybfg90ApneZP0MeSmZoP3_FEOMtgUTGb9RjyLYgWGHe-2roHfY8JxN_WjinUGf7g3v5W5z-HM42ptrQU_guYZmjg/s320/photo-69.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Lili Boniche. Ya Yemma (La Mamma). LB Disques. 1963.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
If Boniche took a break from music, it was possibly during
that traumatic and confusing year of Algerian independence, although there is only
scant evidence to support this. Whatever the case, he was certainly “back” on
the scene as of 1963.<b> It was that year that Charles Aznavour’s <i>La Mamma</i> had
reached the number one spot on charts across the continent and unsurprisingly,
Boniche chose to cover it for the A side of his first release on his new label.</b>
<b>In my opinion, Boniche’s Arabic version – <i>Ya Yemma</i> – is even more powerful than
the original.</b> Clearly not just a lament for a mother, <i>Ya Yemma</i> can easily be
“read” or heard as a longing for Algeria itself. Below you will find both the
Aznavour original and the Boniche cover with the <i><b>Lucien Attard Orchestre</b></i>
playing back up. Take a listen:<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/FSRGHZZVqJk" width="420"></iframe></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<iframe frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/71591028&color=ff6600&auto_play=false&show_artwork=true" width="100%"></iframe><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Finally, I would be remiss in not mentioning <b>Salim Halali</b>,
<a href="http://jewishmorocco.blogspot.com/2013/11/jewish-morocco-turns-5-salim-halali.html" target="_blank">the subject of my last post</a>, and his Arabic take on another song about mothers,
the Yiddish classic <i><b>My Yiddishe Mama</b></i>. Below is a classic Cantor Yossele Rosenblatt version
and the later Halali adaptation. I dare say this is the only Yiddish song ever
translated into Arabic but I would be happy to be proven wrong.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/dwxXdb8zU9c" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/U0LNPoWt684" width="420"></iframe>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Until next time…Happy New Year to all.</b></div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-24974548548891497102013-11-11T08:44:00.000-08:002013-11-11T08:45:58.640-08:00Jewish Morocco Turns 5! Salim Halali, Taali, & Change<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNNhDklFcfo9-TqCjO70lPHMsPAehWQL5nyHbBLRNc3IkayY9qcvjGg0FIuSiydNvEnnfxoxyOWkNezO__NqUi8E5h8vPAHhJGF5UbqH7mgfQnQolDg4ghRPXZ_Aw_fDar56huy3r5dsYl/s1600/SalimHallali2_zps53aaec31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNNhDklFcfo9-TqCjO70lPHMsPAehWQL5nyHbBLRNc3IkayY9qcvjGg0FIuSiydNvEnnfxoxyOWkNezO__NqUi8E5h8vPAHhJGF5UbqH7mgfQnQolDg4ghRPXZ_Aw_fDar56huy3r5dsYl/s320/SalimHallali2_zps53aaec31.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Salim Halali in pose. 1970s?</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In his memoirs, <b>Mahieddine Bachetarzi</b>, the “Caruso of the
Desert” and founding father of Algerian theater, describes <b>Salim Halali</b> as
having <b>“the greatest Arab male voice”</b> of the post-War period. Halali’s music,
blending Latin styles like flamenco and paso doble with popular Arabic pieces
written by the likes of <b>Gaston Bsiri</b> and <b>Mohamed El Kamel</b>, was at once
distinctly modern and traditional. It was also everywhere. By 1946, you could
catch Halali multiple times a week on Algerian radio. His records, made exclusively
for Pathé in the 78 rpm era, were sold in Algeria’s major cities, across the
Maghreb, and in Paris and Marseilles. Some have gone as far as to call him
North Africa’s first pop superstar and when considering his dashing good looks,
his swoon-inducing voice (among women and men), and international appeal –
sought out by <b>Um Kulthum</b> and others, it’s not difficult to see and hear why.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaMCG7JseOb67h9qYsBCrdWejAWdW7Dd6C62Dex3YRICrIt4TTMIooYWOgY_-qRRd9fL6L7Oawa_b5fAOcDtnhAzjRxRxwvK9S_CeFE6V-Eea4Jvon88O0V59ONabzRfzgrOvQL1SyS97w/s1600/salimyoung.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaMCG7JseOb67h9qYsBCrdWejAWdW7Dd6C62Dex3YRICrIt4TTMIooYWOgY_-qRRd9fL6L7Oawa_b5fAOcDtnhAzjRxRxwvK9S_CeFE6V-Eea4Jvon88O0V59ONabzRfzgrOvQL1SyS97w/s320/salimyoung.jpg" width="262" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A very young Halali in Algeria</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Halali
is deserving of a full-length biography but I won’t get into all of the details
here. In broad strokes, Halali remained in Paris during the War years (apparently
hidden from Vichy with the help of the Grand Mosque), established the
“oriental” music venue <b><i>Ismaïlia Folies</i></b> in 1947 before moving to Casablanca to
open a similar cabaret in the form of <b><i>Coq D’Or</i>.</b> He eventually returned to
France, release dozens of songs, and toured the world along the way. For many, he retired too early. He lived
out his last days in the solitude of a retirement home on France’s southeastern
coast. He died at the age of 85 in 2005.
