This piece was recorded in the 1970s at Ostad Elahi’s home in Tehran. It highlights the virtuosity, power, and speed of his playing, both with his right and left hands. The main theme evokes the story of Nakīsā and Bārbad, two characters of ancient Persia who were famous musicians at the court of King Sassanid Khosrow Parvīz in the early seventh century. According to Kurdish gnosis, they are bound by a deep and unwavering spiritual love, comparable to that of Joseph and Jacob, or of Jesus Christ and John the Baptist. Having undergone the trial of separation, they were finally reunited after overcoming many obstacles. Ostad liked to honor their memory and often mentioned their names when he played their melody in the midst of an improvisation.As was the case for 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 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.<ol class="number"><li value=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 buoyant at that moment. This even includes music tinged with nostalgia, for weeping calms the soul and procures joy.” Āsār ol-Haqq, vol. 2 (Tehran: Jeyhūn, 1991), 359-360.</li><li value=2>A type of roll played with the right hand.</li></ol>

Shīn-e Tarz in the Nakīsā and Bārbad Suite

With this piece, also recorded in the 1970s in Tehran, the listener is transported directly into an 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 Kurmānjī (close to Turkish) by Hazrat-e Qosh tchī Oghlī, a great spiritual figure of the Turkish Ahl-e Haqq tradition:2<blockquote>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 Benyāmīn,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 Dāwūd, 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 Pīr Mūsī, the scribe with the golden pen And in the name of the devotion of Razbār It is in You that I seek refuge, O peerless Friend You, above whom there is no one In the name of Khān Almās, the masterful (proficient), the greatest among the humble, forgive us! It is in You that I seek refuge, Seigniorial Essence I am intoxicated, inebriated Forgive us in the name of Mostafā Dāwdān Who bears Your wrath as half of his name4 Preserve us from the glittering tinsel of the world Do not cast us among unjust men Forgive us, in the name of Pīr Razbār, 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 Jamshīd, Who drank from the chalice,5 with intoxicated eyes Qosh tchī Oghlī says: O Unique Friend, Peerless, the Efficient in everything You who have 70,000 [spiritual] servants Forgive us, for the sake of all of these servants!</blockquote><ol class="number"><li value=1>In this context, Ali’s name is a way of invoking the divinity, similar to Haqq (Truth) and Hū (Him).</li><li value=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.</li><li value=3>In the tradition of the Ahl-e Haqq of Kurdestān, Benyāmīn, and later in the poem, Dāwūd, Pīr Mūsī, Razbār, and Mostafā Dāwdān, are archangelic essences who, in the fourteenth century, were companions of Soltān Eshāq (or Sahāk), the founder of the Order who served as their spiritual pole and was himself deemed a theophany. Each of these essences had a specific spiritual function.</li><li value=4>Mostafā is the agent of divine wrath.</li><li value=5>The chalice in which the pure wine of mystic initiation is poured.</li></ol>

Turkish Sheykh Amīrī

Drawn from the dance repertoire, the Tchapī 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 invented 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 landscapes can be envisioned passing by. The listening induces a feeling of protection and benevolence that reassures the traveler about the road ahead.

Improvisation in the Tchapī Suite

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.”3There 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.<ol class="number"><li value=1>Ostad Elahi, Āsār ol-Haqq, vol. 2 (Tehran: Jeyhūn, 1991), p. 215.</li><li value=2>Ostad Elahi, Paroles de Vérité (Paris: Albin Michel, 2014), saying 148.</li><li value=3>Ibid., saying 226.</li></ol>

Sheykh Amīrī II of Ostad Elahi

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 Hādj Nematollāh, 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 Hādj Amīn.(1) Intense and full of energy, the first hymn evokes the companions of Hādj Nematollāh who were all dressed in a long white tunic.<blockquote>Haqq sefīd pūshān / Haqq sefīd pūshān Kowsar manūshān[benūshān] / Haqq sefīd pūshān Haqq dressed in white / drink from the water of Kowsar / Haqq, those dressed in white</blockquote>“Haqq” is one of the divine names that evokes the Truth, 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 grants 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 Soltān Eshāq,1 when Hādj Nematollāh received the manifestation of his Essence.<blockquote>Shām āmā, Shām āmā, Shahanshāy Shāhān āmā My King has come, my King has come, the King of Kings of all Kings has come.</blockquote>(3) In this hymn, the responses of the assembly end with some a cappella measures. The collective fervor is clearly perceptible.<blockquote>Shāh Nematollāh valīyan Haqq / Avval-o ākher Alīyan Haqq Shāh Nematollāh is the Valī of Truth / The beginning and the end are Ali, who is Truth</blockquote>(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.<blockquote>Shoq-e shādīman Khodā shokor Dowr-e bāqīman Khodā shokorThis is my joy and enthusiasm, thank you O’ God This is my spiritual (permanent) era, thank you O’ God</blockquote><ol class="number"><li value=1>Soltān Eshāq (or Sahāk), a great theophanic figure of the fourteenth century, is deemed the founder of the mystical order of the Ahl-e Haqq, to which Hādj Nematollāh belonged.</li></ol>

