“Never thought one could play a solo concert with a balafon!” More than one member of the audience commented along these lines. Right they were, too, as balafon is not typically played alone. The format was chosen for several reasons: firstly, to emphasise the unconventional and secondly, to highlight the contrasting image conveyed on stage (see the previous chapter about dominance and cultural appropriation). Thirdly, for maximum impact, my aim was to create all of the sounds live with the balafon, with only minimal use of the kora as an additional instrument. Certain audio effects completely masked the original signal, and the use of other instruments would have obscured the sources of the varying sounds, thus reducing the overall ambiguity and drama.
Some of the elements represented a nod to the Mande tradition, while some introduced experimental solutions. In the spirit of oral storytelling, stories were interwoven into most pieces. Another typical feature of Mande music is to have a continuous accompaniment running throughout, while variation and cadenzas are brought in with vocal and instrumental solos. The alternating solos are considered dialogues, which is illustrated in the fact that the Mandinka language has not developed a word for playing, but rather uses the verb "fo" instead, which means "to speak". In balafon terminology, such accompanying patterns are called kumbengos. The kumbengo structure works well with live background looping. Creative experimentation also took place in the aforementioned altering of the instruments’ sonic outcome, atypical time signatures, and open-spirited artistic solutions throughout.
Visual aspects sought to deepen the holistic sensory experience and reinforce the underlying thematics. I designed the graphic art on the backdrop of the stage to leave room for the imagination, with its sketchy, simplistic, less-is-more approach. Certain symbols, such as the cowrie shells, provided subtle hints of the instruments' homelands, but overall, I did my best to avoid overly clichéd imagery. Some of the images had subtle animations embedded.
When choosing stage wear, I strive for both an artistic and respectful reference to the country and culture that have become part of who I am. This performance outfit was designed by a creative tailor in Ziguinchor, Casamance, who adapted the local clothing style to better reflect a non-native female balafon player.
IN the last piece, "Polokka", a pre-rehearsed intervention took place. Its aim was to startle the audience and inspire them to give feedback. A Senegalese actor-dancer and a long-time friend, Mbacke Niang, began by showing signs of discomfort in his seat, eventually taking to the stage to confront the artist with dissatisfaction over the way their cultural symbols were being treated. The provocation broke down into dance moves to help the audience finally understand that everything was indeed pre-planned and consensual. The idea seemed to work, with reactions ranging from startled gasps to sighs of relief and laughter, presumably increasing the amount of feedback to some extent.
Approcreations – the concert took place in Helsinki Music Centre on the 10th of April 2024.
Crystallising the overall theme of the concert, the opening piece leads us on a journey from ancient recipes to the modern era. First, the apprentice method of learning balafon accompaniments is demonstrated along with spoken narration. Then, time dashes forward, and experimental styles replace the echoes of the past. One of the first compositions for this setup presents a variable array of sound-altering tryouts.
The concert ended with a musical depiction of the internal ethical debates described in the chapter "Never alone". Linking loosely to a dance beat once popular in Finland, Polokka apologises to the audience for the imperfections of its composer. Such vocalised humbleness is considered a respectful gesture in West African song lyrics.


