CD 2

This suite, the pure expression of a profound quest wherein material preoccupations have no role, is the supplication of one who aspires solely to meeting and reuniting with the Beloved. The piece has moments of pure imploration calling upon the intercession of Bābā Yādegār, Soltān’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 Ābedīn 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, Hādj Nematollāh. Ostad himself has written a detailed commentary on this work entitled Hāshīye bar Haqq ol-Haqāyeq. The story of Ābedīn is as follows: A devout man at the time of Soltān had four sons, three of whom embraced the mystical faith of their father and believed in Soltān as the earthly manifestation of the divine essence. But the fourth son, Ābedīn, denounced this mystical approach as heresy, placing his enthusiasm and faith in Islamic theology and jurisprudence instead. According to Ābedīn, 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 Soltān and his followers that he even strewed thorns along the path leading to Soltān’s abode to lacerate the feet of pilgrims going to see him.When Ābedīn’s father sought Soltān’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, Ābedīn, engrossed in his theological studies, felt a wave of 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 Soltān’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, a few beautiful young women were sitting at the water’s edge. Ābedīn’s teacher (a holy man) had witnessed the whole event, but thought Ābedīn’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 Ābedīn’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 Soltān’s close companions.In this suite, Ostad Elahi sings some lines from the long poem recounting the story of Ābedīn. 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.

Suite Ābedīnī, with a Yādegārī Introduction

<blockquote>Yār dīdagīānī, Benyāmīn pīra Pīr Mūsī vazīr / Dāwed dasgīraO Friends, / Benyāmīn is the leader Pīr Mūsī oversees the register / Dāwūd is the intercessor (the succor, the savior).</blockquote>Three more of Soltān’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 Dalīl, who guides the soul, and the Pīr, who intercedes and establishes a link between the soul and the Divine.<blockquote>Dowr-e yārāna Haqq o Haqq / Rahmat wārāna Haqq o HaqqThis is the reign of God’s friends / The rain of goodness showers upon God’s friends.</blockquote>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 (wārān).

Hymns

Kākā Redā was one of the close companions of Shāh Khoshīn, who was among the 11th century theophanies according to the Ahl-e Haqq. It is due to Shāh Khoshīn 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’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.Seyd Khāmūsh, who occupied the rank of an archangel, lived around the 15th century. His name has been attributed to a mode presenting certain analogies to Kākā Redāī, 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.

Kākā Redāī followed by the Saharī Suite of Seyd Khāmūsh

The literal meaning of shān jonbān[ak] 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 imparting 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.

Shān Jonbān[ak]

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 Ostad 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 anyone who is willing to let oneself 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.

Tarz

Nakīsā and Bārbad are two characters from Ancient Persia, both famous court musicians for the Sassanid King Khosrow Parvīz 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 Nakīsā and Bārbad 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.

Nakīsā and Bārbad Suite

CD 1

Sheykh Amīrī is a generic term designating a type of melody and a specific way of tuning the tanbur in fourths, known as kūk-e Sheykh Amīrī. The basic melody dates back to the time of Sheykh Amīr, 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 Amīr, 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 Amīrī 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 Amīrī-e Hādj Nemat, Sheykh Amīrī-e Shāh Hayāsī); still others go under the title of Sheykh Amīrī followed by the name of the region where they’re traditionally played (e.g., Sheykh Amīrī-e Gūrān (from the Gūrān area), Sheykh Amīrī-e atrāf-e Sahne (from the Sahne area, with its three variants)). The least complex of these different versions is that of Sheykh Amīr himself, and the most elaborate that of Ostad Elahi.The suite featured on the present CD comprises all the versions of Sheykh Amīrī, one of the most captivating and meditativepiecesin the Ostad Elahi’s whole Ostad Elahi’s repertoire. 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 exceptional talent and finesse of Ostad.The Sheykh Amīrī 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 Amīrī, however, the two do not coincide and matching song to the tanbur is indeed a perilous exercise. To add to this difficulty, Ostad Elahi’s personal style consists of rich and subtle ornamentation, using shors1, vibrations, vibratos, and the plucking of strings, all of which require a technique that demands extreme dexterity.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 deep peace; from an uninterrupted flow of music and a cascade of notes somehow emerges a feeling of serenity and gentle melancholy tinged with sweetness, one of the paradoxes of Ostad’s style.<ol class="number"><li value=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.</li></ol>

