Gather in Peace, with Sidy Maïga

 
Sidy Maïga drumming live among a crowd of dancing fans
 

From The Rail Band’s heyday in the 1970s to Ali Farka Touré’s posthumous release Savane in the 2000s, the music of Mali has brought joy and delight to listeners worldwide. If you haven’t already, take 45 minutes out of your day to enjoy Africa Express’ cover of Terry Riley's In C. As such, we’re big fans of local master djembe player, composer and producer Sidy Maïga, who celebrates the cultures of West Africa in schools and on stages across the Ocean State. Maïga’s projects, like the upcoming Afrika Nyaga at PVD Fest 2024, spread messages of hope, unity, and community.

 

The Well (TW): Hey Sidy. You’re a busy guy. How would you describe your involvement with the local cultural community, broadly speaking?

Sidy Maïga (SM): For the past 18 years, I have been involved in the Rhode Island community through teaching drumming, African culture, and music to dozens of schools and institutions. Currently, I conduct several healing arts classes at Bradly and Hasbro Hospitals, and produce the annual drum and dance festival Afrika Nyaga—this will be its 12th year running. We [the musicians involved] all live in Rhode Island; the cornerstone of my work has always been to bring people together because diversity brings more positivity to the world and contributes to the wellbeing of both the state and country. I’m raising my family in Rhode Island so, of course I also want a better future for my children. I strive to do things that improve Rhode Island.

TW: We love your involvement with youth—do you have a memory of a stand out gig or musical moment from your younger years?

SM: Yes, the first time our own group got our first “grown up” gig, and we were invited to travel for the first time outside of the city. We traveled to Kati, a city about 30 minutes Northwest of Bamako. We created our own songs in addition to playing traditional songs and the audience was so enchanted that I wanted to see myself on bigger stages.

 
A group of musicians playing traditional works from Mali
 

TW: And you’re from Bamako, right? What was growing up there like?

SM: It was a community-oriented environment where doors were always open, and everyone in the neighborhood was like family. We lived as a close-knit community, where it was common to eat, sleep, or hang out in any house at any time. Music began, for me, with the rhythms of life in my neighborhood. The sound of women grinding millet in a mortar and pestle. The rhythm of the call to prayer five times a day. The music of celebrations, social events, and even funerals. Music and rhythm permeated every facet of day-to-day life. It created a musical structure upon which life happened. 

Music was also a communal experience. Even if you had your own musical group, other musicians could join in whenever they wanted, and it was always a pleasure to welcome them. This environment made it easy to immerse deeply in music, learning from everyone I encountered, in addition to my formal teachers.

This is how I became interested in music, especially because going to school was not easy for me. In my early teens, my friends and I got together and created our own drumming group and started performing for people our age and eventually, I got to apprentice with two master drummers. After my training, I ended up playing with the Drum and Dance Troupe of Bamako, which is the capital of Mali. I was working every day at the Troupe, and performing at weddings every Thursday and Sunday.

TW: Have you found that kind of integration here, too—music being a facet of everyday life?

SM: I have found similar patterns here, but it took time and effort. Over the years, I’ve created my own community within the larger community—one that supports and cherishes what I do. This community has become a space where music and culture are deeply intertwined, much like what I experienced growing up. It’s been incredibly rewarding to see how this shared passion for music has brought people together and created a sense of rhythm and connection in our lives here as well.

TW: What was it initially like when you came to the US? How did you find your way here?

SM: I moved from Mali to New York in February 2006. The transition was a cultural shock. When I arrived, I found it challenging to adapt to the more individualistic culture, where doors were always locked, eye contact was avoided, and greetings were often met with confusion. However, I am someone who adapts to any scenario. I began seeking out drum circles in New York, attending open mics, and introducing myself to other artists after their shows. It was easier to connect with people in New York than when I moved to Rhode Island in September 2006 because my ex-wife was accepted into the Trinity Rep Master’s program for acting. Rhode Island was smaller and culturally different from New York.

Fortunately, a friend introduced me to the Providence Black Repertory Company, where I became the resident drummer. I also started working with Michelle Bach and Seydou Coulibaly at Brown University. Gradually, I got to know the city and built connections with more people. I began building my own drumming class, where I met many amazing people, including Rachel Nguyen, who became my manager and started helping me push my career forward. As I became more known in the community, I began visiting schools, hospitals, and other establishments. Finally, in 2009, I was able to start my own festival, Afrika Nyaga. The first festival was held at Le Foyer in Pawtucket, and later, I brought it to Providence.

 
A profile view of Sidy Maïga drumming live

Above: Sidy leading a performance

 

TW: You mentioned that school wasn’t an easy experience; did you pursue any kind of formal education at later points?

SM: I dropped out of school because with classrooms that were 150 students in one class, I was getting more out of my musical practices than going to school. This caused a big problem between my family and I. Even though I knew school was important, I was drawn to music. But getting an education was what my family really wanted for me and so after 15 years living in the US, I wildly decided to apply for the Berklee College of Music and I didn’t know what my chances were—I didn’t have an official musical theory background. To my surprise, I got in with scholarships and grants which ended up allowing me to go to Berklee on a full ride!

TW: Full ride! That is awesome. So let’s talk about Afrika Nyaga. How’d it start? 