</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK3rWvSCEu0EVwnAjcUMjJqDVuP5KvymBvvjXarLL8L4QGN0NiwEXbysqyii6nZlfCovG1nUWgFBR-cLgSPXDymjmFsXCL-h78RL0O79whsM8jlrCs02GN1nV4HGMbjt9C0YoMGAo_Jgc2/s1600/coqdor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK3rWvSCEu0EVwnAjcUMjJqDVuP5KvymBvvjXarLL8L4QGN0NiwEXbysqyii6nZlfCovG1nUWgFBR-cLgSPXDymjmFsXCL-h78RL0O79whsM8jlrCs02GN1nV4HGMbjt9C0YoMGAo_Jgc2/s320/coqdor.jpg" width="202" /></a><br />
Halali represents a sort of musical continuum between Arab
and Jewish at a moment when the two were being torn apart in Algeria. Born in
Annaba in 1920, Simon, as he was then known, lived a fully Algerian Jewish life
complete with a passion for music. His gift of voice was noticed early and by
his teens he had, like many other North African musicians of his generation,
relocated to Paris to try his luck in the cabaret scene there. He soon met the
already mentioned <b>Mohamed El Kamel</b> and the duo produced a truly remarkable
number of hits. One of them, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Taali</i>, is
among the more moving and evocative love songs I have ever laid ears upon. I
have reproduced it below. My suggestion, before listening, is to pour yourself
a glass of wine or non-alcoholic beverage (North African, preferably) and cuddle up with someone special.
Then hit play. Open a window because it might get hot.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<iframe frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/119522237%3Fsecret_token%3Ds-ACEDY" width="100%"></iframe><br />
<br />
I have seen copies of this record turn up in various forms
in places as diverse as Tunis and Jaffa. It is little surprise then that it has
recently found a new, younger audience eager to pay homage to the original. The
unbelievably talented team of <b>Neta Elkayam</b> and <b>Amit Hai Cohen</b>, Israeli artists
of Moroccan origin, have created this mind blowing version below. One can only
imagine Halali approving and then joining in.<br />
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/rWxzHyNZlSE" width="560"></iframe>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
This sultry jazz version by Georgian-French singer <b>THékO</b>
also deserves a listen. It seems like nearly eighty years after its original
release, Taali and Salim Halali are enjoying a comeback.<br />
<br />
<iframe frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/78633499" width="100%"></iframe>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNYLwvBJwRPun3oo3nDiIEkqYZmf2KD8IPJQk6InqcbOvsv6tat6juOSMtPtT6eLlrqaIgUa6he_DWxfn3PfntAEqbIt1k_IBZge93vePbIeXVuT7Tf0n6zRTXZ1oXPIamxIq3NnOmpapw/s1600/salim+halali+-+oudiste.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNYLwvBJwRPun3oo3nDiIEkqYZmf2KD8IPJQk6InqcbOvsv6tat6juOSMtPtT6eLlrqaIgUa6he_DWxfn3PfntAEqbIt1k_IBZge93vePbIeXVuT7Tf0n6zRTXZ1oXPIamxIq3NnOmpapw/s320/salim+halali+-+oudiste.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Halali on oud</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Five years ago, when this blog launched, I could have never
predicted any of this.</b> In fact, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you much
about Salim Halali or anyone else making up this constellation of Maghrebi
Jewish stars. I was living in Washington, DC at the time and daydreaming of
Morocco constantly. In my previous Moroccan travels, I felt like I had just
scratched the surface of the Maghreb and I had grown desperate to find the most
remote traces of Jewish life from the Sous to the Sahara and everywhere in
between. I quit my job, headed to Morocco, recorded what I found, and for a
long time that was what this blog was. On a return visit I happened on that now
iconic record store in Casablanca and “discovered” <b>Haim Botbol</b> in cassette
