• DOI:10.1525/ctx.2008.7.1.44
• Corpus ID: 59623412

Life, Death, and Music in West Africa

@article{Harper2008LifeDA,
  title={Life, Death, and Music in West Africa},
  author={Colter Harper},
  journal={Contexts},
  year={2008},
  volume={7},
  pages={44 - 51}
}

• C. Harper
• Published 1 February 2008
• History
• Contexts

In the summer of 2005 I traveled to Africa to study funeral music in Ghana’s northwestern region. For much of the trip I lived in the capital of Accra, a sprawling home to immigrants from all regions of West Africa. My room, in a complex inhabited by three Ghanaian families, was worlds away from the villages of the north. In Accra I continued learning the gyil, which I had been introduced to four years earlier while studying at the University of Ghana. The gyil is a 14-key frame xylophone played by the Lobi people from Ghana’s northwestern region. Before traveling to the north, S.K. Kakraba, my teacher, a Lobi man my age who migrated to Accra from the north, taught me several gyil songs and methods for improvising on the instrument. His mastery of the instrument and creative approach to the repertoire matched his abilities as a teacher. Rarely does one find a teacher of traditional African music who can dissect the complex songs for a student not steeped in the tradition. The sound of the gyil was unlike anything I would hear in my travels through West Africa. Played by S.K. or his father, the great master Kakraba Lobi, gyil music combines overlapping melodies and bass patterns enveloped by a dense layer of buzzing. The keys are cut from the liga, a red hardwood tree, and strung above gourds that are modified with thin paper or spider silk to create a sympathetic drone. Playing the instrument with the two heavy mallets takes great endurance. At a funeral, a musician may be expected to play for several hours before another takes over. Traditional accompaniment includes a small barrel drum (gangar) and a shovel blade, which the player strikes like a bell. Through lessons with S.K. I began to better understand the musical tradition, but until I experienced performances at village funerals I didn’t know how integral the music was for the life of the Lobi community. The funeral is one of the most important social events in West Africa. A Lobi funeral lasts three days and involves hundreds of community members. In addition to mourning and paying respects to the deceased, people socialize, dance, buy and sell goods, drink, and eat. Physically and conceptually at the center of the funeral are the musicians, who play constantly from the time of the death announcement to the last guest’s departure. The music serves many purposes: announcing a death to nearby homes, guiding visitors during the night, providing an environment for the young to dance and socialize, praising the deceased, and creating a competitive venue for both younger musicians and masters. The energy and creativity of the music lies on the shoulders of the gyil player. The audience evaluates the musician’s abilities—his deftness with complex left-hand patterns and simultaneous right-hand improvisations. The performer plays under the heat of the sun or in the darkness of night, often on an unfamiliar instrument. The force with which the performer plays the gyil sends the music echoing into the surrounding woods. Music defines the boundaries of the funeral. The sounds of the gyil, gangar, bell, and wailing mourners steadily radiate outward from the courtyard, creating various social spaces for visitors. The funeral takes place in the courtyard of the family compound, where the body is laid out on a bench, dressed, and wrapped in cloth. Surrounded by a circle of older women, the body is the center of the mourning and the point at which the wailing is most intense. Near the ring of mourning women sit the musicians. As the intensity of the performance builds, men gather in a circle around the musicians. Young men and women are inspired to dance in a circle around those observing the performers. Beyond the courtyard visitors talk and joke with family members and friends, eat salted bean curd cooked over small fires, and drink apateshi and pito, sold by village brewers. Here, the sounds of the funeral take on an ethereal quality that allow for socialization while acting as a steady reminder of the progression of events within the courtyard. As the days pass, many people arrive and depart, contributing their small part to the life of the event.