In Conversation With: Rika Mpogazi aka La Sappe

Toronto-based DJ Rika Mpogazi talks about how her heritage influences her craft, her experiences overseas, her creative process and her inspirations. Check out her PITCH Magazine Issue Four Mix here.

Photo by Rahel Elias

Photographers: Rahel Elias + Kaz Marcano

Interview: Angelo Grant

Transcription: Malaika Manda + Koko Sanginga

Angelo: Would you like to introduce yourself?

Rika: Sure. My name is Rika. I go by La Sappe from “Sapologie” which is the art of dressing elegantly and being “sapé” in DR Congo. I’m half-Congolese and half-Rwandan from my parents; my mom’s from Rwanda and my dad’s from Congo. French is my first language so there is that francophone diasporic influence in everything as well.

I am an event coordinator and DJ. I work in development, if I can say that, but mostly in the realm of Arts and Culture so I juggle many different endeavours. I currently work for TIFF (‘Toronto International Film Festival’). I like to make or contribute to work that continues something that holds a legacy, I feel like, in anything: in music, in writing, and dance even, different mediums. Because I feel like there’s a lineage and I’m just a link in a long chain.

A: That’s awesome. So, you talked a bit about your heritage. How does that influence your art and your DJing?

R: I think there’s contrasting cultures within my ‘culture’. Because I think it’s like an amalgamation: a few parts of Rwanda, a few parts of Congo; not the whole thing though. I feel like my parents’ family had a tumultuous past. There was a lot of back and forth between Congo and Rwanda just because of displacement, etcetera. I think what I can say is that the region itself is near the lake called Kivu, so it's at the border of Congo and Rwanda. They speak Swahili. They're a bit calmer, maybe more laidback in their demeanour, I’d say, compared to other parts of Congo. Rwandan people in general are calm as well, but they’re very prideful. And I think I carry myself in that way, in those contrasting ways. 

So my music translates to that. Well my music actually is more Congolese I would say, influence-wise, because they’re more prominent in the scene, and even internationally, in the 60’s/70’s they were topping the charts because they have sonic influences to, say, Cuban rumba or Puerto Rican salsa at the time when it was really developing. In fact, there’s this group called Fania All-Stars and they went to Congo in the 70’s during Rumble in the Jungle, the epic boxing match between Mohammed Ali and George Foreman, and it was a crazy exciting time for music as well.

That is what I’d call the Golden Age of music, at least in the region. I am in love with that era, from a solely musical perspective. So, a lot of my sets and mixes sound like there’s a bit of rumba in it, but then you realise that the percussion is very Bantu. I like Cape Verdean artists like Cesária Évora, rest in peace, and Mayra Andrade. I like Angolan music too which is very upbeat, i.e. batida, and it can also be very sensual, like a kizomba sway.

The Rwandan side is a bit more ethereal, I would say. The East African side is a bit more contemplative, more demure, seems calm but under that quietude is a medley of boiling emotions. So that’s my music taste. That’s my vibe.

A: That’s so cool. I like how you bring yourself into your craft. And I know about Fania All-Stars. Yeah, I have one of their records, I don’t think it’s from the 70’s though.

R: Yeah, they were big. I feel like they had all of the top dogs of that era because there were some that were more based in the [United] States and some that were more based in the islands. Héctor Lavoe, La Lupe, Cheo Feliciano, Celia Cruz, so it just felt like a touring, ever-evolving troupe of musicians. That era, I feel like it was different. People thought in collectives. Even down to the music, people were just down to be part of a band. It wasn’t as individualistic as it is now; rarely do three people in a band stay within 5 years because they’re like “uh, my own creative process” you know? So, yeah, it was cool.

A: So, how do you find different sounds, different types of music to listen to? 

R: I feel like I just listen to my surroundings and keep an open mind. I like travelling. I like experiencing the sound because I attach an emotion or a memory to it so then it feels even better. So I like going to local events in Toronto. I don’t think people understand that we have so many different sounds. I compare it to even Paris or London,, where it’s like the hub of diasporic sounds. Toronto is so rich in, not ‘diversity’ as a surface term, but the identity of the city itself is made up of various cultures. That’s what makes it Toronto. So the sound reflects that. So you go out and you see it’s very easy to find different music around and you’re just always interacting with it. 