form. I digitized the tape, uploaded it, and the internet (you) encouraged me
to keep going. I started collecting and listening and then really connecting. As
I assembled this history record by record, I made sure to keep putting pieces
online and writing about these complicated and talented larger than life
figures. Soon relatives contacted me. Fans of the original musicians sent me
emails and letters (and the occasional record). I met this cohort wherever they
were to be found: in Tangier and Tel Aviv and Marrakesh and Marseilles. When I
was lucky, I even had the opportunity to sit with the musicians themselves. I
also have gotten to know others on this journey, who, like me, are trying to
bring this music out of the storage room and back onto the turntable. Through
it all, I have faithfully inhaled my share of dust, climbed dangerously rickety
ladders in order to peek into an attic, and spent countless hours walking the
medina in rising temperatures, all in search of these elusive, fragile, and yet
resilient records.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Five years later I can proclaim loudly that <b>Zohra El Fassia</b>,
<b>Marie Soussan</b>, and <b>Habiba Messika </b>have left an indelible mark on my life. I
have dedicated myself full time (graduate school) to the endeavor of telling
their story and the stories of the whole enterprise and I couldn’t be happier. Each
one of these personalities complicates something we know, fragments binaries, and
further enriches that thing we call History. It is nothing less than a
soundtrack of this era and has been missing for too long.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Things have certainly changed since 2008. Elkayam and Cohen,
in the clip above, recently performed the works of <b>Zohra El Fassia</b>, <b>Jacob
Abitbol</b>, and <b>Albert Suissa</b> in Essaouira at the <i>Festival des Andalousies
Atlantiques</i>, and in many ways have brought all of this full circle. The
audience welcomed them with open arms, greeting the two with a certain
contagious enthusiasm before joining in themselves.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/7CUF2Mc2nrg" width="560"></iframe>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<b>This blog, I hope, will also change.</b> I aim to retitle it,
redesign it, make it more truly pan-Maghrebi, and come to focus more and more
on those rarest of rare 78 rpm records. To do that requires time and an
investment in the right technology and I will be calling on you to help with
both. In the meantime, if you have suggestions, requests, leads, and so on, please do send my
way. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Finally, thank you, choukrane, todah, and merci for all of your love
and support over the years. It is appreciated more than you will ever know.</b></div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-16870594704056195962013-09-23T08:58:00.001-07:002013-09-23T09:10:41.127-07:00Tunisia's 78 rpm Era: Reflections on Habiba Messika, Cheikh El Afrite & My Recent Travel to Tunis<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjreuIt2K4ttQnlknO7vp1lMqBEayHY3jkxoci3kLZaeGMXaSGXaha5hTU-JXlZ_XND2S2Fy4ln6C1w46X0Wcbn61dQldRWmtYDjUqlmKarmE09SSJBgjfWcKiLgOPXOK1YoDYGvfxa-hrE/s1600/IMG_1285.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjreuIt2K4ttQnlknO7vp1lMqBEayHY3jkxoci3kLZaeGMXaSGXaha5hTU-JXlZ_XND2S2Fy4ln6C1w46X0Wcbn61dQldRWmtYDjUqlmKarmE09SSJBgjfWcKiLgOPXOK1YoDYGvfxa-hrE/s400/IMG_1285.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Jewish cemetery at Bourgel in Tunis</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK7wwI6SlthNgwMBJ7sG6YtxYFYS44z5OJ58ghzJ4oFBNsclCHDOxKIDOIhNpAV_iaQ-AXhYqj3c8SZmVrtFzhl1JLsnhvdgLpkNSnECaf25skTDbybr1fWxePQg7RnBJWeT4ina6HpPr_/s1600/IMG_1283.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK7wwI6SlthNgwMBJ7sG6YtxYFYS44z5OJ58ghzJ4oFBNsclCHDOxKIDOIhNpAV_iaQ-AXhYqj3c8SZmVrtFzhl1JLsnhvdgLpkNSnECaf25skTDbybr1fWxePQg7RnBJWeT4ina6HpPr_/s320/IMG_1283.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Cheikh El Afrite's grave at Bourgel</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On my final day in post-revolutionary Tunisia, I headed to
