**Mikahely** is a musician based in Burlington, Vermont who will be performing in our upcoming Keepsake show, **Roots Less Traveled**. Tickets are on sale now! In this interview, Mikahely chats with Jay and Hailey about growing up and becoming a successful performer in Madagascar, his move to the United States, balancing music with his home life, and where exactly his music comes from.

*In this semi-weekly blog series, we post in-depth interviews that take you* ***behind closed doors*** *(or* ***#BCD****) with independent artists, many of whom have performed or will perform in a Keepsake show.*

*Editor’s Note: Mikahely’s native languages are Malagasy and French. We conducted this interview in English and transcribed it with some edits to grammar and sentence structure, while still striving to maintain the integrity and meaning of Mikahely’s words.

Hailey:

You were a renowned musician in Madagascar, where you were born and raised, before moving to the United States. Tell us about your childhood and how you got into music.

Mikahely:

My father was a teacher and my mother was a home worker, like most of the women in Madagascar. They did not really care about music. When I was little, my mother and father would sing some tunes, but they were not part of the music world. My father was a teacher of math and chemistry, so he always told me, “Don’t play music, this is bad for you, there is no future in this. You have to keep up in school.” And honestly, my family was a poor family. We had a hard time because we had a lot of kids.

When I left school, my mother knew why. She knew that I loved music, and she always supported me. When I was little, maybe around three years old, I already loved music. Around seven or eight years old, I started playing guitar by myself. My older brothers had a lot of friends who would bring over guitars, so I became very interested in the sound and wanted to touch the instruments. I would steal their guitars and play them in the corner.

Later, I met someone who owned a recording studio in town. He asked me if I wanted to make music seriously, and I said yes. He said, “Okay, come to my home and you can start learning, and I will teach you the basics of sound recording.” I started working in that studio around 16 or 17 years old, learning about recording and analog equipment.

“For me, music is not creation, it’s inspiration.”

I started recording, became a well-known artist in my town, and got to know the community of other young artists there. I started teaching all the kids how to use equipment and find the right sound. Once a week, I would have a show and all the schools would come to play live music with me. Around that time, people started to ask me if I was ready to take my career more seriously. I was scared to do that, though, because I always think that I don’t have enough experience.

In 1998, I started to record my own music and released a solo album. I put my songs in songwriting contests like Alliance Francaise Madagascar, the French cultural center of Madagascar. Then my songs were playing on the radio non-stop. Then in 2002, there were a lot of dangerous protests in Madagascar [calling for a recount of presidential election ballots that led to one candidate—Ratsiraka—fleeing to seek exile in France], which was around the same time I started my career. I went to the capital, Antananarivo, because in Madagascar everything happens there. Back in my town, I had met a lot of legendary Malagasy musicians, so those artists helped me to come up in the capital. I continued doing studio recordings there, and many, many legendary musicians came to me to record their albums.

In 2005, I formed a band. We released a few songs and the Malagasy people really loved them. I became better known as a songwriter. But I’m really shy, and I didn’t think about being famous. Even little kids would sing my songs and recognize me when I walked down the street. By 2006, I released my second album, the first album with my band. We toured through Madagascar, and then did a tour in Europe in 2007. That continued for 10-15 years. I released three albums and continued to tour with that band.

Then in 2017, I moved to the United States, so I’m here now.

Jay:

Wow, that’s such a great story, thank you.

Mikahely:

It’s a pretty story, but everyone has their own story that is beautiful.

Jay:

Yeah. We read you are a self-taught instrumentalist! Which instrument did you start on? How did you get into writing songs? Who did you grow up listening to?

Mikahely:

I’m a musician, singer, and songwriter, and I write music in the Malagasy language. Guitar is my main instrument. I play with Malagasy picking, which is very different from normal guitar picking, and I grew up with this because I was around really legendary Malagasy guitar players.

I also play valiha. It’s made of bamboo and is our national instrument. It’s kind of similar to the zither and I think there are a lot of similar instruments in Asia too. I didn’t start playing this instrument until recently, but I grew up around it. I really like the Malagasy culture and native religions. I know there are a lot of [practicing] Christians in Madagascar, but there were traditional Malagasy religions before Christianity came to Madagascar. I’m very interested in that. The valiha is used in a lot of ritual ceremonies.

Malagasy music is also very rhythmic, with tapping and clapping [during the interview, Mika demonstrated a clapping melody here]. I also learned to play the kaiamba, bamboo shakers [Mika also demonstrated these in the interview].

For me, music is not creation, it’s inspiration. All the things I have come from somewhere. I’m a second owner. Everything--the arrangement, the melody--comes from what is going on around me. And then when I play music, I can inspire too. I know [my music] comes from somewhere, and I know it often comes from the rainforest. The sound comes from the trees, through the valiha or the guitar, to me.

