A Gnaoua Lila in Marrakesh
On the final evening of our Mektoub Marrakesh 2022 trip, we were treated to something special: A Gnaoua lila.
“What’s a Gnaoua lila??” you may be asking. We will explain.
First, we need to know about the Gnaoua tradition and how it came to be a feature in Moroccan culture. As late as the 1890s, a trans-Saharan slave trade was in operation, which captured people in sub-Saharan African areas and transported them against their will northward, through the Sahara, and to the urban centers of the Maghreb. There they were enslaved by wealthy households. Eventually this practice was ended (in most areas) and the previously enslaved peoples integrated into North African society. One of the things they brought with them was the roots of the Gnaoua musical and spiritual tradition.
But what is that tradition? We can only talk about it in modern terms because it has changed as it integrated with North African Sufi Muslim belief systems and social customs. A central focus of the tradition are jnoun.
Jnoun (plural, singular is djinn or sometimes djinniyya for the feminine) are spirits, most simply put. In reality the definition is more complex and less easily summed up than that. The jnoun of modern Gnaoua practice are an amalgamation of spiritual figures brought with the trans-Saharan slave trade from areas like modern day Nigeria, with Islamic and pre-Islamic beliefs that were already established in the region of North Africa. Jnoun are mentioned in the Quran, but as a known entity — they were already present in the spiritual landscape of North Africa and parts of the Middle East at the time the Quran was compiled. The Quran condemns the veneration of jnoun generally, which lets us know that this practice has pre-Islamic roots. So, the idea of what jnoun are has changed over time, undergoing several major shifts: From a pre-Islamic to an Islamic understanding of their nature, and finally the incorporation of sub-Saharan African belief systems into their definition.
In modern day Morocco, jnoun are venerated and interacted with through ceremonies, presided over by spirit workers who have been brought up in this tradition. The Gnaoua spiritual masters are also master musicians, and the masters of the jnoun. Gnaoua music is the central focus of Gnaoua ceremonies, a.k.a. Gnaoua lila.
To explain it simply, a Gnaoua lila is a musical ceremony. Often the intention of the ceremony is healing, and Gnaoua lilas will be requested and performed both for general blessing of families and individuals as well as to diagnose and cure spiritual ailments which are often caused by dangerous jnoun.
The musician who leads the ceremony is called the maalam, or master. The maalam usually plays an instrument called a guembri, a deep bass toned lute. Under the direction of the maalam, the ceremony will progress through different songs and moments to begin an interaction with the jnoun. There are songs, rhythms, colors, and ritual observances connected with specific jnoun. In order to diagnose which djinn is causing an issue, the maalam may play a number of different songs, and carefully watch the reaction of the ceremony participants. When the maalam hits upon the correct one, the participants will respond and the maalam will know which djinn to work with for the remainder of the ceremony as he attempts to treat the afflicted person(s). In other situations, in the absence of the need to treat an ailment, the maalam may choose songs from a number of jnoun he believes will be most beneficial, and honor each one at a time. These ceremonies, whether curative or blessing in nature, are called Gnaoua lila.
Our experience of Gnaoua music at Mektoub Marrakesh 2022 was an unexpected one. In addition to their spiritual function, Gnaoua musicians in the modern day also play music outside a ceremonial context. The music can be enjoyed in its own right for its driving rhythms and call and response singing. We had planned the evening as a cultural experience of an important form of Moroccan music. So it came as a surprise when it dawned on us, a bit late, that we were in fact in for a Gnaoua lila, and not just some entertainment, after the musicians had arrived on the evening of our final night in Marrakesh.
Our maalam, Marouane, is highly regarded among Gnaoua masters in Marrakesh. His affect was serious, and he treated his work with reverence. Before beginning to play, he made it known to us that some things were necessary, like a tray of traditional auspicious items such as henna leaves, milk, orange flower water, and incense. We quickly arranged what we could.
He began with Lalla Aicha. Lalla Aicha is a female djinn, considered very important and powerful by Moroccans. Her full name is Aicha Qandicha — lalla is a term of respect for a woman in Moroccan Arabic. Considered responsible for a myriad of dangerous situations and conditions, Lalla Aicha is regarded by Moroccans with a combination of veneration and fear. Honoring her can bring relief from her wrath, but can also strengthen an affinity bond with her. Basically, if one can manage to be on Lalla Aicha’s good side, this is best — but she can change on a dime and so one needs to be careful.
