The Eternal and the Ephemeral
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Le Chant du Monde — Harmonia Mundi
Published: 2022
The 15th recording in the Le Chant du Monde collection evokes a central theme in the soul’s spiritual journey—the precariousness of this world and the perenniality of the next. From one musical piece to the next, Ostad Elahi reminds us that everything in this world is perishable and that eternal bliss is found only in proximity to the Creator.
The Eternal and the Ephemeral
| Track 1 – Bâbâ Sarhangi and Bâbâ Nâ’usi Suite | 13’25 |
| Track 2 – Suite of Zekrs | 7’16 |
| Track 3 – Supplication in the Bâbâ Jalili | 4’13 |
| Track 4 – Gereyli | 2’30 |
| Track 5 – Supplication in the Bâbâ Faqi Suite | 6’57 |
| Track 6 – Hymn | 3’01 |
| Track 7 – Hal Parka | 9’06 |
Since the release of the first recordings on the centenary of his birth in 1995,1 Ostad Elahi’s music has been the subject of numerous studies, publications, and events. Following the conclusion of The Sacred Lute: The Art of Ostad Elahi exhibition at The Metropolitan Museum of Art in 2015,2 one of Ostad’s tanburs has been featured there in a showcase named “Famous Musicians” of the 20th century. More recently, the museum expanded its collection by adding four additional instruments once owned by Ostad: a choghur (Turkish lute), a setar (Persian classical music lute), a Kurdish daf (a kind of tambourine), and a singular five-stringed tanbur. These instruments are on display in the vicinity of other world heritage musical treasures at the Met. To mark the addition of these instruments, two new remastered recordings—My Beginning and My End and Resilience—were released as a commemorative box set entitled The Musical Legacy of Ostad Elahi at the Met.
Ostad Elahi began playing the tanbur at an early age, and it would remain a lifelong practice and companion: “There are two things on which my time was well-spent: the tanbur and spiritual practice.”3 The essential thing about the tanbur, he would say, is to hear its celestial resonances, for “music should be considered as a means for establishing a spiritual connection, not as a goal in itself.”4 Indeed, in addition to its remarkable aesthetic and artistic qualities, Ostad Elahi’s music is above all a means to directly connect one’s attention to the Creator and to animate and encourage the soul along its spiritual journey.
The present recording evokes an important theme of this journey: the precariousness of this world and the perenniality of the next: “We can only consider ourselves blissful if our bliss is imperishable; perishable bliss is of no value.”5 From one musical piece to the next, Ostad Elahi reminds us that everything in this world is indeed perishable and that eternal bliss is found only in proximity to the Creator, the One. As he would say, “Our life in this world is akin to a single night spent in a lavish manor or a meager inn . . . in either case we are merely overnight guests who will spend the rest of our lives in another abode that we would do well to prepare for now.”6
Most of the pieces on this CD were recorded in the 1970s in an informal manner within his family home, at times unbeknownst to Ostad himself.
1. This centenary, commemorated at several universities in Europe and the United States, included a three-day symposium at the Sorbonne and a one-and-a-half-month exhibition on the life and work of Ostad Elahi at the Chapelle de la Sorbonne.
2. Many of Ostad Elahi’s instruments and personal effects were on display, including a selection of objects and manuscripts that conveyed the sense of discipline that marked every aspect of his life. For more information on the exhibition, see https://www.metmuseum.org/exhibitions/listings/2014/sacred-lute
3. https://ostadelahi.com/music
4. Id.
5. Ostad Elahi, Maximes de guidance: Principes de sagesse universelle (Paris: Pocket, 2015), saying 180.
6. Ostad Elahi, Paroles de Vérité (Paris: Albin Michel, 2014), saying 2.
The uniqueness of this piece lies in the fact that the entire session, from the moment the instrument is taken in hand and tuned to the concluding words that are uttered, has been recorded. The atmosphere is intimate, with only a few close acquaintances and relatives in attendance. The tuning of the tanbur can be heard, mixed with ambient noise, before the transition to playing begins with a sweet melody. The repetition of the same note that follows the first melodic phrases creates a kind of weightlessness. The playing gradually intensifies, as one can hear various melodies enriched with ornaments. The mood suddenly shifts to a joyful melody that invites a dance, as the melody alternates from one chord to another. Prompted by Ostad, a daf (frame drum) joins in; despite its overpowering presence and the rudimentary recording equipment,9 the sound of the tanbur can still be heard. Ostad Elahi was seldom accompanied by the daf—this accompaniment marks one of only two known instances to have been recorded.10
After concluding the sequence with the words “Hu aval-o âkharam Yâr, Yâ Ali”11 (You are my beginning and my end, O Ali), Ostad Elahi takes the daf and, exceptionally, plays a few beats, providing an example of the balance and solemnity with which he played this instrument.
7. A mystical tradition of Western Iran.
8. Ostad Elahi would often utter this phrase, which comes from Majmâ ol-Kalâm, a manuscript of the kalâms of the Ahl-e Haqq tradition. Based on his in-depth knowledge of his native tradition, Ostad Elahi gathered together and rectified these kalâms, removing in the process any nonauthentic extraneous additions.
9. A single analog, non-directional microphone.
10. In all of Ostad Elahi’s recordings published to date, the daf can be heard only once: on Destinations (Paris: Le Chant du Monde, 2008), vol. 1, track 3.
11. Invoking Ali, a great saint in the Shiite tradition and son-in-law of the Prophet Muhammad, is a way of invoking the divinity.
The three zekrs12 in this suite are addressed to Soltan;13 the first and third were composed by Ostad, while the second was composed by his father Hadj Nemat.14
The first zekr is characterized by a recurring chord that concludes each phrase of the chant. An astute listener will hear a number of improvised movements of rhythm, creating the impression of multiple instruments being played at the same time.
Soltân Sahâki Ali giân
Shây taniâ taki Ali giân
O Ali, my Beloved, you are Soltân Sahâk, the Lord
O Ali, my Beloved, you are the unique and peerless King
The second and third zekrs are quite close from a melodic standpoint and are especially rhythmic. Behind the simple chant lies a highly dense melody with a multitude of subtle variations and ornaments.
Soltân-e mardân ya Ali
Shafâi kol dardân yâ Ali
You are the Sovereign of all beings, O Ali
You are the remedy for all ills, O Ali
Soltân sar jam Hû Hû
Zât-esh hâ va jam Hû Hû
Soltan, He presides over the gathering, Hû Hû
His essence is present in this gathering, Hû Hû
As is often the case, this series of zekrs ends with “Hû aval-o âkharam Yâr” (He! [You] are my beginning and my end).
12. A zekr is a sacred hymn in which participants repeat the refrains in chorus.
13. Soltân Sahâk (or Es’hâq) was a great theophany of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries and is considered the founder of the Ahl-e Haqq order, the mystical tradition in which Ostad Elahi was raised. Addressing Soltân is also a way of invoking the Divinity, as is invoking Hû, which refers to both the personal pronoun “He” and the “Breath.”
14. A writer and mystical poet in the Kurdish and Persian languages, Hadj Nemat is regarded as a great saint of the Ahl-e Haqq tradition.
This supplication alternates between high and low tones, with restrained and more intense melodies—such as a shor phrase15 (2’11)—rising up and immediately subsiding. Ostad uses different playing techniques from the tanbur and the setar16 to produce successive waves of notes that unfold in a permanent drone on the low note.
15. A kind of roll produced by the right hand.
16. The Persian setar is a classical instrument belonging to the family of long-neck lutes. It initially had three strings, but it is said that a fourth string was added in the eighteenth century by Moshtâq ‘Ali Shâh, an ecstatic mystic and legendary musician who was a setar master. The right-hand playing technique involves only the index finger, which plucks the strings in a back and forth movement, whereas Ostad’s technique on the tanbur uses all five fingers of the right hand.
This piece is played on the choghur,17 the traditional instrument of the Azerbaijani bards. This rare choghur was built in Hamadan, though it resembles the shape of instruments from Urmia, with two rows of three and four strings. Dating from the 19th century, it features a carvel-built body with mulberry ribs and soundboard and a hollow ornate neck, attesting to its authenticity. The name “Seyyed Ali” has been carved on its soundboard.
Gereyli is part of what Ostad Elahi called the “Turkish suites,” or, more precisely, the main “royal suites.” The denomination of these pieces, which capture the intensity of one’s relationship with the Beloved, refers to the time of the first Safavid Persian kings (from 1501), who were Turkish-speaking.
The melody here is joyful, and the configuration of the instrument with its many strings offers a wide spectrum of harmonic resonances. Ostad plays this instrument in his own unique way, using a cherry-wood plectrum between his thumb and index finger, as is customary, while keeping the other three fingers free to produce rolls (shor) that he would combine with the plectrum strokes.
The day this piece was recorded on tape, Ostad Elahi played several of his instruments and, to the surprise of those in attendance, picked up the choghur and demonstrated considerable mastery of the instrument. In fact, Ostad Elahi had learned to play the choghur during his youth and was intimately familiar with its repertoire. In addition, he had innovated its playing technique, notably by introducing the shor (roll). He played the choghur less frequently over time and stopped playing it altogether during the latter years of his life, which imparts this singular moment with even greater value. Subsequently, he recorded the entire Turkish suites—some twenty pieces—in a single session. The only other recording of Ostad Elahi playing the choghur was released as part of the eponymous double CD-Book commemorating The Sacred Lute: The Art of Ostad Elahi exhibition (Paris: Le Chant du Monde/The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2014), Shekaste, CD 2, track 7).
17. This instrument, along with several others that belonged to Ostad Elahi, is featured in a dedicated showcase within the musical instrument galleries of The Met.
The story of Bâbâ Fâqi is well-known in the Ahl-e Haqq tradition. A version of this story appears in The Book of the Kings of Truth,18 the spiritual epic composed by Hadj Nemat. The story is set in the time of Shâh Khoshin, a 10th century mystic considered to be a theophanic figure by the Ahl-e Haqq. It recounts how a magnanimous glance from a man of God led Bâbâ Fâqi, a rebellious and arrogant individual, to completely transform his nature and become devoted to spirituality: “[H]earing these words, the eyes of Bâbâ Fâqi’s soul were opened and he saw himself for what he was. He threw himself at Shâh Khoshin’s feet, imploring forgiveness from the merciful God: ‘In the proximity of Your presence, I ask that You absolve me of my faults! Blind and ignorant, I did not know You, You who are goodness! Now I attest that from the beginning to the end of time, You were, You are, and You will be Lord of the Worlds!'”19
Ostad Elahi was particularly fond of this poignant and powerful supplication, often playing improvised versions that were renewed and different each time. In this recording, the melody is initially confined to a small interval, with the counterpoint on the low string and a slow rhythm without much dynamic range. It then opens and expands to cover a larger interval, allowing the incorporation of new sounds with unexpected changes in key. The rhythm is marked by syncopal phases, jolts that alternate with cascades of notes evoking dialogue and weeping.
18. Shâhnâmeh-ye Haqqiqat (or Haqq ol-Haqqâyeq)(Tehran: Jeyhun, 1995), with a commentary by Ostad Elahi.
19. These verses were composed by companions of Shâh Fazl Vali, a 9th-10th century theophanic figure in the Ahl-e Haqq tradition.
This hymn was composed by Hadj Nemat in 1906. The soft melody accompanies the following verses, which speak to the ephemeral nature of the material world and our finite time within it:20
Donia fani yan Dâwed gian
Har Haqq bâqia yan Dâwed gian
All in this world is precarious, O Dâvud
Only the Truth shall remain, O Dâvud
On one of his trips to western Iran, Ostad later modified the original lyrics and turned this hymn of mourning into one of joy.21
A purposeful delay can be heard between the sung phrases, almost as if to emphasize the meaning of the words being imparted.
20. These verses reference the Qur’anic verses, “Everyone on earth perishes; all that remains is the Face of your Lord, full of majesty, bestowing honor.” The Qur’an, trans. M.A.S. Abdel Haleem (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 55: 26-27.
21. This song and its modified lyrics, Shirina Leylâ, appears on the CD Celestial Harmonies (Paris: Le Chant du Monde, 1999/2004), track 4.
Recorded in 1964, this piece belongs to a category of Kurdish dances traditionally performed during marriage ceremonies or joyous celebrations. Ostad Elahi, however, performed this piece with a spiritual intention. With a short and repetitive pattern, it begins with an invitation to join the dance and embrace its rhythm. As the rhythmic variations multiply, they sustain the energy and vitality of the piece, inducing a state of profound spiritual joy, one that perhaps foreshadows the bliss that awaits the soul upon reuniting with its Beloved.
Back Cover
“What Ostad Elahi’s life shows us is that when we look back at the historical accounts, or the mythical accounts, of the great sages of the past and sometimes wonder to ourselves, ‘Could such an extraordinary person have really lived and walked this earth?’ the answer has to be yes, because here is one of them who was recently among us.”
—Theodore Levin, PhD
Arthur R. Virgin Professor of Music
Dartmouth College
For more on the art and philosophy of Ostad Elahi’s music, see Jean During, The Spirit of Sounds: The Unique Art of Ostad Elahi (Cranbury, NJ: Cornwall Books, 2003).
Resilience
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Le Chant du Monde — Harmonia Mundi / The Metropolitan Museum of Art
Published: 2019
The 14th CD in the Le Chant du Monde collection underscores Ostad’s use of music as a language that is based on the different states of the soul, including the pain of separation from the Beloved and the resilience to overcome this pain. In celebration of Ostad Elahi’s musical legacy at the Met, where several of his prized instruments are now on display in the permanent collection, this and another new CD were released and paired together in a commemorative box set.
Resilience
The majority of Ostad Elahi’s tanbur recordings were made between 1963 and 1972. These recordings were captured while Ostad was playing among close family members, and were not intended to be duplicated and released. Rather, the intention was to preserve a trace of these performances that had so deeply moved and even overwhelmed their listeners. Ostad Elahi is the creator of the learned art of tanbur, which until then had been a minor devotional instrument based on simple melodies.1 The unique repertoire and playing technique that he developed constitute a true universal heritage, and it soon became apparent that publicly releasing all of these recordings, regardless of their audio quality, was an artistic, historical, and spiritual imperative given the nature of this music.
The CDs that have been released are thus acoustic reproductions of these musical moments, as captured by the technical means available at that time,2 often in conditions that were suboptimal.3 Among these recordings, those that were of acceptable technical quality have been left almost entirely untouched; they sound as close as possible to the original. Similarly, aside from the fade-ins and fade-outs at the beginning and end of a piece, or the choice of where a piece should begin, there has been no audio editing. For example, undesirable ambient or external noise could conceivably have been removed. Yet the decision was made not to do so in order to convey, to the extent possible, the art of Ostad in its totality while enabling the listener to fully experience the spiritual atmosphere of those precious moments when he played.
Moreover, these stray “noises,” such as the chatter of children, the voice of a loved one, the rustle of a fabric, the impact of a falling object, and even the breath of the musician can be seen as an invitation to join the intimate and privileged circle of the musician; the artistic quality of these moments far outweighs any acoustic or technical flaw.
If the global industrialization of music has accustomed us to cleaner and more polished sounds, thereby turning us into more demanding listeners, it is worth remembering that there is some wisdom to be drawn from the coarseness of certain moments in a performance by having to adopt “positive listening” and transcend the physical senses. Indeed, Ostad’s music is not intended to flatter the ear, but to touch the soul.
Since the release of his first CDs in 1995 on the centenary of his birth, Ostad Elahi’s music has been the subject of numerous studies and publications. To date, twelve CDs have been released, including one two-volume CD, as well as a commemorative double CD-book marking an exhibition at The Metropolitan Museum of Art on his life and music entitled “The Sacred Lute: The Art of Ostad Elahi.”4
1. The most archaic versions of the tanbur date back some 5000 years, while those that closely resemble the present-day instrument have existed for at least 2000 years. In Iran, the tanbur proper, a two-stringed instrument, was among the court instruments of the Sassanid (3rd to 6th centuries), but the oldest surviving tanbur still in good condition is that of Ostad Elahi’s father, Hadj Nematollâh, which dates to the late 19th century.
2. A second-hand Grundig tape recorder.
3. These suboptimal conditions include external noises and a certain lack of “presence” as the recording was made from too far away (at times, members of Ostad Elahi’s family, who were aware of his exceptional musicianship and the rare spiritual opportunity presented by this intimate moment of playing for himself, would place a microphone behind the door of his room in order to capture a recording of his playing). When conditions were optimal, the quality was good.
4. For more information, see https://www.metmuseum.org/press/exhibitions/2014/sacred-lute.
As was the case for the classical music of Persian masters,1 Ostad’s music is based on the different states and needs of the soul. Thus, this heartbreaking suite vividly depicts the states experienced by true spiritual lovers, including profound nostalgia, the pain of separation from the Beloved, and the soul’s resilience in overcoming this pain.
This improvisation is not based on and cannot be linked to any ancient, pre-Islamic foundation. It contains some passages of Ostad’s repertoire, but they are played differently and in a new sequence. At first, the piece is meditative, but it then invites the listener into a dense and intense soundscape in which the most surprising resonances echo one another.
Although the tempo increases, driven by a brilliant shor,2 the piece remains quite nostalgic at first. Successive waves are unleashed as so many cries for help. The repetitions are increasingly virtuosic, calmed by pauses from which dissonances still emerge, like a sorrow that has not yet been alleviated. Amid these cascades of notes, unexpected chords arise that gradually bring about a change in the atmosphere. Toward the end, Ostad plays a joyous air, a kind of catharsis, of plenitude, before returning briefly to the main theme pursuant to a pattern that is frequently found in his improvisations.
