El Gusto, Algerian Jewish Mothers, and Luc Cherki

Just a few weeks ago I moved from New York to Los Angeles. This relocation was part of a long journey home for me. It began in the south of France, took me to Morocco, afforded me a short stop in Israel, and cut through New York before dropping me in California. Over the next few posts I will attempt to capture the most salient memories and observations from my travels. Along the way I’ll be digitizing some of the most interesting pieces of music I collected.

Moroccan and Algerian Jewish records in Marseille.

A Note on Putting this Post Together
As I was putting the finishing touches on this post I found myself racing against time. I started writing this last Thursday shortly before I was to head to the airport for a quick trip back to New York. I had wanted to digitize a piece of music to go along with it but since everything was literally in boxes I had almost no idea where anything was. By chance I opened a closet door where I was storing clothing and some 45s. Staring back at me was a near mint Luc Cherki record I had nearly forgotten about. Suddenly, everything came into focus. I recalled a short conversation I had with the Algerian vocalist and guitarist over the summer. I had told him I was a fan and a collector. He told me (with his characteristic smile) that he longer had any of his own records (not at all uncommon). All of this crystallized for me as time was running out before my flight. I was inspired. I started (gently) tearing open boxes and soon found my record player and the necessary cables for digitization. The platter on the record player had barely stopped spinning before I ran out the door for LAX.

South of France: From Marseille to Sète
As some of you read in my last post, I spent two weeks over the summer seeking out remnants of the once vibrant North African music scene in Marseille. While there I not only had the good fortune of finding physical records and cassettes but also passionate individuals chronicling the local incarnation of this transnational musical saga. Along the way I rediscovered tantalizing hints of how this story plays out spatially through various artifacts like a stamped label with the former address of the Algerian Cheikh Zekri’s music club.

Cheikh Zekri's old stomping grounds in Marseille. Stamped on back of LP.

While in France, I had the tremendous opportunity to see live music as well. Thanks to the kindness of Safinez and Nabila I met with members of the recently reconstituted 1950s-era Algerian chaabi orchestra El Gusto. I was privileged to have ftour (Ramadan break-fast meal) with these master musicians and glean hidden nuggets of music history from the likes of Algerian pianist Maurice El Medioni through informal interviews backstage. The concert itself, in an amphitheater on the water in beautiful Sète (also interestingly a ferry point for North Africa), was electric. A couple observations from the concert before I jump to our artist of interest.

• Throughout the concert, Abdelmajid Meksoud referred to Maurice El Medioni as Cheikh.
• The set list included a majority of songs popularized or written by Algerian Jews including Mchate Aaliya (Lili Boniche), Alger Alger (Line Monty-Maurice El Medioni), and one of my favorites - Ghir Ajini Ajini (Lili Labassi).

I’m including a short clip I shot with my phone (so please forgive the quality) of El Gusto performing Ghir Ajini Ajini. I’m pairing it with Toukadime’s recent upload of Lili Labassi’s Ghir Ajini Ajini original for RCA (Yes, the Recording Corporation of America was recording North African Jewish musicians as well).

El Gusto performs Lili Labassi's Ghir Ajini Ajini in August 2012.

Lili Labassi's original Ghir Ajini Ajini for RCA.

Monsieur Luc Cherki
In the lead up to the concert I chatted with Luc (sometimes Lili) Cherki, a musician who had long been a curiosity of mine but whom I had never written about. Luc was born on August 8, 1936 and spent his formative years in Algiers, Algeria. He came of musical age in the 1950s at a time when chaabi music across the Maghreb was on the ascent. What made him special (in part) was that he could not only jam on the guitar in a number of styles but could also sing distinctively in Arabic, French, and Hebrew. As the end of the decade approached, his identity as an Algerian Jew of French citizenship became increasingly complex. Like most of his fellow coreligionists Luc Cherki left Algeria for France by 1962 and has never returned. He increasingly sang in French and became associated musically and politically with his French hit Je Suis Pied Noir.

Luc Cherki's Je Suis Pied Noir.

Luc Cherki recorded for a variety of labels in France including Kahlaoui's Dounia. His Arabic music was often forgotten as the years wore on and by the end of the 1980s he seemed to distance himself from music all together. He took a nearly 15 year musical break before returning to the performing stage in the 2000s and now tours with El Gusto.

Luc Cherki. L'Mouèma. Dounia. 1970s.

L’Mouèma

Yes, I'm posting a song about a Jewish mother, an Algerian Jewish mother to be exact. L’mouèma is the affectionate word for mom in darija, North African Arabic. The album artwork from this 1970s Luc Cherki release features a dedication to children deprived of their mothers' love. When I asked my friend Jawad (check out his Juifs Berberes photo blog) for some help with the lyrics, he concurred that the song was written about a mother but he offered another explanation. L’mouèma can also stand in for the motherland, he said. In other words, it's possible that Luc Cherki is singing here about his longing for Algeria. The song begins with, "separation is worse than death." Take a listen. I hear hints of Cheikh Zouzou's Bensoussan here in the music. The theme of exile, estrangement is ominpresent. What I also find fascinating about this song (and really El Gusto as a concept) is how much it complicates the narrative. Cheers.

