To Build Beyond

Sól: Even though I didn’t understand what the vocals were saying, I felt called to something to either bring attention or to be more present about what was happening. It sounds like that vocal piece found you and was perfect for what you were trying to create. I think all of us are trying to find our place and our role in things happening in the world and in our own homelands.

What was your personal connection to, or history to the beats or singing that you used? With your collaborations with Nite Bjuti, that center around improvisation, how would you describe that feeling thread? 

Val: It’s mostly improv because that’s where I live. It’s also because that’s connected to the Vodou culture. In the Vodou culture, nobody is the one, two, three, four. It’s all like a feeling, but it starts from a place of respect. You have to respect the art first, and then you always ask. For me, even when I play these tools, I say, “Hey, can I play? Is today your day?” And sometimes this one gets upset and is like, “No, I want you to play this one.” It’s a thing of trusting and creating this kind of world, just like you see here, I’ve created this world that I exist in, and I trust it. The first step is, “Okay, what am I trying to do? Okay, let me start with the prayer.”

From there, sometimes I’ll start with a scratch. Then I allow myself to go where I need to go. I play so many different gears, and then I get bored with one particular gear. If I just play the drums, after five minutes, I’m like, “Okay, all right, that’s enough,” and then I’ll go to the next thing. I think that all ties into the culture because I’m just the vessel. If I’m trying to do something, then it doesn’t turn out as well as if I just let it happen, you see? But for me, in my heart, it’s always about improv.

I don’t mind doing charted work. I’ve worked and dealt with a bunch of different great musicians and learned so much from them. That’s the best part for me. At some point, it does get boring, because I kind of know what’s coming up, but some of the work is hard, so I have to kind of catch up to what they’re doing. But improv, because it’s such a thing where it’s like you have to express it from within. It’s not out here. It doesn’t exist in this world. It exists here inside of you, in your mind, in your throat, in your chakras. But I know it’s different for every musician. So I try to collaborate with folks that know both systems. They can do the improv and they can do a chart.

For me, there’s something that happens when you don’t know, because the mind wants to act like, “Oh, I’m so smart.” I get a little bit blushy because I’m like, “Wow, that’s even better than what I could have thought I could have done.” So I learned to kind of trust that. I’ve learned to also adapt to the practice of just expressing it how it is, and not trying to think of it too much, because then it’s like, “Oh, well, I thought about it,” and possibly something that I was listening to may slip into it. I don’t really want to allow that kind of space, I try to keep it as clear as possible. It’s fun when you start from nothing, and then you see, “Wow, okay. Did I do that?” And then you build trust. 

With Nite Bjuti, Candice Hoyes, who’s a singer, she’s just amazing. I mean, you don’t even have to say anything. She just goes, because she understands that it’s about being humble and allowing yourself to become greater than you are. The last gig we did at the Public Records, we were playing and, as I’m playing, I’m like, “Wow, I feel something.” And then I looked on stage, and then Candice was [singing what I felt]. It’s just a flow. Then Mimi Jones, she plays the bass, an absolute beast. She’ll play in the note before, Candice sings it, and then they’ll catch each other. Sometimes I’m like, “What? How are they doing that?” And I’m like, “Okay, let me just follow along.” They’re just so creative. It makes it easy for me to exist within that environment. 

Sól: It seems that y’all’s energies are really synchronized. Everybody’s present in that moment to create something that will never happen again. Every one of you is present. Hearing that reminds me of Tanya Tagaq, who’s an Inuk throat singer. Most of her work is improvised and talking about her ancestors and the tundra. But also what was really interesting is that she’s like, when I am doing my thing, I can feel the audience. Do you respond to the audience, or do you quiet that down and just listen to yourself?

Val: Usually, I’m not aware of the outside world. I’m just so in it that I’m not even aware. But when I’m working, let’s say, with Nite Bjuti, then I’m gauging it. It’s more like a convo. When I’m doing my stuff, I’m just so gone, but what I do feel are energies.

One time I did a gig — this was a long time ago, 1998 or something — at this place called Baby Jupiter’s in New York and my dad came up for it. I was playing a solo, there’s a lot of drums and stuff, and then I felt some kind of energy there. And then when I looked, it was this guy in a Wall Street suit, but he was up and he was dancing. I mean, he was doing all the Vodou movements, all of this stuff, Yanvalou, everything. I just felt the heat. And then after the show, my dad said, “Hey, there’s some powerful vibrations that you’re dealing with.” I said, “Oh, okay! Thanks, Dad.”

Sól: He knew.

Val: Oh, yeah. He knew. So sometimes I feel vibes, but I’m totally gone. I don’t like to be distracted by this world. When I’m there, I don’t want to be bothered. I want to just get everything out and be focused. Once I’m done, then I can engage.

Sól: I love that. You’re very in tune with the world and outside of that, also with yourself and the galaxies that you referred to earlier. And he definitely felt that manifestation, this audience member. That’s gorgeous. The final question I wanted to ask you: are there any upcoming projects that you’re excited about or that you want to mention?

Val: The one I’m super psyched about is a duet with a harpist. Her name is Cassandra Watson Francillon, and she is from New Orleans, and also Haitian. We have a duet of a New Orleans Haitian gumbo thing going on, electroacoustic, but very out there. We’re channeling, we’re tapping into specific things, which makes it so dope. For a while, I could just go, “Okay, I’m going to tap into it,” and then I just go. But this time it’s so dope to have someone like, “Oh yeah, let’s go there. You want to tap into this? Let’s go.” She’s amazing. The way she plays! She brought the harp here [to my loft], my cats fell asleep, and in the whole space, I felt like a layer of honey. I felt it for weeks after she left. She’s got that stuff.

I also have another quartet that I just came back on tour with, ØKSE, which is dope. ØKSE means ax, and with that ax, we’re breaking down the barriers. I also have this solo project that I’m trying to finish up, and I have a couple more months to do some prep with some of my dancers, and then I’m going to put out a little video.

Sól: I will definitely be thinking about this conversation for a long time. Thank you for guiding us through this journey.

Val: Thank you for your time and the opportunity to stay creative. Ayibobo!