1. According to Ostad Elahi, “It is for the soul that the Iranian masters created their music, looking each time for the air that was the most suitable, the melody that would make the soul joyful and light at that moment. This even includes music tinged with nostalgia, for weeping calms the soul and procures joy.” Âsâr-ol-Haqq, vol. 2 (Tehran: Jeyhun, 1991), 359-60.
2. A type of roll played with the right hand.
With this piece, also recorded in the 1970s in Tehran, the listener is transported directly into a very intimate and personal atmosphere. The tanbur precedes the singing and guides it in the melody. The cantor here is a visitor who was quite fond of Ostad. In a way, this supplication was “his piece” and Ostad appreciated the simplicity, humility, and sincerity with which he addressed God. Ostad affectionately affords the cantor the opportunity to join his voice to that of the tanbur, to express his love of the divine through this sensitive and profound declaration. The voice and the instrument respond to each other with strong emotional tension, each silence complementing this emotion and seemingly even strengthening it. This entanglement of sounds is punctuated by Ostad’s appeals to Ali.1 This poem was originally written in Kurdish Kurmanji (close to Turkish) by Hazrat-é Ghosh tchi Oqli, a great spiritual figure of the Turkish Ahl-e Haqq tradition:2
I am no more than a sinner, but You, a reservoir of generosity,
Forgive us in the name of the Friend
Forgive us in the name of the pact with Benyâmin,3 the guide
Our Lord, light of divine power
Pearl of the Ocean without a shore, You who take Your friends by the hand
Forgive us, in the name of Dâvūd, the intercessor
Do not immerse us in earthly attachments and worries
Do not throw us into the circle of the unjust
Forgive us, in the name of Pîr Mūsi, the scribe with the golden pen
And in the name of the devotion of Razbar
It is in You that I seek refuge, O Friend without equal
You, above whom there is no one
From the diamond purse that You hold in Your hand
Grant us (riches),4 to we who are so immensely poor
It is in You that I seek refuge, Seigniorial Essence
I am intoxicated, inebriated
Forgive us in the name of Mostaphâ Dâvūdân
Who bears Your wrath as half of his name5
Preserve us from the glittering tinsel of the world
Do not cast us among unjust men
Forgive us, in the name of the golden Lady, from the crucible where she bakes bread
From the King who commands all that there is
The true friend is one who has crossed the mountains and meanders of the way
And who has reached the destination
The fire that burns the deniers,
Forgive us in the name of this fire that burns the deniers
The master, the true sage, is one who knows
Whoever has renounced his head, his life
Forgive us, in the name of King Jamshid,
Who drank from the chalice,6 with intoxicated eyes (of pure wine)
Ghosh tchi Oqli says: O Unique Friend, Peerless, the Efficient behind everything
You who have 70,000 [spiritual] servants
Forgive us, for the sake of all of these servants!
1. In this context, Ali’s name is a way of invoking the divinity, similar to Haqq (Truth) and Hû (Him).
2. The Ahl-e Haqq constitute a religious community numbering about one million among the Kurds of Iran and Iraq, as well as the Lors and Turks of Northwestern Iran.
3. In the tradition of the Ahl-e Haqq of Kurdistan, Benyâmin, and later in the poem, Dâvūd, Pîr Mūsi, Razbâr, and Mostaphâ Dâvūdân, are archangelic essences who, in the fourteenth century, were companions of Soltân Es’hâq (or Sahâk), the founder of the Order who served as their spiritual pole and was himself deemed a theophanic manifestation. Each of these essences had a specific spiritual function.
4. A reference to spiritual riches.
5. Mostaphâ is the agent of divine wrath.
6. The chalice in which the wine of mystic initiation is poured.
Drawn from the dance repertoire, the Tchapi suite often appears in Ostad Elahi’s interpretations, both in a developed form or as a reference within another suite. As with all his other pieces, it is rendered in an innovative way.
Here, it is played on the five-stringed tanbur (two trebles and mediums, one bass), a special tanbur created by Ostad Elahi. Played in a major key, the melody is joyful and harmonious, giving an impression of sweetness. The slow and soothing tempo invites the listener on a distant musical journey, one where he can envision landscapes passing by. The listening induces a feeling of protection and benevolence that reassures the traveler about the road ahead.
There are multiple versions of Sheikh Amiri, but the most complex and elaborate, which is played here, is that of Ostad Elahi himself. The melody, though highly ornamented, is devoid of any superfluity or artifice, marked instead by a kind of purity and original simplicity. Musical phrases are linked together, punctuated by dissonances that underscore a deep nostalgia. Despite its richness and its harmonic and rhythmic complexity, this air is imbued with great sweetness and seems to comfort a babbling child that can be heard not far from the musician.
1. Ostad Elahi, Âsâr-ol-Haqq, vol. 2 (Tehran: Jeyhun, 1991), 215.
2. Ostad Elahi, Paroles de Vérité (Paris: Albin Michel, 2014), saying 148.
3. Ibid., saying 226.
This recording dates back to the 1970s and was also made in Ostad Elahi’s home in Tehran.
Among these four hymns, repeated in unison by the audience, the first three were composed by Hadj Nematollâh, Ostad Elahi’s father; we do not know the author of the fourth. The first hymn is sung by Ostad, the next three by his eldest son Hadj Amin.
(1) Intense and full of energy, the first hymn evokes the companions of Hadj Nematollâh who were all dressed in a long white tunic.
Haqq sefid pushân / Haqq sefid pushân / Kowsar benushân / Haqq sefid pushân
Haqq dressed in white / drink from the water of Kowsar
“Haqq” is one of the divine names that evokes the Truth, the True, while “Kowsar” literally means the source from which all the streams of paradise flow. For mystics, this source lies in the possession of Ali, a manifestation of God, who gives this water to whomever he wants in a quantity that corresponds to each person’s spiritual capacity.
(2) This hymn was composed in honor of Soltân Es’hâq,1 when Hadj Nematollâh received the manifestation of his Essence.
Shâm âmâ, Shâm âmâ, Shâhan Shâye Shâhân âmâ
My King has come, my King has come, the King of Kings of all Kings has come.
(3) In this hymn, the responses of the assembly end with some a cappella measures. The collective fervor is clearly perceptible.
Shâh Ne’matollâh valian Haqq / Avval-o âkhar ‘Alian Haqq
Shâh Ne’matollâh is the vali of Truth / The beginning and the end are Ali, who is Truth
(4) This more rhythmic chant has an unusual characteristic: at the end of each melodic phrase, it includes a surprising chord that reverses the melody. The playing of this chord corresponds to the only time when nobody sings, as if to allow everyone to catch their breath before expressing their gratitude.
This is my joy and enthusiasm, thank you O’ God
This is my (permanent) spiritual era, thank you O’ God
1. Soltan Es’hâq (or Sahâk), a great theophanic figure of the fourteenth century, is deemed the founder of the mystical order of the Ahl-e Haqq, to which Hadj Nematollâh belonged.
Joy predominates here: the festive and joyous melodies take the listener away to a particularly beneficent universe. Along with a basso continuo, Ostad makes this melody dance, with a few harmonic variations, as if to play along with the children’s voice that is heard in the background. The developed rhythm reinforces this invitation to dance.
When the singing begins, the soft and fluid voice blends with the melodies and rhythms played on the tanbur. The song is addressed to the “papu soleymâni,” a sort of mythical bird that resembles the hoopoe. Each verse is repeated twice.
Papu soleymâni danuk zarina
O papu soleymani with a yellow beak
Bâlâkat vâka betchuwow mina
Spread your wings and travel over there
Betchuwow awrâmân
Go to Awrâmân (the site of Soltân’s tomb)
Soltan giân binaw
And visit our beloved Soltân Sahâk
Khavari bâri
Bring back some news
Vow sarzaminaw
From that country there
This improvisation is based on the theme and rhythmic matrix of a particular Kurdish dance, of which there are about ten different versions. It is named “Pâye Kubi” (literally “tapping one’s foot against the floor”) in reference to the dance steps performed. The opening of this piece is quite particular: both fluid and irregular, it gives the impression of a mechanism that starts up in order to set itself in motion.
Once he has presented the theme, Ostad Elahi introduces variations and sketches other melodies that then dissolve back into the main theme. He does not merely play each piece one after the other; he also melds and coordinates them, sustained by an invariable bass that is the counterpoint to the execution of the masterfully sequenced airs.
Most of these melodies are usually played on the zurna (oboe) or the dozâle (double clarinet), accompanied by a powerful dohol (two-sided drum). Prior to Ostad, it seems that these pieces had never been played on a tanbur. The adaptation of these melodies to this lute and their ornamentations, typical of wind instruments, was another of his innovations. While playing these melodies requires an exceptional technique, perhaps even more remarkable are the host of innovative techniques that enable him to reach a barely conceivable level of musical intensity on this three-stringed lute.
My Beginning and My End
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Le Chant du Monde – Harmonia Mundi / The Metropolitan Museum of Art
Published: 2019
The 13th CD in the Le Chant du Monde collection offers a rare glimpse into Ostad’s diverse repertoire, featuring pieces rendered on the singular five-stringed tanbur, the setar, and the tar. In celebration of Ostad Elahi’s musical legacy at the Met, where several of his prized instruments are now on display in the permanent collection, this and a second new CD were released and paired together in a commemorative box set.
My Beginning and My End
The majority of Ostad Elahi’s tanbur recordings were made between 1963 and 1972. These recordings were captured while Ostad was playing among close family members, and were not intended to be duplicated and released. Rather, the intention was to preserve a trace of these performances that had so deeply moved and even overwhelmed their listeners. Ostad Elahi is the creator of the learned art of tanbur, which until then had been a minor devotional instrument based on simple melodies.1 The unique repertoire and playing technique that he developed constitute a true universal heritage, and it soon became apparent that publicly releasing all of these recordings, regardless of their audio quality, was an artistic, historical, and spiritual imperative given the nature of this music.
The CDs that have been released are thus acoustic reproductions of these musical moments, as captured by the technical means available at that time,2 often in conditions that were suboptimal.3 Among these recordings, those that were of acceptable technical quality have been left almost entirely untouched; they sound as close as possible to the original. Similarly, aside from the fade-ins and fade-outs at the beginning and end of a piece, or the choice of where a piece should begin, there has been no audio editing. For example, undesirable ambient or external noise could conceivably have been removed. Yet the decision was made not to do so in order to convey, to the extent possible, the art of Ostad in its totality while enabling the listener to fully experience the spiritual atmosphere of those precious moments when he played.
Moreover, these stray “noises,” such as the chatter of children, the voice of a loved one, the rustle of a fabric, the impact of a falling object, and even the breath of the musician can be seen as an invitation to join the intimate and privileged circle of the musician; the artistic quality of these moments far outweighs any acoustic or technical flaw.
If the global industrialization of music has accustomed us to cleaner and more polished sounds, thereby turning us into more demanding listeners, it is worth remembering that there is some wisdom to be drawn from the coarseness of certain moments in a performance by having to adopt “positive listening” and transcend the physical senses. Indeed, Ostad’s music is not intended to flatter the ear, but to touch the soul.
Since the release of his first CDs in 1995 on the centenary of his birth, Ostad Elahi’s music has been the subject of numerous studies and publications. To date, twelve CDs have been released, including one two-volume CD, as well as a commemorative double CD-book marking an exhibition at The Metropolitan Museum of Art on his life and music entitled “The Sacred Lute: The Art of Ostad Elahi.”4
1. The most archaic versions of the tanbur date back some 5000 years, while those that closely resemble the present-day instrument have existed for at least 2000 years. In Iran, the tanbur proper, a two-stringed instrument, was among the court instruments of the Sassanid (3rd to 6th centuries), but the oldest surviving tanbur still in good condition is that of Ostad Elahi’s father, Hadj Nematollâh, which dates to the late 19th century.
2. A second-hand Grundig tape recorder.
3. These suboptimal conditions include external noises and a certain lack of “presence” as the recording was made from too far away (at times, members of Ostad Elahi’s family, who were aware of his exceptional musicianship and the rare spiritual opportunity presented by this intimate moment of playing for himself, would place a microphone behind the door of his room in order to capture a recording of his playing). When conditions were optimal, the quality was good.
4. For more information, see https://www.metmuseum.org/press/exhibitions/2014/sacred-lute.
Samâ’ expresses a melody that comes “from the firmament” (samâvât: heavens) to resonate in the soul and sweep the listener away in a dance that Ostad has described as celestial.
This improvisation was recorded in the 50s by Ostad’s eldest daughter while he played alone in his room. Rendered on a five-stringed tanbur (panj simi),3 it provides a good example of Ostad’s unique technique, notably his singular style of combining playing techniques from the tanbur with those of the setâr (see also track 4).
The suite opens with a series of themes, often composed of simple notes that convey a heightened sensitivity. Recurring tremolos impart an intimate character to the melody, which conveys the profound nostalgia of a fettered soul unable to rejoin its Creator.
The melody gradually strengthens, supported by an accompaniment of chords that slowly replace the tremolos. The atmosphere shifts, with alternating dissonances and free-flowing solos. Following a rubato cycle of rhythm variations (slowing down then returning to tempo), the sound becomes fuller and the movement of the cosmic dance sweeps the soul away in an increasingly powerful flux, accompanied by the following chant:4
Âmân sad âmân wo âmâna ku
Your help I implore a hundred times over, but where is Your help?
Yâ dasteh mena wo dâmâneh to
Here is my hand that grasps the hem of thy robe
1. See Ostad Elahi, Celestial Dances, compact disc (Paris: Le Chant du Monde, 2005).
2. Jean During, Musique et extase (Paris: Albin Michel, 1988), 200.
3. Panj simi: A special five-stringed tanbur (two double-strings for trebles and mediums, and a single string for the bass) created by Ostad Elahi. See Celestial Harmonies, compact disc (Paris: Le Chant du Monde, 1994/2004).
4. It is difficult to convey the full meaning of this song, expressed in Kurdish, in a simple but powerful way. As Jean During states: “The language of these songs is admirably adapted to the expression of mystical love, with its poetic turns of phrase that are audacious, concise, and striking while exhibiting great freedom.” The Spirit of Sounds: The Unique Art of Ostad Elahi (Cranbury, NJ: Cornwall Books, 2003), 75-6.
During the principal chant, the accompaniment of the tanbur is based on a slow and sober rhythm, whereas it becomes filled with ornamentations when the assembly answers.
The first verses of this zekr1
Haqq-e Haqq hû hû hû / Ey âghâye jâfem
Ghonaray sar tâfem / yâr bi gazâfem
are an invocation to Soltan,2 who in this context represents the divine essence; “Haqq” and “Hû” are divine names that refer to the Truth, the True, God, and the One.
“Ghonaray (the river) sar tâfem (the foam on the crest of the wave)” represents both the turbulence of the impetuous river’s currents and the flashes of light emerging from the swirling waters, while “yâr bi gazâfem” means my beloved (yâr), Soltan, who is devoid of lies. Thus, these verses can be translated as follows:
The world, like a river, is all sparkle and turbulence
But You, my Beloved, are devoid of ostentation, pure Truth
1. Zekr literally means remembrance of God. These zekrs are prayers that are chanted or sung aloud, with the repetition of divine names and attributes.
2. Soltân Es’hâq (or Sahâk), a great theophanic figure of the fourteenth century, is considered the founder of the mystical order of the Ahl-e Haqq.
This piece was recorded in Ostad’s home within the simple familial environment of daily life. After Ostad begins to play, a microphone is gently placed in front of his tanbur; he continues playing, absorbed by the intimacy of his dialogue with his Creator.
An excerpt of this piece titled Wala witâna was released on the CD Celestial Harmonies (track 2) and on the double CD (Reverence, track 2) accompanying the commemorative book marking The Sacred Lute: The Art of Ostad Elahi exhibition at the MET. Here, the entire piece has been made available to restore its complete spiritual significance. Rendered on the five-stringed tanbur, the melody develops in a subtle manner, alternating between high-pitched and low-pitched responses that produce a veritable conversation, a musical dialogue.
The playing of the left hand is powerful, while the index finger of the right hand, which Ostad uses as if he were playing the setâr,1 strikes the strings in a way that greatly amplifies the sound of the instrument.2 Though the rhythm frequently varies during the piece, no hiatus is heard throughout.
The melody of the next passage was arranged by Ostad Elahi based on verses by Pir Razbar. The only woman with the spiritual rank of an archangel in the Kurdish Ahl-e Haqq tradition, Pir Razbar is a highly revered saint who lived in the 14th century. The mother of Soltân Es’hâq, who served as her spiritual pole, she was entirely devoted to him.
The first verse of the poem, “Wa manzelgâtân kâm djâdjitâna,” can be translated as “where and in what standing do you wish your abode?” Ostad has interpreted this verse as follows: Along your journey, at what point do you wish to stop? At the opulence of this world? At the abundant blessings of Paradise? The purpose of this path (which is revealed to you) is for you to reach the Truth/God. Once you arrive at the Truth, everything will be resolved; you will have knowledge of everything.
As for the second verse, “Eshq-e Haqq wa sar sheet-e witâna,” which can be translated as “Carry the madness of love of Truth in your heart and in your heart be enamored with God!” Ostad has said the following: It is after a person has gone through all of the spiritual stages that the love of the Truth/God blossoms in her heart. When a person reaches a state where all the pleasures in this world are no longer a pleasure for her, she becomes boundlessly enamored with the Truth, such as Mansūr,3 who uttered, “I am the Truth!” or Zachary,4 who laughed as they tortured him, or Hoseyn,5 who wore a smile on his face when they decapitated him. In this state, the body and the world no longer mean anything to her. From there, she reaches a state of rapture, a state in which wherever she looks, it is God/the Truth that she sees, and she is ready for God to launch her into the realm of Perfection.
