Cesaria Evora

The islands of Cape Verde, where legendary torch singer Cesaria Evora hails from, seem to have been put on earth for the express purpose of inspiring songwriting metaphors. Geographically removed (far west off the coast of Senegal) from both Africa and Europe and known for their parched climate, the islands were colonized and inhabited by the Portuguese, with African slaves in tow, in the 15th century. The resulting Afro-European culture forged the island’s quintessential style, the morna; string instruments from Portuguese fado music dovetail with the sambas and claves that stem from West Africa. The islands have been independent since 1975 but have seen a mass exodus of their citizens, usually in search of jobs or more temperate climates. The Cape Verdean diaspora now outnumbers the native residents; consequently, Evora and others who still live there experience life filtered through a never-ending series of good-byes.

Discovered by her future manager at the age of 48 during a show in France, Evora has reached that rarefied strata of world-music superstar, her unadorned alto projecting an unusual directness. She’s now past 60, and her tenth album, Rogamar, sounds more at peace than ever with the inexorable fate of Cape Verde. On “Shadows of Destiny,” she sings, “My life is rootless…My fate is to suffer?/?In nostalgic silence.” And behind a full string section and a gentle army of acoustic guitars, the motifs of the sea and isolation are simply part of the fabric of Evora’s outlook. But the sadness, or sodade, of these minor-key revelations doesn’t feel indulgent or forced—she carries a heavy load but there is a stoicism in her voice that lets us know she doesn’t need our help to bear it.—Matthew Lurie