Suite of Zekrs II

Joy predominates here: the festive and joyous melodies sweep the listener away to another realm. 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 the 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 “Papū Soleymānī,” a mythical bird that resembles the hoopoe. Each verse is repeated twice.<blockquote>Papū soleymāna danūk zarrīna O Papū Soleymānī with a yellow beakBālakat vāka bechū va mūyna Spread your wings and travel over thereBechū va awrāmān Go to Awrāmān (the site of Soltān’s tomb)Soltān gīān būyna And visit our beloved Soltān SahākKhavar-e bāra Bring back some newsVao sarzamīna From that country there</blockquote>

Khān Amīrī in the Jelo Shāhī Suite

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 “Pāykūbī” (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 the theme has been presented, 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 zurnā (oboe) or the dozaleh (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.

Pā Kotakī II Suite

Resilience

Tanbur

Vocal

Fourths (Sheykh Amīrī)

Shoq-e Shādīman

Ali Āmān Yā Ali

Āmān Sad Āmān

Dam Dam-e Isā Ruhollāh Nāman

Donīa fānīyan

Dowre Yārāna

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

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

Hādj Nematollāh

Samā,1 whose various meanings include “audition,” refers both to the mystical concert and the cosmic dance induced by this audition, a meaning that gained prominence in the 13th century under the influence of Mowlānā Rūmī. According to this great Persian poet and mystic, “The Samā constitutes but a small part of the eternal dance the soul is destined to join one day. Every being partakes in this cosmic dance. . . .”2Samā expresses a melody that comes “from the firmament” (samāvāt: 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 sīmī),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 setār (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<blockquote>Āmān sad āmān wa āmāna kū Ya das[t]-e mena / Ali wa dāmān-e toYour help I implore a hundred times over, but where is Your help? Here is my hand that grasps the hem of thy robe</blockquote><ol class="number"><li value=1>See Ostad Elahi, Celestial Dances, compact disc (Paris: Le Chant du Monde, 2005).</li><li value=2>Jean During, Musique et extase (Paris: Albin Michel, 1988), 200.</li><li value=3>Panj sīmī: A special five-stringed tanbur (two double-strings for trebles and mediums, and a single string for the bass) invented by Ostad Elahi. See Celestial Harmonies, compact disc (Paris: Le Chant du Monde, 1994/2004).</li><li value=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.</li></ol>

Samā

Recorded in the intimacy of his family circle with equipment from the 60s, this melody is conveyed through a pared-down style on the tanbur. From the outset, the chant is quite intimate and high-pitched, unfolding with subtle cantillation-like variations. The voice and the instrument are in complete unity.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:<blockquote>Haqq Haqq-e hū hū / Ey āqāy jāfem Ghonaray sar tāfem / Yār bī gazāfem</blockquote>are an invocation to Soltān,2 who in this context represents the divine essence; “Haqq” and “Hū” are divine names that refer to the Truth, God, and the One.“Ghonaray” (the river) “sar tāfem” (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 “yār bī gazāfem” means my Beloved (Yār), Soltān, who is devoid of lies. Thus, these verses can be translated as follows:<blockquote>The world, like a river, is all sparkle and turbulence But You, my Beloved, are devoid of ostentation, pure Truth</blockquote><ol class="number"><li value=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.</li><li value=2>Soltān Eshāq (or Sahāk), a great theophanic figure of the fourteenth century, is considered the founder of the mystical order of the Ahl-e Haqq.</li></ol>

