Madame Collaps…
One early evening towards the end of the sixties of the last century I am again editing=cutting tapes for my forthcoming Sunday broadcast at Radio Mali ‘Dimanche Pele-Mele‘ (Sunday mix-up)- the only 5-hour broadcast on an African radio station entirely moderated by a toubaba or whiteman.
I am cutting those tapes in my smallish, hottish office when I am forced to listen to some noise across the corridor, where a Malian colleague seems to be doing the same kind of job. Seems Abdoulaye is – desperately - editing a tape for the evening news programme, the ‘Journal Parlé‘.
His interview partner is definitely a white female person with a thick southern European accent. I can ‘over-hear’ that the woman is quite stubborn.
ly insists "No, my friend, I CANNOT sing here,
Since I do need an entire orchestra!" And she also insists: "I am very, very tired!"
I walk across the corridor and ask my colleague who the interviewed person is, and whether he can make me listen to the interview.
I listen to the interview and start guessing. Also my colleague tells me that the woman's name is ‚Mrs. Collaps', and that she is a ‚singer'. "Seems she is very prominent and she is travelling with two men."
Looking into my colleague's note-pad I discover that the lady in question is none other than 'the singer' MARIA Callas ‚ or 'Mrs. Collaps'
niemand anderes als Maria Callas ist. Begleitet wird sie von
I begt my colleague to be allowed to listen to the entire tape, and I discover that my collegue thought Mrs. Collaps was a colleague to the eye-glass-wearing Greek singer Nana Mouskouri, so much loved in Mali.
The entire ran like this:
"Mrs. Collaps, which are your favorite songs?"
Mrs. Collaps' answer:
"I do NOT sing songs. I sing in the opera."
Question:
"Could you tell us which are your best known songs?"
Mrs. Collaps:
"I have not BEST-KNOWN songs: I sing arias or Lieder."
Question:
"Mrs. Collaps, will you perform here in Mali?"
Mrs. Collaps:
"No, my friend, for that I need an orchestra."
My colleague:
"No problem, Mrs. Collaps, we have a national orchestra."
Etc. Etc.
And finally Mrs. Collaps tells my colleague that she "is very tired."
Ende of interview.
I beg my colleague to, please, NOT put this interview on air, since he seems to
have mistunderstood something. He simply doesn't understand – how could
he a son of the country where those beautiful instruments the Kora and
the Balafon reign supreme … The poor fellow had been sent to the airport
"to interviews some VIPs".
I call my friend the director of the radio station, explain to him, and finally
he tells my colleague 'not to air that interview'.
The ‚explanation' followed next morning ... when my friend
The Israeli ambassador came to the radio station to see my colleague
Jean-Claude de Thandt and myself, to let us know that he had the
visit of "three interesting friends on a three-months-world-tour".
Their names Piero Pasolini, Alberto Moravia and ... Maria Callas.
Would Jean-Claude and myself – "you two music-lovers and Africa-
freaks" - be willing "to converse a bit with the three visistors, telling
them about Mali?"
Needless to say that we felt ‚deeply honoured' ! And so next
morning we had our first breakfast with the VIP trio. Followed by a
lush dinner in the restaurant "Les trois caimans."
Small surprise that during that dinner ‚Mme Collaps' also
told – and con mucho gusto – us and her two companions the story
of that interview – which never went on air. _______________________________________________________
PS:
My colleague Jean-Claude and myself then committed a major ‚sin'
By NOT accompanying the VIP trio on their trip to the Dogon, where
Pasolini wanted to do some fliming woth his re-wind EUMIG camera
for his planned major film on the 'Orestie'. … we simply – and
stupidly were just too serious 'development workers' in the national radio …
Se non e vero, e ben racontato...
Ma, e vero!!!
_______________________________________________________
Recently I told the TRUE story to a female do-gooder friend, who was
very 'shocked', since "this is a racist story!"
What couId I possibly offer her as ‚Wiedergutmachung' or saving …?
Well, there are many real stories and I shall simply take two with
my good friend Yemi Oyeneye, with whom I 'went to school' at the
University of Ibadan in Nigeria several years before.
In the early eighties my good friend and colleague from German TV
Luc Leysen and seff leave Lagos/Nigeria after some heavy filming on
December 2ooieth in the direction of Cologne.
Small surprise that during that dinner ‚Mme Collaps' also
told – and con mucho gusto – us and her two companions the story
of that interview – which never went on air.
11 days later we are hit by the news of the New Year's Eve military
coup in Nigeria. For days we are waiting to learn that the airport –
Closed like is usual after coups – has been opened again, and
on January 6th we fly back to Nigeria.
As usual our ‚informant' Yemi welcomes usd at the airport,
Where the following conversation 'ensues' …
(Original sound):
"Yemi, tell me: how much violence was there in the coup?"
Yemi:
"Not enough for you Television people."
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