A few months ago, Maryse Ngalula was invited to a friend’s birthday in France, where she was living temporarily. In the thick of the party, a putrid odour started to bother the singer: “Something rotting!” was her first thought. Around her, the guests carried on talking, oblivious. When one of her friends invited her to take something from the buffet, she realised with horror that it was the food on the table that was giving off such a stink! Spread before her was an array of whiffy French cheeses – camembert, goat’s, Roquefort, fourme d’Ambert… The story may seem anecdotal, but it lies at the heart of the artist’s project, which has just won her the Visas pour la Création programme, and takes the form of a collection based on the experiences of “an African arriving in Europe for the first time.”

The cheese disaster went on to inspire the song Fête des Fromages. Yet the 37-year-old, who sports short braided hair and a strong character, was also inspired by more serious issues: “Africans usually imagine living a rosy life in Europe. Misguided fantasies put forward the idea of a free life, where the state pays for your house, you don’t need to work because you can live off benefits. But when you get to France, you realise that it’s hard, just like everywhere.” She is continually surprised to note the disappearance of the “good manners” apparently instilled into Africans by the white men who colonised their lands.
Feminine take on African blues

It took Maryse some time to move from the pavements of Kinshasa to those of Paris. The eighth child of twelve, she grew up surrounded by music, from her father’s songs to her brothers’ guitars. At four, she composed her first song in honour of her mother, a choir singer.   

During her teenage years she strummed the guitar, wrote lyrics and tirelessly worked on her voice. A far cry from n'dombolo, which was flooding the Congolese airwaves at the time, the sound she produced was based on mutuashi, the hip-thrusting dance performed by the Luba ethnic group from which she descends. To these roots she grafted some unruly elements, funky rhythms and jazz harmonies, constantly seeking to reinvent tradition.   

She sums up her music simply: "African blues, soul music". Armed with just her voice and her guitar, the artist denounces the condition of women in Africa and subtly takes a stand: "I’m not really a militant, simply the victim of a certain type of African policy and someone who has witnessed the often unhappy lives of women. My experience indirectly pushes me to criticise what gets me down... But that isn’t the main topic of my songs."

Her art has won her several awards in her homeland, one of which took her to South Africa, where she stayed for seven years from 2002 to 2009, trying out the “blue note” with quite a few bands before returning to the Congo. Then in 2010, at the N’Sangu Ndji Ndji Festival in Pointe-Noire, she made a life-changing meeting. She immediately hit it off with the French jazz saxophonist Jean-Remy Guédon – who directs the association cum contemporary, multi-facetted big band, Archimusic, recognised for its projects in Africa.
In their newfound musical complicity, the two worked together and at last drew up an application for the Institut Français. To enter the Visas pour la Création programme, you need to have a partner in the host country; Archimusic agreed to sponsor Maryse, and she stayed in Meudon at the association’s premises and had access to their studio.  

Experimental music

Maryse Ngalula on MySpace

Once in Paris, thanks to the Institut Français’ subsidies, the singer started off with a visit to the obvious monuments, like the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe and the Louvre; she went to Marseilles and visited Cannes. Then she got down to work, writing prolifically, honing her words and at times spending several months on a single song, devising little stories that harboured a whole gamut of emotions.

At the same time she worked hard on her high notes (which had the sound engineers tearing out their hair) with the jazz singer Elise Caron, frequented the experimental music crowd, and performed a concert at Le Triton in the French suburbs with Jean-Rémy Guédon. Maryse likes "research music", difficult music that gets you thinking and resounds inside you. Which is probably why she called the burgeoning album and fruit of her five-month residency in Paris Ma Différence. The seven tracks that make up her demo reveal an appealing artist working off the beaten track and refusing to take easy options. Her voice and guitar fill the space and her agile, deep singing seems to mirror her soul within.

As her residency came to an end on 20 October, Maryse had the feeling of a “mission accomplished”. This November, she sets off for Brussels to perform a few dates. Nowadays she buys her own cheese and dreams of meeting Francis Cabrel, her father’s idol. And after that? “We’ll see…” she says with a smile.