{"id":41238,"date":"2019-11-12T12:48:31","date_gmt":"2019-11-12T11:48:31","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pan-african-music.com\/aziza-brahim-those-who-seek-war-have-never-known-it\/"},"modified":"2020-05-15T22:03:59","modified_gmt":"2020-05-15T21:03:59","slug":"aziza-brahim-interview","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/pan-african-music.com\/en\/aziza-brahim-interview\/","title":{"rendered":"Aziza Brahim: “Those who seek war have never known it”"},"content":{"rendered":"

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With Sahari<\/i>, a more electronic-music-oriented fifth album, the emblematic musician and activist of the Sahrawi culture sings the pain and hopes of the exiled.<\/b><\/span><\/h4>\n

In Hassaniya or Spanish, Aziza Brahim\u2019s vivacious poetry carries the voices of refugees from the Western Sahara (an invisible, yet resistant and militant part of Africa) and more generally speaking, that of all exiles. A radiant presence and a voice that transcends all of the senses, Aziza Brahim was at the Fiesta des Suds <\/i>festival in Marseille, France, when we met up with her. She explains her approach and the meaning behind the songs to PAM, from her latest album.<\/span><\/p>\n


Songs like \u201cSahari\u201d and \u201cMujayam\u201d (\u201cCamps\u201d) refer explicitly to your own experiences. Others like \u201cLmanfa\u201d (\u201cExile\u201d) or \u201cHada Jil\u201d (\u201cThis generation\u201d) have more of a general understanding. With this album, did you intend to move towards expressing a more universal message?<\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

My songs talk about my own experience of exile as a migrant: from the desert to the heart of the old continent [author\u2019s note: Aziza Brahim was born in 1976 in a refugee camp in Southern Algeria, then spent much of her adolescence in Cuba and has lived in Barcelona for almost twenty years now].<\/span><\/p>\n

My aim is to denounce the extreme living conditions that prevail in refugee camps and the great injustice that prevents Sahrawi refugees from returning home. I tried to capture the feeling of nostalgia my elders express for the land that was taken away from them.<\/span><\/p>\n

The normalization of injustice is something that Sahrawis know too well, but we are not the only ones concerned, unfortunately: there are currently 70 million people forcefully displaced in the world, and 26 million of them are refugees. Inevitably, this situation has affected me and my writing has evolved accordingly<\/span>.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

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<\/b>With Sahari<\/i> you explore electronic sounds under the guidance of the Catalan female artist Amparo S\u00e1nchez, leader of the Amparanoia group. What was it like working together?<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

We\u2019ve been friends for a long time and she\u2019s an artist I deeply admire. It has been quite some time since we\u2019ve wanted to collaborate and it was even more important for us as Amparo is a singer who advocates mixed-race relations in Spanish society.<\/span><\/p>\n

She suggested introducing electronics and that meant working in a very different way. My musicians and I are used to recording everything live. This time, each of us recorded separately, and then we assembled the pieces of the puzzle.<\/span><\/p>\n

For me, the key elements were guitars and vocals. Amparo dealt with the electronics, keyboards and saxophone. She helped me establish the dialogue I had in mind between the traditional Sahrawi percussion, the <\/span>\u201ctabal\u201d<\/span><\/i> drum, and the electronic percussion. And she allowed me to find balance between the past and present, between African and European music. The search for communion through music involves traveling across different territories: geographical and cultural, individual and collective, conscious and unconscious. And to find harmony at the crossroads<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>\n


\u201cCuatros Proverbios\u201d (\u201cFour proverbs\u201d), the opening track, is very much stripped back: your voice supported only by percussion. What is the meaning behind this song?<\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

It\u2019s a song about the power of peace and the total rejection of war. Here is what I say:<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThere are only two words: one is \u2018war\u2019, the other is \u2018peace\u2019.
\n<\/span><\/i>Those who seek war have never known it.
\n<\/span><\/i>The purpose of the dialogue is to conclude it.
\n<\/span><\/i>Never play with peace.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

I chose this song as the opening track because it allows an opportunity to hear the roots of my music and to understand the blend that follows. I recorded two tabal drums to play the sounds of the desert. There is also an entire set of sabar and one djembe. It\u2019s a combination of West African and my own culture since the tabal is the instrument of Sahrawi music. It is important for me to push the tabal to the fore, especially since it has been reserved solely for women to play for centuries<\/span>.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

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<\/b>You generally compose your own lyrics. However, for Sahari<\/i> you co-wrote a song with Amparo S\u00e1nchez (\u201cLas Huellas\u201d), and the song \u201cArd El Hub\u201d was written by Zaim Alal. Who is he? And what does this song talk about?<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

Zaim Alal is a great Sahrawi poet, and I identify a lot with his work. Two years ago, the last time I went to visit refugee camps, we met and he wrote this poem for me to sing. <\/span>\u201cArd el hub\u201d<\/span><\/i> means \u201cland of love\u201d and talks about the impossibility of us returning to our homeland. It\u2019s a very important song to me, and it gives me a strong sense of belonging.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMy homeland, land of love,
\n<\/span><\/i>cradle of my childhood.
\n<\/span><\/i>For you desires rise
\n<\/span><\/i>and kiss the sky.<\/span><\/i>\u00bb\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n