Music: The Cajun connection

Getting a measure of the complex, multifaceted character of Cajun musician Zachary Richard means starting with the spark that ignited a lifetime of rebellion, impassioned music and activism.

"I'm profoundly bilingual," Richard recently said by phone while taking a break at a Montreal recording studio. "By that I mean when I was growing up I was immersed in both languages constantly."

That would be French and English, in southwest Louisiana's Cajun country during the 1950s and '60s, when much of the traditional culture that Acadians had brought from the Canadian Maritime provinces two centuries earlier was being swallowed up by mainstream America.

"Cajun music at that time was really confined to the margins of society in south Louisiana," he said. But Richard's rediscovery of his musical roots, prompted by his purchase of a Cajun accordion with the advance from his first recording contract, precipitated a zigzag, four-decade, profoundly bicultural musical journey, as well as regional prominence as an ardent advocate for French North American culture, outspoken environmentalist and award-winning French-language poet.

Richard (pronounced "ree-shar" en français), who has long split his time between Montreal and Lafayette, La., has had a low profile in the States in recent years while maintaining a thriving career and recording in French in his ancestral homeland. But earlier this year he released "Last Kiss (Artist Garage)," his first English-language album in 17 years, and Sunday he'll make his first Twin Cities appearance in at least that long, playing at the Dakota Jazz Club with pianist David Torkanowsky and guitarist Shane Theriot.

"I never stopped writing in English," he explained. "I never stopped singing in English. It's just that once we had that success here [in Canada], then the projects just lined up. And finally I had the time to get around to what I was doing when all this started.

"It's really an odd career. I've never had this huge success in the United States, which would have put me on the radar in French Canada. And of course, Anglo-American culture, be it Canadian or American, is completely unaware of what happens in French Canada. So the fact that we were king of the hill for a while here had no resonance -- nobody paid any attention south of the border."

Quebec and the Cajun rebirth

Richard's biggest splash in the great white north was 1996's multi-platinum "Cap Enragé," which only enhanced his status as a household name, established during his first foray there in the mid-'70s. Quebec was then in the throes of a separatist movement, and Richard's French-language songs about the Acadian diaspora and resisting assimilation captured the public's imagination.

Back in Louisiana, the Cajun renaissance was picking up steam, in part spurred by enthusiastic young musicians such as Richard and his cousin, Michael Doucet. The pair had tried to come up with a progressive blend of Cajun and rock, inspiring a backlash among traditionalists and shrugs from everyone else. Doucet immersed himself even more in the roots and went on to form Beausoleil. Undaunted, Richard distinguished himself as a wild Cajun rocker.

"I've always been happy to piss off the purists," he gleefully reflected.

Ever the iconoclast, Richard hasn't been shy either about decrying the oil industry's role in the disappearance of Louisiana's wetlands, or protecting French roots.

"I guess I'm sort of the poster boy for French North American culture," he said. "I've been working with these communities in Manitoba and Saskatchewan and British Columbia and Louisiana and Missouri, of all places. The challenge to preserve the language and heritage is very present in all of these communities. So to speak French in North America has become for me an act of resistance, and all those themes resound in the songwriting."

They're definitely present in "Last Kiss," a relatively contemplative collection of rootsy rock ballads. Although it's more specifically influenced by blues, gospel and folk than Cajun music, south Louisiana subject matter dominates, whether an epic tale of Katrina ("The Levee Broke"), the title track's story of forbidden love, an appreciation of fais-do-dos ("Dansé") or even the concluding cover of the Band's "Acadian Driftwood," featuring an admirably restrained duet with Céline Dion, a longtime Richard acquaintance who's also of Acadian heritage.

"I don't want to confuse songwriting with politics or propaganda," Richard insisted. "But I am proud of the fact that some of my songs have social import, and I'm pleased to think that maybe some of the stuff that I write will change the way that people think, or give them some sort of encouragement in the struggle to make the world a better place."