Ashley Maher is a tall, slender woman with a river of red hair. She is a vocalist, songwriter, and dancer. The pandemic has not slowed her down. She is a person on the go. If you follow her Facebook updates, she invites you into her adventure.
Throughout Covid, Ashley has sought new collaborations and developed existing ones. Collaboration is the key, here. It is how Ashley thrives. She is good at combining her gifts as a musician, a great voice, and songwriting skills, with those of other musicians. She has created dynamic partnerships with the percussionist Ibou Calebasse and the bassist Etu Dieng, who both have great rhythmic ability. In the past year, she has worked with artists from as diverse countries as Morocco, Brazil, France, Italy, and India.
The song “Brand New” is the result of one such collaboration. It was released in November 2020, and features three female vocalists singing together although they live far apart. The music video captures the women in their respective countries and splices that footage together. Ashley lives in the United States of America, Lornoar Lorenoare in Cameroon, and Amira Abed in Senegal. These three vocalists take turns to sing, creating an upbeat merry-go-round. This pop song also has a ripple of synthesizer at its base. The lyrics describe new beginnings. And as the track proceeds, the voices come closer together in pitch, enfolding you with their subtle harmonies.
In another recent video, we find Ashley in a living room in Senegal. She smiles with enthusiasm as she sits, swaying from side to side. To her left is Ken Ngom on acoustic guitar and to her right are the calabash player Ibou Calebasse and the vocalist Aminata Barro. Ken and Aminata make up the local Senegalese group Leergui Acoustic. Ashley sings as the calabash unfolds in a soft, regular rhythm while the guitar weaves around it. These musicians are relaxed, yet confident, thriving in each others company. Later, Aminata joins in the singing. The music is natural, not forced. It is folk in feel. There is no auto-tune here, and that makes it a joy to listen to. Ashley’s voice is gentle and soothing. Her vocal is spontaneous, versatile, and energetic. She welcomes us into her play.
Ashley grew up in Canada, but is now based in Los Angeles. I spoke with her about her life and music.
When did you start to sing?
I had a grandmother in Wales who was a great singer. She sang in church. An American man visited England and wanted her to come to perform and learn more in the US. But apparently her father was not having “a daughter on the stage” and said, “No.” My story is different. My mother used to say, “This is your gift that was passed down to you.”
Singing came naturally for me as a child. It gave me such happiness. I sang a wide variety of music. I loved rhythm and harmony. Later, I went to Italy and trained with Luciano Pavarotti’s accompanist. I looked nothing like the other girls, who wore lipstick and high heels. I wore a sweatshirt and boots. It was good to train in opera. I learned to sing with greater precision, but classical music was not for me.
Were your parents musical?
While my parents were not musicians, they loved music. My dad’s family lived in Cornwall and my mum was from Bournemouth, England. Dad grew up in Brazil. He was fluent in Portuguese. He loved Brazilian culture and music. He also enjoyed jazz. My mum was more into classical music and pop.
Then you discovered African music. You first heard C. K Ladzekpo, the Ghanaian percussionist, at University…
Yes, I stood by the door, listening to this room of drummers at the University of California, Berkeley. Professor Ladzekpo’s drumming had such a powerful effect on my physical body, I chose to sit at the back of the class. I was not ready to sit up front. I felt such a deep receptivity to this music. It was as if I had hit on a specific vibration, that contrapuntal, polyrhythmic feeling. Ladzekpo was talking to me in an oddly familiar language.
What is it about African music that moves you?
African music is joyful. In Africa, dance, music, and community come together. For me, the music reflects something spiritual from the continent; a very specific frequency that I related to and stepped into. In Western music, the performers are the subject, the audience the object. But African music is not like that. It is about everyone’s connection. The audience’s response is often vital to, and a part of, the performance.
Your lyrics often tell a story. Where does the storytelling skill come from?
Since my father was Irish and came from a long line of storytellers, our family conversations were always all about The Story. Every evening, we sat around the table, telling stories about the day.
I want to write songs that are uplifting, yet not fluffy or cliché. Growing up, I gravitated to books by African-American novelists like Toni Morrison. While they told sad, super-rough life stories, their books always felt redemptive and inspiring, with proud, strong, and beautiful characters … that golden thread that leads a person through a tough life.
Was it a golden thread that lead you from L.A. to London as a younger woman?
Yes, the first challenge was how to get to London. I applied for a Rhodes Scholarship. But despite being among the thirteen finalists from Los Angeles, I lost. Nonetheless, I decided to go anyway and dive into music. At that time, there were fewer immigration controls and more public money to bring African artists to the UK. Every week, big bands were traveling from all over Africa to perform.
In London, I went regularly to the National Sound Archive, an incredible recording library. They had many ethnographic records. I would spend hours there, listening to children’s songs, the sound of traditional African ceremonies, bird songs even. I was fascinated by the different elements of the music. It was then that I became curious about the bridge between Western and African music.
Tell me more about that bridge.
When both sides are equally represented and it is authentic, the music transcends. I felt that happened on Salif Keita‘s album, “Soro” or on Baaba Maal‘s album, “Firin’ in Futa.” It makes you ask the question as a musician, How did they do this? What was it in this music that it made it so exceptional? Why did some collaborations work while others fell flat? Joining Western music with African music then became my life’s work, building that bridge.
As part of building that bridge, you have worked with the famed Senegalese vocalist Youssou N’Dour.