Sheykh Amīrī Suite

A series of three hymns devoted to Dāwūd (Dāwed in Kurdish), the manifestation of Raphael, the archangel of divine clemency and one of Soltān’s close companions.1 Ostad Elahi was especially fond of Dāwūd, about whom he would say: “I rejoice when Dāwūd’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 Soltān for each individual case. Dāwūd has never been observed to become angry with anyone, for he is pure goodness and kindness from head to toe.”2 Similarly, Ostad states: “There are a few people whose names bring sheer pleasure to my ears: Christ, for his goodness toward all living beings . . . Dāwūd, the personification of mercy, who is always present, ready to help anyone in need.”3 Ostad sings three songs one after the other, beginning with the slowest and proceeding to the most rapid, as though drawing the participants into this invocation to Dāwūd.1. Hey Dāwed (slow)<blockquote>Hey Dāwed, gīān Dāwed O Dāwūd, life Dāwūd</blockquote>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 him 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.2. Hey Dāwed (faster)The piece begins in an almost relaxed manner, but gradually draws the listener along 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.3. Hey Dāwed (fast)<blockquote>Hey Dāwed, Haqq gīān Dāwed / Dīn Dāwed, īmān Dāwed O Dāwūd, Haqq, life, Dāwūd / Religion, Dāwūd, faith, Dāwūd</blockquote>This very old hymn was recorded informally in the intimate context of a family gathering. No other musician or professional singer was present, 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.<ol class="number"><li value=1>Soltān Sahāk (or Eshāq), founder of the mystical order of the Ahl-e Haqq, lived in the 14th century.</li><li value=2>Āsār ol-Haqq, vol. 1, sayings 1442, 1441.</li><li value=3>Ibid., saying 1355.</li></ol>

Hey Dāwed Hymns

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. Ostad 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 Farangī 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 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. The percussionist here is Hādj Amīn, Ostad Elahi’s eldest son. As well as being an outstanding daf player, Hādj Amīn was also an exceptional tanbur player and a connoisseur of the Kurdish dance repertoire.

Improvisation in Bābā Jalīlī in Fourths Followed by the Suite Zang-e Shotorī in Seconds

Destinations

Tanbur

Vocal

Fourths (Sheykh Amīrī)

Dowre Yārāna

Ali Āmān Yā Ali

Āmān Sad Āmān

Dam Dam-e Isā Ruhollāh Nāman

Donīa fānīyan

Dust Bejan Bejan Barza Meli

Ey Darvīsh Darvīsh

Haqq Haqq-e Hū Hū

Haqq Sefīd Pūshān

Har Va aw Soltān

Hey Dāwed (fast)

Hey Dāwed (faster)

Hey Dāwed (slow)