Wa manzelgâtân kâm djâdjitâna
Where and in what standing do you wish your abode?
Eshq-e Haqq wa sar sheet-e witâna
Carry the madness of love of Truth in your heart and in your heart be enamored with God!
Che manzelgâtân kâm djâdjitâna
Where and in what place do you wish your abode?
Rây Haqq râsian râsti ritâna
The path of Truth is righteousness, righteousness is the path
Yâ shart-o eqrâr shart-e shâtâna
This is the pact of acceptance, this is the pact
Bâqi âkharat manzel gâtâna
The permanent hereafter will be the abode
Yâ dâm-e balâ yâ balâtâna
This trap of pain is the necessary evil
Eshq-e Haqq wa sar sheet-o witâna
Carry the madness of love of Truth in your heart and in your heart be enamored with God!
Din-e âshekâr bar malâtâna
It is the apparent path that is now revealed to you
Eshq-e Haqq wa sar sheet-o witâna
Carry the madness of love of Truth in your heart and in your heart be enamored with God!
Wa manzelgâtân kâm djâdjitâna
Where and in what standing do you wish your abode?
This chant is followed by a supplication that Ostad Elahi was quite fond of. Its melody was inspired by Mansuri, an archetypal learned Persian melody (gushe). The chanted text is a poem written in honor of Shâh Khoshin6 by one of his spiritual companions, who conveys his exclusive love for the divine:
Az avval to boudi yâ din yâ din Ali Ali Ali Hû Hû
Az qatré-yé âb-e mani ey din Ali Ali
Manat kardi naqqâshi yâ Mowlâm yâ Mowlâm
Bâ behesht o douzakhat ey Mowlâm kâri nadâram
Omidvâram yâ Ali to bâ man bâshi yâ Ali Ali
From the beginning, there was You
You, O Almighty, my Faith, my Breath!
You, O Almighty, my Faith, my Breath!
You molded me from a drop
O my Lord!
I have no need for Your paradise or Your hell
What I hope, O Almighty
Is that You are always with me, You!
This passage is followed by Mobârak Bâdâ (second version, Celestial Harmonies, tracks 1 and 2). Both the color and the mood shift, giving way to a more nostalgic tone. A series of themes coalesce, offering an array of rich polyphony and harmonies, nuances and rhythmic changes. The suite is a sort of Zang-e shotori—a melodious, soft, and serene piece whose moderate swaying evokes the tingling bells of a moving caravan.7
1. The Persian setâr is a classical three-stringed instrument belonging to the family of long-necked lutes.
2. Ostad used to play the Persian setâr in his own personal way, plucking the strings “in reverse”—that is, from top to bottom in order to mark the accents. For more information, see Jean During, The Spirit of Sounds: The Unique Art of Ostad Elahi (Cranbury, NJ: Cornwall Books, 2003).
3. Mansûr Hallâj (d. 922 Hegira), a martyr celebrated in the East, was put to death after having declared in a moment of ecstasy and mystical union: “I am the Truth.”
4. Zachary, who was the father of Saint John the Baptist, was wrongly accused of a crime and sawn in half.
5. Hoseyn (626-680), the grandson of the prophet Muhammad and the third imam in Twelver Shiism, was martyred in Karbala.
6. Shâh Khoshin, a prominent eleventh century Kurdish saint, formalized the tanbur as a sacred instrument.
7. Zang-e Shotori (“camel bells”) is a melody inspired by the movement of a caravan of camels. It is said that ‘Ali (a prominent saint of the Shia tradition and son-in-law of the prophet Muhammad) adjusted the sound of the bells of his camels (Zang-e Shotor) so that the ensuing melody would stimulate their pace.
Sahari is usually played to announce dawn and the awakening of nature. It can also be perceived as a call for the soul to awaken, to experience more intensely the effect of the One, which is present everywhere and in everything, and to not be negligent or sluggish while all beings throughout creation sing and praise the divine.
This piece originates from recordings made in the early 60s. It represents both a technical and artistic challenge: it is performed on a small Persian setâr that Ostad had named “Bolbol” (nightingale).1 He had modified this setâr into a smaller replica of his five-stringed tanbur. Ostad played this instrument in a manner that upended established rules: he combined tanbur playing techniques (five fingers hitting all the strings or playing rolls) with those of the setâr (plucking the strings with the index). Above all, he played this melody in the Farangi chord (in thirds) on a five-stringed tanbur, an almost insurmountable challenge; both the technical and physical means are lacking to achieve the desired sound. Only the performer’s extraordinary virtuosity is able to produce this astonishing impression of ease and simplicity.
The suite is incomplete, as the very beginning of the recording was unusable. The piece thus opens on a major key, an A-F third, that also constitutes its foundation. As the melody develops, the initial rhythm changes, with the playing of ornamentations and several shors (five-finger rolls) during short silences. The melody then returns, played in solo, in the simplest and purest manner possible, on a string with a single finger. The melody is then played anew, with all the previous characteristics (melodic, rhythmic) but with a fresh intensity.
The piece as a whole is akin to an overture featuring expansive and energetic playing, a combination of subtle fluidity and great power.
1. A flat-bodied travel instrument with which he almost always traveled. Ostad Elahi’s family has donated this instrument to the Musée de la musique de la Philharmonie in Paris.
The original lyrics of this zekr are:
Yâ Soltan, âmân agarem dâ’i
Dasht-e awrâmân lâvarem dâ’i
O Soltan, mercy, you have set me aflame
You have laid the plain of Hawrâmân1 at my feet
On this recording, however, Ostad does not sing these words but introduces subtle variations invoking the divine (“Yâ Ali Jân,” “Haqq Ali Jân,” “Mowlâm Ali,” “Yâ Ali âmân”). The piece enables us to appreciate the power of Ostad’s right hand, which is never overshadowed by the beats of the daf and the collective hand-clapping.
Although played with variants, the main motif has the specificity of always ending on a countercurrent chord that coincides with the last strike on the daf, imparting a rhythmic impulse and an energy each time that revives the dynamics of the piece.
A festive feeling and joy predominate, as the melody is light and the rhythm lively.
1. Hawrâmân is a region in Kurdistan that plays a symbolic role in the Ahl-e Haqq tradition.
In a calm and peaceful atmosphere, he introduces the piece with these words:
Ey Khodâvandeh tabârak va taâla ruh-e mân va tavajoh-e mân be suye Tost
Ey Khodâyâ
Inak barâye meymanate emshab ke shab-e mobâraki be nazar miresat, inak shūrū mikonim be yek Jelo Shâhi
Omidvâram ke pasande maqâme Ma’navi beshavad.
Hû yâ Ali
O God, the Almighty and Great, our soul and our attention are turned toward You,
O Lord!
Now, in order to receive grace on this night, which appears to be a blessed night, we will begin by playing Jelo Shâhi.
I hope it will meet with the approval of the spiritual Rank.
The piece opens with several chords struck vigorously in a major key. The deep, majestic sounds reverberate to fill the entire audible spectrum. Throughout the piece, the energy and intensity of the playing increase, with moments of lively staccato. During a more solemn passage at about 10’20 in the recording, the main melody seems to divide itself, leading to several distinct melodic phrases, all different yet complementing each other, as if additional instrumentalists had joined in, rendering a true polyphony.
Almost of a pictorial nature, this piece offers a series of musical canvasses that impart a sense of grandeur, dignity, and nobility, unfolding like scenes from a movie. At first, one can sense a feeling of joy, but a feeling that is somewhat contained. The melodies relate a sense of anticipation up until the final passage, which corresponds to the arrival of the spiritual king.
Although the typical melodies of the Jelo Shahi suite are all discernable,1 they are played here with complete freedom of improvisation. At times they are played faster, and at other times they can only be heard between two cavalcades: the rhythms are races, gallops, and rushing whirwinds. Each melody appears to want to displace the previous one. The lush and orchestral sound that Ostad Elahi produces with the five-stringed tanbur endows this interpretation with a masterful dimension, yet another account of the impressive freedom that was among the hallmarks of this master’s playing.
1. See The Celestial Music of Ostad Elahi, compact disc (Paris: Le Chant du Monde, 1996/2004), track 1.
Awakening
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Le Chant du Monde – Harmonia Mundi
Published: 2014
The 12th CD in the Le Chant Du Monde collection features several improvisations by Ostad Elahi that are accentuated by the unusual tuning of the tanbur as well as fervent supplications and litanies.
Awakening
The 12th CD in the Le Chant Du Monde collection features several improvisations by Ostad Elahi that are accentuated by the unusual tuning of the tanbur as well as the fervent supplications and litanies.
Ali, Ali
Deley gonah kâr yâ Mowlâm, yâ Mowlâm
Deley zabun bakht, Ali Ali
Hâi tchani gonahkâr, Ali
Ar tchay azal Mowlâm, Mowlam Ali, ay djânam
Mowlâm hey Mowlâm, pey chich makafti, hey Mowlâm hey Ali
Dür tcha qâpi yâr
O sinner heart, how weak and destitute
Sinner since the dawn of creation
If only you had shown more patience at the outset!
How you have lacked respect and patience,
What have you done to distance yourself from the divine abode?
Ali, Mowlâm (my Lord), and Djânam (my Beloved) are all different ways of invoking God. The invocation (zekr) that prolongs and completes this prayer was inspired to Ostad in the 1940s. It reminds the soul that everything is in the hands of its Beloved, and that He alone can solve all problems.
Ali âmân yâ Ali
Dakhilam wa to Ali
Moshkel goshâ-i Ali
Hal-le moshkel-i Ali
Ali, help, O Ali
You are my support, Ali
You alone can unravel difficulties, Ali
You alone can solve difficulties, Ali
1 Sheykh Amir was an 18th century Kurdish mystic. Following a sudden spiritual awakening, this illiterate shepherd composed numerous poems with deep spiritual meaning and rich symbolic imagery.
This zekr by Ostad Elahi was also composed in the forties and evokes two spiritual personalities, Ali and Soltân, who are considered to be theophanies
Har va aw Soltân, (bis) wa pardeh nurân
Mowlâmân wey dowr mowlâmân wey dowr sâheb zehurân (Haqq) sâheb zehurân
Soltân, O Soltân, Behind the veils of Light
Lord of this age, Our Lord
The Master of Time, The Manifestation of the Time
Soltân is also a way of invoking the Divine, as are Haqq (Truth) and Hu (Him).
Shâh Khoshin was a great 11th century mystic who lived in Lorestân. It is reported that he was the first to introduce zekr-e jali in spiritual assemblies, accompanying it with chants and musical instruments, including the tanbur. The Suite that is performed here differs from other versions of Shâh Khoshini and is imbued with a majestic and somewhat strange kind of beauty.2 The richness of the sound expresses the sort of fervor that never lets the soul rest, even during the most peaceful segments of the piece, enjoining it to free itself from the grip of materiality.
2. See CD, Mystical Orison, Le Chant du Monde/Harmonia Mundi, 2000; republished 2004.
This piece was recorded in Ostad Elahi’s home in Tehran on the occasion of a visit by a group of Kurdish devotees from his native region in western Iran. The atmosphere of that gathering was so warm and spiritual that Ostad played the tanbur for a long time, which was quite unusual. This track reproduces part of that session.
The piece starts with a brilliant introduction of the Sahari Suite, a melody that used to be played at dawn to awaken dervishes and stir the soul. What makes this introduction remarkable is that it is played with a tuning in seconds instead of the usual fourths, which requires special skill and casts the melody in an unusual light.
The first voice that appears is that of a singer (kalâmkhân) who was renowned for the quality of his Sahari interpretation, as well as his faith, fervor, and abnegation. Ostad Elahi pays tribute to his fervor by not only accompanying him on the tanbur, but also by joining him in his singing. This duet of master and student is highly emotional and is further intensified when Ostad begins to sing an octave lower, invoking the Divine in various ways (Ali Hu, Mowlâm Hu, Haqq Hu, Ali Ali jân, Ali Mowlâm Hu, Ali Hu âmân) before carrying the whole gathering along into an improvised dance melody.
The poem that is sung was composed by Malak Jân Nemati, Ostad Elahi’s younger sister, who was a poet of great sensitivity and an accomplished musician.3
Qorbân zât-et bâm bargeh balâya
Khosh va hâl kasi, khâs mobtalâya
Khot Haqq, zâtet Haqq, maqâmet Haqq
Esmat azama, zâtet motlaqa
May I be sacrificed for Your essence, which resembles mighty lightning
Blessed are those who are struck by this lightning
You are Haqq, Your essence is Haqq, Your rank is Haqq
Your name is God’s name in majesty, Your essence is absolute.
3. See Leili Anvar, Malak Jan Nemati (New York: Arpeggio Press, 2012).
Following the previous piece, this melody is also played with a tuning in seconds.
This suite of zekrs was recorded in the intimacy of Ostad’s home, with close family and friends spontaneously taking up the refrains of the melodies in unison. The first zekr dates back to a time before Hadj Nemat, Ostad Elahi’s father.4
Dust bejan bejan barza meli
Jam-e râstâna yâr na deli
O friend, play, play for the great man
This is the gathering of the Righteous, the Beloved is among them.
Sâheb tül-e zar Dâwud
Zâmen âhu bar Dâwud
Master with the golden stick, Dâwud
Protector of the fawn, Dâwud
The golden stick likely symbolizes the mission of spiritual guidance entrusted to Dâwud, a manifestation of Raphael, the archangel of divine clemency.
Jam nyân dusân aw yâna
Haqq shama mirdân parwâna
Friends have convened the gathering in this house
God is the candle; men the butterflies.
This zekr was composed by Hadj Nemat shortly after his spiritual illumination around 1900.
4. See www.hadjnemat.com
This piece unfolds as a kind of dialogue between two spiritual lovers, interpreted first in the Qatâr mode.5 Qatar is an important Kurdish mode that includes elements from Persian music, rendered here in a profound, meditative, and essentially non-measured way. The tanbur is played like a setar, the strings plucked with the forefinger of the right hand rather than struck with all fingers, as is usually done. Despite these technical restrictions, Ostad manages to perform an extremely rich piece conveying calm, strength, and dignity. The melodic line depends on a delicate balance, and the fingers striking the sounding board give an impression of great determination.
This passage is followed by improvisations in the Sahari mode (see track 4). The dialogue between the lovers continues; they respond to each other like two birds at the break of dawn, “perched” on two octaves at the top and bottom of the tanbur’s neck. They then fly away together, united in the consuming swirl of their love.
The dance themes that conclude this piece are an invitation to allow oneself to be carried away by this impulse of pure love and to discover universes as varied as they are unexpected: In the midst of an exhilarating dance, the performer suddenly changes the tuning of his instrument from fourths to seconds, casting the atmosphere in a new light.
5. See CD, Cascade, Le Chant du Monde/Harmonia Mundi, 2002; republished 2004.
The Sacred Lute: The Art of Ostad Elahi
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Le Chant du Monde – Harmonia Mundi / The Metropolitan Museum of Art
Published: 2014
This commemorative double CD-Book celebrates an eponymous special exhibition at The Metropolitan Museum of Art on the transformative music and life of Ostad Elahi.
The Sacred Lute: The Art of Ostad Elahi
“The Sacred Lute: The Art of Ostad Elahi,” a special exhibition presented by The Metropolitan Museum of Art from August 5, 2014 through January 11, 2015, is the first American exhibition examining the music and life of Ostad Elahi (1895-1974), a renowned Persian musician, thinker, and jurist.
The Sacred Lute focuses on the interdependent and transformative relationship between Ostad Elahi and the tanbur, an ancient, long-necked lute dating back to the third millennium B.C. Over thirty of his personal possessions including rare instruments, manuscripts, musical notebooks, apparel such as his judicial robes and other symbolic items, along with a number of art objects from the Metropolitan’s collection, have been assembled to tell this story.
The evolution of Ostad Elahi’s music paralleled his personal and spiritual transformation. In art as in life, Ostad Elahi sought meaning and transcendence, culminating in what would become an innovative approach to the pursuit of inner perfection.
His singular vision would directly fuel his remarkable musical improvisations. For Ostad Elahi, music in general and the tanbur in particular were above all a means of delving within and connecting with the Divine. He thus never played in public, and few beyond the circle of his family and friends were able to witness his art firsthand.
The recordings on this commemorative CD-Book offer a unique window into the inner states and spiritual landscapes that Ostad Elahi began experiencing as a child prodigy and continued to explore until the end of his life. After listening to this music, you will appreciate why his art of tanbur provides an expressive avenue to embark on this extraordinary journey.
J. Kenneth Moore Frederick P. Rose Curator in Charge
Department of Musical Instruments
The Metropolitan Museum of Art
CD 1: Reflection
The Sahari suite evokes dawn, that particular moment when nature awakens to address her song of praise to the Creator. Both the rhythm and the melody are in constant flux. At first, they recall the song of a nightingale and other birds before shifting to the sounds and echoes of nature: Dawn has arrived, and the universe is awakening.
The name of this piece literally evokes the song (khāni) of a starling (sār); it may also be a reference to the Saint (Sāru Khān) who composed it. Here, Ostad accompanies the melody with a supplication:
Praise to You, benevolent and glorious Lord
You who knows all that is hidden and revealed
My Creator, my Refuge, my Support
It is You that I implore, in hardship and in fortune
No matter how great my failings, Your forgiveness is greater still
I have succumbed to temptation, now I am plagued by remorse
O God, hear my plea
For You know how miserable and destitute I am
Ostad had classified this suite among the antique modes, but its title and content, at once tragic and majestic, are also reminiscent of the story of the martyrdom of Imam Hoseyn, the grandson of the prophet Muhammad. From this standpoint, it appears as an invitation to self-abnegation in the soul’s journey toward perfection.