I feel like since I was young- I literally got a job at H&M on Queen St W. but I lived and went to school in North York. I could have gotten a job closer to home, it’s not like there’s not an H&M in North York. But I just needed to be in the heart, in the centre, I would trek an hour downtown every other day just feeling like “I want to be here.” Now, it feels even better to have a personal connection to it. Before it was like “I’m excited to go downtown!” Now, I’m participating in it. That’s what I mean about being part of a collective. I feel like there’s an ecosystem and I’m just like a little frog enjoying my pad in the pond. 

A: That’s cool. So, what are some of the collectives that you’re a part of? 

R: I feel like the platforms and collectives I’ve worked with, Sample Chief is a big one, we hosted some great socials and trivia nights. There’s Kuruza: I DJed at one of their events during Halloween at the Drake Hotel, and eventually got to return the favour when I co-hosted an event called ‘Where People Stay At’, which featured one of the collective’s DJs as a guest. I’ve worked with Afrique Like Me, Noha Collective, Sagacité and a bunch of other community-focused Afro-centric events in Toronto and Montreal pushing the boundaries of African music culture. 

Photo by Rahel Elias

There’ve been a few Boiler Rooms in Toronto, and it felt like the Olympics of Djing. You had your- you know during a carnival, and there’s these floats? And there’s a bunch of people behind it? That’s what it felt like; every DJ that came on, it was their people, their homies were in the back, their friends and chosen family. And yeah, that’s what I mean by just experiencing the sound. 

A: That’s awesome. I need to make my way into some of those spaces. I see a lot of videos and stuff and I need to find the time. But how does it feel to, I guess, find people that are kind of doing the same thing? To be a part of those collectives? 

R: Honestly, I don’t know how it happened but it was so organic. Because I feel like everyone, especially I’d say in the past two years, was reconstructing their social circles. So they were reaching out to people who were like-minded, or at least had similar experiences or backgrounds that they could relate to. I knew one of the DJs from the collectives, from just going to the events. So one time they were throwing an event, so I went on my ones. I think it was like July, summer of 2021, so it was post-Covid era. Because Covid was, for DJing, the thought was “Where are they going to be? Online?” They did have that but it's about the personal, again, live connection. 

So, after that, everyone was just ready to go out. I feel like that era, especially for the young, African Diaspora, the youth, it was like “Okay, we’re trying to connect. We’ve been starved of just touching our land so now we need to recreate it in a way that makes sense to us.” Because there’s one thing about being from the diaspora, or even like not being there all the time or even just being born there, like you relate to it differently. I was watching something, it was an interview. You know ‘Library of Infinities’? So they had an IG live interview with a DJ named Glowzi, she’s based in Montreal. She’s super talented. She was saying that there’s this thing called ‘cultural dislocation’ and that’s when you experience the experiences of the people from where you’re from but without being physically there. So you feel dislocated, like you’re not where you’re supposed to be. That’s what it feels like, and we were trying to fill that hole by emulating what we saw of the people there or what we try to recreate in our living rooms. 

A: That’s awesome. I love that. I definitely feel that, being an immigrant and having parents who grew up elsewhere. You really want to connect to your heritage and you feel like you’re supposed to be somewhere else or like you’re in between identities sometimes. But I think that’s super important that you guys are creating spaces where it's, you know, for us in the African diaspora. I think that’s similar to why I started PITCH Magazine. 

If we could rewind a bit. I wanted to ask how you started DJing? 

R: How I started? I don’t even know how I started. There wasn’t a day where I was like “Today, I’m a DJ!” I still very much hesitate to claim the title because I’m still in the learning process,. I mean, I don’t know, I’ve met so many talented DJs so I know I have so much to learn but I’m getting more and more comfortable. Honestly, I just feel grateful to be in that environment and for them to regard me in that capacity and what not. 

