Fifteen years after her death, ten previously unreleased recordings by Cesária Évora remind us how the Cape Verdean singer embodied sodade with a groove that belonged only to her.
She left us fifteen years ago, yet one might still feel her presence, very close, as if she were here, singing of all the harshness and the joy that life can hold. Instantaneous and persistent, this impression confirms that, in some cases, posthumous releases live up to their subject. This is the case with Reina da Morna, aptly named after the genre whose crown she carried with head held high—and barefoot, of course. A genre born in Cape Verde, where acoustic guitars and cavaquinho carry melodies that tell both the torments of love and the wounds of colonial presence. This morna, Cesária Évora made shine far beyond her natal archipelago. Thus, to celebrate the fifteenth anniversary of her passing, ten unreleased recordings from the archives of her faithful producer and Lusafrica founder, José da Silva, have been exhumed, set aside through the sessions in order to preserve the balance of her albums.
Far from forgotten ephemera, these rediscoveries, fortunately, escaped disposable arrangements and opportunistic remixes. In their raw form, these songs fuse the nostalgia of sodade, the rhythms of coladeira, and the warmth of Afro-Cuban and Brazilian influences. Two distinct and remarkably complementary musical aims intersect here: Bau’s, a proud heir to the morna tradition, and pianist Nando Andrade, passionate about Latin music and a regular Lusafrica collaborator.
Cape Verdean Sodade
One pays homage to the melodic elegance of the love declaration to São Vicente, Sonsente, which celebrates Cesária Évora’s homeland while recalling the homesickness of those who were forced to leave it. The nonchalant groove and the whistling of E Nos Cabo Verde, the saxophone of the plaintive Junior, the jazzy poetry of Brisa D’bo Sorriso, “the breeze of your smile”, and the contredanse of Nos Contradança, inherited from Santo Antão, where Évora’s mother originated, all make their mark. Up to the sustained strings of the closing No Po Na Ton, the voice of the Cape Verdean diva remains precise, in every sense of the word. What strikes most, however, is her interpretation—never forced, allowing breaths to breathe within the melodies, which she embraces without submitting to them. This freedom is heard, still and always, in her repertoire choices, embodied through emotions that continue to stir the guts… or soothe the soul.
Reina da Morna (Lusafrica/Sony Music). Release on October 16.
