Sierra Leone Invades Brooklyn

This weekend, the Brooklyn Museum added another dimension to its visual arts exhibitions. Outside in the courtyard, Bajah + the Dry Eye Crew, a hip-hop group from Sierra Leone, chanted in circles with the participation of their fans– small in numbers, but not enthusiasm. Backed by a live band, they then scrambled on to the tiny makeshift stage where they barely managed to fit all nine members. This small venue, with only a couple hundred onlookers in attendance, was a much more modest show than the group is used to playing at home. Regularly selling out the Sierra Leone national stadium, the Brooklyn Museum courtyard was a definite change of pace for the group. Regardless, Bajah + the Dry Eye Crew took advantage of the intimate space, and put forth a formidable dose of energy into the usually reserved museum atmosphere.The group is led by Bajah, a charismatic front-man whose unstoppable spirit kept the audience captivated. The group’s experience with war in the West African country plays a big role in their songs, and Bajah’s lyrics communicate the consequences to one’s soul that the pain of war brings to its victims. Love and bloodshed are equally important aspects of their music, but as they explain, the two are constantly and unavoidably intertwined. Their knowledge of war in Sierra Leone comes first hand, and watching Bajah and his crew enact scenes of war, it’s impossible to forget how far they’ve come. After their set, the group introduced a group of female drummers from Rwanda. If that doesn’t sound exotic enough, these girls (none looked older than fifteen) were the first ever female percussionists from Rwanda. Regional laws prohibit girls from playing this instrument, but after seeing their skill and passion for drumming, one can only hope that this is only the beginning of their musical journey, and that their zeal for this talent is shared with other women in their country. The ladies were on an expedition in America, not only to share their music, but also to learn the secrets of making ice-cream, which they hope to bring back to Rwanda to provide an opportunity to create a small business for women there.The most captivating moment in this culturally rich afternoon was not a song at all, but rather Bajah’s spoken-word interlude about love and war. He depicted a scene of blood, bombs and bullets, dropping to the floor as the DJ played these sounds of war. This is not a group trying to win over an American audience by relating to and imitating our customs, but rather one whose intentions are to share their own experience with the world. And on Saturday at the Brooklyn Museum, they did just that.Their free mixtape is released today, so be sure to grab it over at their website. (Nicholas Berger) var gaJsHost = ((“https:” == document.location.protocol) ? “https://ssl.” : “http://www.”); document.write(unescape(“%3Cscript src=’” + gaJsHost + “google-analytics.com/ga.js’ type=’text/javascript’%3E%3C/script%3E”)); try { var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker(“UA-9004288-1″);