The terms tchapi and tchupi mean ecstasy and enthusiasm, and designate a dance expressing spiritual exaltation. This piece, rendered on his five-string tanbur, is introduced as follows: “Tchapi . . . for myself.” Later, Ostad would explain that at that moment it was as though he were inhabited by the Divine. The term “myself” thus refers to the Creator, a well-known motif in the mystical tradition.
In its original form, this melody is attributable to Sheykh Amir, a Kurdish mystic from the eighteenth century. The Sheykh Amiri suite subsequently became a generic term designating a melodic type or family of airs, of which there are seventeen variants in Ostad’s repertoire, from the simplest (that of Sheykh Amir himself) to the most elaborate (that of Ostad).
Zir-e Dastān means “the higher register on the neck (of the tanbur).” According to Ostad: “The angels who sing with the tanbur are divided into two groups: those who sing in the upper ranges and those who sing in the lower ranges.” The mode is joyful and resembles the Major mode in the western tradition.
Farangi (“Frank” or “European”) is a chord introduced to the tanbur’s repertoire by Ostad Elahi. Among the notable pieces in this mode is the Zang-e Shotori-e Hazrat-e Mowlā. It is said that Hazrat-e Mowlā would adjust the sound of the small bells on his camels (Zang-e Shotor) such that their tinkling would produce a melody that spurred the camels’ pace.
CD 2: Reverence
Jelo Shāhi (“before the King”) evokes the imperial rites of ancient Persia, transposing them on a spiritual level. The piece reaches its climax upon the announcement of the King’s arrival: “Shāh āmad, Shāh āmad!” (“The King has arrived, the King has arrived!”). Galvanized, the soul finds the energy to confront the most formidable of enemies by virtue of the King’s presence.
The title of this piece means “O King, may You be with me.” Ostad was very fond of this supplication. The lyrics are attributed to Shāh Khoshin, a great Kurdish saint of the eleventh century. In this entreaty, the poet expresses his exclusive love for the Divine:
You are my beginning, You are my end
You molded me from a drop of water
Your heaven or Your hell I care not for
My hope is for You to always be with me.
Despite the interruption of a crying child, this piece presents a sample of the manner in which Ostad Elahi played the tār.
Depending on the context, the term qatār can signify a caravan, a convoy, a chain, or a link. Qatār is a profound and intimate mode with little rhythm that evokes prayer and secrets. Each piece appears as a link in a chain whose various elements fit together to form a continuous and perfectly balanced rhythmic and harmonic movement.
Bālā dastān means the lower register on the neck (of the tanbur), and it is in this register (the seven lowest frets of the instrument) that this ancient melody is usually played. Ostad Elahi, however, extended the melody to the entire tanbur.
Tarz is a generic term that means style, genre, or manner. In Ostad’s repertoire, it refers to a category of ancient mystical melodies. Filled with nostalgia, this air invites introspection and a return to oneself.
Shekaste means “broken.” This piece belongs to the repertoire of Azerbaijani music that Ostad Elahi interpreted on the Turkish tchogur. He was quite fond of this melody, which he would sometimes set to various poems.
Bābā Sarhang is the name of a saint who lived in the ninth century and was a predecessor to Shāh Khoshin (see track 2 on this CD). Similarly, Bābā Nāvus is the name of a saint who lived in the tenth and eleventh centuries.
Bālā (the top or higher part of the neck) refers to the lower register. There are some who believe that this air can also serve as the backdrop for a dance in which the arms are extended like two (do) wings (bāl). The origin of the ensuing melody, Karim Khāni (the air of Karim Khān), is unknown.
Entitled “The rose and the thorn,” this piece evokes states of spiritual joy and sadness. According to Ostad Elahi, “Iranian melodies, especially the ancient ones, always come in pairs: an impassioned melody is followed by a sweet melody; a jubilant melody is followed by a nostalgic air, etc.”
Presence
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Le Chant du Monde – Harmonia Mundi
Published: 2014
The 11th CD in the Le Chant Du Monde collection features a tribute to Nakisa and Barbad, two illustrious court musicians in Ancient Persia, along with several ancient Kurdish zekrs performed in the intimacy of Ostad Elahi’s family environment.
Presence
The 11th CD in the Le Chant du Monde collection features a tribute to Nakisâ and Bârbad, two illustrious court musicians in Ancient Persia, along with several old zekrs performed in the intimacy of Ostad Elahi’s family environment.
Nakisâ and Bârbad are two characters from Ancient Persia, famous court musicians of the Sassanid King Khosrow Parviz in the early 7th century (pre-Islamic period).1 According to Jean During, “We owe to Bârbad the invention and classification of a large number of melodies and modes; some thirty tunes have come down to us.”2 He is traditionally credited with inventing the musical system incorporating seven modal structures known as “royal modes” (khosrovani), thirty derived modes (lahn), and three hundred and sixty melodies (dastân) corresponding to the number of days in the week, month, and year of the Sassanid calendar. His favorite instrument was the barbat, a sort of tanbur considered to be the oldest stringed instrument in Iran.
It is said that Bârbad had a considerable reputation even before he became a famous court musician.3 The court favorite at the time, Sarkis, was jealous of Bârbad’s reputation and (fearing that he would be overshadowed) prevented him from coming to the court. One day, Bârbad met the royal gardener and persuaded him to allow him to remain in the garden incognito when the King came for a walk. At the appropriate time, Bârbad came in and hid in a tree. The King arrived with his courtiers. As he was being served a goblet of wine, Bârbad began to play.4 The King was amazed and asked who was playing; Bârbad stopped and stayed hidden. He began playing again as a second goblet was served to the King. Again, the King was deeply moved by the music, but Bârbad did not emerge. When the third goblet was served, Bârbad and his instrument set nature to music with such emotion that the King stood up and cried: “This must be an angel sent by God to bring us joy!” He begged the musician to show himself. Bârbad came down from the tree, fell to his knees and, from that moment, was the incomparable court musician. His name reflects his new status, as Bâr means “court” and Bad means “possessor.”
Bârbad’s musical supremacy was such that he could evoke at will any feeling in his audience. The story goes that the King had a black horse named Shabdiz, which he loved above all else, to the extent that he had decreed if Shabdiz should die, the person announcing such news to him would be executed. The fateful day came and nobody dared tell the King the sad news. Bârbad was given the task. So he composed a tune he called Shabdiz. When he went to the King and played it for him, the King exclaimed: “Shabdiz is dead!” Bârbad was subsequently assassinated, though no one knows whether it was the work of Sarkis or one of his students.
Sources disagree as to whether Nakisâ was a man or a woman and whether he or she was born in Persia or Greece.5 This musician’s favorite instrument was the harp, though Nakisâ was equally famous as a singer, with a musical standing almost as great as Bârbad’s. They met at the court of King Khosrow Parviz and collaborated on the composition of the “royal modes.”
In Kurdish gnosis, Nakisâ and Bârbad are bound by a deep and enduring spiritual love, comparable to that between Joseph and Jacob or Jesus Christ and John the Baptist. They endured the trial of separation and were finally reunited after overcoming a number of obstacles (tradition does not tell us the circumstances of either their parting or their reunion).
According to Jean During, Nakisâ and Bârbad “is a (dastgâh), an Iranian mode with no particularly marked Kurdish character. It seems to belong properly to the school of Ostad Elahi. Its noble and serene expression suits equally well the instrumental solo as the cantillation of kalâms or mystical verses.”6 Ostad Elahi liked to honor the memory of these two illustrious musicians and often referred to them when he played their melody in the middle of an improvisation. In this piece, after a short introduction, the rhythm becomes livelier; the playing grows louder before taking an unexpected turn. A series of sudden changes occurs, achieving integration only as a result of the virtuosity and technical mastery of the performer.
1. See CD, Destinations, vol. 2, Le Chant du Monde/Harmonia Mundi, 2008.
2. Musique et Mystique dans les Traditions de I’lran, Paris, IFRI Peeters, (Book II, part 2), 1989.
3. Târikhé mousseghi e Iran (History of Music in Iran), by Hassan Machhoun, published by Cimorgh, 1373 shamssi (Iranian calendar), vol. 1, p. 56-66.
4. In the pre-Islamic period, wine was not forbidden in Persia.
5. Târikhé mousseghi e Iran, pages 66-67.
6. Musique et Mystique.
We are immediately plunged into the heart of an intense musical landscape where rhythm and melody evolve along lines of continually renewed inspiration. These successive changes are perfectly executed: Notes added in a different mode, strong tempi sliding into a different rhythm, risky transpositions, unlikely modulations, etc. These are just a few examples of the boldness and complexity of Ostad Elahi’s musical project.
Toward the end of the piece, the music gathers speed as if to sweep the listener into a dance of joy with a captivating rhythm. Nakisâ and Bârbad are reunited and their purely spiritual love intensifies with each moment they spend together, an exaltation expressed by the virtuosity and creativity of the performer.
A recording of Farangi appeared on the compact disc Dialogue with the Beloved.7 Farangi, which literally means “Frankish” or “European,” is distinguished by a sense of the foreign or strange. “Farangi tuning” (kuk-e farangi) is when the tanbur is tuned in seconds rather than the usual fourths, giving it an unusual color and atmosphere while allowing for great subtlety as the thumb plays on the low string. Ostad Elahi introduced this tuning to the tanbur, one that is rarely encountered in the Oriental lute family of instruments.
Praise to the Divine lies at the heart of this piece. It is preceded by a preparation, a sort of introduction that is characteristic of Ostad Elahi and to which he held the key, creating shades of meaning around lively playing in unison. Just as an orchestra tunes in preparation for a concert, successive rows playing an A, so too does the musician appear to introduce all the beings taking part in the celebration and have them play in unison. The hymn of praise unfolds during the Zang-e shotori theme, reaching a dense climax. Then, step by step, the atmosphere lightens until a passage of gentle sweetness is reached, where the murmur of the voice seems to fuse with the tanbur to express joy and gratitude. Yet Ostad Elahi’s music does not allow the listener to “settle” into any single state: He is now drawn to a different place and made to break from what he is accustomed to. The music takes him ever further, toward other levels of perception, finishing with a zekr and a simple dance tune performed with the instrument.
7. Le Chant du Monde, 1997, reissued 2004.
This smooth, rhythmic recitative is a prayer to the Creator, expressing intense emotion in a deeply contemplative atmosphere. In a low voice and confidential tone, the musician addresses simple and direct words to his Beloved.
The tanbur is heard first, in a melody rising toward Him. Then the performer begins his song, invoking Ali, a divine name. Voice and instrument mingle in total symbiosis throughout this appeal to divine clemency and mercy. Ostad Elahi plays here in a style entirely his own. One may occasionally recognize a theme from a previous recording, but close listening will reveal that this is definitely an improvisation with the motifs unfolding in a totally unexpected manner. The passages evoking more familiar modes and themes (such as Hey Dâwed toward the end of the piece)8 are themselves played in an original way. Even listeners used to this musician’s compositions can be taken unawares and led from one new experience to another. Ostad’s universe is infused with gentle sweetness, but the pain of separation from the Beloved can be clearly felt.
The emotion is even more palpable when the singer’s voice catches and the appeal becomes more urgent. Ostad Elahi states that “weeping [in a spiritual state] soothes the soul and brings it joy; . . . if music is based on the aspirations of the soul, it will be more attractive both in its technical and spiritual quality.” (Asar ol-Haqq, vol. 2, p. 359-360). When the soul is touched, as it is by the awareness of separation from its Beloved, one cannot control one’s tears. Like purifying rain, they finally afford some relief.
Ostad Elahi’s emotion inspires this poem, improvised as he plays:
Ali (x 6)
Ali, agar bogzari, Ali (x 5)
Ali, gonabâr anân, Ali (x 6) djân
Gonabârân yâ Ali, yâ Ali, yâ Ali, Ali
Gonâham bâré gardan, yâ Ali, yâ Ali, yâ Ali
Va bâr gonâye sar vazir-e bâr yâ Mowlam Ali (x 5)
Gonâye men berdam yâ Mowlam amân Ali (x 5) djân, Ali, Hu
Sar va jir-e bâr-e Ali djân Mowlâm
Gonâhe men berdan
Va gonâh kârân mabu gerdam, ey Khodâ ye man, ey Mowlâ ye man
Bi gonâ va kardey yâ Ali djân mennat nabârdam, amân amân amân
Agar bogzari, yâ Mowlam vâ gonâh kâri
Aw vakht ma’aluman yâ Mowlâm to karam dâri
Djân Ali gonay, ey Khodâ ye man, Ali (x 5) karimi, rahimi, bozorgavâri
Ey Khodâ ye man (x3), Khodâ ye man (2 x)
Ey khâwleq-e man, ey Khodâ ye man
Ey Ali amân Ali (x 5)
Then, to the slow Hey Dawed theme:
Yâ Dâwed-e dâvedan Ali Hu har Dâwed-e khâsân
Hey Khodâ ye man rabb-e man
Yâ Ali yâ qolus
Ali
Ali, Forgive me, O Ali
My sins are innumerable, Ali, Ali my life
Forgive me, Ali
Take this weight from me, O Ali
You are my refuge, O Ali,
My head bows under the weight of my sins
Yes, I have been so remiss, O God
With this burden on my heart, whom else shall I call upon, O Ali?
I take refuge in Thee
Pardon me, Lord
And thus show Thy generosity
Ali my Beloved, O Lord, You are generous, magnanimous, all-powerful
O my God, my creator, my educator, my God
Like Ali, the terms Mowlâ (Lord), Khodâ (God), Djân (Loved one), and Hu (Him) are expressions of the divinity, a way of invoking God.
8. See CD Destinations, vol. 1, Le Chant du Monde/Harmonia Mundi, 2008.
Harmony, communion, and great sweetness are the keynotes of this ancient Kurdish zekr, played within the family circle.
Yârân wa bâten ye dang-i mayu / sedâyeh hey dayâr / sarhâng-i mayu
Companions, from the world of the spirit comes a voice
It is the voice of a Knight of God calling his divine Beloved.
This zekr was probably composed by Ostad Elahi in the 1930s, before a pilgrimage to the tomb of Soltân Eshâq.9 This impromptu recording was made at the point of breaking a forty-day fast (in fact, the beginning of the zekr is missing). Ostad had asked for all of his tanburs, chose a specific one, and played several zekrs, of which this is one.
The choir is made up mainly of women and children in his family. There is a palpable intensity and the gathering shows great concentration, even though the intonation is shaky. When one voice sings spontaneously in thirds, there is an effect of “despatialization,” rare in this harmonic context. But more astonishing is the moment when the choir is responding and a different tanbur sound is distinctly heard; a low, highly rhythmic note, even though there was no other tanbur player in the room.
Yâ Soltân, âmân agarem dâ’i / Dasht-e awrâmân lâvarem dâ’i
O Soltân, mercy, You have set me aflame
You have spread the plain of Hawrâmân at my feet
The meaning of these words is something of a mystery; they seem to refer to a personal spiritual event.
At the end of this piece, which moved the participants deeply, Ostad can be heard addressing his family, a testimonial to the spiritual state that existed at musical sessions led by Ostad Elahi: “When a family is united in heart, it can do anything. […] Had we spent ten years playing zekrs and praying, perhaps it would not have had as great an effect as this unity of heart in which we gathered as a family to approach God in one fervent outpouring. I hope Almighty God will always grant us the happiness of such faith and always look upon us with His benevolent gaze and light as we unite in turning to Him with sincere faith and hearts to lead a life that is in accord with His contentment. Hû Yâ ‘Ali; may God always grant us His blessings. This was truly a great joy for me.”
9. Soltân Eshâq, founder of the mystical order of the Ahl-e Haqq, lived in the 14th century.
As before, this dance piece is full of spiritual joy and begins powerfully, reinforced by a persistent humming on the low string. The listener is taken up in the movement, surrounded by the lightness and swirling rhythm of uninterrupted variations. In the sequence of tunes often played by Ostad Elahi, every change of rhythm creates a new atmosphere and carries one ever further. Then the music stops abruptly and silence sustains the emotion.
Destinations
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Le Chant du Monde – Harmonia Mundi
Published: 2008
This two-volume CD of Ostad Elahi’s compositions, modes, and improvisations on the tanbur begins with one of the most captivating and meditative pieces in the whole of Ostad’s repertoire, the Sheykh Amiri Suite, of which all seventeen variations are featured here, each expressing his intimate relationship with the Beloved while revealing his musical talent and finesse. The second CD presents, among other suites, the story of Abedin, a devout theologist and scholar who derides the mystical path as heresy until he undergoes a mystical transformation himself that opens his inner eyes and fills him with divine love.
Destinations
Marking the ninth and tenth releases in the Le Chant du Monde collection, this two-volume CD of Ostad Elahi’s compositions, modes, and improvisations on the tanbur begins with one of the most captivating and meditative pieces in the whole of his repertoire—the Sheykh Amiri Suite, with all 17 variations. The second volume presents, among other suites, the story of Âbedin, a devout theologian and scholar who derides the mystical path as heresy until he himself undergoes a transformation that opens his inner eyes and fills him with divine love.