This piece was recorded in Ostad’s home. After he 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 Wālā wītāna 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 setār,1 strikes the strings in a way that greatly amplifies the sound of the instrument2. 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 Pīr Razbār. The only woman with the spiritual rank of an archangel in the Kurdish Ahl-e Haqq tradition, Pīr Razbār is a highly revered saint who lived in the 14th century. The mother of Soltān Eshāq, her spiritual pole, she was entirely devoted to him.The first verse of the poem, “ Wa[Cha] manzelgātān kām djā djītāna,” 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 wītāna,” 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 one’s heart. When one reaches a state where all the pleasures in this world are no longer a pleasure, one 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. From there, one reaches a state of rapture, a state in which wherever one looks, it is God/the Truth that one sees, and one is ready to be launched by God into the realm of Perfection.<blockquote>Wa[Cha] manzelgātān kām djā djītāna Eshq-e Haqq wa sar sheet-e wītāna Wa[Cha] manzelgātān kām djā djītāna Rāy Haqq rāsīan rāsī rītāna Ya shart-e eqrār shart-e shātāna Bāqī ākherat manzelgātāna Ya dām-e balā ya balātāna Eshq-e Haqq wa sar sheet-e wītāna Dīn-e āshekār bar malātāna Eshq-e Haqq wa sar sheet-e wītāna Wa[Cha] manzelgātān kām djā djitānaWhere and in what place do you wish your abode? Carry the madness of love of Truth in your heart and in your heart be enamored with God! Where and in what place do you wish your abode? The path of Truth is righteousness, righteousness is the path This is the pact of acceptance, this is the pact Spiritual (permanent) era is your abode This trap of pain is the necessary evil Carry the madness of love of Truth in your heart and in your heart be enamored with God! It is the apparent path that is now revealed to you Carry the madness of love of Truth in your heart and in your heart be enamored with God! Where and in what standing do you wish your abode? Carry the madness of love of Truth in your heart and in your heart be enamored with God!</blockquote>This chant is followed by a supplication that Ostad Elahi was quite fond of. Its melody was inspired by Mansūrī, an archetypal learned Persian melody (gūshe). The chanted text is a poem written in honor of Shāh Khoshīn6 by one of his spiritual companions, who conveys his boundless love for the Divine:<blockquote>Az avval to būdī yā dīn yā dīn Ali Ali Ali Hū Hū Ākheram to bāshī Az qatre-ye āb-e, Az qatre-ye āb-e manī ey dīn Ali Ali Manat kardī naqqāshī yā Mowlām yā Mowlām Bā behesht o dūzakhat hey Mowlām kārī nadāram Omīdvāram yā Ali to bā man bāshī AliFrom the beginning, there was You In the end, it will be just 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!</blockquote>This passage is followed by Mobārak Bādā (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 shotorī7—a melodious, soft, and serene piece whose moderate swaying evokes the tingling bells of a moving caravan.<ol class="number"><li value=1>The Persian setār is a classical three-stringed instrument belonging to the family of long-necked lutes.</li><li value=2>Ostad used to play the Persian setār in his own personal way, at times 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).</li><li value=3>Mansūr Hallāj (d. 922), 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.”</li><li value=4>Zachary, who was the father of Saint John the Baptist, was wrongly accused of a crime and sawn in half.</li><li value=5>Hoseyn (626-680), the grandson of the prophet Muhammad and the third imam in Twelver Shiism, was martyred in Karbalā.</li><li value=6>Shāh Khoshīn, a prominent eleventh century Kurdish saint, formalized the tanbur as a sacred instrument.</li><li value=7>Zang-e Shotorī (“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.</li></ol>

Yā Shāh to Bā Man Bāshī

Saharī is usually played to announce dawn and the awakening of nature. It can also be perceived as a call for the soul to awaken and experience more intensely the effect of the One, which is present everywhere and in everything, and to not be negligent or sluggish while all of creation sings and praises 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 Farangī 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 Ostad's 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.<ol class="number"><li value=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.</li></ol>

Saharī Suite

“Yā Soltān Āmān” is a zekr composed by Ostad during his youth, probably in the 1930s, during one of his journeys to the shrine of Soltān. This version is performed on a tār (a long-necked lute from the learned Persian tradition) and is accompanied by a daf (a frame drum struck with the hand).The original lyrics of this zekr are:<blockquote>Yā Soltān Āmān Āgerem Dāy Dasht-e awrāmān wāvarem dāyO Soltān, mercy, you have set me aflame You have laid the plain of Awrāmān1 at my feet</blockquote>On this recording, however, Ostad does not sing these words but introduces subtle variations invoking the Divine (“Yā Ali Jān,” “Haqq Ali Jān,” “Mowlām Ali,” “Yā Ali Āmān”). 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 each time a rhythmic impulse and energy that revives the dynamics of the piece. A festive feeling and joy predominate, as the melody is light and the rhythm lively.<ol class="number"><li value=1>Awrāmān is a region in Kurdestān that occupies a symbolic role in the Ahl-e Haqq tradition.</li></ol>

Variations on the Yā Soltān Āmān Āgerem Dāy Melody

Ostad often played this suite, but rarely on the five-stringed tanbur; this is the only recording of its kind. In a calm and peaceful atmosphere, he introduces the piece with these words:<blockquote>Ey Khodāvand-e tabārak va taālā rūh-e mān va tavajoh-e mān be sūy-e Tost Ey Khodāyā Īnak barāy-e meymanat-e shab-e emshab ke shab-e mobārakī be nazar mīresad, īnak shurū mīkonīm be yek Jelo Shāhī Omīdvāram ke pasand-e maqām-e Manavī beshavad. Hū yā AliO 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 Shāhī. I hope it will meet with the approval of the spiritual Rank.</blockquote>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 film. 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 Shāhī suite are all discernable,1 they are played here with complete freedom of improvisation. At times they are played faster, and at times they can only be heard between two cavalcades: the rhythms are races, gallops, and rushing whirlwinds. Each melody appears to want to displace the prior 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 freedom that was among the hallmarks of his playing.<ol class="number"><li value=1>See The Celestial Music of Ostad Elahi, compact disc (Paris: Le Chant du Monde, 1996/2004), track 1.</li></ol>

Jelo Shāhī Suite on the Five-Stringed Tanbur

My Beginning and My End

Tanbur Panj Sīmī

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.

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>

Shoq-e Shādīman

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Renditions of Shoq-e Shādīman

More Hymns on same Album

Shoq-e ShādīmanVocal

Details

Renditions of Shoq-e Shādīman

More Hymns on same Album

Shoq-e Shādīman