But your question was how did I start? [laughs] So, I wanted to make a mix. It was pre-Covid. I think I proper sat down and was like “I’m going to make three mixes and each one of them is going to have a message.” So, I made these three mixes and it was on Virtual DJ, it was the most elementary software. I was like “I’m going to make a mix,” It was called - under the platform I made - it was called Intersection. I wanted it to be based on intersectionality. Intersectionality was the purpose, having multiple identities, etcetera etcetera, but I think the IG name was taken so I did intere - (with the e) section. I got my friends to come in and weigh in on the mixes. It was the first time I made them, I think it was early 2020, I guess like very recently. So, I made those mixes and then I started working with Sample Chief. Sample Chief really exposed me to platforms that were doing what I was trying to do in my bedroom in 2020 during Covid lockdowns. And I was like “Oh people actually do this for real for real.” And then I went to Paris, I was just visiting family. While I was there I stopped by a radio station and I did my thing. 

That’s what I mean, I feel like my first gigs are what people should be doing like years into their career. That was my exposure. I remember going in there and my USB or something didn’t work. And my USB, I don’t even know, it’s happened at least two or three times even at one of the events, my USB wasn’t working so I had to use another person’s USB. And then I played, I was spinning and everyone loved it. My friend was even like “Yo, I couldn’t even get in the room! It was packed. You did that!” And I felt like “Okay, maybe I’m valid. Maybe this is actually a thing.” This was very recently as well. And I was telling my friend this later - because he was helping me because he was seeing the panic in my face when the music stopped, so he was helping me out, the next day he was like “You pulled through. It was great. Your USB worked out,” and I was like “That wasn’t even my music. That was somebody else’s music that I was trying to mix.” 

“I think intuitively I know about queuing, I know about gauging the crowd. Just as an audience member for so long myself, I think I understand that perspective of what people are looking for when they’re going out or when they’re listening to music.”

So, I think intuitively I know about queuing, I know about gauging the crowd. Just as an audience member for so long myself, I think I understand that perspective of what people are looking for when they’re going out or when they’re listening to music. I go to parties or events just for the music. I remember one DJ, I was closing my eyes and dancing, and she’s a pretty respected DJ; she walked up to me and she was like “Wow, you’re just here for the music” and I was like “Deadass!” You know, some people go out and it's to meet people, which isn’t bad or anything, it's just that for me that’s secondary. I’m there because I want to experience the music. It feels like a concert. To me, going to see a DJ, when I saw Kaytranada this summer 2022, I was like “This feels like a concert to me. This is one of my musical idols.” You know? I went to a Moonshine event in Montreal, great collective, and it felt like the Olympics, again, of DJing. Because I think producers and DJs and beat makers, they understand emotion and sound. They engineer sound. So, being surrounded by the source was, I don’t know, it was nice. 

How did I get started? I just started. Yeah, I just started and then I kept doing it.

A: That’s wild. That’s so recent, I wasn’t expecting that. 

R: Yeah, same. Honestly, I didn’t expect to be doing it. Also, when I was in Rwanda, I was DJing there too. I had gone to Paris for about 2 weeks and then I went to Rwanda. I didn’t have a return ticket, I just went. I got a house and my cousin pulled through because I was like “I can’t just be in a 7 bedroom home, just alone.” And then everyday we just went out. He was like my manager, so we would just go to different establishments: cafes, venues, clubs, bars. And I was like “Hey, I DJ. Do you guys have a spot?” and some people were there for it. This one time, this system - it was kind of janky - and the person that was a regular, he had a residency, he was in the back and he was giving me a tutorial on how to make it work. It was nice because people trusted me or people, at least, were curious and open to letting me just try. 

And that’s not to say - I studied development so I understand, like, not abusing certain privileges especially in terms of opportunities. I don’t want to go to Rwanda and take my perceived privilege that’s like “oh you’re from Canada, you’re obviously talented.” I did try to be humble about it and just like “I’m here just to see what's up. What’s the scene looking like?” and maybe add my little twist to it, do my thing. Because that’s another thing about the diaspora: you go to the place that you’ve identified with your whole life - and it wasn’t even my first time in Rwanda, I’ve gone every summer since, I think, 2016 - but obviously you’re not there, so you're kind of like a guest. Especially because I don’t speak the language. Sometimes I go to family events and I’m not fully understanding what’s happening. I engage with emotions and reactions but I’m not understanding it to the fullest. 

