Once again, this version of Sheykh Amīrī, played in the intimate setting of his family, provides a good illustration of Ostad Elahi’s sayings about music as a language of the soul, independent of any considerations of technique, aesthetics, time, or place: “Music is connected to the soul, and the soul is connected to God. . . if we play in this spirit, we will establish a connection to the Source.”¹ The important thing is to have constant attention to the divine, to which Ostad adds: “Regardless of the time and place, whenever a state of attention is realized, do not let it slip away; time and place are of no consequence.”² The act of worshipping God requires neither a special framework nor a particular form; only the connection of the heart matters. “We should seek to hear those true sounds of music. Music should be used as a means of establishing a spiritual connection, not as an end unto itself.”³

There are multiple versions of Sheykh Amīrī, 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.