the vast Jewish cemetery at Bourgel aiming to find and pay tribute to the final
resting places of Tunis’ musical superstars of years past. While the cemetery
itself is in a discouraging state of disrepair, the tombs of <b>Habiba Messika</b> and
<b>Cheikh El Afrite</b>, two of said <i>vedettes</i>, are readily identifiable, if not
difficult to reach. There is a feeling one gets when visiting a mostly
abandoned Jewish cemetery in North Africa. In seeking a particular grave, you
often have to wade through trash, sidestep discarded beer bottles, whack away
overgrowth, and climb over other broken graves with names no longer legible.
When you reach your destination, it is both unsettling and uplifting and most
certainly a religious experience.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLX_ONMvHEBXEdpdXD8fGfum6ptj0Vk87IlxQJxk7LHSD1hQjwWtXqZFi8kxyaU5529Am1MDv5bHnwqxLbWuyPPqly-kOetgQtxFNT5RYZnQ7K7LPso3tkb9c7vofY2L-OWnWh7frfPPPK/s1600/IMG_1207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLX_ONMvHEBXEdpdXD8fGfum6ptj0Vk87IlxQJxk7LHSD1hQjwWtXqZFi8kxyaU5529Am1MDv5bHnwqxLbWuyPPqly-kOetgQtxFNT5RYZnQ7K7LPso3tkb9c7vofY2L-OWnWh7frfPPPK/s320/IMG_1207.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Cassette digging for Habiba Messika</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Tunisians’ memory of Habiba
Messika, the young Jewish singer, actress, and diva, who took Tunis by storm in
the 1920s, is at once fierce and fading. Her cassettes, made from copies of
copies of her scare 78 rpm recordings, are easily available in the myriad CD
and tape shops around the city. Ask just about anyone – young or old – and they
“remember” her. This, of course, is despite the fact that most do not actually
remember. While Messika’s brutal murder by a jealous suitor was front-page news
across the Maghreb and in Paris at the time, it also occurred over eighty years
ago, in 1930, and most were not around to ever see her or hear her live at the
<i>Municipal Theatre</i>, at the <i>Casino</i> in <b>La Goulette</b>, or anywhere else. Much like
her music now, the memories of Messika are copies of copies. Of course, this
makes them no less real but as a result certain details have fallen to the
wayside. Thus her Jewishness, very real at the time, comes as shock to quite a
few when revealed. Messika, like so many other things in Tunis, has been
nationalized.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIuHfOyXlK7VUbFCDQ5oe0ouiSFTjEOe4I047KqxzCWoFqKo0ohSWnUNKg8m1aVSO4zxESvt1oBTb1nzS90UZahdVjphNTrB4b5Q3h3tY5mHWSNh_DpabVk2xs0_WIODN_WA1unCBb2iH/s1600/IMG_1270.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIuHfOyXlK7VUbFCDQ5oe0ouiSFTjEOe4I047KqxzCWoFqKo0ohSWnUNKg8m1aVSO4zxESvt1oBTb1nzS90UZahdVjphNTrB4b5Q3h3tY5mHWSNh_DpabVk2xs0_WIODN_WA1unCBb2iH/s320/IMG_1270.jpg" width="251" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Stack of broken 78s with Narraci sleeve peeking out</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Between meetings and visits to the
archives, I went in search of records. On one of my first days in the country,
I was encouraged by a find in the medina: a stack of shellac, all with purple sleeves
of <b>Joseph Narraci</b>, one of the earliest indigenous (and Jewish) record companies
in North Africa. Unfortunately, not a one contained a Narraci-produced record.
