News | The Persian Radif

January 11, 2007

When we think of music, we think of the Western classical system — a series of base notes and semitones, use of harmony in composition, and a musical tradition that is scripted and remains constant no matter what the instrument or type of music you are reading. There is a reassuring certainty to knowing that middle C will always be middle C whether you are singing or playing the violin, and that if two singers are reading the first tenor line in the score of, say, Verdi’s Requiem, assuming all goes well they will be singing the same notes at the same time in the same meter.

Imagine then a world of music far more intuitive and fluid — one whose musical landscape is mainly melodic, includes microtones in addition to base notes and semitones, and relies heavily on improvisation; one that, though an ancient art form, until the twentieth century was never written down in any form whatsoever; whose essence is not dramatic or cerebral but rather mystical and contemplative; whose closest relative in Western music might be certain kinds of free-form jazz or electronic music — the classical Persian Radif.

The Radif is the collection of musical material that is the basis for all Persian music, passed generation to generation from a master musician to his students through oral tradition. Much of the music has no specific meter, or beat, but follows a rhythm like that of speech and is likely related to the rhythms of Persian poetry. It is a musical tradition that is inherently improvisatorial and deeply personal, and when the musician performs his music for an audience it is meant to be an expression of spirituality, or of love.

The Radif, which literally means “row” or “series”, consists of twelve dastgahs, or tonal systems. Each dastgah has its own repertory of melodies, each of which is called a gushe. The Ostad, or Master, teaches his students “chest to chest” — they learn his version of the Radif, internalize it, then develop and eventually perform their own. The student becomes a master when he has reached a level of technical, emotional and innovative virtuosity which allows him to improvise freely and richly in performance and in teaching.

It is this level of artistry that master musicians Manoochehr Sadeghi and Pejman Hadadi bring to this first L.A. is the World commission. Both musicians are passionate, soulful players whose improvisatory skills are finely honed. The challenge for composer Eve Beglarian is to navigate between the Western and the Persian traditions and compose a piece of music that is part of their world and yet wholly her own.

— Miki Shelton