CD 1
Sheykh Amiri is a generic term designating a type of melody and a specific way of tuning the tanbur in fourths, known as kuk-e Sheykh Amiri. The basic melody dates back to the time of Sheykh Amir, an 18th century Kurdish mystic who was a simple, illiterate shepherd. As a result of a sudden illumination and spiritual awakening, he was inspired with numerous symbolic poems replete with mystical and philosophical teachings.
Ever since Sheykh Amir, this melody has become the archetypal musical appeal to the Beloved in the context of this mystical tradition. It is often sung at the beginning of a religious meeting to prepare the adherents to detach themselves from their worldly preoccupations and to meditate on their true origins and the homeland from which they’ve been separated. It is usually followed by other more lively pieces with a stronger rhythm.
Ostad Elahi’s repertoire contains seventeen variations of the melody, some of which go under the title of Sheykh Amiri followed by a person’s name, for each one is attributed to its composer; others are designed to pay tribute to a spiritual personality (e.g., Sheykh Amiri-e Hâdj Nemat, Sheykh Amiri-e Shâh Hayâsi); still others go under the title of Sheykh Amiri followed by the name of the region where they’re traditionally played (e.g., Sheykh Amiri-e Gurân (from the Gurân area), Sheykh Amiri-e atrâf-e Sahne (from the Sahne area)). The least complex of these different versions is that of Sheykh Amir himself, and the most elaborate that of Ostad Elahi. The suite featured on the present CD comprises all the versions of Sheykh Amiri. Each of the seventeen melodies expresses a close personal relationship with the Beloved, embellished, ornamented, and integrated into a varied yet homogenous whole. The introduction, soft but dense, immediately demonstrates the superb talent and finesse of the artist.
The Sheykh Amiri piece is inherently simple but difficult to execute. In general, the song provides the matrix that enables the basic structure of the melody to be preserved while offering infinite possibilities for variation. In the case of Sheykh Amiri, however, the two do not coincide and matching song and tanbur is indeed a perilous exercise. To add to this difficulty, Ostad Elahi’s personal style consists of rich and subtle ornamentation, using shors, vibrations, vibratos, the and plucking of strings, all of which require a technique that demands extreme dexterity.1
It should not be forgotten that the tanbur uses a regular chromatic scale, and dividing the octave into twelve semitones of equal value means any melody can be played on any basic note, thereby offering an infinite number of combinations. The numerous passages occur in what seems like a random order, though it is in fact predetermined, always producing a feeling of meditation even in passages where the rhythm is tenser and less stable, especially toward the end of the piece with the passage of a perfect fifth to an augmented fifth. But calm returns with Ostad’s version. In spite of its density, this part gives a profound impression of peace—and herein lies one of the paradoxes of Ostad’s style—out of an uninterrupted flow of music and a cascade of notes emerges a feeling of serenity and gentle melancholy tinged with sweetness.
1. The shor is a roll, a tremolo typical of the Kurdish tanbur style. Ostad Elahi perfected a technique in which each finger was used autonomously, quite distinct from the others. The most frequently occurring shor consists of striking the string with the fleshy part of the fingertips of the right hand, one finger after the other, at a constant speed so as to produce a continuo.
A series of three hymns devoted to Dâwud (Dâwed in Kurdish), the manifestation of Raphael, the archangel of divine clemency and one of Soltân’s close companions.2 Ostad Elahi was especially fond of Dâwud, about whom he would say: “I rejoice when Dâwud’s name is invoked, for he is the embodiment of goodness. He has been granted permanent permission to intervene and doesn’t need to make a special request to Soltân for each individual case. Dâwud has never been observed to become angry with anyone, for he is pure goodness and kindness from head to toe.”3 Similarly, Ostad states: “There are a few people whose names bring sheer pleasure to my ears . . .: Christ, for his goodness toward all living beings . . . Dâwud, the personification of mercy, who is always there, ready to help anyone in need.”4 Ostad sings three songs one after the other, beginning with the slowest and proceeding to the most rapid, as though drawing participants into this invocation to Dâwud.
- Hey Dâwud (slow)
Hey Dâwud, giân Dâwed
O Dâwud, life Dâwud
This first appeal, charged with longing, is very rich harmonically, with numerous variations and modulations. The slow tempo makes it difficult to perform. Ostad rarely played as long as he did on this occasion. Some of those close to the musician comprise the assembly around him, and spontaneously take up the refrains when moved by the emotions of the supplication. The supplication closes with a passage on the tanbur recalling the introduction.
- Hey Dâwed (faster)
The piece begins in an almost relaxed manner, but gradually draws the listener along in its wake through its uninterrupted, insistent rhythm, offering an identical drone throughout to form an immense symbiosis between the low notes of the chant and the high ones of the chorus.
- Hey Dâwed (fast)
Hey Dâwed, Haqq giân Dâwed / Din Dâwed, imân Dâwed
O Dâwud, Haqq, life, Dâwud / Religion, Dâwud, faith, Dâwud
This very old hymn was recorded informally in the intimate context of a family gathering. No other musician or professional singer was present to help, simply a few people whose fervor gives the chorus its special quality. In spite of the rather rudimentary conditions of these recordings with a single microphone positioned haphazardly, a natural balance has been achieved between the chanting, the voices, and the instrument.
2. Soltân Sahâk (or Eshâq), founder of the mystical order of the Ahl-e Haqq, lived in the 14th century.
3. Asar ol-Haqq, vol. 1, sayings 1442, 1441.
4. Ibid., saying 1355.
This track marks a pinnacle in the art of improvisation, a kind of journey of initiation where several tunes are evoked, refreshed, placed alongside each other, ornamented, and rendered more complex, both through changes of rhythm and the counter-melody on the low register string. The instrumentalist enjoys making them talk, sing, and laugh all at once in the most disconcertingly natural way. He seems to be setting out on an adventure without any predetermined musical schema; he plucks whatever comes his way and uses it each time as the starting point for a new creation, only more complex and more finely wrought. He shapes the melodies at will, like clay softened in his hands, much like his instrument, which also becomes wax under his touch. Technical difficulties vanish, as in the two-chord passage using the Farangi chord, where improvisation is notoriously hard. Whereas each melody he alludes to is normally presented in a single block, with any omission likely to cause the whole thing to collapse, Ostad Elahi takes the liberty of moving things around, taking things out here and there and putting them elsewhere, perhaps even a second time, without ever altering the inner cohesion and harmony of the whole.
Throughout the piece, the binary and tertiary rhythms alternate smoothly. A melody usually expressed in binary rhythm makes a foray into a ternary section before completing its transformation into a new motif altogether.
Most unusually, a daf (frame drum) accompanies the tanbur here. In fact, in spite of its simplicity, the tanbur is a complete instrument in itself; the right hand marks the rhythm very clearly as well as all the desired variants, such that no other instrument is needed. This is the first recording among all the releases of Ostad Elahi on the tanbur where he has a percussion accompaniment, but its support is extremely sober and does not seek the limelight at all. The instrumentalist here is Hâdj Amin, Ostad Elahi’s eldest son. As well as being an outstanding daf player, Hâdj Amin was also an exceptional tanbur player and a connoisseur of the Kurdish dance repertoire.
CD 2
This suite, the pure expression of a profound quest wherein material preoccupations have no place, is the supplication of one who aspires solely to meeting the Beloved and reuniting with Him. The performance has moments of pure imploration calling upon the intercession of Baba Yâdegâr, Soltân’s companion and the manifestation of one of the seven archangels. His indifference to base worldly matters makes him a symbol of the esoteric aspects of the relationship with God.
The story of Âbedin is one of the accounts passed on orally in the Ahl-e Haqq tradition; it is included in The Book of the Kings of Truth, a mystical epic written around 1912 by Ostad Elahi’s father, Hadj Nematollah. Ostad himself has written a detailed commentary on this work entitled Hâshieh bar Haqq ol-Haqâieq. The story of Âbedin is as follows: A devout man at the time of Soltân had four sons, three of whom embraced the mystical faith of their father and believed in Soltân as the earthly manifestation of the divine essence. But the fourth son, Âbedin, denounced this mystical approach as heresy, placing his enthusiasm and faith in Islamic theology and jurisprudence instead. According to Âbedin, the salvation of the soul lay in the literal study of the holy texts and the rigorous application of exoteric rules. He felt such animosity toward Soltân and his followers that he even strewed thorns along the path leading to Soltân’s abode to lacerate the feet of pilgrims going to see him.
When Âbedin’s father sought Soltân’s counsel, the latter replied, “Leave your son alone. Though he doesn’t possess the same faith as your other children, his soul is even purer than theirs. The day he reaches illumination, he will become as my own son.”
A few days later, Âbedin, engrossed in his theological studies, felt a wave of heat and mystical exaltation rising within him, something he had never experienced till that day. Suddenly lifted outside of himself, he found himself projected into another dimension where the secrets of creation were revealed to him and his previous lives were disclosed to him.
When he came to, he was no longer the same man. Whatever he gazed upon, even the tiniest thing, he could feel the presence of Soltân’s essence. As though inebriated with this essence, he threw all his books and lessons into the water; they were no longer of any use to him. While all this was happening, some beautiful young women were sitting at the water’s edge. Âbedin’s teacher (a holy man) had witnessed the whole event, but thought Âbedin’s wild gestures were a reaction to seeing the beautiful young women and designed merely to attract their attention; he rebuked him, invoking punishment and divine wrath. But Âbedin’s feelings were elsewhere. His newly enlightened heart longed for different shores. In a state of exaltation, oscillating between passion and remorse, he rushed off toward the abode of his Beloved and henceforth became one of Soltân’s close companions.
In this suite, Ostad Elahi sings some lines from the long poem recounting the story of Âbedin. The instrument is tuned in fifths (Tarz). From the very start, we are plunged into the heart of a deep meditation. In spite of the reduced range of the melody in the early part of the work, it is extremely intense. The notes of the motif never follow one another in the same manner. Through ornamentation, rhythm, and phrasing and their different combinations, the whole piece is constantly renewed and recreated. The play of chromatic fifths between the lower and higher registers gives dramatic fullness to the piece, expressing the noble quality of the quest. A counter-melody played in chromatic notes on the low string imbues the work with a mood of deep longing and nostalgia, a sign of the heartrending suffered due to separation from the Beloved.
A few lyrical passages at the higher end of the scale reinforce these feelings, which are then aroused again by their seemingly obvious musical treatment in the form of the most delicate intervals (a succession of fifths, augmented fourths, a major seventh). Finally, the voice joins the instrument in its expression of this quest.
Yâr didegâni Benyâmin pira / Pir Musi vazir, Dâwed dastgira
O Friends, open your eyes, Benyamin is the leader / Pir Musi oversees the register, Dâwud is the intercessor (the succor, the savior).
Three more of Soltân’s companions are invoked with regards to their mission. In fact, in the spiritual hierarchy of the Ahl-e Haqq, several individuals guide those who are making their way toward the spiritual Ruler, the manifestation of spiritual enlightenment and Divine Truth. These include the Pir, who guides the soul, and the Dalil, who intercedes and establishes a link between the soul and the Divine Entity.
Dowre yârâna Haqq o Haqq / Rahmat wârâna Haqq o Haqq
This is the reign of God’s friends / The rain of goodness showers upon God’s friends.
The “reign of God’s friends” can have several meanings, including a period in which divine grace showers down upon God’s friends—those who genuinely love Him—like a gentle, restorative rain shower (waran).
Kâkâ Redâ was one of the close companions of Shâh Khoshin, who was among the 11th century theophanies according to the Ahl-e Haqq. It is due to Shâh Khoshin that the tanbur became the choice instrument for expressing spiritual love. The spare structure and slow tempo of the mode make it difficult to perform. There is immense delicacy in Ostad Elahi’s highly-individualized ornamentation. The language of his music is transcendent, a supplication addressed to the Beloved, an intimate conversation tinged with sweet gentleness and closeness, yet containing within it strong energy and high tension.
Seyyed Khâmush, who occupied the rank of an archangel, lived around the 15th century. His name has been attributed to a mode presenting certain analogies to Kâkâ Redâ’i, but the mystery as to its precise author remains. In general, it’s difficult to know the extent to which tunes named after holy figures were actually part of their personal creation or a tribute to them. Whatever the case may be, their music is present in the history of the Ahl-e Haqq, with nostalgia, lamentations, and the never-ending quest for the Beloved as recurring themes throughout.
The literal meaning of shân jombanak is “to move one’s shoulders.” Ostad Elahi used to say that if one could not move one’s shoulders according to the movements suggested by this dance, then one would never be able to play it properly. What’s more, he was the only person able to reproduce the rhythm to perfection on his instrument, thereby giving momentum to a whole assembly.
The scansion of the rhythm here carries listeners to new heights. The dance-like quality of the music is present throughout the work in spite of certain more nostalgic passages and those that are simply played more slowly. Ostad takes passages from several other themes, reshaping them as he likes on new rhythms. He even goes so far as to strip down the theme with a pizzicato by the left hand, before the twirl and the dance resume more beautifully.
This ancient tune from pre-Islamic times enables us to understand the amazing powers of expression reached in a tessitura as concise as a tone and a half. Indeed, the suite of three sustained semitones acting as an ostinato that this short piece gradually builds generates a tension that is truly unheard of. The apparent lack of movement is the pretext for the musician to install the dynamics of his music, using changing rhythms and a profusion of subtle embellishments that endow each note with unusual depth and relief. The listener is not accustomed to this, but whoever is willing to let himself be guided by the sounds will find they touch both mind and soul alike. It is as though a mere few notes hold both a time and a place immemorial condensed within them. The tension is somewhat relieved when a diminished fourth is reached, then right at the end of the piece, when the perfect fourth bursts through to introduce the following key, the space opens up as though suddenly filled with light.
Nakisâ and Bârbad are two characters from Ancient Persia, both famous court musicians for the Sassanid King Khosrow Parviz in the early years of the 7th century. In Kurdish gnosis, they are thought to be linked by an absolute, unfailing spiritual love, similar to the one that united Joseph and Jacob or Jesus Christ and John the Baptist. In spite of having to undergo the trials of separation, they overcame all the obstacles before them and were finally reunited. Ostad Elahi was fond of honoring their memory and would often say their names aloud when he included their melody in the middle of an improvised passage.
As with all the melodies in the Tarz mode, the Nakisâ and Bârbad Suite is weighted with nostalgic longing, for these ancient tunes are charged with the feelings and emotions of entire generations of mystics who sacrificed themselves along the path to God. In spite of its apparent simplicity, this composition is quite difficult to play, for if everything is not absolutely right (such as the harmony and rhythm), the desired effect will not be obtained. The Tarz mode requires subtlety and interiority; if performed as such, it will touch the innermost core of the listener.
Celestial Dances
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Le Chant du Monde – Harmonia Mundi
Published: 2005
Ostad Elahi’s boundless creativity and ever renewed inspiration in the art of tanbur are expressed through improvisations on the Baba Faqi and Tchappi Suites, inviting the listener to join in the celestial dance toward the source of creation.
Celestial Dances
One of the elements of Ostad’s virtuosity on the tanbur was his ability to improvise on a simple melody in many different ways, such that each improvisation would become a unique musical piece unto itself. This faculty is aptly illustrated in the Bâbâ Faqi and Tchapi suites on this recording. It was this art of improvisation that transformed his musical repertoire of over 100 different types of musical pieces into a source of ever renewed inspiration.
The story of Bâbâ Fâqi is one of the stories belonging to the Ahl-e Haqq tradition. Ostad Elahi was particularly fond of this piece and played it often, each time improvising a new variation, which required great virtuosity and mastery. The playing is light at first, in major tonalities, leading to a more poignant expression with the introduction of the Sheykh Amiri piece. This precedes the vocals that slowly lead the piece into the developments of Bâbâ Fâqi. Throughout the piece, there are allusions to many other suites and there is a smooth and continuous succession of different modes, revealing total freedom in the rendering of the piece.
The transitions eventually lead to the Jang Ârâ piece, a part of the Jelo Shâhi suite. The theme of this piece depicts the preparations for, and feverish anticipation of, a great event: the coming of the theophany—the height of the spiritual quest for seekers of Truth—expressed by the words “Shâhm âma” (“My King has come”). Combined with a quick and light melody, the lively rhythm and persistent bass of the tanbur gradually contribute to creating an intense spiritual emotion among the listeners.
The term Samâ can have two meanings: either “audition” in the sense of spiritual audition, or “cosmic dance.” According to the great Persian mystic and poet Mowlânâ Rumi, “The Samâ is only a part of the eternal dance that the soul is destined to join someday. Every creature partakes in this cosmic dance. . . .” Based on Ostad’s description of the universal process of perfection that animates all of creation, this piece is inspired by a beautiful choreography: from the initial descent from the Source to the ascending movement of return that lifts beings to their perfection, every level of creation is involved in this celestial dance.
Translated literally, Qara chupi (qara: black, chupi: dance), means “dance in black clothes.” This dance is performed by some Iranian Kurds when a close relative passes away. The apparent mortuary symbolism of this piece is strangely in contrast with its lively tempo, and one may wonder why Ostad has linked a mourning dance to the celestial dance of Samâ, which is an exultation of life in all its forms, a life that is endless and eternally in motion.
This recording dates back to the early 50s and is one of the most ancient recordings of Ostad’s music. Slow and meditative at first, almost an incantation, the suite gradually becomes more animated. Ostad plays on three registers simultaneously (low, medium, and sharp) and superimposes “layers” of overlapping melodies, with persistent sounds that create a universe of harmonies utterly foreign to any established rules. The radical and unpredictable changes of rhythm do not, however, alter the cohesion of the piece. This musical language is both quite puzzling and strangely familiar. It seems that one is always hearing it for the first time, recognizing elements of a structure that is undoubtedly solid and fully mastered, but nevertheless difficult to completely grasp and comprehend.