In fact, most Tunisian records, especially 78s, have disappeared, many thrown
out in the transition to vinyl, others captive in storage spaces around Tunisia
and in attics in Paris. What stock does exist – in the medina, brocantes, and
the occasional used bookstore - is either Western rock or Egyptian. If you’re
looking for <b>Um Kulthum</b> on Odeon, you’re in luck, if you’re searching for <b>Gaston
Bsiri</b>, <i>bonne chance</i>. While this was personally disappointing, it also served in
a way as a testament to a phenomenon reported on by Tunisian observers of the
78-era – Egyptian discs were flooding the market. Only by supporting local
artists, critics claimed, could this deluge be averted.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
After a little less than two weeks
in Tunis (not nearly enough time), I left feeling nostalgic for a place I never
really knew. Strolling down Rue Al-Djazair, adjacent to the medina, brings one
face-to-face with the once flagship record store of <b>Joseph Narraci</b>, as well as
one of the former cinema districts of the silent and then talkie era. Cutting
over to Rue Charles De Gaulle, transports you to the small empire of <b>Bembaron</b>,
Jewish brothers and impresarios, who began their work by importing harmoniums
and ended by creating a powerhouse label which captured the some of the city’s
most impressive voices. The TGM (Tunis-La Goulette-Marsa) train is a journey
back in time. As it traces the edge of the lake, children pry open the doors to
get that fresh, salted wind in their face, only to be pulled back by the scruff
of their necks by a responsible adult – much the same, I imagine, as it was
sixty years ago. Descending at the <i>La Goulette – Casino</i> stop hurls you straight
into Tunis’ music-hall capital, where Jews, Sicilians, Maltese, Greeks, and
Muslims jostled for a seat at one of the various music venues around town. At
the Casino, one might have caught a show by <b>Messika</b> and <b>Hassan Banane</b>, <b>Cheikh
El Afrite</b> or <b>Dalila Taliana</b>. As I dined at one of the seaside restaurants -
with some of the freshest fish I have ever tasted - I daydreamed of <b>Raoul
Journo</b>, perhaps with <b>Kakino De Paz</b>, crooning about exil in <i>El Ouach ouel Ghorba</i>.<br />
<br /></div>
<object height="50" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://freemusicarchive.org/swf/trackplayer.swf"/><param name="flashvars" value="track=http://freemusicarchive.org/services/playlists/embed/track/10512.xml"/><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="sameDomain"/><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://freemusicarchive.org/swf/trackplayer.swf" width="300" height="50" flashvars="track=http://freemusicarchive.org/services/playlists/embed/track/10512.xml" allowscriptaccess="sameDomain" /></object>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Nostalgia is a double-edged sword
though, as it requires absence to make it its most powerful. During my first
day in the archives, a young graduate student took an interest in me and we
began a conversation. She asked me what I worked on and I told her I was studying
the early years of the North African recording industry. She said I must study
the Jewish musicians then if I was really serious about the topic. Encouraged,
I told her that that was indeed my focus and in fact, I was Jewish. She went
blank. You can’t say that here, she said. Not everyone was as open as she was,
she claimed. Similarly, while <b>Bachir Rsaissi’s</b> <i>Rsaissi</i> label draws instant
recognition among those in the know, the uttering of his Jewish counterparts –
<b>Narraci</b> and <b>Bembaron</b> - is met with confusion and the polite protest that those
names, in fact, are not Tunisian. <b>Acher Mizrahi</b>, a favorite of <b>Habib Bourghiba</b>
long after independence, also sounds impossibly foreign to some.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ZSyCUPCrJCVZL4Zrj1IXy654gYJ5fRYO-ZAxvoh30SjC5FGB2s3JKU-4saaLSJQ7JOSfRUH-kypJn-Na9uLMwlM7uCOvTV1rCifhm5alxFKkBUzJhvA5SA-xM9942KmLA8IbaI1_nXfz/s1600/IMG_1269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ZSyCUPCrJCVZL4Zrj1IXy654gYJ5fRYO-ZAxvoh30SjC5FGB2s3JKU-4saaLSJQ7JOSfRUH-kypJn-Na9uLMwlM7uCOvTV1rCifhm5alxFKkBUzJhvA5SA-xM9942KmLA8IbaI1_nXfz/s320/IMG_1269.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>El Kahlaoui Tounsi 45 in a dust-filled brocante</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Despite all this (or perhaps
