The Q&A: Mayra Andrade

MOST anyone who knows the music of Cape Verde, an archipelago nestled 500km off the coast of West Africa, first learned of these sublime sounds through the music of Cesária Évora. She popularised morna, the melancholy strains that are unmistakably the Cape-Verdean style of blues. Évora passed away last month, but the emotional essence of morna lives on through one of the country’s most celebrated sirens—27-year-old Mayra Andrade. As Vasco R.A. Pires, a Cape Verdean poet, has mused: "Like the constant caress of the ocean waves, Mayra's voice expresses our soul and spirit, and the world is amazed."
 
Ms Andrade’s music has earned acclaim and a range of awards throughout Europe, including the prestigious German Record Critics Award. During her brief hiatus from touring, I talked to her over the phone about public expectations of an African artist and what it means to make honest music.
 
The relationship that musicians have with their craft is often an intimate one. How did you develop your passion for music?
 
I don’t think I really chose music—instead, music chose me. From the moment I was born, I felt like I was surrounded by the sounds of the famous Cape Verdean singers like Bana, and Brazilian musicians such as Caetano and Milton Nascimiento. I was being seduced by this acoustic sound, and I just couldn’t ignore it.
 
You were born in Cuba, spent your formative years in Senegal, Germany and Cape Verde, and you are now settled in Paris. How have these life experiences influenced your musical aesthetic?
 
You can’t be the same after living in different spaces. You can’t do the same music after your eyes have seen the wonders of the world. The direction in which I have grown is very different from the world of my youth. I want my music to be a reflection of this journey.
 
Your first release was "Navega" in 2006. Then in 2009 you released "Storia Storia". How did you evolve as an artist from your first project to your second?
 
With "Storia Storia" I stretched myself to embrace a variety of musical styles. And I had the opportunity to work with so many amazing musicians who were incredibly generous with their gifts. The basis of the album was recorded in São Paulo, Rio de Janeiro and Salvador da Bahia—with musical guests from Cuba, along with an array of Brazilian arrangers. It was really a chance to spread my wings artistically and to experiment with different sounds.
 
In November 2010 and you released your third album, "Studio 105". How did you approach this project?
 
I really wanted to breathe new life into earlier compositions from my previous albums, plus three covers of some other songs. After doing the original versions, I felt free to do different arrangements. I think that as an artist, it’s important that you don’t fall into complacency, you don’t have to do what you always do. So I figured I would take the opportunity to try something new.
 
As an African artist, do you feel under pressure to make a certain type of music?
 
For African musicians there’s always this pressure to be traditional. The audience has certain expectations of you because you’re African—they want something exotic. But just conforming to others’ expectations can become meaningless over time. Someone might say that I’m not traditional enough. But no one ever says to a pop singer, "You’re not pop enough".
 
So what have you been working on recently?
 
I’m in a strange and interesting moment musically. I really want to stretch myself, otherwise I fear I may find myself bored. Yet, this isn’t an easy process. I’m very close to my musical heritage, so I have to fight with myself to keep from doing the same old thing. But I want to reach people’s hearts with my music—I want it to be honest. I think people can tell when you’re being honest, and when you’re just going through the motions.
 
How have you found inspiration?
 
It’s a very interesting process. I’ve been listening to a lot of other music lately, just trying to develop a greater appreciation for how others work, what I like, why I like it, and what elements I may even borrow. It’s a very different process for me. On one hand, right now, I need the time to do nothing and to go through this phase of discovery, but I also feel a little guilty that I’m not creating more albums. I am doing some shows, but I’m mostly in the studio experimenting.
 
What is the one thing about yourself and your music that you wish people understood?
 
I really don’t like to expose my private life. But at the same time I really want to invite people to be a part of my life—to understand who I am through my voice. It’s almost like when you’ve become so close with someone that you understand them without them having to say a word. In this business, when you pour your soul into your music, you feel very exposed. It’s like you aren’t allowed to make mistakes—either they love you or hate you. This type of intimacy can be very frightening. We’ll see where my musical journey takes me, and see how willing people are to accept what I’m giving them. But I think it’s important that the world accepts African musicians for who they really are.