In Ostad Elahi’s repertoire, the Tchapi suite is often played in a developed form or as a passing reference within another suite. Like every other piece, it is never played in the same way. The five-string tanbur produces a multitude of different tones: sometimes dry and metallic, sometimes soft and velvety; sometimes round and full, and other times snappy like percussions. All the technical possibilities of the instrument are used here. It was in reference to this piece that Ostad once remarked that everything that exists bears an ever-lasting effect.
Cascade
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Le Chant du Monde – Harmonia Mundi
Published: 2002
Edition: Reissued 2004
In the context of the intimate “Qatar” mode of classical Persian music, Ostad Elahi is inspired with a fluid cascade of original Persian and Kurdish motifs on the five-stringed tanbur.
Cascade
Approximately forty minutes in length, the Qatâr suite rendered here is considered among the most complete recordings that remain of Ostad’s music. This mode provides not only the opening and closing themes, but also interspersed pieces played in their entirety that develop on these themes. Certain modes give the impression of transpositions of the Qatâr into the fourth or fifth; others offer variations on this principal mode, and still others are transposed into the chromatics of this mode. The whole is finely developed and linked into a suite. It should be noted, however, that this suite is not an improvisation. Although the whole of the suite is played in a restricted interval, the harmony is enriched by all kinds of extensions and alterations, at times translating into daring intervals such as a diminished fourth.
As was often the case with Ostad, the foundation is used to reinforce and add complexity to the harmonic effects, introducing a sort of counter-chant that acts like a prism, refracting and modifying with each note change and casting light on the piece as a whole. The singular use of the bass string allows for certain expressive effects, like the sensations of profound pain that the tanbur suggests when Ostad plays a note even deeper than the bass of a bell, or the suspension of time when the bass remains silent and the bell ceases to resonate, but the rhythm continues to be marked, permitting unusual modulations and the transition from one set of chromatics to another. Accentuation and repetition of notes, pure and ornamented motifs, breaks in harmony and rhythm, alternation of melodic fragments and organized flights, disconnections and continuous flows: all converge to form a veritable aesthetic discourse that Ostad builds and structures based upon a heterogenous musical subject that maximizes the potential of his instrument. “The tanbur speaks,” he said to one of his students, “listen to it.”
Ostad was well-versed in the techniques and repertories of instruments in the Persian classical tradition. The influence of the classical tradition became perceptible in his playing of the tanbur, which in turn inspired his interpretation of pieces in the classical Persian repertory. Seeking to achieve a synthesis of the Persian and Kurdish lutes (the setâr and târ, respectively), he designed and built an original instrument—a tanbur with five strings—that enabled him to integrate the characteristic techniques of the setâr and the tanbur. It was on this five-string tanbur, which he alone could play, that Ostad expresses himself here in a piece entitled the Qatâr suite.
The term Qatâr covers a wide range of meanings. Depending on the context, it can mean advancement, train, caravan, convoy, chain, link, or liaison. In addition to being the name of a musical mode in the repertory of the classical Iranian tradition, Qatâr also designates an ancient modal suite that provides the origins of the modern mode, whose resonances can be heard echoing in certain peculiarities in Ostad’s playing. The Qatâr mode is a profound, intimate mode that is not very rhythmic, evoking a sense of prayer and contemplation. What is remarkable here is the way in which Ostad fleshes out his interpretation of some twenty pieces that he describes as being in the Qatâr mode, playing them in the aura, tonality, and tuning characteristic of Qatâr while connecting one piece to the next with the fluidity of a cascade.
Mystical Orison
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Le Chant du Monde – Harmonia Mundi
Published: 2000
Edition: Reissued 2004
Several great spiritual figures of the mystical tradition of Western Iran, including Shah Khoshini, Baba Faqi, Baba Sarhang, and Baba Na’usi, most of whom lived between the 10th and 15th centuries, are evoked on this CD through a continuous succession of pieces paying tribute to them. The listener is immersed in the intimacy of a mystical orison of remarkable strength and authenticity, as witnessed by the audience who is eventually overwhelmed with emotion.
Mystical Orison
Eluding the usual genres, the music of Ostad Elahi (1895-1974) is difficult to categorize: it is at once spiritual yet secular, for it integrates elements of the non-sacred repertoire; mystical yet unconstrained by ritual, for Ostad would generally play alone or in the presence of family members and close friends; traditional yet innovative, for Ostad recreated not only the style and technique of playing the tanbur, but also the very instrument itself.
Having learned the art of tanbur from early childhood, Ostad considered music as a means of expressing the soul’s spiritual states and passion for the Divine: “Music connects us to the Divine, for music is related to the soul, and the soul is related to God.” Indeed, the metaphysical dimension of music is quite evident on this recording, as various pieces follow one another in a long, intimate orison, ultimately culminating in a state of rapture and connection with the Source.
As the music progresses, the listener experiences a wide range of mystical emotions—nostalgia, imploration, edification, joy—supported at times by eloquent poetry that conjures up powerful images. At the end of the prayer, the listener is overwhelmed as he suddenly finds himself in the presence of his Lord or Spiritual King (Track 5, Jelo Shâhi (“Before the King”)). The emotion of the audience and the manifestations of pure spiritual joy clearly heard on this recording bear witness to the strength of Ostad Elahi’s music and the spiritual states it evoked within the listeners.
The pieces played here originate from the ancient repertoire of the mystical tradition of Western Iran. Several prominent figures of this tradition are invoked, most of whom lived between the 10th and 15th centuries.
Shâh Khoshin, an 11th century mystic who lived in Iranian Lorestan, inaugurated the tanbur as the choice instrument for expressing spiritual love. It is said that he would gather large numbers of musicians and perform spiritual concerts of extraordinary strength and splendor. This recitative piece relies on a strong rhythmic framework as Ostad’s soft touch creates an intimate atmosphere conducive to reflection and prayer. The rhythm becomes increasingly prominent, the ornamentations more numerous, and the expressions more intensified, as Ostad begins to sing the following verses in a low voice:
Dardam az dûst, imânam az dûst
Khoshin batchah nâni âzâdeh darvish
Khoshin batchah nâni âzâdeh darvish
Hezârân tir-e bâteni yâ dûst dirim dar tarkish
Har kas az kâr-e shâh khoshin shak âvarad pish
Palangâsash zanam sâfi nawu rish
The source of my sorrow stems from the Beloved
The object of my faith is the Beloved
Khoshin is pure like a child and free like a dervish (repeated)
A thousand mystical arrows have we in our quiver
Whomever doubts Shâh Khoshin
Will be deprived of His light forever.
Then, in the second part:
Seyyed sarvar, khoshin batchah nâ ni
Seyyed sarvar, khoshin batchah nân seyyed sarvar
Din-pâk mâ dârim mazhab-e Ja`far
Lord and Master, Shâh Khoshin is as pure as a child (repeated)
We are of the pure faith of Jafar.1
1. The sixth Imam in the Twelver Shia tradition.
Dardam az dûst, darmânam az Dûst
Kofram az khod, imânam az Dûst
Gar tchon Nasimi bekananâm pûst,
Dast bar nadâram ze dâman-e Dûst
Dardam az Haqq, darmânam az Haqq
Kofram az khod, imânam az Haqq
Gar tchon zakariâ marâ konnand shaq,
Dast bar nadâram ze dâman-e Haqq
Dardam az Yâr, darmânam az Yâr
Kofram az khod, imânam az Yâr[Gar tchon Mansûr vir marâ keshand dâr,
Dast barnâdâram ze dâman-e Yâr]2
Dardam az Heydar, darmânam az Heydar
Kofram az khod, imânam az Heydar
Gar tchon tork-e sar boriâ beborânam sar,
dast barnadâram ze dâman-e Heydar
The source of my ailment stems from the Beloved
My cure lies with the Beloved
The source of my disbelief stems from my own self
The source of my faith is the Beloved
If, like Nasimi, they should skin me alive
I shall not renounce the Beloved, no, I shall not renounce
The source of my ailment stems from the Truth
My cure lies with the Truth
The source of my disbelief stems from my own self
The source of my faith is the Truth
If, like Zachary, they should saw me in half
I shall not renounce the Truth, no, I shall not renounce
The source of my ailment stems from the Friend
My cure lies with the Friend
The source of my disbelief stems from my own self
The source of my faith is the Friend[If, like Mansûr, they should hang me on the gallows
I shall not renounce my Friend, no, I shall not renounce]
The source of my ailment stems from Heydar3
My cure lies with Heydar
The source of my disbelief stems from my own self
The source of my faith is Heydar
If, like Tork-e Sar Boriâ, they should behead me,
I shall not renounce Heydar, no, I shall not renounce
2. In this version, Ostad Elahi did not sing the two verses in brackets.
3. One of the names of Ali, the great saint of the Shia tradition and son-in-law of the prophet Muhammad. In this context, Heydar evokes the reflection of the divinity.
Named after a saint who lived prior to Shâh Khoshin, the major intervals of this piece give it a clear and gentle tone, resulting in a degree of calmness after the poignant expressions of the previous piece. It is interesting to note that in the middle of this piece, Ostad tunes his tanbur without interrupting his playing. The voice first invokes the presence of the Beloved, “Shâdi kan ey shâdi” (“Joy! 0 soul, rejoice [for He is here!])” before warning those who deny Him: “Fekr û ruw kan, nyan jâ-ye hâshâ. Tchawy emruw nawinu, kay nawinu fardâ” (“Think of the day when you can no longer deny, for how can the eye that cannot see today, see tomorrow?”).
This very short but majestic piece is dedicated to Bâbâ Nâ’us, who lived a century after Shâh Khoshin.
Though Ostad often played this suite, never did he play it the same way twice.4 Every rhythm, every melody, every progression evokes the rites, movements, and different stages of an exalted mystical ceremony, from the preliminary preparations to the actual arrival of the long awaited Spiritual King. Several images inevitably form in the mind of the listener: The gathering and anticipation of the hosts, the cavaliers approaching on galloping horses, and the glorious spiritual feast itself, which ends with two chants addressed to the Divine:
Amân sad âmân’ Ali vâ âmân-e ku
Ye dast-e imas’ Ali vâ dâmân-e to
I implore you, forever and always, O Ali
Rescue the souls of your friends
Wholeheartedly we grasp onto your robe, O Ali.
Wa fadây manzel gât’ Ali
Pây sheykhânet bâm
Nazr-e tchâwâkay’ Ali
Jâm jahânet bâm
Dinam dina, shâm Khoshina
Shâd bây ke shâdam kardani
Wa pay Shender Kuh ‘Ali feyzam dâdani
My all I will give when I find You, O Ali
I found You at Sheykhân5
My all I will give for Your eyes, O Ali, which behold the universe
My religion is The Religion, my King is Shâh Khoshin
Rejoice, O You who have filled me with joy
At the foothill of Mount Shender6, O Ali, You bestowed Your grace.
4. See CD, The Celestial Music of Ostad Elahi,” Le Chant du Monde/Harmonia Mundi, 1996.
5. The shrine of Soltân Eshâq, where Ostad would often travel on pilgrimage.
6. Mount Shender is located near the shrine of Soltân Eshâq.
Celestial Harmonies
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Le Chant du Monde – Harmonia Mundi
Published: 1999
Edition: Reissued 2004
This CD unveils another facet of Ostad Elahi’s music: his improvisations not only on the setar and the tanbur, which each have their own specific techniques, but also on a five-string tanbur that he himself created, probably to realize a synthesis between the Persian and Kurdish lutes. Some of the pieces are also chanted. The combination of such inimitable style, mysterious tones, and audacious dissonances takes the listener into uncharted territories.
Celestial Harmonies
Having mastered both the sacred and secular Kurdish musical traditions, Ostad continued to broaden his art through encounters with different musicians as he traveled to various towns and provinces in Iran. In addition to the ancient repertoire of the tanbur, he was already familiar with classical Persian music, which he had studied under some of the greatest masters in Tehran, including Darvish Khan and Abolhasan Saba. He also knew basic melodies of the Azeri tchoghur (or sâz) and traditional Kurdish tunes, particularly the dances of the oboe (zurna) players.
It was probably the desire to achieve a synthesis of the Kurdish and Persian lutes—the setâr and the tanbur—and their specific playing techniques that led Ostad to design a special five-stringed tanbur with two double strings and one single string. Ostad would perform Persian and Kurdish melodies interchangeably on this instrument, which was characterized by a mysterious tone, as well as his own compositions and improvisations.
Although the pieces performed on the five-stringed tanbur reveal the same subtleties and expressive intensity as those on the three-stringed tanbur, they appear in a new light here, deepened and intensified. Ostad Elahi makes use of all the polyphonic possibilities offered by this instrument as he does with the setâr, doubling certain patterns to produce parallel fourths while integrating dissonance through daring finger techniques. His intimate relationship with his instrument and the absence of any inhibition are the secret behind his music, power, and audacity, which at times seem to part even from the tradition of middle-eastern music. Moreover, the two double-strings and one single-string on this instrument is so fretted that, like the ancient târ, it allows for Persian scales with three or five quarter-tones, as well as Kurdish scales with tones and semitones. When traditional Kurdish tunes are transposed to these Persian scales, they assume a particular quality that is occasionally enhanced by unexpected dissonances.
Ostad would play his special five-stringed tanbur when he sought to express his mystical love through music, raising it to the level of an intimate prayer to the Beloved. Alternating between high and low registers, he would present a melodic dialogue that provided listeners with the impression of witnessing a private conversation he referred to as “call and response.”
Ostad Elahi called this joyful melody, whose inspiration came to him during a forty-day spiritual pilgrimage to Ali’s memorial in Najaf, Iraq the “Najaf Melody” (Ahang-e Najaf). Incorporating passages from the Sahari and Gol wa khar tunes, Ostad would play this melody either alone, as a central theme for other melodies, or as a linking pattern designed to ornament various modes. An “expansive” melody that shoots toward new horizons before returning to the original theme, it can be accompanied by secondary tunes or incorporated in them. This track is from a recorded session that took place in a family setting where nothing had been prepared or planned in advance: Ostad picked up his instrument, a microphone was placed before him, a recorder was turned on, and people sat and listened.
Though permeated with a profound nostalgia, this piece is actually quite elating. The consonant harmonies in the major tonality create a bright and positive mood. Ostad draws upon a variety of playing techniques, at times playing on all strings with all fingers, at other times only with one finger, thereby creating varied harmonic effects and a rich polyphony.
This piece is given an unexpected and original interpretation, reminiscent at times of the variations on the same theme found in the Najaf melody (see Track 1). Although it is a modal piece, dominant and tonic alternate. The first section is prolonged by a prayer Ostad Elahi particularly liked, inspired by a basic melody (gushe) of classical Iranian music called Mansuri. The sung text is a prayer from Shâh Khoshin, a great Kurdish saint from the 11th century who elevated the tanbur to a sacred level.
In this prayer, the poet expresses his exclusive love for the divine:
You were my beginning, You will be my end
You have drawn me from a drop of water
I care not about Your paradise or Your hell
My only hope is that You will always be with me.
The melody in the next section was arranged by Ostad Elahi based on verses from Pir Razbar, a highly revered Kurdish saint of the 14th century. Her poetry expresses the spiritual state of those who travel across the “plain” of passion in search of the divine, overwhelmed by divine love to the point of directly invoking Him in simple words, which begin as follows:
Eshq-e Haqq wa sar sheet-e witânâ
Tche manzelgâtân kâm djâdjitâna
They are in love with Truth, those whom we call enamored with God
What place shall you hold in eternity?
This section is followed by Mobârak Bâdâ. A change of color and atmosphere transpires, as the overall tone becomes more nostalgic. Several themes are brought together in a passage rich with polyphonies, harmonies, nuances, and rhythmical shifts. This, in turn, is followed by a variant of Zang-e Shotori—a soft, melodic, and serene piece whose gentle swaying reminds one of the marching of camels in a caravan. This musical form exists in classical Persian music as well.
Several tunes are strung together here:
Ali âmân yâ Ali / Dakhilem wa to Ali
Ali, help, 0 Ali / Upon You I rely, Ali1
This verse is followed by Chapi, a dance tune, which serves as a linking pattern to the next tune.
Yâ Soltân âmân agerem da’i
O Soltan, mercy, You have set me aflame!
This verse was composed by Ostad. The Chapi theme keeps returning throughout this improvisation, as new forms emerge at every moment in a dazzling proliferation of sonorities.
1. The name of Ali in this context refers to the manifestation of the divine; Ostad sometimes invoked the name “Soltân” as well.
Ostad Elahi had a small Persian setâr he had named bolbol (nightingale), which was a replica of his five-stringed tanbur, only smaller. A travel instrument with a flat body, he would almost always take it with him on his trips. The manner in which he played this instrument defied all expectations, for he would freely combine techniques specific to the tanbur (the rolling of the fingers on all strings) with those of the setâr (using one finger only). This style of playing became especially popular among setâr players who followed him. Here, Ostad is playing in an intimate family setting during the last years of his life (in the early 1970s). Despite the poor recording quality, this piece captures the spiritual fervor that united the participants.