Photo by Rahel Elias

A: What did you learn when you had these experiences, when you went to Paris and Rwanda? 

R: It was nice to see just other ways that people go out. I think when you go to a place where things open later, for example, then things start later so there’s a different type of culture: even like late night foods for example. Some things are acceptable and some things are not depending on where you are. For example, in Rwanda, yes, gender equality is a thing and, if anything, on the continent I would say it's one of the top in terms of parity and representation in government, etc. But there is still a double standard. Women aren’t expected to be out because it's seen as promiscuous. You’re obviously either an escort or - well, I mean no. That’s an exaggeration - women go out, of course, and especially during the holidays. I’m saying that the way that you carry yourself is judged or what you say and how you say it is judged. So, I was being careful about that but I’m also a Canadian so I have that limit. I just want to say and do and move the way I want. There’s a balance; you have to be respectful of where you are and also be true to yourself. 

Every city has its own identity and culture. Paris is very posh. Even the urban culture is kind of clean and very sleek, I would say. Obviously, there’s different subgenres but at least where my cousins stay at it was very sleek. And my cousins worked at places like Nike in Amsterdam, they’re very like streetwear, urban culture but, like, make it look nice. It was interesting to see how people go out there and go out in Rwanda. And since it's so close to Kenya and Uganda, et cetera, you go to a bar and you’re meeting, like, a Kenyan DJ. Especially in December, a lot of people go back to their home countries. Same with Nigeria, I’d assume. Nigeria has like “Detty December” and it’s like a pilgrimage, everyone’s just going back home. So, that obviously changes things. Also, things are more strict. 

But Toronto, in particular, is open if you’re in the right spots. I won’t say a blanket statement, it’s to a certain degree. Sometimes I have felt like I don’t want to be constantly in the scene or, you know, just out in the streets. Especially recently, I kind of took a break from going out; just to hibernate a bit but I’m excited to come back. 2023, new year, renewed me.

A: When you’re DJing, how do you come up with a set or the next song to put on?

R: It depends. I did this one mix with this label in Paris called Paprika Records. Actually, they asked me to produce a song, they're making a compilation and they were like “if you want to contribute…” So I was like “say less,” so I’m going to start making beats soon. So, with that mix I really wanted it to be “Bantu Beats.” That’s what I entitled it. It was a lot of percussion - that’s usually what I start with. My mixes are a reflection of my mood. For certain sounds that are more emotive, or more upbeat, more aggressive, more, like, the grind- I feel like batida or amapiano are like that. When I really want to get work done, I listen to amapiano, gqom, dance music or Afro-house; I’m determined, I’m like a soldier. Some beats are more eerie and scary. I don’t know, it depends. For that beat it was Bantu beats so percussion is the vibe. There’s kind of a thread throughout the mix and there’s just different tempos but also there’s my own influence. Like I said, Congo, Rwanda, French rappers/singers, even Latin American - I really like Brazilian funk of the 70’s Jorge Ben Jor, Caetano Veloso, or bossa nova so Antonio Jobim, - so those sounds. But, I guess the influence is always me because whenever I’m making a beat it’s on behalf of myself. 

A: So when you make those mixes, are there certain things you want people to feel? 

R: Yeah, I want them to feel how I’m feeling. For example, the mix that I’m making, I’m feeling very comfortable with love, in all its forms. Recently, I’ve been trying to reach out to my family a bit more. I tend to be kind of rigid around my family sometimes. Just because, as the eldest daughter, I sometimes feel like you are expected to just do the work, deliver results. You need to bring in the successes and the rest can enjoy [laughs]. My siblings have the luxury of just existing. I, sometimes, feel the pressure of having to achieve things. I think that’s why I always have something extra; not just working, not just studying but something more to show for. “I normally do this but I can do that too.” I don’t know, maybe I should look into that. I’m going into therapy soon so I’ll talk to my therapist about that too [laughs].