SM: For the first time, I’m going to share the true reason behind the start of Afrika Nyaga publicly. In 2008, I began wondering why I wasn’t seeing Malian performers coming together here in Rhode Island to create the kind of music and community we have back home. So, I decided to invite other drummers for a small, informal ceremony at Le Foyer in Pawtucket. We did it for free, and about 50 to 70 people showed up to dance and sing together. It was an intimate gathering, and we had an incredible time. People kept asking me to do it again because it felt so authentic and connected.

After that event, someone approached me with a lot of ideas about how we could turn it into a big production and make money. But for me, the goal was never about making money; it was about bringing the community together. I was already earning a living through gigs, and I felt that what I needed more was the sense of community, not profit. Eventually, that person decided to host their own event at her house, even scheduling it on the same night as my next show, charging people $15 to attend. Despite that, the event turned out to be one of the best I’ve ever organized. That success inspired me to take Afrika Nyaga further.

I started applying for grants from RISCA, seeking sponsors, and eventually began collaborating with organizations like the Department of Art, Culture, and Tourism, under the leadership of Lynne McCormack and later, Lizzie Araujo. I’ve also formed partnerships with FirstWorks, The Providence Foundation, and the City of Providence. This will be the fourth year that Afrika Nyaga is part of PVDFest.

TW: Could you talk a bit about the differences in style between music from Mali and say, Senegalese, Congolese styles? 

SM: In Senegal, Mbalax is a dominant musical style—perhaps 80% or more of the musical identity. Mbalax is rooted in a percussion instrument called the Sabar drum, which is deeply traditional and the most popular in Senegal. The entire essence of Mbalax comes from the rhythms of the Sabar drum, with some influence from the talking drum (tama). While modern Mbalax incorporates other instruments like keyboards, guitars, and more, there is no Mbalax without the Sabar drums at its core.

When you think of Congolese music, soukous is the genre that stands out most prominently. It features a heavy drum set rhythm, guitar, keyboards, and other modern instruments, and is a dance music style with roots in Congolese rhumba.

In contrast, Malian music is incredibly diverse, with each region having its own traditional instruments. For example, the blues from northern Mali typically does not use the djembe or talking drum. The Wassoulou region features instruments like the ngoni and balafon, which are unique to that area. In the Kayes region, you’ll find the djeli dundun and djeli balafon, which are distinct from the balafon used in Wassoulou. This regional diversity makes Malian music very different from other countries.

This is why Malian music stands out—each region contributes its own unique sounds and styles, unlike the more unified styles found in places like Senegal and the Congo.

 
Sidy Maïga drumming with his five year old son

Above: Ira, Sidy's son, gets in on the beat

 

TW: Who are some artists you look to for inspiration, collaboration, etc?

SM: One of my favorite artists in Mali is Salif Keita. His voice is extraordinary, but what truly sets him apart is his versatility. He doesn't confine himself to a single style; instead, he explores every corner of music, from deep traditional Malian sounds to reggae, salsa, and beyond. Growing up listening to him was truly inspirational. I believe we all gravitate toward different genres of music based on our mood, feelings at the time, and the circumstances we find ourselves in. Salif Keita’s ability to connect with such a wide range of emotions and experiences through his music has had a profound impact on me and many others. 

Oumou Sangaré is another musical genius who could work and sing in any environment or condition, even though she has crafted her own unique identity with her magical voice. Her ability to convey powerful emotions and messages through her music has made her a significant influence in my life.

TW: Going back a bit, we’re curious to learn how you first begin drumming in hospitals, and what has that experience meant for you, personally?

SM: Playing and teaching at hospitals like Bradley and Hasbro didn’t come as a surprise to me, because in Mali, music is used for many different purposes—fun, weddings, naming ceremonies, and even healing. The djembe in particular, is often used as a therapeutic tool back home. I’m sure hospitals have done their research and recognized the importance of music for healing purposes. From my own experience, I’ve seen many positive outcomes when teaching and performing around the world. I can also speak from personal experience: even when I’m going through hardships, playing the drum transforms me completely. Many people have shared similar experiences with me from all over the world.

TW: You toured with groups like Troupe Artistique de Bamako and the Fakoli Percussion Troupe—what’s your favorite memory from that era?

SM: One of the most memorable moments for me with the Fakoli Percussion Troupe was when we performed at the Festival International of Percussion (FESTIP) in Mali. This festival brought together the best percussionists from all over the country—every top player in Mali participated. We won second place, and that achievement will stay with me forever. It was an incredible experience to be surrounded by so much talent, and the energy of the festival was just amazing. 

TW: We’ve been seeing your son up on stage with you. What do you learn about music and performance through playing together? 

SM: I see a lot of myself in my son, even though I didn’t get to play with my father because he wasn’t a musician—in fact, he didn’t want me to become one. But, like my son, I was passionate about music from a very young age. I used to get in trouble for banging on tomato cans, boxes, or even my chest, making noise wherever I could. Watching my son’s enthusiasm for music, I realize how much I wish I had the same opportunities he has now. Through playing together, I’m learning that if I had been allowed to follow my passion freely from the start, I might have progressed even further. But I’m still grateful for the journey that has brought me to where I am today.

TW: What’s something coming up in the next 2-3 months you’d like to have on peoples’ radars?

SM: My 12th annual festival, Afrika Nyaga, is returning to PVDFest on September 7th at 4:30 PM in front of the Providence City Hall. I’m also working on my next album which I’m very excited about so stay tuned!

 
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