because of it), Tunisia has grabbed my attention in a way I never thought it
would. The Tunisians I spent time with were all supportive of my work, even if
it was not their area of expertise. Many went completely out of their way to
help me and I hope by giving a little more volume to the critically important
history of the music industry in North Africa, I can someday soon return the
favor.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
</div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1432158977956119367.post-4545884694736170772013-07-18T05:46:00.002-07:002013-07-18T05:46:43.029-07:00Marhaba Tunis: New Music Mix, Tunisia’s Jewish Musicians, and Summer Travel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style>
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Times;
panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
a:link, span.MsoHyperlink
{color:blue;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}
a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed
{color:purple;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}
p
{margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-ascii-font-family:Times;
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Times;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
</style>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Summer
is here my friends: Turn on the fan, pour yourself a refreshing drink, close
the shutters a bit, relax and refresh yourself in this paradise-inducing
musical oasis,” writes Guillaume le Roux for <a href="http://www.716-music.com/">716
Music</a> on my recent music mix. You can read his full write-up on my efforts,
<a href="http://www.716-music.com/2013/07/716-exclusive-mixes-jewish-morocco.html">here</a>.
In honor of my August and September travel to Tunis and Paris (which will
include research and record digging – any tips more than welcome!), I have put
together the above-described mix of some of Tunisia’s finest male Jewish
musicians. The mix, which I have dubbed <i>Marhaba Tunis</i>, can be downloaded below.
In a recent tweet, <a href="http://www.afropop.org/wp/" target="_blank">Afropop Worldwide</a> described it in the following terms, “We
cannot say enough about how dope this mix of Tunisian music from <a href="http://www.twitter.com/jewishmorocco" target="_blank">@JewishMorocco</a>
is. (hint- VERY) LISTEN!!”<span id="goog_847705077"></span><span id="goog_847705078"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Two
final notes before we get to the music and the rest of the post:</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">1. You
can find more details on Tunisia’s music scene and background on the artists
featured on this mix after the jump.</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">2. I
will be blogging from the Maghreb and France for the rest of the summer so be
sure to visit the site often. There will be additional updates on my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/jewishmorocco">Facebook</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/JewishMorocco">Twitter</a>.</span><br />
<br />
</div>
<iframe frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.mixcloud.com/widget/iframe/?feed=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.mixcloud.com%2F716music%2F716-exclusive-mix-jewish-morocco-chris-silver-marhaba-tunis-mix%2F&embed_uuid=67cfc07f-aee3-4c85-a09a-be0d03a4a872&stylecolor=&embed_type=widget_standard" width="480"></iframe><br />
<div style="clear: both; height: 3px; width: 472px;">
</div>
<div style="color: #02a0c7; display: block; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0; padding: 3px 4px; width: 472px;">
<a href="http://www.mixcloud.com/716music/716-exclusive-mix-jewish-morocco-chris-silver-marhaba-tunis-mix/?utm_source=widget&utm_medium=web&utm_campaign=base_links&utm_term=resource_link" style="color: #02a0c7; font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">716 Exclusive Mix - Jewish Morocco (Chris Silver) : Marhaba Tunis Mix</a> by <a href="http://www.mixcloud.com/716music/?utm_source=widget&utm_medium=web&utm_campaign=base_links&utm_term=profile_link" style="color: #02a0c7; font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">716 Music</a> on <a href="http://www.mixcloud.com/?utm_source=widget&utm_medium=web&utm_campaign=base_links&utm_term=homepage_link" style="color: #02a0c7; font-weight: bold;" target="_blank"> Mixcloud</a></div>
