He could easily be a candidate for the ‘separated at birth’, column as Albert
Einstein’s look alike in Spy magazine, the satirical periodical published from
New York in the late eighties and nineties. With deep set eyes that speak, he
gazes at his past in the sugarcane fields of his French colony, singing songs
of protest and lament, writing poetry and converting verses into song. At times
those eyes look back at his life of a political activist and a member of the
communist party, which strangely, in his little island, stifled free speech,
which he broke out of. His wiry disheveled grey hair, like his look alike
Albert Einstein, billowing in the wind, each tuft of hair almost containing a
branch of socio political history of his island where colonization, oppression
and subjugation, was the leitmotif of existence.
But beyond his looks, there is little of Danyel Waro that can be
related to his famous look alike- no theory of relativity here. He is a descendant
of French colonists, with deep set linkages, not with his colonial forefathers,
but with those who came from different and colonies to Ile de la Réunion, a
French territory in the Indian Ocean east of Madagascar.
He
speaks through his poetry and his music, all about rhythms and emotions
fighting for freedom and liberty. And interestingly in this narrative enters
colour because the language of protest also is connected to colour. For
instance, when Waro became an exponent of ‘Maloya’, a rhythm in the area which
had its origins in the chants of the slaves working in the sugarcane
plantations, he was met with surprise and shock because he was white. And here,
he had to actually and ironically, overcome a colour barrier and build trust in
the coloured people that a white man can have the same heart and feelings and
compassion for their cause and truly be with them.
So what
is it that makes Maloya so strong? Simply because, it is sung by folks who
stand up. Some might say it’s like the “blues’ and call It “blues à la
Réunion.” Seeing the force, Maloya was even banned by the French authorities
because of its strong messaging.
According
to music critic Frank Eisenhuth, who has written one of the many biographical
sketches of Waro, “Waro must be credited with having expanded the Maloya style
to transport a message and through his performances, music, and lyrics, live up
to a new unity. He sings predominantly in Creole and not in French, which
already is a message in itself, and his powerful high voice is fascinating and
haunting at the same time. He uses self-made instruments and opposes any Maloya
“modernization” in the sense of weakening its strong cultural roots.
Consequently, Danyel Waro is considered the “black soul of the Maloya.”
Waro is
quick to point out and even lightly admonished this writer when he asked if he
“refused” to sing in French. ‘That is not correct. Journalists sometimes put it
like that. But when I say I’m for (singing in) Creole, I’m not against any
other language. When you are for something, you are not against something
(else).
But he agrees that he
did refuse to do something else- do his military service in France. I’m for
peace. I do not want war. I was taken to France where I refused to do military
service and had to spend two years in jail. Yes, that’s right. “And I did not
want to walk under anyone else’s orders in the army,” he says calmly. But the
message went home.
Speaking of Goa, the
conversation revealed that he does have traces of Indo- Portuguese blood from
his mother’s side “15 generations ago people of Indo- Portuguese India (Goa
Daman and Diu) moved to Mozambique, Madagascar and also to Ile de la Réunion,
(less than a hour by flight from Mauritius, a little dot of an island on the
Indian Ocean). It is the intermingling and romantic and matrimonial renunions
that led to the birth of the next generations of children with mixed blood. One
of his great-great grandmothers stretching back to 15 generations, moved there
from Daman.
But his fame isn’t
limited to the island. He is the voice of liberty in francophone Africa. In
1996 he released the album Sega La Pente, from an island in the Ocean comes
Waro with his fellow Réunion singer Françoise Guimbert. In 1999, a collection
Foutan Fonnkér (1999), won him the Grand Prix de l’Académie du Disque Charles
Cros, a Grand Slam winning prize in the French music scene.
But he is nothing if not
a performer. He belongs to the people, out in the open and not in recording
studios. His song is his poetry. Speaking about the people of Renuion island he
said “My poetry caught them. They felt emotion.”
As he takes stage in Goa on Thursday evening at the Sur Jahan festival, that’s what he will hope and surely get - emotion.