I was at the Hollywood Bowl last night watching "The Celebration of Rumi." It was his 801st birthday.
Yo-Yo Ma, Kayhan Kalhor, The Whirling Durvishes of Damascus, and Kurdish Ghaderi were some of the festivities. There were truly amazing performances and Yo-Yo Ma accompanied one of Kayhan Kalhor's original compositions, a pretty revolutionary piece where traditional persian instruments melded together with violins, cellos, and a bass.
But what really hit me was the first performance. Kayhan introduced a local man from Iran who played the Tar. He was walked out and directed to head to the center of the stage where there was a rug laid out and 2 microphones for him. He followed the instructions he had rehearsed time and time before, but he kept looking back, making sure he was going the right way. Here was a man that's used to farming and living in a mud house and praying towards Mecca 5 times a day and playing the Tar in his free time. He wore traditional loose white and black clothing and had a white turban. He was in Hollywood in front of at least 5000 people - in the Hollywood Bowl - sitting cross legged on stage with one of the only things he knew, his music. He started with a prayer that wasn't too discernible because the mic wasn't situated. His giant head was projected onto four screens across the bowl.
He began playing the Tar, eyes open, just swaying back and forth now and then to the music. He kept looking forward, who knows what he was really looking at. He told some story in a Kurdish dialect I don't understand. But when he began singing, oh my god. His voice entranced me. It brought me back to the mornings in my grandparents house when I'd wake up to the singing of the Koran from the mosque at 5 in the morning.
This humble man gave his soul to the Hollywood Bowl. It was the most passionate display of music I've ever seen.
What if opportunities never come? One of my greatest fears.
But for now, I'm gonna keep working. Giving up sounded so good.
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