Hailey:

I love that. I know you’ve lived in the US since 2017 or so, first in Maine and now Burlington. What have been some of the biggest challenges since moving to the United States?

Mikahely:

At first, I was worried to move here, because I don’t have any family here. How am I going to live in a place with no family, not even friends? That was a big challenge for me.

Secondly, I didn’t know about the culture. I knew there were a lot of different cultures in America, and I knew many Americans didn’t know about my culture.

My wife [who is American] and I first visited the U.S. in 2015, because she thought I should see the country before moving here. At that time, everything was great, and I got to see some of the states. We went to New York City, Boston, Washington D.C., Virginia, Maine. And then we visited Burlington, Vermont, and it was winter at the time. It was crazy cold. That’s a big challenge for me: the weather and the cold. In Madagascar, it’s 70-80 degrees all year, so Vermont is crazy cold. How can I survive this?

Around this time, I also had a bad experience with racism. When I was in Madagascar, I thought racism was gone. But when I got to America, we took a bus from Boston to Washington, D.C. Before we had left Madagascar, my wife injured her foot, so she had a big boot and I had to help her and struggled to carry our luggage. We were getting on the bus and she showed the driver our bus ticket. Then the bus driver ignored my ticket. And at the time [I was wearing a headscarf], which I always wear for my spirit, my soul, and concentration. This is what you wear in Madagascar. So we got on the bus and the driver asked me, “where is your ticket?” I told him my wife had shown him my ticket and he said, “No! You don’t have a ticket. You get off the bus.” And I said, “No!”

“Different colors make art, art from the creator. I don’t have any problem with that, and I don’t think about people differently. That doesn’t exist to me. I know you are human, you have blood and a beating heart.”

At that time, I didn’t really speak much English. I only knew a few words, but I knew [the driver was wrong]. I didn’t think it was about racism, so I just said, “No! I have a ticket! Why do you want me to get off the bus? I’m not going to leave!” And then he said he was going to call the police. I started to freak out a little, but I refused to move. My stuff was there, and my wife was already on the bus. She didn’t even hear what was going on, because she was already finding seats for us. Nobody helped me or said anything.

So the bus driver got off the bus and said he would call the police. My wife was wondering [where I was] so she came back for me. She said, “Why are you yelling at him? He’s a visitor, he hasn’t done anything wrong! He doesn’t even speak your language.” The bus driver stopped and let me on the bus but he did not apologize to us.

That was my first experience with racism here. I knew then that something was going on, that he didn’t trust me because of the color of my skin. So that is a challenge and a big change for me.

Hailey:

Thank you for sharing that story.

Mikahely:

I think racism will disappear soon, that’s the hope. That should be our goal. We are artists. Our goal should be to make sure that race doesn’t impact our community and our lives. I was lucky. I didn’t get shot, and that could have happened! The police could have come and shot me on that bus.

I have done some interviews about racism in Burlington, and in one of them I said, “The skin color is our richness as humans.” Our beauty--you see the three of us [he motioned here to himself, Jay, and Hailey], all different colors, that is very beautiful. If we put our three hands together, it would be so beautiful, like a painting. Different colors make art, art from the creator. I don’t have any problem with that, and I don’t think about people differently. That doesn’t exist to me. I know you are human, you have blood and a beating heart.

Jay:

How did you learn to navigate the American music industry and process? Do you work with any type of management or booking team?

Mikahely:

Like I said, everything is a challenge for me, and I didn’t have anyone helping me. I didn’t have any friends here, and I had no idea about the music business in the United States. It’s one of the biggest and most complicated industries here with a lot of artists, so I did wonder how I would find my way. I’m like a little flower trying to grow around all this tall grass. I’m just the one flower, but I can still grow. That’s how I tried to think positively.

When I was in Maine, I didn’t do anything. I thought I didn’t want to do my music anymore because it was too complicated. When I moved to Vermont, my wife helped me a little bit. She sent emails to music venues and festivals for me, but nobody responded. Even though I had a good bio with a lot of success from Madagascar, the music industry in Madagascar is very insulated and concentrated, because the politics are bad. The music industry is related to politics, and if politics are bad, music and culture [cannot grow]. And nobody knew me here!

But there is a music venue in downtown Burlington called The Light Club Lamp Shop which said they had a spot for me to play. And I thought that was really great, because I knew my music is my legacy. If I don’t play music, if I don’t sing, I’ll never be anything. Music is my home. I never worked for anything else other than music. That’s why I learned about the Malagasy music business, but here I had to restart.

“I’m a messenger [...] We are the artists who represent the ancestors and report to our community.”

I was really happy about The Lamp Shop gig. I started playing there and a few people came to the show. They were really happy, even though I was singing in the Malagasy language! They thought it was so interesting and different. And next to The Lamp Shop, there is another [partner] music venue called Radio Bean. They invited me to play there a few weeks later, and the people from my last show came, plus some different people. Suddenly the Vermont audience was interested in my work! That made me feel positive.