<div style="clear: both; height: 3px;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<b><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><a href="https://www.wetransfer.com/downloads/45fb5a2afadd62f768f144e39c2e7b2820130715105514/a67baa">Download</a></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Kakino de Paz – Taksim Rasd</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">El Kahlaoui Tounsi – Men jarr aalaya</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Maurice Meimoun – Khalli rabbi
yetfakkarni</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Cheikh El Afrit – Gued ma amelt maak</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Jose de Suza - Consolacion</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">A. Perez – Ya Beladi</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Raoul Journo – Sellemt fik ya biladi</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Raoul Journo – Ahla Ouassahla</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Kakino de Paz – Teksim Naïm</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<u><b><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Brief Historical Note on Tunisia’s
Jewish Stars</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></b></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidN5cJlStMaPkIoT4g2DgDcQLMmlbo-2rBMmJUSjXuovwazrzxe3s0lpoXkEtlyZz5w1cXx4irnzAve0qC7foRQ7N4gkbrSKkk0G-4FlQm4t2CPEtxRMFX2l0XFUndQbTPrpPx0fGlsdux/s1600/josedesuza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidN5cJlStMaPkIoT4g2DgDcQLMmlbo-2rBMmJUSjXuovwazrzxe3s0lpoXkEtlyZz5w1cXx4irnzAve0qC7foRQ7N4gkbrSKkk0G-4FlQm4t2CPEtxRMFX2l0XFUndQbTPrpPx0fGlsdux/s1600/josedesuza.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Youcef Hedjaj aka Jose de Suza</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Naturally, I have spoken most often on
this blog about the world of Moroccan Jewish music-makers. Over the last couple
years, I have delved into Algeria’s robust Jewish soundscape as well. I have
given the least attention to Tunisia up until this point, although Algeria’s
eastern neighbor deserves our attention since the country is as much a part of
the story as the rest of the Maghreb. I won’t go into all of the details of the
Tunisian music scene at this point but suffice it to say that Jewish
participation mirrors, if not exceeds, that of their Maghrebi Jewish counterparts
to the west.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheeHYZPy9HRKD1PSi7k658SL976Kf2zudmF4CfAcAIocazjGQTEEmweIE0Mbf2fXfWbptnFWqev7rTtcdoznpAFgObl2m3OWy5cxRGBVZGhCZfur61CkefQYKdguYfXXXzU7pb3RE_F6cR/s1600/Louisa-Tounsia-tumblr_mkpmczvV7h1qjm0dlo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheeHYZPy9HRKD1PSi7k658SL976Kf2zudmF4CfAcAIocazjGQTEEmweIE0Mbf2fXfWbptnFWqev7rTtcdoznpAFgObl2m3OWy5cxRGBVZGhCZfur61CkefQYKdguYfXXXzU7pb3RE_F6cR/s320/Louisa-Tounsia-tumblr_mkpmczvV7h1qjm0dlo1_500.jpg" width="237" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Louisa Tounsia née Saadoun</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Fritna Darmon, Maurice Attoun, Messaoud
Habib, Abramino Berda, Bichi Slama, Chaloum Saada, Leila Sfez, Gaston Bsiri,
Mademoiselle Dalila, Cheikh El Afrite, Doukha, Louisa Tounsia, Raoul Journo, Habiba Messika,
Youcef Hedjaj, and Acher Mizrahi are but a small sampling of the Tunisian Jewish performers
who defined and shaped their industry throughout the course of the first sixty-plus years
of the twentieth century. A few details on Habiba Messika and Acher Mizrahi
demonstrate the diversity of these performers and their impact, both of which
are recalled fondly to this day. Habiba Messika, described as the Tunisian
Sarah Bernhardt by observers in the 1920s, recorded extensively until her
shocking death by arson at the hands of a jealous (Jewish) lover at the too-young
age of twenty-seven. Throngs of Jews and Muslims came out for her funeral and
both Jewish and Muslim popular artists (like Mademoiselle Flifla and Bachir
Fahmy) penned songs in her honor. Some of those 78 rpm records were even sold to the
American market on the Victor label. Acher Mizrahi was born outside of
Jerusalem at the end of the nineteenth century. A hazzan by trade, he
eventually settled in Tunis where he became not only the city’s most famous
cantor but a major popular music figure as well (something which seems
unimaginable today). He wrote lyrics for Cheikh El Afrite, recorded on his own,
and collaborated with the likes of Mademoiselle Dalila and Messaoud Habib.