Show this Saturday at JCC + Cheikh Mwijo, Lili L'abassi & Shimon Bar Yohai

Come listen to Cheikh Mwijo and others this Sat., May 26th at JCC Manhattan

I'll be spinning rare North African records this Saturday night, May 26th for a set called Sheikh it, Baby! Arabic Music, Jewish Musicians. The set is part of the wonderful Tikkun Leil Shavuot program at the JCC Manhattan. I go on at 12.30 am (technically May 27th) in the 4th floor studio. I'm adding some recent killer finds to the playlist, so bring a friend and come check it out. The full schedule of events can be found here.

Judeo-Arabic song verse in praise of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yohai
Composed by Albert Suissa and printed in Casablanca (1950s)

Tikkun Leil Shavuot in its current form is a modern twist on an ancient tradition. Shavuot marks the anniversary of the Israelites receiving the Torah from God. One tradition relates that the Israelites prayed and studied for three days and nights in anticipation of receiving the Torah and so, we emulate this all-night regiment to remember and recreate this sacred study session.

Shavuot (meaning weeks in Hebrew) comes seven weeks after Passover. If you've been following the news or my Twitter feed (www.twitter.com/jewishmorocco) lately, you may have noticed an uptick in Jewish pilgrimages (hilloulot in Hebrew) over the last couple weeks in Morocco and Tunisia. These pilgrimages to Rabbi's tombs usually fall on or right around Lag B'Omer, a holiday that occurs 33 days after Passover and which marks the anniversary of the death of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yohai, a 2nd century Rabbi and disciple of the famed Rabbi Akiva. According to lore, Lag B'Omer is also the date that Rabbi Shimon Bar Yohai revealed the Zohar, the foundational text of Kabbalah.

Now the tie-in for all of this is something I've written about before and that is the fascinating convergence of the sacred and secular in North African Jewish music. For example, the melody for Samy Elmaghribi's scandalously secular Kaftanek Mahloul (Blond Blond performs it here) was quickly incorporated into liturgical poetry for the synagogue in 1950s Morocco and beyond (Binyamin Bouzaglo performs El Hay Ram Gadol to the tune of Kaftanek Mahloul here).

I recently discovered another track that made the transition from secular to sacred. Lili L’abassi was born Elie Moyal in Sidi Bel Abbas, Algeria in or around 1909. By his early 20s, he was already being referred to as Cheikh for his mastery of the violin and Arabic song. His popularity rose steadily in the 1930s and 1940s and he can be thought of as the Jewish Hadj Mohammed El Anka in terms of popularizing chaabi music. One of his most popular songs is Wahran El Bahia (Oran the Brilliant/Shining/Beautiful) and is an ode to the city that has produced some of Algeria's greatest musicians, past and present. Wahran El Bahia has become the unofficial anthem of Oran and continues to be sung to this day.

Below is a clip of the song being performed by El Gusto, a Jewish and Muslim orchestra originally formed in Algeria in the 1950s and recently reunited. The musicians of El Gusto, now in their 70s through 90s, had lost touch post-Algerian independence and were brought together over the last few years thanks to the efforts of the filmmaker Safinez Bousbia, who captured this story in her compelling documentary. Make sure you see this film El Gusto, if you haven't already.

Pay close attention to the very animated violinist and singer in this El Gusto concert recording because it is none other than Robert Castel, son of the great Lili L'abassi. To the right, you can also make out Luc (or Lili) Cherki. Play the song in its entirety once or twice, so you get a real feel for the melody.

Check out this 1970s recording by Cheikh Mwijo in Israel. It's called Meron El Bahiya and is a pretty amazing piece about Rabbi Shimon Bar Yohai. Mt. Meron (in Israel) is the pilgrimage site for the Lag B'Omer holiday and the burial place of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yohai. Lag B'Omer and Rabbi Shimon Bar Yohai have long been popular song topics for Jewish North African recording artists. One of my most interesting 78s, for example, is a 1950s recording of a Lag B'Omer hilloula in Tlemcen, Algeria. Now take a close listen to the Cheikh Mwijo song below. This is the same melody and refrain as Lili L'abassi's Wahran El Bahiya but with Meron swapped for Oran! The sacred has again adopted the secular.


While you're pondering all of this, I'm going to give another shoutout to my twitter feed and mention that you can like this blog on Facebook (www.facebook.com/jewishmorocco). I'll be posting some exciting news soon...so keep an eye out.