Amân Sad Amân
This song was composed by Hadj Nematollah, Ostad Elahi’s father, at the onset of his illumination around 1901. Its lyrics, which invoke the Creator’s attribute of mercy, are a kind of petition addressed to the Spiritual King or Beloved:
Amân sad amân, shâye karamdârân
Karam kheyli key, wa hâl-e yârân
Have Mercy, O Merciful King
Bless Your companions with Your Grace
Ey Dervish Dervish
This song was also composed by Hadj Nematollah during the same period. It is addressed to the Spiritual Lord, referred to here as a dervish, for it appears that Hadj Nematollah witnessed the Beloved in the guise of a dervish and composed this song in praise of Him:
Ey dervish dervish, imânam dervish
Ez va fedât bam, pây benyâr wa pish
O Dervish, O Dervish, my faith rests in You
My life is Yours, come to me, come!
Soltân Sahâki
The music and lyrics of this song were composed by Ostad Elahi:
Soltân Sahâki Ali giân
Shih taniâ taki Ali giân
You are Soltân Sahâk, O beloved Ali
You alone are King, O beloved Ali
Only the melody is played here.
Shirina Leylâ
Initially, this soft melody was used to accompany a hymn by Hadj Nematollah: “The world is ephemeral, O beloved Dâwud / Only Truth will remain, O beloved Dâwud,” in reference to the Quranic verse that states: “All that is on earth will perish, but abide (forever) will the Face of thy Lord, full of Majesty, Bounty, and Honor.”2
Although dedicated to Dâwud, the archangel of mercy, this hymn invokes the divine attributes of Majesty and Rigor, so that when performed by a group it was considered to be ominous. During one of his trips to the west regions of Iran, Ostad Elahi modified the lyrics and turned this a hymn of mourning into one of joy:
Shirina leylânâ leylânâ
Shirina khoria vey mikâna
It is here that we have tasted sweetness . . .
2. 55: 26-7.
Ostad Elahi had translated a prayer by Hazrat Ali3 from the original Arabic into Persian and Kurdish. For several months, he would sing it every day upon awakening. Later, he would quote certain verses of this prayer when playing the tanbur. Here, he sings an excerpt of it in its original Arabic version, interspersed with short invocations in Persian: Alijân, âmân (O Beloved Ali, help me) in the Mansuri mode (tchahârgâh dastgâh). This recording dates back to 1965 when Ostad Elahi was seventy years old. Below is a translation of a few of the verses:
Praise to You, benevolent and glorious Lord
You who knows all that is hidden or revealed
My Creator, my Refuge, my Support
It is You that I implore, in hardship and in fortune
No matter how great my failings, Your forgiveness is greater still
I have succumbed to temptation, now I am plagued by remorse
O God, hear my plea
For You know how miserable and destitute I am.
Chanted sequences of a deep lyrical character, to which the tanbur answers in kind, alternate throughout this piece with rhythmic sequences and a leitmotif (minor third). The combination of these various elements—rhythm, leitmotif, repetition of ornamented notes, and unfamiliar harmonies—produces a state of elation. The second section of this piece, a sort of Zang-e Shotori4 followed by a stirring hymn or zekr (Ali Hu Hu …), inspires one with an irresistible movement.
3. A great saint of the Shiite tradition and the son-in-law of the prophet Mohammad.
4. See track 2.
Chapi is part of the Kurdish dance repertoire. It is played in the context of festivities or to express spiritual enthusiasm. This is one of the earliest recordings of Ostad Elahi’s music: It was made in 1960 without his knowledge behind the closed door of the room where he had been playing for about an hour. The quality of the recording is naturally very poor, but the interpretation of Chapi presented here clearly justifies its inclusion in this selection. The listener is carried into a thrilling dance rhythm that is sustained throughout this masterly improvisation. Although Chapi often appears in Ostad Elahi’s playing (whether as a central piece or as a passage), it takes on a different form each time. In the present case, it is played on a Persian scale with a neutral third, endowing it with a particular quality.
A Spiritual Epic
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Le Chant du Monde – Harmonia Mundi
Published: 1998
Edition: Reissued 2006
A compilation of some of Ostad Elahi’s most beautiful improvisations on the tanbur. The solemnity and majesty of the Tarz-e Yari and Saru Khani suites, both played in the same mode, are followed by the dance rhythms of Tan Amiri and Pa Kotaki, evoking joy and ecstasy. As heard on this CD, one of the characteristics of Ostad Elahi’s art was that he would pay tribute to the great figures of the Kurdish and Persian mystical traditions through musical modes specifically dedicated to them.
A Spiritual Epic
While it was unusual to see Ostad play for more than twenty minutes—the density of his playing and the impact of his music were too intense to exceed that threshold—the pieces on this disc create the impression of a continuous performance in that they succeed one another in the most natural way possible, beginning with slow, solemn, majestic, or sorrowful pieces (with low fifth-chords) and ending with dance tunes that suggest joy and ecstasy. Although these pieces were extracted from different performances, the first two follow each other in a logical way due to their modal similarity.
The key idea that governs this whole selection is that of narration—not the narration of events, but that of the fundamental states of the soul: Loss, nostalgia, separation, as well as union and return. The primary emotion or original trauma is that of separation and exile. The epic of the soul begins with a painful entry into the dimensions of time and space, one that is inseparable from the nostalgia of a time before time, and a space beyond space.
Tarz is a generic term that literally means “rule, manner, or way.” In Ostad Elahi’s repertoire, it also refers to a sequence of tunes belonging to the category of ancient and mystical melodies, only a few of which are performed here. They all rest on a C C♯ D chromatic modal nucleus, which makes them technically and aesthetically unique (these notes are transcribed one and a half tone higher than they are actually played).
The atmosphere surrounding the Tarz mode is solemn, gradually livening as it reaches the higher register. It suggests an archaic or primitive melodic world prior to the invention of scales, an introverted emotional stage where singing was still confined to the narrow register of speech. This expressive archaism is probably the manifestation of a cultural trait. The Tarz mode only exists in Kurdistan and Pamir, two regions that have been particularly well-preserved from external influences and are still characterized by many of the cultural patterns of ancient and pre-Islamic Iran. Indeed, Tarz stands out as a totally unusual musical form in the Middle-Eastern modal tradition.
Immediately conjuring up the idea of something very ancient and fundamental, the Tarz mode’s chromatic notes seem to echo a sort of prehistoric music, its melody resembling speech more than singing. Played on the lowest chords and notes, its rhythm is neither measured nor totally free. While these features as a whole allow for a strong narrative potential, the true domain of Tarz is that of interiority, intimacy, and secrecy. The various phases of the improvisation draw on fundamental mystical themes, while the hidden anguish of separation lurks in the background.
(A) Before engaging in his narrative, the traditional storyteller would begin with: “Once upon a time,” to which he would sometimes add, “There was no one by God” (Yeki boud, yeki naboud, gheyr az khodâ, heech kas naboud). It is with the latter part of this phrase that the tanbur appears to open the narrative, the memory of a time before creation when, according to the mystical gnosis to which this music constantly refers, the universe was empty except for the Seven Archangels absorbed in the ecstasy of contemplating God. According to the traditional myth of the Creation, the seven Archangels had to relinquish their celestial universe and descend to earth, for the principle of the process of spiritual perfection required that they experience human existence to fulfill their mission. This is how a vast spiritual epic began, traces of which can be found in the books, sacred scriptures, and oral traditions of the various revealed religions. The recurrent principle is that of separation from divine proximity, followed by a long quest for the Beloved that eventually culminates in the ecstasy of reunion.
The first theme is called Tarz-e-Yâri (Tarz of the Companions of the Beloved). Composed of seven parts, an allusion to the Archangels, it is a nostalgic evocation of pre-eternity accompanied by the sighs of separation. The first of these parts was transmitted to Ostad by his father, Hadj Nematollah.
The ancient melodies from which Ostad Elahi would draw inspiration for his compositions and improvisations were generally mere patterns or schemes for the cantillation of sacred texts. Although accompanying these texts with the tanbur provided them with an artistic touch, the playing of this instrument had never been developed to the point where it could be considered as an art in its own right.
In classical Indian music, the sign of high mastery is not so much the virtuosity that one might display in the performance of rhythmic pieces with fast tempos as it is the creativity and self-restrained power required by the slowest and most expansive phases of the alap. If Ostad’s art is particularly impressive during the sequences of high virtuosity, it stands out even more forcefully with the minimal pattern of the three chromatic notes of Tarz, to which he manages to confer an unexpected depth. In fact, no tanbur player has ever been able to develop the expressive potential of these few notes in such a powerful manner. One of Ostad’s many devices consisted in blurring the vibration of the lower note instead of allowing it resonate “in the void,” resulting in the formation of an iridescent halo around the principal theme. It was after hearing Ostad improvise on a similar melody that Yehudi Menuhin stated in an interview: “This extraordinary musician was able to maintain a tension and concentration [throughout the piece] that I never imagined possible in the limited interval of a fourth or a fifth. . . . Never had I heard anything like it; it is the first time I experienced such an effect. . . . It was very sensitive, very powerful music, and at the same time very precise and pure. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, its refined power, exactly like some sort of laser. . . .”
(B) The second theme introduces two characters from ancient Iran: Nakisâ and Bârbad, the minstrels of Shah Khosrow Parviz. Tales of these two great artists still resonate in the memory of Iranian culture, especially those of Bârbad, who is believed to have developed the most ancient musical system known in inner Asia. In Kurdish gnosis, they are considered to be initiates bound by a total and unshakeable spiritual love, such as that of Jacob and Joseph, or John the Baptist and Jesus. Their most painful ordeal was separation, although after many hardships they were eventually reunited. While Ostad Elahi’s music can be considered an art of sounds animated by a purely esthetical concern, leaving aside norms of tradition, it should be noted that he would often mention the title of the theme he was playing in the middle of his improvisations. The fact that he specifically mentioned the names of Nakisâ and Bârbad when playing their melody is a clear indication that his intention was to honor their memory and to recall their tribulations with an edificatory purpose.
It should be noted that two modes, E F G Ab Bb and E Eb Db C, follow each other with a free rhythm, each representing one of the characters. After a dialogue, the two melt into one another.
(C) Sheen-e-Tarz expresses the grief and distress of separation, the weeping and moaning that accompany the torment. Yet, as this grief is a totally spiritual one, the melody deliberately stands beyond all conventional forms of expression. Ostad does not use the traditional analogical means of expression such as rhythm and harmony, instead making symbolic use of his musical material. After the slow undulations of Tarz, a tidal wave of transcendent acoustic density overwhelms the listener with the experience of separation as one of pure intensity. Ostad’s right hand whips the strings, while his left stretches them to their limit, producing incredible sonorities. This is a fundamental dimension Of Ostad’s art, one that draws its expressive power from the distillation of energetic flows into precise bursts of sonic intensity.
(D) At last, the two friends rejoin and exchange confidences (Râz o niâz) on the scale E F♯ G♯. The final piece is Zamzame-ye Tarz (Tarz whisper), a sweet melody that announces the return to the point of departure, with a Gb F E Eb Db C (Bb A) modulation.
This recording was made on a spring afternoon at Ostad’s house in Tehran in 1966, in the presence of two of his children and four or five close friends.
This modal melody bears the name of its saintly author or transmitters and belongs to the category of tunes that have a purely mystical and devotional origin. One of the most popular songs of the religious tradition of Eastern Kurdistan, it is said to celebrate mystical love, although unlike many other songs in which one engages in an intimate dialogue with oneself, Sâru Khâni is characterized by an important narrative and discursive aspect. The internal rhythm is that of language itself, bearing an articulation very close to declamation; therefore, it is quite remote from the whispers and moans typical of other pieces of the same sort. This tune can be easily coupled with classical Persian poetry (with alternating patterns of long and short vowels), whether lyrical, didactic, or narrative.
As is generally the case with the performance of bards, instrumental patterns are introduced between two declamations, during which it is still possible to hum a few words. In Sâru Khâni, the three-beat intermediary theme (Zang-e-Shotori) suggests the gallop of a camel and is accompanied by the recitation of divine names such as Haqq and Ali. After Sâru Khâni, Ostad interprets in a restrained manner a variant of Halparka, a dance with a rhythm of ten brief beats (3+2/2+3).
A two-beat dance called Shân Jombanak (literally, moving one’s shoulders) concludes this improvisation. Ostad used to say that this tune could not be played correctly unless the shoulders were moved in the proper manner. This sequence was recorded at Ostad’s house sometime in the late sixties during an evening gathering of fifteen to twenty people. Following his talk with his spiritual students, Ostad would often start playing before tape recorders could be turned on. This was the case that particular evening, which is why the recording starts shortly after the beginning of the introduction. Unfortunately, it was not possible to eliminate dropout error and noises that occasionally mar the course of this masterful performance.
This theme was also probably inherited from a saintly figure who gave it his name. As in the case of Tarz, this melody sounds like it has traveled a long way, for it is both ancient and archaic in character. The scale on which it rests does not abide by the diatonic logic of eastern musical traditions, but is instead made of a succession of intervals of tones or semi-tones: (C) D E F G Ab Bb Cb Db . . ., so much so that the melody never reaches the exact D or C octave, either coming close to it (Cb) or surpassing it (Db). In addition, the alternating tones and semi-tones are sometimes dissonant with the counterpoint of the lower string. Only in the concluding part, with the return to the low note (C), do the tensions built up by the melody finally resolve in a peaceful way. The original core of the melody revolved around a series of notes, F G Ab Bb, but Ostad expanded this theme by more than an octave.
This piece is merely the concluding part of a much longer improvisation, the first part of which was omitted for technical reasons. Nonetheless, it is indicative of another facet of Ostad Elahi’s art: The ability to create a profoundly intimate atmosphere akin to personal prayer or meditation even when playing in front of a dozen of his relatives or students, as was the case here. (Among the two or three words that he is humming, the only one that can be clearly distinguished is din, which means faith or conviction.) From early childhood until the end of his life, music was a means of communication with the suprasensible, a means of addressing God and sharing his experiences. Ostad used to say: “A musician must consider music as a means of delving within, discovering truths, and reaching divine love, not as a means of achieving fame and glory.”
It may seem curious that dance tunes belonging to the secular dimension of life play such a prominent role in a spiritual repertoire. The domains of the secular and the sacred are not as clear-cut in eastern culture as they are in the occidental world, however, and in fact are interwoven. Similarly, the boundary between spiritual and merely human emotions is not always evident, and it is the intention that defines their true nature in every case. After all, it is always possible for an artist to divert a given form from its original purpose and use it according to his needs. In any case, it would be contrary to the principles of spiritual ecology to reduce musical expression to a single purpose such as meditation or dance, or to one type of mood such as nostalgia or tenderness. The playing of Ostad embodies the principle of opposites. As he states: “Antipodal states are necessary for the soul, which is why ancient melodies always come in pairs: An impassioned melody is followed by a sweet melody; a jubilant melody is followed by a nostalgic air, etc.”1 Hence, it is not rare in spiritual gatherings to hear dance tunes identical to those heard at weddings (which generally have a sacred aspect) or celebrations of important figures.
While it is no longer the suffering of being distanced from the Beloved that speaks here, the prevailing feeling is not the elation of union, either. Rather, it is a restrained joy, an intense but regulated vital force. This impression is mainly conveyed by the rhythm, with its seven beats pulsating throughout the whole improvisation with the precision of a quartz metronome. This tension and rigorous progression are not incompatible with a form of sensory exhilaration that can carry a listener to the verge of ecstasy.
This improvisation rests on the theme and rhythmical matrix of a certain Kurdish dance, of which there are about ten different versions. In this particular one, the dancers are gathered in a circle, waving a handkerchief or linking arms. It is named Pâye Kubi (literally, hitting the ground with one’s foot) in reference to its special steps. Once the theme is exposed, Ostad adapts several two-beat melodies to his 7/8 rhythm—Chapi (on E), Sahari (F G Ab Bb Cb Db) and Gol va Khâr—before returning to the initial theme. Not content with simply stringing these pieces together one after the other, he actually combines and weaves them together.
Most of these pieces are usually played on the zurna (oboe) or the dozale (double clarinet), accompanied by a powerful dohol (drum). It seems that prior to Ostad these pieces were never played on the tanbur. One of his innovations, therefore, was to adapt these tunes for the tanbur and to create ornamentation typical of wind instruments for the lute. The performance of these tunes on the tanbur requires a technique of an unprecedented kind. The most remarkable thing, however, is the set of daring and even modernist technical devices through which Ostad manages to reach a level of musical intensity that is scarcely conceivable on a simple three-stringed lute. At some point, it seems that another voice makes itself heard, perhaps that of the “celestial tanbur,” which he would say occasionally accompanied his own instrument. This piece was recorded at Ostad’s home on April 6th, 1964, on the occasion of a religious feast.
1. Asar ol-Haqq, vol. 2, p. 360.
The Paths of Divine Love
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Le Chant du Monde – Harmonia Mundi
Published: 1997
Edition: Reissued 2004
The quest for Divine Love is the theme that runs throughout each of the pieces found on this CD. Love, passion, and the pain of separation from the Creator is evoked in the Tarz and Shah Hoseyni Suites, as is the progression toward Divine love in the Haft Khan-e Rostam Suite. In the final piece, Hal Parka, the listener witnesses the ecstasy of the encounter with the Beloved. Unusual chromaticisms and harmonic and rhythmic subtleties follow one another in endless creativity.
