Lake of Stars

I wonder how many blogs from Malawi are presently bearing the same title as mine. I don’t wish to make mine long, for want of avoiding cliche but I couldn’t not mention it. Lake of Stars is probably the muzungu highlight of the year in Malawi. It is a music and art festival that takes place in the breathtaking setting of the Mangochi lakeshore. It is a 2-3 day escape, where you meet all your best friends, get irrevocably wasted, swim in the lake all day, watch new acts from Malawi and abroad and sleep rough in a tent, only to resume the same routine the next day... and if you’re made of that more resilient stuff, yet another day after that! It’s a convenient way to reset one’s clock here in Malawi. And that’s what I did.
Campsite
With Shiraz

I came to this festival slightly underwhelmed as inferred from my intro. Consequently, I left absolutely fulfilled, thrilled, tantalised! The strictly muzungu slash priviledged Malawian entourage did little to spoil that. I found the escape I sought in the acts on offer. They had spoken word, theatre and even nice paintings to complement the music. The line up on that front was exceptional. My being downbeat from the outset was largely attributable to my unfounded expectation of unending gospel or rap music that’s so mainstream in Malawi. Yet what came out at the lake was of a completely different order. Besides the international acts, which I list for my keen music-researching lot, even the Malawian music was highly original. Look out for Dan Lu and Peter Mawanga. Even the one gospel act I saw almost moved me to tears. It was a band of under-priviledged orphans from a school called Jacaranda and they honestly sung like real pros.
Jacaranda- the band

Worthy of mention is a particular protest concert that was set not far from the festival venue by the two main contemporary Malawian performers. They were apparently not made good enough offers. Instead, both Lucius Banda and the Black Missionaries played away and gathered their own crowds.

The most impressive numbers overall included the Zimbabwean enfant prodige Oliver Mtukudzi. He treated us to a real delight of jazz fused with regional beats on his first big show after coming back from an injury. Then there was Ivorian Aly Keita, who played an impressive xylophone held on delicately shaped claypots. The visual impact of an act like that one really potentiates the joys administered to one’s sense of sound. On that same note (okay not literally in musical parlance) there was a drumming band from Burundi, who performed on a level I don’t think can be achieved outside of African soil. If the drum could be made an electric instrument, then that would be one way. The electricity is what the music would generate, not consume! Mark down South African Nomfusi also, who produced some magical moments out there for us, not least for her Pata Pata version, which got me stomping way too early! We also had some brilliant British artists by the names of Tinashe (can’t help being a bit narcissic about that name being such a close anagram of mine), African Boy (UK via Nigeria- again awesome) and wait for it... The Noisettes. Oh dear! If I ever expected some glamour at that festival I never expected it to be on that scale. Maybe I was biased because I was desperate to find one thing the British did better than the Dutch who beat us shamefully at a football challenge, but even without that reason, I reckon they are one of the coolest live acts I’ve seen. Nothing pretentious, nothing absurdly fashion orientated or sexualised for that matter, but pure original movement in keeping with a love for the music. Yes, I loved it and I’ve ordered my CD of the full album already. The festival has achieved its one main objective (after money)... it has generated new fans.
Burundi Drummers
Aly Keita