Jam Neyān

Papū Soleymāni

Sāheb Tūl-e Zar Dāwed

Shāh Nematollāh Valīan Haqq

Shām Āmā

Shīrīna Leylā

Shoq-e Shādīman

Soltān Sahākī

Soltān sar Jam

Soltān-e Mardān

Wa Āmāna Kū

Wa Fedāy Manzelgāt

Wa nokht-e kalām dīdadār-e shūn 

Wālā Wītāna

Yā Soltān Āmān Āgerem Dāy

Yār dīdagīānī Benyāmīn pīra

Yārān wa bāten ye dang-ī mayū

Zāt-e Yār Dāwed Hāzeran va Jam

In its basic form, this melody is attributed to Sheykh Amīr, an eighteenth-century Kurdish mystic. Following a sudden spiritual awakening, this illiterate shepherd composed numerous poems with deep spiritual meaning and rich symbolic imagery.Sheykh Amīr played the tanbur in a simple yet captivating manner. This melody became widely known and was often sung as an invitation to heartfelt communication with God. “Sheykh Amīrī” has since become a generic term describing a mode in which numerous melodies have been composed. Each of these melodies is called “Sheykh Amīrī,” followed by the name of the composer or arranger, or the name of the region where it is played. There are seventeen variations of this melody, from the simplest, that of Sheykh Amīr himself, to the most elaborate, that of Ostad Elahi.The melody revolves around a mysterious scale of alternating tones and semitones, creating a dissonant counterpoint with the lower strings. The ebb and flow of the melody produced by the instrument are similar to waves dying on the shore, one after another, converging toward the final note where all dissonance is resolved and all tensions fade away.This melody, one of the most moving in Ostad Elahi’s repertoire, 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 Amīr in the form of an intimate dialogue, the last verse of which addresses the Creator:<blockquote>Delay gonāhkār, delay zabūnbakht, cha azal gonāhkār Ar cha rūy azal mowyāī borda-bār, pey chīsh makaftī, dūr tcha qāpī yār Sobh-o shām sajdat āw bashar maward, salwātet wa dīn hazerāt makard  Weyarday sālān ablay nāshenākht, majnūn-e kam fām nābīnāy kajbakht Awan sang-e sakht dāy wa dīdey weyt, yak yak namāyān gesht āmā nareyt Ozr-e mazurīt wa kī nakīshā, cha [wa] bordabārī pīshat na īshā To narāy khedmat darset kam wānā, tārīkī pāy sham wa to namānā  Marham cha qāpī yār-e māyadār, bebakhshū gonāh kalb-e gonāhkār</blockquote><blockquote>O sinner heart, how weak and destitute Sinner since the dawn of creation If only you had shown more patience in the beginning How you have lacked respect and patience What have you done to distance yourself from the divine abode? From morning till night, you prostrated yourself before men Adoring their idols So many years on, you who still fail to understand You who are drowning in ignorance O mindless creature, blind and miserable! All for this heavy stone to strike your eyes! One by one, you have suffered the consequences [of your faults] Is there anyone you have not humiliated yourself before? The suffering you have endured has reached the depths of your being You have not drawn enough lessons along the Path Instead you have become the shadow at the base of the candle The remedy to relieve my pain Must be sought from that supreme Sage Won’t you have mercy and absolve this humble servant of his sins?</blockquote>Ostad Elahi played exclusively in the presence of his family and close friends. As can be heard on this recording, at the conclusion of the piece he recounts the date as the night before Sunday, March 21, 1965, which marked the beginning of Nowruz, the Persian New Year. He expresses his hope that the piece has been helpful in drawing the attention of his listeners toward the realm of truth.

Ostad Elahi's Sheykh Amīrī

a. Ostad Elahi's Sheykh Amīrī (return) b. Hādj Nemat’s Sheykh AmīrīThe theme of this melody belongs to Hādj 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 Fedāy Manzelgāt"One summer as Ostad was completing the 40th day of his ascetic fasting in the mountains of Sheykhān, 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:<blockquote>Wa fedāy manzelgāt Ali Pāy sheykhānet bām Nazr-e tchāwakey Ali Jām jahānet bām Dīnem dīna, shām Khoshīna Shād bāy (ke) shādem kardanī Wa pāy Shender Kū Ali feyzem dādanīMy all I will give when I find You, O Ali I found You at Sheykhān1 My all I will give for those eyes, O Ali, which behold the universe My religion is The Religion, my King is Shāh Khoshīn Rejoice, O You who have filled me with joy At the foothill of Mount Shender,2 O Ali, You granted me grace.</blockquote>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.”The melody begins with a typically Kurdish rhythm consisting of three notes, which can be interpreted as 2 x 5 beats (3 2 2 3). The musical architecture then becomes increasingly complex as other themes come into play, echoing one another, interacting, melting, and giving rise to an entirely new melody. The performer plays with the elements and constantly rearranges them, yet the overall impression is one of deep unity.b. Improvisation on Tchapī Tchapī ("alternating steps") is a Kurdish dance tune in which the steps alternate between forward and backward. Tchapī’s theme arises in a natural way from the developments of the preceding melody, alternating with other tunes on slower beats and other patterns reappearing throughout the whole improvisation. The transition from a slow rhythm to a faster one is revived and guided to its peak through passages of great virtuosity, consisting of a progression of chords in the high register. The piece concludes with a return to the original rhythm. 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. . . .”<ol class="number"><li value=1>The shrine of Soltān Eshāq, where Ostad would often travel on pilgrimage.</li><li value=2>Mount Shender is located near the shrine of Soltān Eshāq.</li></ol>

Mystical Hymns and Dances

a. Shāh Hoseynī (Tune of Shāh 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. Bālā Dastān (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. Zīr-e Dastān (Higher register of the tanbur’s neck) This piece suggests a free play of questions and answers between the high (zīr) register and the low (bālā) 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 Bālā Bālā 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 (bāl).e. Karīm Khānī (Tune of Karīm Khān) The enthusiasm is sustained until a change in the rhythm generates a gradual appeasement.f. Chūpānī (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. Bārīya Bārīya (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 title also refers to a chapter of the Kurdish sacred scriptures (15th century, Ahl-e Haqq) in which one of Soltān Sahāk's seven companions is said to have discovered his own divine essence and recalled all of his successive manifestations in the course of sacred history. 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.