Yes, in 2003, I bumped into Youssou N’Dour’s guitarist, Jimi Mbaye when he was visiting Los Angeles. When I invited Jimi to solo on a few tracks of my fourth album, he agreed and arrived at the studio with manager, Mbacke Dioum. While reviewing tracks that Jimi might play on, Mbacke heard a song I wrote with Jason Hann and asked, “Can I send this to Youssou N’Dour? I just know he would love this track.” Youssou ended up recording the song in Wolof and he titled it “Boul Bayekou.” It was a big hit in Senegal and when I visited Dakar, I heard it playing all over.
Later, when Youssou’s band performed in L.A., I did a sabar dance solo onstage in front of 2,000 people. Youssou said, “I want to fly you to Dakar. You’ll rehearse for three weeks and then you will perform for my Grand Ball at Bercy, in Paris.” I could not believe what I heard. I was so happy. I cried all night on the plane flying over to Dakar.
Can you describe sabar dance to someone who has never seen it?
Sabar comes from the Wolof people, in West Africa. It is a dance created by tall, slender people. Sabar has a distinctive elegance. While some African dances are performed closer to the ground, sabar is danced upright. Sabar is both dance and music. The music contains a family of drums and the rhythms are very intricately mapped out. Sabar is often performed at a celebration, a wedding, or a baby naming. It is spontaneous and fiery. It has a flavor of sexuality and playfulness. Some older sabar dancers like Yama Wade are very impressive. They used to wear these big dresses that would spiral out and fly as they danced.
Do you need to be strong to dance sabar?
Yes, you do. Once I was at a celebration where they were dancing in deep sand … just the best dancers. It was exciting and I stood up with great enthusiasm to solo, but I could not even get my ankles out of the sand.
What was it like dancing in Senegal for the first time?
Dancing with Aziz Faye, who was also my sabar dance teacher for twenty years, was electric. Aziz is phenomenal. In 2008, fewer people from countries outside of Senegal danced sabar. It felt local. And it was rare to see white people dancing it. I remember one night, in the Dakar neighborhood of Pikine, the whole community was ecstatic because they had won their national soccer match. Thousands of people were out on the street celebrating with a huge tanebeer (street party). When I jumped out and danced a solo, there was pandemonium.
Sabar brings with it a specific energy. Since the popularity of the internet, the energy of the dance has changed a bit. YouTube has made some dancers more self-conscious, more tactical, a little less spontaneous. The pace has gotten faster, sometimes to the detriment of sabar’s classic form, but it is always creative, always fiery.
You have recorded seven albums, all well-received. Can you talk more about your most recent album, “Made in Senegal”?
Yes, I’ve been recording with a new group of Senegalese up and coming musicians like Ibou Mbaye, Thierno Sarr, Amady Sidibe, Aboulaye Lo, Ibou Calebasse, Jean Mermoz, Dembel Diop, Babacar Seck, among others. They are extraordinary musicians who perform in various configurations for the country’s top artists. They play with one another so often, they have an incredible symbiosis when they collaborate. It is thrilling to see them record together at lightening speed. They easily learn and record three songs in a day by memory alone, no charts.
In the studio once, they said to me jokingly, “Ashley, you’re like a man!” because generally the young, female singers who they record with do not contribute to the actual music. Rather, the musicians create the music and then the singers create something over it. By contrast, I arrive with the songs already mapped out. They are not used to that from a woman.
I also work with the producer, Papis Konate. I come with my knowledge and my voice. Sometimes I have musical ideas that they develop. I bring my best and they bring their best. I may bring the harmony, while they bring the rhythm. Mbalax is a very rhythmical language.
In interview, Cheikh Ndoye, jazz artist and bassist for the legendary vocalist Baaba Maal, commented on Ashley’s musical ability, “She’s very familiar with Senegalese music and truly understands the roots of the mbalax style. She’s so talented.” And Thomas Rome, who has managed Youssou N’Dour, added, “Ashley’s a gifted dancer and singer. She has an abiding interest in West Africa, a uniqueness of interest. She has spent a lot of time in Senegal and brings a true exchange to her work with African musicians. Not every Western musician can find a way in, but just like Van Morrison sings a true R n’ B, Ashley creates the best Senegalese mbalax.”
After several years working in the music industry, where are you now?
You know it has not always been easy. I realized God has given me this talent and a love for this music. Combining dance and music, you cannot transcend further. They offer such a source of true joy. I am in more of a place of love and connection than ever before. All of the struggle that went on earlier has vanished. I can move through life in a more peaceful way.
But the question is also, with my many years of musical experience, what next? How can I be of service? Should I move back to London so that I can be closer to Africa? I would love to take this musical group I am working with now out on the world’s stages. I want to showcase their talent and perform at large international festivals. The great vocalist Cesaria Evora started touring in her 60’s. I would love the opportunity to put on a magical show and for this music to be more fully heard.
Improv with Leergui on acoustic guitar and Ibou Calebasse on calabash:
https://www.facebook.com/AshleyMaherGlobalDiva/videos/10159454882895522
For more about Ashley Maher visit www.ashleymaher.com
(headline image: Ashley Maher with her band members)
Author: Dorothy Johnson-Laird
Dorothy Johnson-Laird comes from a long line of musicians, including a music teacher in the 1820s in England. As a child she trained in both classical and jazz piano. Dorothy has a Master’s Degree in Creative Writing from Sarah Lawrence College. At New School University, she was the Research Assistant for a course taught on gender issues and women in blues music. Dorothy’s passion is African music. She was formerly a regular contributor to worldmusic.about.com.