Āhang-e Farangī

Gūshe-ye Do Bālā dar kūk-e Farangī

Gūshe-ye Zīr Dastān dar Farangī

Gūshe-ye Karīm Khānī dar Farangī

Bargasht be Farangī

Zang-e Shotorī

Shān Jonbān

Yār Mobārak Bād dar Farangī

Sārū Khānī dar Farangī

The name literally evokes the song (Khānī) of a starling (sār); it may also be a reference to the saint (Sārū Khān) who composed it.

The name literally evokes the song (Khānī) of a starling (sār); it may also be a reference to the saint (Sārū Khān) who composed it.

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>

Nakīsā and Bārbad Suite

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

Tanbur

Instrumental

 Seconds (Farangī)

Farangī (“Frank” or “European”) here means foreign. One speaks of Farangī tuning (kūk-e farangī) 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 Shāhī melody, Ostad returns to the original rhythm and theme, without breaking the overall continuity.

Farangī

Rostam was a legendary Iranian hero whose story is recounted in the famous Book of Kings by the Persian poet Ferdowsī (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 (khān) in his arduous journey. Used metaphorically, the expression “Haft Khān-e Rostam” (the seven ordeals of Rostam) refers to the successive ordeals one must undergo in order to reach a particular goal.The Haft Khān-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. Ostad Elahi frequently incorporates narrative references in his music as a foundation to help the audience grasp the spiritual levels and stages of the metaphysical world, inviting them to explore these realms. The "Seven Trials" (Haft Khān) may also be a reference to the Seven Valleys of Love by Attār, the 12th-century Persian poet and mystic: the Valley of the Quest, the Valley of Love, the Valley of Knowledge, the Valley of Detachment, the Valley of Unity, the Valley of Wonderment, and the Valley of Poverty and Annihilation in God (Fanā fil-Lāh). In the course of the suite, each of these seven sequences (called Khān-e 1, Khān-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. Khān-e 1 Extreme sobriety permeates the entire piece, which remains within a single semitone; an intensified effect results when a whole tone appears.b. Khān-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. Khān-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. Khān-e 4 The invariable rhythm expresses a kind of obstinacy.e. Khān-e 5 An unprecedented note located beyond the fifth transforms the relations between the elements and introduces an unexpected mode.f. Khān-e 6 A higher register and the emergence of a bright pattern enhance the nobility of the whole sequence.g. Khān-e 7 Like a leitmotif, the chromatic fifths are repeated; the playing reaches the heights of virtuosity.<ol class="number"><li value=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.</li></ol>

Haft Khān-e Rostam Suite

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 Jafarīb. Tarz-e Khān Bābā Khānc. Tarz-e Leylī o Majnūn This sequence refers to the pure love—first passionate and then sublimated—of Leylī and Majnūn, whose story is recognized as a parable of mystical love as recounted by the Persian poet Nezāmī (1140-1209).d. Tarz-e Mūye “Mūye” means lamentation.e. Tarz-e Arke Bāzī An ancient courtly melody transformed into the tanbur repertoire.f. Tarz-e Marhūm-e Seyd Brāka (Tarz-e Sūz o Godāz) This piece is dedicated to Seyd Brāka, a 19th century saint whose generosity and chivalry were especially praised by Ostad. Quite lyrical, it is rendered as a song. “Sūz” here means an inner burning, the torment of one separated from the Beloved, a suffering that awakens and purifies the soul. “Godāz” signifies that this burning is so intense that one’s state can be likened to that of molten metal.g. Tarz-e Teymūrī The final sequence is dedicated to Teymūr, a great saint martyred in Kermānshāh in 1865.

Tarz Suite (1-8)

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 Dāwūd 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, Hādj Nemat.Ostad Elahi often played the tanbur in the intimate setting of his family circle, wherein others would participate by chanting repeated refrains of the melodies.a. Wa Nokht-e Kalām Dīdadār-e shūn<blockquote>Wa nokht-e kalām dīdadār-e shūn Yārān shokor Mowlāmān hāt Beshnāsān Mowlām āmā dūnādūn Yārān shokor Mowlāmān hātAs 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!</blockquote>b. Zāt-e Yār Dāwed Hāzeran va Jam<blockquote>Zāt-e yār Dāwed hāzeran va jam Khosh va hāl kasī dīdanesh va tchamThe essence of Dāwūd is present in the gathering How fortunate is he who beholds it with his eyes</blockquote>c. Dam Dam-e Isā Rūhollāh Nāman<blockquote>Dam dam-e Isā Rūhollāh nāman Avval Jebrāīl ākher Benyāman Benyām parwāna khāwandkār shaman Sham showq-e jamāl Mowlāy MojremanThe breath is the breath of Jesus, whose name is the Spirit of God At first Gabriel and in the end Benyāmīn He is the butterfly and God the candle The candle reflects the splendorous beauty of Mojrem’s Lord1</blockquote><ol class="number"><li value=1>“Mojrem” was one of Hādj Nemat’s pen names.</li></ol>

Songs

This eight-part suite relates to Nezāmī’s tragic story, the impossible love of Farhād, the Kurd, for Shīrīn, the Armenian princess, at the time of the Sassanid king, Khosrow Parvīz. Transposed to a spiritual level, the theme is expressed through sober and nostalgic melodies.a. Shīrīn Mayā Khālb. Lāwe Lāwe This ode, which expresses the suffering caused by the absence of the Beloved, is by Hādj Nemat.c. Gharībī This theme evokes the feeling of nostalgia and loneliness caused by the soul’s exile in the body.d. Gel wa Dare 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. Seyd Khāmūsh’s Saharī Seyd Khāmūsh was a 15th century mystic, and Saharī 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 Hāy Sanam This melody presents the devotion of a pious person to his Beloved.g. Tārī Hey Tārīh. Shīrīn Khāwar 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.

Shāh Hoseynī Suite (Part Two)

This piece belongs to the category of Kurdish dances traditionally performed on the occasion of weddings or joyous celebrations. It used to be called “Razbārī” 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.

Sārū Khānī dar Farangī

Details

Renditions of Sārū Khānī dar Farangī

More of Farangī on same Album