Shāh Hoseynī Suite (Part One)

Dialogue With The Beloved

Nakīsā and Bārbad are two characters from Ancient Persia, famous court musicians of the Sassanid King Khosrow Parvīz in the early 7th century (pre-Islamic period).1 According to Jean During, “We owe to Bārbad 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” (khosrovānī), thirty derived modes (lahn), and three hundred and sixty melodies (dastān) 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 Bārbad had a considerable reputation even before he became a famous court musician.3 The court favorite at the time, Sarkīs, was jealous of Bārbad’s reputation and (fearing that he would be overshadowed) prevented him from coming to the court. One day, Bārbad met the royal gardener and persuaded him to allow Bārbad to remain in the garden incognito when the King came for a walk. At the appropriate time, Bārbad came in and hid in a tree. The King arrived with his courtiers. As he was being served a goblet of wine, Bārbad began to play.4 The King was amazed and asked who was playing; Bārbad 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 Bārbad did not emerge. When the third goblet was served, Bārbad 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. Bārbad 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 bār means “court” and bad means “possessor.”Bārbad’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 Shabdīz, which he loved above all else, to the extent that he had decreed if Shabdīz 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. Bārbad was given the task. So he composed a tune he called Shabdīz. When he went to the King and played it for him, the King exclaimed: “Shabdīz is dead!” Bārbad was subsequently assassinated, though no one knows whether it was the work of Sarkīs or one of his students.Sources disagree as to whether Nakīsā 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 Nakīsā was equally famous as a singer, with a musical standing almost as great as Bārbad’s. They met at the court of King Khosrow Parvīz and collaborated on the composition of the “royal modes.” In Kurdish gnosis, Nakīsā and Bārbad 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, “Nakīsā and Bārbad is a (dastgāh), 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 kalāms 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 Ostad’s virtuosity and technical mastery.<ol class="number"><li value=1>See CD, Destinations, vol. 2, Le Chant du Monde/Harmonia Mundi, 2008.</li><li value=2>Musique et Mystique dans les Traditions de I’lran, Paris, IFRI Peeters, (Book II, part 2), 1989.</li><li value=3>Tārīkh-e mūsīqī-e Iran (History of Music in Iran), by Hassan Mashhūn, published by Cimorgh, 1373 (Iranian calendar), vol. 1, p. 56-66.</li><li value=4>In the pre-Islamic period, wine was not forbidden in Persia.</li><li value=5>Tārīkh-e mūsīqī-e Iran, 66-67.</li><li value=6>Musique et Mystique.</li></ol>

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 but 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. Nakīsā and Bārbad are reunited and their purely spiritual love intensifies with each moment they spend together, an exaltation expressed by the virtuosity and creativity of Ostad.

Reunion of Nakīsā and Bārbad

A recording of Farangī appeared on the CD Dialogue with the Beloved.1 Farangī, which literally means “Frankish” or “European,” is distinguished by a sense of the foreign or strange. “Farangī tuning” (kūk-e Farangī) 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 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 Ostad 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 shotorī 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 instead 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.<ol class="number"><li value=1>Le Chant du Monde, 1997, reissued 2004.</li></ol>

Farangī Suite

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, Ostad addresses simple and direct words to his Beloved.The tanbur is heard first, in a melody rising toward Him. Then Ostad 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 closer 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 Dāwed toward the end of the piece)1 are themselves played in an original way. Even listeners used to Ostad’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 Ostad’s voice catches and the appeal becomes more urgent. According to Ostad, “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.” (Āsār ol-Haqq, vol. 2, 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:<blockquote>Ali (x 6) Ali, agar bogzarī, Ali (x 5) Ali, gonābāranān, Ali (x 7) djān Gonābāran yā Ali, Ali, Ali, Ali Gonām bar gardan, yā Ali, yā Ali, yā Ali Va gonāy sar va jīr-e bār yā Mowlām, Ali (x 5) Gonāy wīm bardan yā Mowlām āmān Ali (x 5) djān, Ali, Hū Sar va jīr-e bār Ali djān Mowlām Gonāy wīm bardanVa gonā(h) kārān mabū weyardan, ey Khodā-ye man, ey Mowlā-ye man Bī gonā(h) va kas ey Ali djān mennat nabardan, amān amān amān, amān Agar bogzarī, yā Mowlā-ye man va gonā(h)kārī Aw vakht malūman yā Mowlām to karamdārī Djān Ali, ey Khodā-ye man, Ali (x 4) karīmī, rahīmī, bozorgavārī Ey Khodā-ye man (x 3), Khodā-ye man (2 x) Ey khāleq-e man, ey Khodā-ye man Ey Ali, amān, Ali (x 6)</blockquote><blockquote>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</blockquote>Like Ali, the terms Mowlā (Lord), Khodā (God), Djān (Beloved), and Hū (Him) are expressions of the divinity, a way of invoking God.Then, to the slow Hey Dāwed theme:<blockquote>Yā Dāwed-e dāwedan Ali Hū har Dāwed-e khāsan Ey Khodā-ye man ey rabb-e man Yā Hayy yā qayyūm</blockquote><ol class="number"><li value=1>See CD Destinations, vol. 1, Le Chant du Monde/Harmonia Mundi, 2008.</li></ol>