I’m a messenger. Music comes from our ancestors. The ancestor wants to tell us something, maybe there’s something wrong in your life or something needs help. That’s why musicians like me exist. We are the artists who represent the ancestors and report to our community. That’s my goal. If there are open doors for me to play, to do my mission, that’s great.

Then Vermont Public Radio (VPR) came to my show to do an interview. After that interview, all the music venues called me! They all asked me to come play, even though before that they had no idea who I was. And I’m really thankful for having an audience that gets something from my music.

Jay:

We read your feature on VPR and you gave such a beautiful quote: “Sometimes when I play, I don’t know what I’m going to play, but my finger is gone, and I think it's connected to my heart.” Can you tell us more about what you mean by that?

Mikahely:

I’m not a perfect artist, but I think that doesn’t exist. I’m not even a great artist, but I think I’m a messenger, and I have a goal. I have to do this. We have to share, because those things--from our spirit, from our ancestors--are connected to our heart. That’s why, sometimes when I play music, I can’t play. My finger is stuck, or my arm is shaking, because I’m still human. But when the spirit comes, I become a better player. Everything goes smoothly and I connect to the audience.

Hailey:

It sounds like you play very organically. Like a good jazz musician, you can play anything, anytime, anywhere, without following pre-written music. Because of this, do you find it difficult to write and record music?

Mikahely:

The recording process is very hard. It’s the hardest part of making music. When I record a song, it is kind of live. I play from the beginning to the end. Nothing is copied. I know the digital world has a lot of tricks. I did a lot of teaching and demonstrations of digital music in the 1990s: using pre-recorded vocals, cutting, all that. But when I record, it’s “one, two three, play!”

My music, I’m still learning it. Even though I don’t have much time to practice, I’m still learning everyday. And that’s the art. So when I’m recording, I like to play live, non-stop. I know there are tricks for that, but I don’t want to use them. This is organic music. Why? Because what I play today versus tomorrow is different. My environment is different, the temperature is different, so that affects everything and my music will be different.

I recorded in Madagascar a lot, but here, I mostly play. Sometimes I play until 5:00am, because the only time I can play is in the night. Other than that, I have to take care of my family and work. And my work requires a lot of heavy lifting and is very dangerous. Recently, I injured my left hand at work, and it still hurts. I have a hard time playing now, and I have to practice to make it better. I’m trying to do the best, to play as much as I can and improve my talent.

So when you talk about recording, I’m an auto-producer now. Everything I play is always my product. I don’t want to sign with anybody. I just want to play for my community. So even though I would like to work with a production company one day, I know the music industry has changed a lot, and now it’s possible to do it yourself. Everyone can record their own music. But of course, you want to give your audience good quality.

Hailey:

Yeah, I think every independent musician struggles with that in different ways, because like you said, the industry is changing so quickly. And not being familiar with America and the English language would make it even harder.

But I’m curious to know what your day job is? You mentioned it required heavy lifting?

Mikahely:

I work at school, feeding the kids, because that’s my choice. I wanted to work around kids because I had a hard time growing up. If I’m going to give my energy to something, I want to give it to kids. And I didn’t have good grades, I didn’t do well in school. Here, everything needs a good grade, you have to have good grades to get a good job. But I got this job in the food service, and I’m happy!

The lockdown [for the COVID-19 pandemic] only closed schools for about two months, so it feels really important to work at schools. I want to protect those kids and keep them healthy. I do the best I can, but it’s a lot of work, and a lot of risk. During the pandemic, I touched everything, and I worked close to this virus all the time. It was a big risk for me and my family. When I got home I would have to take off my clothes and leave them by the washer, then take a shower and wear a mask even at home. One year I did that, wearing a mask all day for a whole year! And it’s a lot of heavy lifting. I have to lift big crates full of milk and take them into a cold freezer, and I’m always worried about whether it will be enough to support my family. But I have to keep going. I never give up.

I would like to work full-time in music. That’s my thing! But so far, that hasn’t been possible. I have to keep working at the school. And sometimes I’m really disappointed, exhausted, upset. If I feel like that, I know I just have to play music, to heal my body and to heal myself.

Jay:

At Keepsake House, we talk a lot about the magic in live shows and the communities they help create, almost like every live performance is itself a keepsake that you cherish from a whole house of life experiences. Tell us about your most memorable or fulfilling live performance, the one you would grab first in a fire.

Mikahely:

All the concerts I’ve played are the best ones. Every concert is a chance to share, and that time is always special for me. There is always someone who thanks you for your performance. Even one, two, or three people said thank you, that’s enough. That’s special. That means they got something from you, and you got something from them too.

Follow Mikahely:

Behind Closed Doors with Mikahely

Behind Closed Doors with Sabrina Comellas

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