Remarkably, he remained in Tunisia until shortly before his death in 1967.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">There is infinitely more to write but
this will have to serve our purposes for now. Think of it as whetting of the
appetite. In return, I promise to blog on the topic later in the summer.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<b><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Short Biographical Sketches on the
Musicians featured on the Marhaba Tunis Mix</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><b>Isaac “Kakino” De Paz (b. 1919, d.
1983):</b> Blinded at a young age, Kakino de Paz was a multi-talented musician, a true virtuouso. De Paz was a master of the qanun, the violin, the oud, the piano, the accordion, and oh yes,
the electric organ. He performed with La Rachidia, Tunisia’s premier Andalusian
ensemble, and served for a time as head of the Radio Tunis orchestra. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><b>El Kahlaoui Tounsi (b. 1932, d. 2000):</b> Born
Elie Touitou, El Kahlaoui was a stunning showman. There is a quality to his
voice, which can only be described as mesmerizing and his darbouka work is
without parallel. In addition to his staggering personal output and work with
myriad North African greats, El Kahlaoui took over the Paris-based record label
Dounia (the name repeated a number of times at the beginning of the mix) in the
1960s and turned it into one of the premier Maghrebi outfits. It is thanks to
him and his efforts that much of North African music of the 1960s and 1970s is
preserved.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><b>Maurice Meimoun (b. 1929, d. 1993):</b> Son
of famous Jewish musician Mouni Jebali (who also happened to be Hédi Jouini's master teacher), Meimoun was an accomplished violinist and composer – writing for
many of Tunisia’s biggest and brightest. The Tunisian Ministry of Culture honored him for his
work shortly before his death.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><b>Cheikh El Afrite (b. 1897, d. 1939):</b>
Born Israël Rosio Issirene, his adoption of the name Cheikh El Afrite (roughly
translating as Master of the Devil) paid homage to his wit and was perhaps also a play on the
word ‘<i>ivrit</i>, which happens to mean <i>Hebrew</i> in Hebrew. He was nothing if not
prolific and there was little he didn’t sing about including a lament about a
husband, who was sick and tired…of his wife. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><b>Youcef Hedjaj (b. 1919):</b> The sometimes
Jose de Suza has written over 600 songs in a mélange of languages. He helped to pioneer
the <i>francarabe</i> genre and held court at the famed El Djazaïr cabaret in Paris.
He wrote the lyrics to some of the true classics including Line Monty’s <i>Ya Oumi</i> and <i>L’Oriental</i>.</span><br />
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><b>Albert Perez (unknown):</b> I admit I know
little of Perez other than that he cut a number of 45s with El Kahlaoui on
Dounia. <i>Ya beladi</i> is an emotional ode to his Tunisia. If anyone has more information, please do send my way.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><b>Raoul Journo (b. 1911, d. 2001):</b> Simply
put, Raoul Journo was among the greatest, if not the greatest, in Tunisian
recording history. His repertoire remains an integral part of the his country’s
musical fabric to this day. <i>Sellemt fik ya biladi</i> is an incredible homage to
Tunisia.</span></div>
</div>
Chris Silverhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828369815346986542noreply@blogger.com2