The Future is Ancestral
There are evenings during the Swaledale Festival when the valley seems to pause for a moment, as if listening. Last night at St Andrews Church in Grinton was one of those rare occasions. The light softened, the stone walls held their usual calm, and the audience settled into a kind of shared stillness long before the first note was played.
When Suntou Susso stepped forward with his kora, the atmosphere shifted again. The instrument itself has a presence that is hard to describe until you hear it in a quiet space like this. Twenty two strings stretched over a large calabash, creating a sound that is bright and fluid, yet rooted in something far older than the building it filled. In Suntou’s hands it became a voice that carried both delicacy and strength.
Suntou comes from a long line of Gambian griots, families who hold the stories, histories and rhythms of their communities. That heritage was woven through every piece he played. There was a sense of lineage in the music, but also a freshness, a willingness to explore and to bring something new to the tradition. His songs touched on belonging, unity and the threads that tie people together across time and distance.
The church responded in its own quiet way. You could feel the audience leaning in, listening not just to the notes but to the spaces between them. The kora shimmered against the stone arches, rising and falling like light on water. At times the music felt almost conversational, as if Suntou was speaking directly to the room, inviting everyone into the story.
Photographing a performance like this is always a balance. You want to honour the atmosphere without disturbing it. The soft glow of the church lights, the concentration on Suntou’s face, the movement of his hands across the strings, the way the instrument seemed to gather the room around it. These were the moments that stood out. Small details, but full of meaning.
It was an evening that lingered long after the final note faded. A reminder that music can carry history, memory and hope all at once, and that sometimes the most powerful performances are the ones that feel the most human.
A few photographs from the night are below.