Bābā Jalīlī Invocation

Harmony, communion, and great sweetness are the keynotes of this ancient Kurdish zekr, played within the family circle.<blockquote>Yārān wa bāten ye dang-ī mayū / sedāy hey dayyār sarhang-ī mayūCompanions, from the world of the spirit comes a voice It is the voice of a Knight of God calling his divine Beloved</blockquote>"Knight" in this context refers to a high-ranking individual.

Yārān Wa Bāten Ye Dang-ī Mayū

This zekr was probably composed by Ostad in the 1930s, before a pilgrimage to the tomb of Soltān Eshāq.1 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.<blockquote>Yā Soltān, āmān āgerem dāy / Dasht-e awrāmān wāvarem dāyO Soltān, mercy, You have set me aflame You have spread the plain of Awrāmān at my feet</blockquote>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 permeated the musical sessions he led: “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 God Almighty 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. Hū yā Ali; may God always grant us His blessings. This was truly a great joy for me.”<ol class="number"><li value=1>Soltān Eshāq, founder of the mystical order of the Ahl-e Haqq, lived in the 14th century.</li></ol>

Yā Soltān, Āmān Āgerem Dāy

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, every change of rhythm creates a new atmosphere and carries one ever further. Then the music abruptly stops and silence sustains the emotion.

Harātī Suite

Presence

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, Hū, etc.) and the seven archangels of the tradition (Benyāmīn, Dāwūd, Pīr Mūsī, Mostafā, Yādegār, Shāh Ebrāhīm, Pīr Razbār) are chanted during the piece.<blockquote>a) Slow Khān Amīrī (Melody of Khāns and Emirs) b) Rapid Khān Amīrī (Melody of Khāns and Emirs) c) Gardūne (The Gathering) d) Jelo Shāhī (Greeting the King) e) Sawār Sawār (Horsemen, Horsemen) f) Jang Ārā (Ornaments of War) g) Mobārak Bādā (Blessed be All) h) Sepā (Three Dance Steps) i) Sejārān (Three Dance Steps)</blockquote>

Jelo Shāhī Suite

This ancient melody is dedicated to Dāwūd, the manifestation of the archangel Raphael. It was also called “Ney Dāwūd,” a likely allusion to the flute (ney) of the prophet David (Dāwūd).<blockquote>a) Mobārak Bādā1 b) Samā (Spiritual Concert) c) Slow Hey Dāwed (O Dāwūd) d) Rapid Hey Dāwed (O Dāwūd)</blockquote><ol class="number"><li value=1>Ostad Elahi was inspired with this melody while on pilgrimage to the shrine of Ali.</li></ol>

Hey Dāwed Suite and Hymns

a. Saharī Saharī (“of the dawn”) 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 Khār This air evokes the alternating states of sadness and joy of the performer.

Saharī Suite

The name of this air evokes the chant (Khānī) of the starling (sār); it may also be a reference to the saint (Sārū Khān) who composed it. The verses sung here are from a prayer attributed to Imam Ali. Originally in Arabic, Ostad translated them into Persian.<blockquote>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.</blockquote>

Sārū Khānī (Song of the Starling)

The Celestial Music of Ostad Elahi

Instrumental

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 setār and tanbur, respectively), he designed and built an original instrument—a tanbur with five strings—that enabled him to integrate the characteristic techniques of the setār 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 Qatār suite.The term Qatār 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, Qatār 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 Qatār 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 Qatār mode, playing them in the aura, tonality, and tuning characteristic of Qatār while connecting one piece to the next with the fluidity of a cascade. Approximately forty minutes in length, the Qatār suite rendered here is considered among the most complete recordings that remain of Ostad’s music.

Dowre Yārāna

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Dowre YārānaVocal

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Dowre Yārāna