The Paths of Divine Love
The quest for divine love is omnipresent in Persian mystical poetry and is manifest in all of the pieces presented in this recording. The passionate love the soul experiences as it becomes conscious of the distance separating it from its Beloved, along with the pain caused by this separation, is clearly depicted in the Tarz and Shâh Hoseyni suites. It is a love that guides the soul step by step along the path of perfection in the progression suggested by the Haft Khan-e Rostam suite. Upon arriving at the destination, this love is perpetually renewed and drives the seeker through all the levels of ecstasy in a state of absolute freedom of expression and creativity, a state evoked in the Hal Parka suite. As Ostad states, “Let us seek a love that is eternal, a spring that knowns no autumn, a flower that never fades. God alone is at once Love and the Beloved.”1
1. Ostad Elahi, Traces of Truth, vol. 1, 5th ed. (Tehran: Nashr-e Panj, 2007).
Farangi (“Frank” or “European”) here means foreign. One speaks of Farangi tuning (kuk-e farangi) when the tanbur is tuned in seconds instead of the usual fourths, producing an unusual aura and an ethereal atmosphere. Consequently, this tune suggests intriguing, strange, and marvelous things from the spiritual world.
Rarely found among oriental lutes belonging to the same family as the tanbur, this tuning was introduced to the tanbur by Ostad. With the help of the thumb playing the low string, it made possible numerous modal refinements. Integrating some patterns of the Jelo Shâhi melody, Ostad returns to the original rhythm and theme, without breaking the overall continuity.
Rostam was a legendary Iranian hero whose story is recounted in the famous Book of Kings by the Persian poet Ferdowsi (932-1020). As guardian of the Throne and Crown, Rostam is a fearless warrior who derives his incredible physical strength from his unwavering faith in God. As he sets out to rescue his king, whose excessive pride has led him to conquer the lands of giant demons, Rostam must undergo seven (haft) great ordeals (khân) in his arduous journey. Used metaphorically, the expression “Haft Khân-e Rostam” (the seven ordeals of Rostam) refers to the successive ordeals one must undergo in order to reach a particular goal.
The Haft Khân-e Rostam suite is inspired by this story and implies the inner progression of someone confronted with a succession of obstacles separating him from his divine King, the Beloved. In the course of the suite, each of these seven sequences (called Khân-e 1, Khân-e 2, etc.) appears, sometimes very briefly, through a rigorous and “classical” musical structure (first theme, second theme, development, return to initial theme).
The tanbur is tuned in a rather low pitch, in fifths instead of the usual fourths. The overall atmosphere is fairly solemn before it gradually livens up in higher registers through the use of the rolling shor, a technique typical of Ostad Elahi’s art.1 Chromaticism, the alteration of notes played on the low string, and the succession of fifths on syncopated or regular rhythms depict the inner struggle that takes place, eventually resolving into the ecstasy of the final encounter.
a. Khân-e 1
Extreme sobriety permeates the entire piece, which remains within a single semitone; an intensified effect results when a whole tone appears.
b. Khân-e 2
A higher note provides a hint of freshness and clarity; a counterpoint appears on the low string. A new theme then arises in a short and luminous mode close to the major mode.
c. Khân-e 3
Ostad lingers on one note. Then, a succession of fifths and the chromaticism of the melody, along with its inexorable rhythm, urge the listener to carry on.
d. Khân-e 4
The invariable rhythm expresses a kind of obstinacy.
e. Khân-e 5
An unprecedented note located beyond the fifth transforms the relations between the elements and introduces an unexpected mode.
f. Khân-e 6
A higher register and the emergence of a bright pattern enhance the nobility of the whole sequence.
g. Khân-e 7
Like a leitmotif, the chromatic fifths are repeated; the playing reaches the heights of virtuosity.
1. Ostad created several kinds of shors. The most frequent consists of successively striking the strings with the fingertips of the right hand (beginning with the thumb and proceeding to the little finger.) The repetition of this gesture at a constant speed produces a continuous rolling sound.
In this improvisation, Ostad Elahi directly ties the present suite—comprised of eight distinct parts—to the previous one with a linking passage. Tarz is a generic term that means “manner” or “rule,” but it also has a more specific musical meaning, that of a mode.
At the beginning of its quest for the Divine, the soul becomes conscious of its neglect and mistakes and thus of the gulf separating it from the Beloved. Although the pain of this awakening is at times quite deep, it purifies the heart and causes the blossoming of virtues that will prove indispensable on its spiritual path. It is this very quest that is evoked with great intensity in this suite, which is less epic but more internalized than the preceding one.
a. Tarz-e Jafari
b. Tarz-e Khân Bâbâ Khân
c. Tarz-e Leyli o Majnun
This sequence refers to the pure love—first passionate and then sublimated—of Leyli and Majnun, whose story is recognized as a parable of mystical love as recounted by the Persian poet Nezâmi (1140-1209).
d. Tarz-e Muri
“Muri” means lamentation.
e. Tarz-e Arka Bâzi
An ancient courtly melody transformed into the tanbur repertoire.
f. Tarz-e Seyyed Barâka
This piece is dedicated to Seyyed Barâka, a 19th century saint whose generosity and chivalry were especially praised by Ostad. Quite lyrical, it is rendered as a song.
g. Tarz-e Suz o Godâz
“Suz” here means an inner burning, the torment of one separated from the Beloved, a suffering that awakens and purifies the soul. “Godâz” signifies that this burning is so intense that one’s state can be likened to that of molten metal.
h. Tarz-e Teymuri
The final sequence is dedicated to Teymur, a great saint martyred in Kermanshah in 1865.
Ostad Elahi considered all divine messengers as links in a single chain originating from God. He often invoked their names in his prayers and paid tribute to them in certain vocal or instrumental pieces. He had a special affinity for Jesus and Dâwed because of their sheer kindness and mercy. Here, he sings their praise in the form of poems. Two of them, the first and the last, were written by his father, Hadj Nemat.
a. Wa Nokht-e Kalâm Didedâre Shun
Wa nokht-e kalâm didedâre shun
Yârân shokor Mowlâmân hât
Beshnâsân Mowlâm âmâ dunâdun
Yârân shokor Mowlâmân hât
As foretold by the prophecies,
Our Lord has come
O friends, let us praise Him!
Recognize the Lord in His Manifestation
O friends, let us praise Him!
b. Zât-e Yâr Dâwed Hâzeran va Jam
Zât-e yâr Dâwed hâzeran va jam
Khosh va hâl kasi didanash va tcham
The essence of Dâwed is present in the gathering
How fortunate is he who beholds it with his eyes
c. Dam Dam-e Isâ Ruhollâh Nâman
Dam dam-e Isâ ruhollâh nâman
Avval Jebrâ’il akhar Benyâman
Benyâm parwâna khâwandkâr sham’an
Sham showq-e jamâl Mowlây Mojreman
The breath is the breath of Jesus, whose name is the Spirit of God
At first Gabriel and in the end Benyâmin
He is the butterfly and God the candle
The candle reflects the splendorous beauty of Mojrem’s Lord1
1. “Mojrem” was one of Hadj Nemat’s pen names.
This eight-part suite relates to Nezami’s tragic story, the impossible love of Farhad, the Kurd, for Shirin, the Armenian princess, at the time of the Sassanid king, Khosrow Parviz. Transposed to a spiritual level, the theme is expressed through sober and nostalgic melodies.
a. Shirin Mayâ Khâl
b. Lâwe Lâwe
This ode, which expresses the suffering caused by the absence of the Beloved, is by Hadj Nemat.
c. Gharibi
This theme evokes the feeling of nostalgia and loneliness caused by the soul’s exile in the body.
d. Geleh wa Dara
This term suggests a departure from and return to the origin, a likely symbol of the soul returning to the Creator after having wandered on earth. The theme is more dynamic, accompanied at times by a counterpoint.
e. Seyyed Khâmush’s Sahari
Seyyed Khamush was a 15th century mystic, and Sahari refers to a melodic type, which he used to play in his own way. This is one of those pieces that was known only to Ostad, and while it is not usually included in this suite, he added it in this particular improvisation.
f. Sanam Hây Sanam
This melody presents the devotion of a pious person to his Beloved.
g. Târi Hey Târi
h. Shirin Khâwar
Based on an ancient Persian folk song, the semitones in this melody evoke a more nostalgic minor mode. Many notes are played with the left hand, producing melancholic overtones.
This piece belongs to the category of Kurdish dances traditionally performed on the occasion of weddings or joyous celebrations. It used to be called “Razbâri” and would be danced with wooden sticks in some regions. It is characterized by a fairly slow and syncopated rhythm expressing joy and lightheartedness. It is no longer the pain of separation from the Beloved; what remains is the pure joy of unbounded love, verging on ecstasy.
Dialogue with the Beloved
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Le Chant du Monde – Harmonia Mundi
Published: 1995, 1997
Edition: Reissued 2004
The theme of the dialogue between the soul and its Creator, so dear to Persian poets, is expressed on every piece of this CD, as music and poetry converge to depict spiritual states. The Shah Hoseyni suite, the long Sheykh Amiri supplication, and the Mystic Hymns and Dances each convey, in their own way, the infinite variety and degree of the emotional states characteristic of a dialogue with the Beloved.
Dialogue with the Beloved
One of the most cherished themes of Persian mystical poets—the dialogue between the soul and its Beloved—lies at the heart of the pieces presented here. Establishing a dialogue with the Beloved is to speak to Him and to open one’s heart to Him, passing through the successive stages, one by one, until reaching the stage of love suggested by the Shâh Hoseyni suite and its infinitely varied subtleties. Similarly, the long supplication of the Sheykh Amiri suite bears witness to this intimate relationship between a being and his or her Creator. As for the mystical hymns and dances, they are but a musical illustration of the ineffable feelings of joy and amazement that are experienced in such a state of love.
In its basic form, this melody is attributed to Sheykh Amir, an eighteenth-century Kurdish mystic. Following a sudden spiritual awakening, this illiterate shepherd composed numerous poems with deep spiritual meaning and rich symbolic imagery.
This melody became widely known and was often sung as an invitation to heartfelt communication with God. There are seventeen variations of this melody, from the simplest, that of Sheykh Amir himself, to the most elaborate, that of Ostad Elahi. Among the most moving melodies in Ostad’s repertoire, it reminds the soul of its origin, awakening it and uncovering memories deeply buried, inducing a sense of longing for its original abode.
The melodic pattern is often accompanied by chanted verses from Sheykh Amir in the form of an intimate dialogue, the last verse of which addresses the Creator.
a. Ostad Elahi’s Sheykh Amiri (return)
b. Hadj Nemat’s Sheykh Amiri
The theme of this melody belongs to Hadj Nemat, Ostad’s father. Ostad has enriched it to such an extent that it is now considered one of the jewels of the tanbur repertoire.
a. “Wa Fadâi Manzel Gât”
One summer as Ostad was completing the 40th day of his ascetic fasting in the mountains of Sheykhân, a dervish nearby, seized by a state of spiritual rapture, began supplicating his Lord. Overwhelmed by the dervish’s sincerity, Ostad was inspired with this prayer and melody:
Wa fadây manzel gât’ Ali
Pây sheykhânet bâm
Nazr-e tchâwâkay’ Ali
Jâm jahânet bâm
Dinam dina, shâm Khoshina
Shâd bây ke shâdam kardani
Wa pay Shender Kuh’ Ali feyzam dâdani
My all I will give when I find You, O Ali
I found You at Sheykhân1
My all I will give for those eyes, O Ali, which behold the universe
My religion is The Religion, my King is Shâh Khoshin
Rejoice, O You who have filled me with joy
At the foothill of Mount Shender,2 O Ali, You granted me grace.
Ostad Elahi used to say: “True prayer consists in praising God: worshipping Him, supplicating Him, submitting to His will, regardless of the words used, the names given, or the manner in which He is invoked.”
b. Improvisation on Tchapi
Tchapi (“alternating steps”) is a Kurdish dance tune in which the steps alternate between forward and backward. This tune is suggestive of communicating with God, which for some may take the form of a dance. As Ostad has said, “Each individual enters into an intimate dialogue with his Creator according to his or her own particular mood. . . .”
1. The shrine of Soltân Eshâq, where Ostad would often travel on pilgrimage.
2. Mount Shender is located near the shrine of Soltân Eshâq.
a. Shâh Hoseyni (Tune of Shâh Hoseyn)
The origin of this melody is unknown. The first notes sound a call, with a counterpoint in the low register. Sometimes Ostad lingers on one or two notes, or keeps the beat in a more persistent way, as if wishing to give weight to a request. Then a very strange harmony arises and the link is established: one wanders about in marvelous musical landscapes in a higher register. After returning to the initial theme, a more joyful polyphonic passage is rendered in a lower pitch.
b. Bâlâ Dastân (Lower register of the tanbur’s neck)
The name of this traditional tune suggests that it is played in a low pitch, but Ostad Elahi develops it by utilizing the full register of the tanbur.
c. Zir-e Dastân (Higher register of the tanbur’s neck)
This piece suggests a free play of questions and answers between the high (zir) register and the low (bâlâ) register, corresponding to the last seven frets and the first seven frets, respectively. The mode is joyful, resembling the major mode; certain passages give the impression that two tanburs are playing at the same time.
d. Do Bâlâ
Bâlâ refers to a particular segment of the scale. Some believe that this is also the melody of a dance where one stretches out the arms like two (do) wings (bâl).
e. Karim Khâni (Tune of Karim Khân)
The enthusiasm is sustained until a change in the rhythm generates a gradual appeasement.
f. Tchupâni (Tune of the Shepherd)
The atmosphere is more serene now, the melody recited on the instrument. There are only a few reminders of the previous agitation, like an inner murmur.
g. Bâria Bâria (Royal Court)
The title of this piece alludes to the Court of the Lord, the Divine Threshold. This melody was a song before being conveyed in its instrumental form. The chromatic theme is at once strange and fascinating. The intervals formed with the lower voice, as well as the rhythm, produce an air of majesty.
The Celestial Music of Ostad Elahi
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Le Chant du Monde – Harmonia Mundi
Published: 1995, 1996
Edition: Reissued 2004
This first CD, which contains recordings of Ostad Elahi’s improvisations on the tanbur, provides an overview of his art featuring playful and ecstatic suites (Jelo Shahi and Sahari), a short meditative piece, and even a sung supplication (Saru Khani).
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The Celestial Music of Ostad Elahi
Originally published on the occasion of the centennial of Ostad Elahi’s birth in 1995, this recording marks the first in the Le Chant du Monde collection. However, it should be noted that this body of work, produced with rudimentary technology and in less than favorable conditions, constitutes only a small fragment of Ostad’s vast repertoire.
A common, essential feature running throughout these pieces is the poetic expressiveness of Ostad Elahi’s celestial music, which is rooted in a tradition wherein poetry and music converge to describe spiritual states and celestial scenes. By virtue of its rhythmic nature, Persian poetry is musical itself, while sacred Persian music is inherently poetic inasmuch as its powers of expression are capable of suggesting spiritual states and celestial scenes. One such scene dear to Persian mystical poets is the communication between the soul and its Beloved, whose illustration is likewise sought in many modal developments of Persian music.
This suite, which literally means “Before the King,” evokes the imperial rites of ancient Persia transposed to the spiritual level. In anticipation of the King’s arrival, we witness the preparations for His coming, which eventually culminate in the ecstasy of His arrival. The names of God (Ali, Haqq, Hû, etc.) and the seven archangels of the tradition (Benyâmin, Dâwud, Pir Mûsi, Mostafâ, Yâdegar, Shâh Ibrâhim, Pir Razbâr) are chanted during the piece.
a) Slow Khân Amiri (Melody of Khâns and Emirs)
b) Rapid Khân Amiri (Melody of Khâns and Emirs)
c) Gardûne (The Gathering)
d) Jelo Shâhi (Greeting the King)
e) Sawâr sawâr (Horsemen)
f) Jang ârâ (Ornaments of War)
g) Mobârak bâda (Blessed be All)
h) Sepâ (Three Dance Steps)
i) Sejârân (Three Dance Steps)
This ancient melody is dedicated to Dâwud, the manifestation of the archangel Raphael. It was also called “Ney Dâwud,” a likely allusion to the flute (ney) of the prophet David (Dâwud).
a) Âhang-e Najaf (Melody of Najaf)1
b) Samâ (Spiritual Concert)
c) Slow Ey Dâwud (O Dâwud)
d) Rapid Ey Dâwud (O Dâwud)
1. Ostad Elahi was inspired with this melody during a pilgrimage to the shrine of Ali in Najaf.
A. Sahari (“dawn”)
In the past, this melody was played at dawn to awaken dervishes for prayer. Unfortunately, the recording of this improvisation was interrupted in the midst of its development.
B. Gol va Khâr (“Rose and Thorn”)
This air evokes the alternating states of sadness and joy of the performer.
The name of this air evokes the song (khâni) of the starling (sâr); it may also be a reference to the saint (Sâru Khân) who composed it. Ostad accompanies the melody with a supplication attributed to Ali. Though originally in Arabic, Ostad has rendered it into Persian.
Praise to You, benevolent and glorious Lord
You who knows all that is hidden or revealed
My Creator, my Refuge, my Support
It is You that I implore, in hardship and in fortune
No matter how great my failings, Your forgiveness is greater still
I have succumbed to temptation, now I am plagued by remorse
O God, hear my plea
For You know how miserable and destitute I am.
Music for the Mind
By: Ostad Elahi
Publisher: Advanced Brain Technologies
Published: 2010
Music for the Mind (MFM) and its successor, MFM II, is a sound stimulation auditory training program produced by Advanced Brain Technologies based on the science of psychoacoustics.
The new musical arrangements of MFM II provide the listener with the option to select from one of four discs: energy, relaxation, contemplation, or well-being. Combining psychoacoustic techniques with improvisational music and soothing nature sounds, MFM II naturally enhances the function of the ear and brain through the music of Ostad Elahi.
Through the practice of active listening, MFM II enables one to regain tranquility and focus and to develop greater attention and energy in one’s daily activities.
