Leyla McCalla: “This feels like an arrival of sounds”

I read adrienne maree brown’s Pleasure Activism and loved it so much because it allows you to realise that the point of life is to be joyful and to experience pleasure and if you don’t know what pleases you, it’s hard to be that light you wanna be in the world,” says Leyla McCalla. The Haitian-American artist is in Seattle, partway through an extensive world tour promoting her new album, Sun Without the Heat. It’s an album filled with uplifting messages, seeking out faith and happiness among the difficulties that life presents.

“The album was inspired by me realising that I wanted to push my sound into new sonic territory, places that I had previously [left] unexplored musically, but certainly explored from a listening-experience perspective. I was trying to find and make sounds that felt honest but also expansive; to come up with a life philosophy that also felt honest and expansive.”

Leyla McCalla (photo: Rachel Craig)

McCalla was born in New York to Haitian parents, later moving to New Orleans. Her first album, 2013’s Vari-Colored Songs, was a tribute to the American poet, writer and activist Langston Hughes. She followed that with A Day for the Hunter, A Day for the Prey (2016), Capitalist Blues (2019) and Breaking the Thermometer (2022), albums that explored her Haitian heritage, the culture of her adopted Louisiana and the histories and sociopolitical conditions that united Haiti and New Orleans. Yet, underneath the extensive research she put into these projects there were deeper questions: “I was thinking, what is the cause of my suffering? And what are the things holding me back from being a full person?”

And that’s exactly what her new album answers. “I think that’s what I’ve been trying to get at this whole time,” she recalls, “but I had to explore these other ideas first. I feel like that was the groundwork, and now I’m in this space where I can really do whatever I want, whilst also looking inward, questioning, what do I want? What am I trying to say? How can I be honest but still experimental and playful and open? That’s the thing I have to define.”

McCalla’s fifth studio album sounds experimental and fresh, her voice as clear as it is bold, a reflection of her personal growth. She describes the making of the album as a “spiritual and alchemising process.” “We had this beautiful house right on the river. It was nourishing and nurturing; I had space to write and think and create. That’s what artists need,” she asserts. McCalla brought her personal journals and poetry books, “I would look back and read a lot, I lit candles every day, I prayed to my ancestors; there was a lot that went into it,” she explains.

She and her band spent nine days writing the album’s ten songs at Dockside Studios, a beautiful and nurturing space on the banks of the Vermilion Bayou in Southwest Louisiana. She had already written fragments, but she was given time by her producer Maryam Qudus, who told her what to do and what she needed to focus on.

McCalla brought her banjo, cello and guitar and on instruction, a playlist of the sounds she was going for, and Qudus brought a selection of synthesizers which she had never previously experimented with. McCalla was initially uncertain but trusted in Qusus’ vision. “She was like, ‘This is all going to make sense once your band is in the room because your band is awesome.’ And it totally did!”

McCalla’s been playing with her bandmates now for four to six years. But this occasion felt different. “It was a real opportunity to dig into our own unique sound together instead of just improvising on these songs. This feels like an arrival of sounds in that way.” It felt both familiar and innovative, she exclaims. Sure enough, the album moves from the fuzzy guitars of the Brazilian tropicália-embodying ‘Tree’ to more simple Caribbean-inflected ballads such as ‘Sun Without the Heat’.

“I think I do best when I have collaborators who are structured in their approach,” she shares, smiling. This sentiment echoes throughout our conversation. She expresses gratitude for the structure provided by her collaborators, which contrasts with her natural inclination towards a more spontaneous creative process. “It’s amazing when someone provides a structure for you to do creative work.”

When she made this album, she was “feeling very shaky,” she explains. “I have a definite propensity for existentialism and with that, worry… Now a year later, reflecting back, I feel like I can see more clearly, where I was, why I was feeling so shaky and also why I needed to write these songs. I couldn’t have written these songs without that shaky feeling,” she reflects. “As paradoxical as it is, there’s a lot of beauty in being able to reflect on where these songs came from and how they’ve already changed the trajectory of my music and my life and will hopefully continue to reach the people that need it. There’s something very gratifying about that.”

The album’s second song, ‘Scaled to Survive’, is a lyrical and gentle ode to parenthood, particularly to the roles of our mothers, offering a lyrical exploration of the pain, the stoicism, the strength and the love. It is gentle, sensational, poetic and tender, with a video that serves as a beautiful family portrait. McCalla’s feelings on surviving motherhood are echoed throughout our conversation. “It’s absolutely non-stop learning,” smiles McCalla. Her three children have profoundly impacted her approach to life and creativity and made her more organised. “I had to become that,” she explains. “It’s made me a healthier person too thankfully. I know it’s not a monolithic experience. Not everyone has that, but it’s made me look at the unhealthy patterns and habits that stop me from feeling good or thinking clearly.”