After playing one of Lalla Aicha’s songs, Marouane instructed us to bring a specific kind of incense, and to kill the lights — all of them. The next of Lalla Aicha’s songs was to be played in complete darkness, and her specific incense was required for the ceremony. Jenpa shared some thoughts on this moment:
“This was one of those moments I never anticipated. Hearing the first few notes of Lalla Aicha Sudaniyya’s song, live in person, was powerful. And a few moments later, being commanded by the maalam to bring jawi (incense), which I had to literally sprint to the herboriste down the street for, not just because I wanted to do it but because it was a ceremonial necessity — it hit me like a ton of bricks. I said to the herboriste, “J’ai besoin jawi! Rouge, blanc, et noire. Le maalam est chez moi maintenant!” (“I need jawi! Red, white, and black. The maalam is at my place right now!”) and he sprung into action, absolutely understanding the urgency of my request. What a moment! Not a situation I ever saw myself being in, and that is some of the magic of Morocco. I sat and cried cleansing tears as I absorbed Aicha’s energy.”
After Lalla Aicha, Marouane explained that we would venerate Lalla Malika. Lalla Malika is generally considered to be somewhat less dangerous than Lalla Aicha, and her name Malika means queen. She is of royal breeding, and prefers fancy clothing and French perfume. When she takes possession of individuals, she speaks French rather than Moroccan Arabic. To venerate Lalla Malika, Kenzi was chosen as the stand-in and adorned with a crown. Marouane played Lalla Malika’s song and instructed us all to get up and dance.
Mektoub attendee Samantha shared the following:
For me, the ceremony was almost a trancelike synesthesia of sound and sight; An experience of sitting in the dark with the incense smoke around you, swaying and moving… My minds eye was flooded with colorful visual elements accumulated from the trip: patterns of embroidery and tile and leatherwork… visions that still flood my senses when I listen and draw still now that I’m home.
From Mektoub attendee Debi:
Magic. The magic of a surprise; of music; of gathering together to experience something out of the ordinary; to witness people who devote themselves to their art, sharing it wholeheartedly. Wholehearted. Is it any wonder that we were all moved, transported for that time into another way of being, another way of hearing and seeing? Magic.
The final djinn to appease was Mirra. While many of the other jnoun, including Lalla Aicha and Lalla Malika are considered to have actually traveled overland from other parts of Africa before taking up residence in Morocco, Lalla Mirra is thought of as an indigenous Moroccan Amazigh personality. She wears Amazigh clothes and jewelry, and is fond of the amber beads that are part of many traditional Amazigh womens’ festive ensembles. Her color is yellow and she prefers henna patterns without pattern — just a smear on the palms of the hands.
Mektoub attendee Connie described her experience of Lalla Mirra’s song:
“I walked in thinking, ok, it’s going to be an evening of light entertainment with local musicians… I’m gonna have to smile politely, and clap politely, and pretend to understand and enjoy what’s happening.
But the really shocking thing was how, by three pieces in, by the time we got to the third piece of music, I was crying. If you want to get anatomical, the crying was coming from my diaphragm, underneath my lungs, it was literally coming out from my gut, and it was a really cleansing sort of cry that I didn’t know I needed.”
Mektoub attendee Anisha described her experience:
I liked being guided to listen in the correct way which made it all the more special. I had never heard this type of music before, yet I came away feeling changed somehow — looking at the other faces in the room, I know I wasn’t the only one! I felt very privileged to have been able to see this group and share such an intimate performance.
Eventually, the ceremony winded down for the evening, after a final blessing from Marouane performed with a bottle of perfume that we just happened to have on hand. We looked around at each other, silent and bewildered by what we had all experienced together. It was something none of us had expected and the power of the experience was undeniable. It was mektoub.
Want to listen to some Gnaoua music? Here’s a Spotify playlist to enjoy as you imagine the magical ambiance of a Gnaoua lila: Gnaoua Music