Recently I’ve just been more open. Opening my arms to loving everyone around me; my friends, my family. But also concentrating it because I tend to be very friendly to everyone and sometimes that can be emotionally draining. Especially when you try to give too much to everyone that you meet. So now I’m concentrating my efforts on the ones that are closest to me. I just want to do well by them and that’s translating into my music. That’s the state of mind I’m in right now so my music will reflect that. It will show slow, gradual pauses sometimes, but very emotional but also percussion; always keeping the pace. 

A: Always keeping the pace, I like that. I’m so excited to hear it. Another question I wanted to ask you is: who or what inspires you? 

“… just because I love who I am and where I come from doesn’t mean that it’s an offence to somebody else. I think, when you show people how much you love you… people admire that and then they have empathy.”

R: That’s a really good question. It really depends on the time that you’re asking. I feel like a few years ago, musically, at least, I was inspired by artists like Solange, Blood Orange. I think at the time I was coming into a self-realisation of my Blackness. I realised that it was like I knew I was Black but in a suburban kind of way. Well, not really suburban. Where I grew up, where I went to school was very multicultural but it wasn’t that you were Black that made you distinct, you were distinct because of where you were from, because I went to a French school, it was a public school, so everyone was some sort of shade of something. It wasn’t like “we’re Black.” It wasn’t obvious until later. I would go to the [United] States for example and I started noticing different ways that Black people around the world moved. There was more of a consciousness of Blackness in the States. I recently went to see my uncle and my aunts and it was like “oh okay.” I started listening to rap, I think it was Kendrick. There was this one song [sings a bit of “Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst” by Kendrick Lamar.”] I sometimes go back to that song. Yeah, so artists like that. 

I think it was like 2016, it was like the peak/start of BLM. Solange came out and she was kind of a calming force despite the chaos but she was encapsulating what was going on in those lyrics. She had, like, Lil Wayne come on and talk about suicide attempts, et cetera. It was kinda like “We can sit down and contemplate and it’s also a form of activism in a way.” I think that’s my form of activism. I’ve always been part of collectives, like in university and even before that.

Listen to Rika’s PITCH Magazine Issue Four Mix at https://soundcloud.com/pitch-magazine. Photo by Kaz Marcano

As much as I’m like “the oppressor doesn’t deserve sympathy,” they’re still human so you need to make people understand things the way that you would like to be understood. You just have to treat people as humans. You know how there’s that line in Solange’s album where her mom goes “Just because I’m pro-black doesn’t mean I’m anti-white”, so just because I love who I am and where I come from doesn’t mean that it’s an offence to somebody else. I think, when you show people how much you love you - I think that’s why I love discovering where I’m from and people around me - because people admire that and then they have empathy. Then they see you as human and as relatable. Do you know that thing where people are like “the more specific you are, the more relatable?” Something like that. The more you get closer and specific, the more people relate. 

Yeah, you just have to move with empathy.

A: I like that idea of being very intentional. Reflecting on who you are and how you want to express yourself; things like your Blackness and your heritage.

It's been inspiring to hear how quickly you learn things and how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time. 

R: I try. I’m still learning.

A: Yeah, always lots to learn, no matter what. I guess in that same vein, what are your next steps? Just in general or some things you're working on. 

R: I want to work more on the TIFF side actually. More in like the Arts and Culture, and developing within a large-scale organisation. Because it’s cool being a DJ and being in the scene, but really working to build an event, on a large scale, that’s really what I’ve always been passionate about. So, I’m leaning into that. 

To quote one of my recent favourite tracks, ‘Maitama’ by this Nigerian artist named Teni: “I don’t know where I’m going but all I know is I’m going somewhere, I’m going somewhere…” I’ll be DJing, hosting events and just continuing to be a generally well-rounded, humble human being.

Listen to Rika’s PITCH Magazine Issue Four Mix at https://soundcloud.com/pitch-magazine

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