Saturday, February 24, 2007

Sufi or not Sufi?

By Walter Tunis - Kentucky Com - Lexington, KY, U.S.A.
Friday, February 23, 2007

The Whirling Dervishes of Rumi at the Singletary Center: Sufi or not Sufi? That was the question facing an unexpectedly packed Singletary concert hall as a two-hour program devoted to the Sema Ritual, or the Whirling Dervishes, was put into motion.

More a spiritual ceremony than an actual performance, the program was divided into sections of live Turkish Sufi music performed by a vocalist and instrumental trio (playing wooden flute, the lute-like oud and a hand-held qanun, which was akin to an autoharp but with far greater range) and a half-hour segment in which the Dervishes -- adorned in skirt-like robes and cylindrical hats -- revolved with almost eerie, incantatory calm.

Attempting to explain the depth of the Sufi inspirations in this ceremony would certainly do its history and faith injustice. But viewed from the perspective of a curious outsider unacquainted with the teachings of the 13th-century poet Rumi, who remains a defining spiritual influence for the Whirling Dervishes, the program was a generous glimpse into another culture.

A brief film provided some insight, such as that much Sufi music takes its cue from flute improvisations. But to these very Western ears, it sounded very composed and just as reliant on the percussive textures of the oud.

Fascinating as this sort of minimalist ceremony was, the trance-like state of the four spinning Dervishes (a fifth quietly collapsed early into the dance, a move that seemed altogether unplanned) probably held a greater meditative sway for those onstage than for those watching.

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Saturday, February 24, 2007

Sufi or not Sufi?
By Walter Tunis - Kentucky Com - Lexington, KY, U.S.A.
Friday, February 23, 2007

The Whirling Dervishes of Rumi at the Singletary Center: Sufi or not Sufi? That was the question facing an unexpectedly packed Singletary concert hall as a two-hour program devoted to the Sema Ritual, or the Whirling Dervishes, was put into motion.

More a spiritual ceremony than an actual performance, the program was divided into sections of live Turkish Sufi music performed by a vocalist and instrumental trio (playing wooden flute, the lute-like oud and a hand-held qanun, which was akin to an autoharp but with far greater range) and a half-hour segment in which the Dervishes -- adorned in skirt-like robes and cylindrical hats -- revolved with almost eerie, incantatory calm.

Attempting to explain the depth of the Sufi inspirations in this ceremony would certainly do its history and faith injustice. But viewed from the perspective of a curious outsider unacquainted with the teachings of the 13th-century poet Rumi, who remains a defining spiritual influence for the Whirling Dervishes, the program was a generous glimpse into another culture.

A brief film provided some insight, such as that much Sufi music takes its cue from flute improvisations. But to these very Western ears, it sounded very composed and just as reliant on the percussive textures of the oud.

Fascinating as this sort of minimalist ceremony was, the trance-like state of the four spinning Dervishes (a fifth quietly collapsed early into the dance, a move that seemed altogether unplanned) probably held a greater meditative sway for those onstage than for those watching.

No comments: