‘Le Ker Creole’ shines a bright light on the Louisiana’s Creole language
24th September 2019 · 0 Comments
By Geraldine Wyckoff
Contributing Writer
In celebration of the publication of “Le Ker Creole – Creole Compositions & Stories” and its accompanying CD, a gathering will take place at 7 p.m. on Thursday, September 26, at the New Orleans Jazz Museum in the Old U.S. Mint. The book’s authors, musician Bruce “Sunpie” Barnes and cultural musicologist Rachel Breunlin, plus many of the contributors to the ambitious project will be on hand for the event that, considering the number of musicians involved, has all the makings of a Creole dance party.
Accordionist and vocalist Barnes and drummer Leroy Joseph Etienne, whose first language was Creole and who wrote and sang on many of the album’s original selections, will lead a band that includes a slew of artists heard on the disc. They include members of the Preservation Hall Band and a number of Mardi Gras Indians in an ensemble complete with horns.
“Le Ker Creole” digs deep into the history of the Louisiana Creole language, which, by some, is referred to as Creole French, through essays, translations, artwork and photography. The CD allows one to savor the flavor of language that is considered to now be one of the most “endangered languages in the world.” Importantly, in the book are all of the lyrics to the tunes, which are sung in Louisiana Creole, written both in English and Creole. As Creole French, “a francophone language with connections to West Africa,” has primarily been passed down orally, seeing the written words and spellings side-by-side offers the opportunity to pick up on a few phrases like “pretty girl” – “joli fiy” and “drink your coffee” – “bwa ta kafe.”
Because its purpose is to bring light to the uniqueness of the Louisiana Creole language and its origins, the book begins, rather academically with the history of the state, its people, religious practices and the oppression of slavery. However, “Le Ker Creole” doesn’t necessarily need to be read straight through as a text. It might be recommended to let the photographs and various subject matters draw one into that part of the culture and language’s evolution that one finds of particular interest. Skipping through some enlightening first-person commentaries is satisfying and might lead one back to the start.
Many people worldwide were first made aware of Creole French through zydeco music particularly as sung by the King of Zydeco and the music’s ambassador Clifton Chenier on tunes like the rousing “Zydeco sont pant pas sale” and “Aye Tite Fille,” which was a cover of Professor Longhair’s “Hey Little Girl.” Or perhaps, it was on hearing jazz guitarist/banjoist Danny Barker sing “Eh La Bas.” As the book points out, the Creole language surrounds us more than most people realize, including those from its centers in New Orleans and the southwest area of the state. A number of jazz and zydeco musicians, Mardi Gras Indians and residents of Louisiana boasting a variety of professions grew up speaking, or at least hearing their parents and neighbors speak Creole French daily. Louisiana Creole was actually outlawed in 1921 though fortunately that culturally discriminatory law didn’t deter those who continued to speak their “home language.” A next generation, however, can still remember an English-only directive at their schools.The album, which shares the book’s title and presently is only available in the package, is a real beauty. It sways with a Caribbean rhythm on Etienne’s “Hey Nom” – “Hey Man” with the composer on drums and vocals, Barnes on accordion, Matt Hampsey on guitar and Michael Harris on bass. It then offers a more modern, uptempo zydeco number that fans of the genre should find familiar. No zydeco performance is complete without a waltz and the talented Etienne offers a lovely, new tune to the repertoire, “Tristes” – “Sad Times.”
Barnes takes on arranging several traditional numbers such as the humorous “Danse Codan,” which thankfully includes the translated lyrics, “It’s the monkey who is playing the violin.”
A soft Caribbean breeze enters on Etienne’s “Od Pour Odelia” – “Ode for Odelia,” which is presented as a trio with Etienne on vocals and drums, guitarist Hampsey and bassist Harris. Who except those who understand the Creole language would ever have guessed that the subject of the tune is a man selling rotten bananas and a young child’s memory of his mother calling out to him despite his inferior fruit. On hearing it, one would think it is a love song.
Even the blues are sung in Creole French on tunes like Barnes’ self-penned “La Ba Che Monroe” and there are a few classics, such as “Sali Dam” – “Salty Lady,” that have been rejuvenated in recent years by artists like Barnes and guitarist/banjoist Don Vappie.
The disc ends with Barnes leading a Mardi Gras Indian chant that includes Big Chief Clarence “Delco” Dalcour of the Creole Osceolas. He’s quoted in the book talking about how he grew up in the “Creole-speaking” area of New Orleans called Voscoville. “I heard the language around me.”
“Le Ker Creole” connects the many journeys of the Louisiana Creole language that, as Chief Delco experienced, ultimately remains all around us.
This article originally published in the September 23, 2019 print edition of The Louisiana Weekly newspaper.