Last night Marshall our new friend Jeff and I all went to see Boubakar Troure at the French Cultural Center. I foolishly thought that since he was asleep when we left that he would stay that way. Right...stimulation everywhere, not happening.
The French Cultural Center is an interesting place, sort of like a small American theater. And the crowd was fantasically mixed. Diehard Malian Kar Kar(what he goes by) fans and interested whities of all nationalities(Russian, French, American, Dutch from the least that I could tell). So it offered the best of both worlds in some ways as seeing music in a theater like this takes something away from the bad a/v outdoor candlelit bar that most music is played in here. There were the hoots and hollers that Westerners are often too guarded to make and the music was simply oh so good. I was hesitant to go, but really really glad I did. A couple of drawbacks. Marshall and I were standing in the back most of the time and just like in the states at small music venues there were those obnoxious couples making out, dancing and not paying attention to the 20 people that are having to shuffle themselves each time they sway one way or another. Also, there was this French harmonica player. He was talented, don't get me wrong, but he just seemed so...I don't know, soul-less and out of place. Jeff had seen a show there the night before and there was a French guitarist playing with a Dogon singer and had similar feelings. They just seemed like posers...The shirt unbuttoned down to his navel was amusing, though.
For his first concert past his bedtime, Marshall did pretty well, although the clapping was a bit disturbing to him at first...well, and each time he tried to go to sleep. I think we'll definitely get a babysitter next time. Next weekend they are putting on a Cirque de Solei style circus with West African dancing, music and puppets. I think we are going to try to go.