“Motherhood takes a lot of my creative attention in a way no one tells you about.” She recalls being younger and very idealistic about what it means to have children and a family. Now, as a single mom and learning to co-parent she is navigating multiple new terrains at once. It’s taught her a lot. “It’s not an easy business but a beauty of motherhood and being a musician is that the kids are a red line for things that are just not going to work,” she says. “That line is not fixed but it is there, it is consistent. It’s a container that the children need, and what I need, with them. It’s made me have to learn how to be less reactive… You’re all they know so I wanna be good for them. I wanna figure out life for them. That means I have to be good for myself.”

Music has always been a significant part of McCalla’s life. She began playing the cello through the public school system in New York, studying under The Juilliard School’s André Emelianoff and quickly found a place where her talent was recognised. Inspired by her heritage, she delved into Haitian music, discovering its rich rhythms and melodies. “Both my parents are from Haiti and emigrated to the US in the 60s, to escape the Duvalier dictatorship,” she notes. This duality of identity has deeply influenced her music, including the exploration of Haitian folk songs and the work of Haitian classical guitarist Frantz Casseus. Her fascination with the banjo, particularly its role in Haitian music, has been a significant part of her journey. “In 2013, I went to Haiti and saw banjos everywhere. I had never seen them before, and I fell in love,” she remembers. This discovery led her to incorporate the banjo’s unique sound into her music, blending it with other traditional Haitian instruments.

Always happy to discuss the intersection of music and culture, our conversation shifts to Beyoncé’s new album, Cowboy Carter, which became a number one album on Billboard’s Top Country Albums and Folk/Americana charts, amid resistance from some in the country music industry. McCalla questions the cultural conversations it has sparked. “There are a lot of conversations to be had about why it’s so controversial,” she says. “It’s interesting how we question what Black people are doing. If it was Kelly Clarkson or Katy Perry, I’m sure the reception would be different.” She sees Beyoncé’s work as a form of performance art that challenges societal norms and provokes thought. “Who gets to define and who gets to perform; who is an insider and who is an outsider?” This political platforming has remained a major part of McCalla’s solo work. The Our Native Daughters project that she was part of – and which was conceived by Rhiannon Giddens – explored how slavery and colonialism have shaped the present-day identity of Black women. “It’s cultural work and it’s political work,” she explains.

In a similar vein, she contemplates what roles and responsibilities the diaspora can play in aiding their communities. Thinking about Haiti – she has not been back since 2017, but it is her second home – its tumultuous history and its current challenges, she speaks with both sadness and hope. “Haiti’s ability to self-determine has always been an issue,” she observes. Despite the corruption and impunity, she remains optimistic about the resilience and resourcefulness of the Haitian people. “But the mistreatment of Black people just gets shut out of the narrative. Haiti is a microcosm of what is happening across the rest of the world largely due to Western imperialism and capitalism.” “The big fallacy,” she says, “is that the Haitian people don’t want [imperialism to end], but in reality, that’s what they’ve been fighting for… The inequality, the impunity, the gang crime has to stop.” “The Haitian people want that for their culture and for their community and for their country,” she asserts, emphasising the importance of grassroots efforts in creating a more equitable society.

She mentions ‘Open the Road’ from the new album as a song that “fills her with hope and light and fun… introspection all at the same time.” This hope, and the personal growth we’ve spoken about, are clear in the way she talks about her commitment to global issues. “I think about the tragedies unfolding all over the world, in Haiti, Gaza, Sudan and Congo and it’s very heartbreaking. But I think that we stay with it, we let our hearts be broken and we have patience enough with ourselves and courage enough to try to effect change. That’s part of my motivation for making music.”

‘I am trying to be free / I’m trying to find me’ she sings on ‘Open the Road’. McCalla’s pursuits of artistic freedom and a celebration of cultural heritage have never been so clear as on her new album. It’s also never been so much fun.

Leyla McCalla plays Cambridge Folk Festival (July 27), WOMAD (July 28), Greenbelt Festival (Aug 24), Shambala (Aug 25) and London’s Moth Club (Aug 26) as well as France, Belgium, Luxembourg and the US before the end of the year

This article originally appeared in the August/September 2024 issue of Songlines. Never miss an issue – subscribe today