Anouar Brahem

Transcending Traditions

The Art of Anouar Brahem

Kevin Le Gendre

“Blue Maqams” is an intriguing combination of words. It is the title of the latest album and live program by the Tunisian oud virtuoso Anouar Brahem, and it is also a fascinating encounter between English and Arabic—an idea that stems from the artist’s desire to say something specific without giving away anything in particular.

“I wanted an Arabic word in the title, that’s why maqam is there, and I just had the color blue in mind, with no special meaning,” Brahem says. “I came up with it before making the album. But when we were recording I found myself playing in the maqam.” The term refers to the age-old patterns of notes—or modes—at the heart of the deeply expressive classical music made in North Africa and the Middle East. This is the culture in which Brahem is steeped, yet he has also embraced many Western art forms in the course of a highly adventurous career spanning more than three decades. Among these, most of all, there is African-American music. “I’ve never tried to be a jazz musician and I don’t consider myself to be one,” Brahem says. “But I feel as if I have the mindset of a jazz musician, or that I’m still very connected to the music.”

In any case, Blue Maqams is a resounding confirmation of his composing and improvising skills in the company of American and European players working at the highest creative level: double bassist Dave Holland, pianist Django Bates, and (on the recording) drummer Jack DeJohnette, who for tonight’s concert is replaced by Nasheet Waits. These musicians are leaders in their own right as well as in-demand accompanists who have backed a number of iconic artists including Dudu Pukwana, Miles Davis, Evan Parker, Sidsel Endresen, and Jason Moran.

Brahem himself has been winning plaudits since his 1991 debut Barzakh. He has consistently represented an entirely progressive spirit in Arabic music that is deeply rooted in local traditions but also shaped by an international outlook. His 1994 album Madar, for which Brahem was joined by Norwegian saxophonist Jan Garbarek and Indian tabla maestro Ustad Shaukat Hussain, is one of the key entries in the oud player’s discography, capturing the listener with its majestic lyricism, measured solos, and advanced interplay. 1998’s Thimar, recorded together with Holland and multi–reed player John Surman, was another sublime offering that unveiled a “universal sound,” distinguished by the glowing beauty of the songs as well as the stealthy improvising.

The breadth of his output to date is something Brahem ascribes to an enduring spontaneity with regard to the lineup of every band he leads. “I never decide on the instrumentation beforehand,” he reveals. “I think that I just try and let the ideas flow and then, according to what happens when those ideas come to me, I’ll think more specifically about the instruments and players.”

Having said that, there was a definite sound that popped into his head when he was preparing to record Blue Maqams. “This time around the piano was uppermost in my mind from an early stage,” Brahem says of the genesis of this latest ensemble. “I spent a long time looking for the right pianist. There are lot of very good ones around today, but [the best person] had to be very subtle. I didn’t know Django Bates’s work, but after some lengthy discussions with Manfred Eicher [producer and founder of the ECM label, to which Brahem is signed], and after a lot of listening, Manfred played me something that he’d just recorded with Django. As soon as I heard that I thought, ‘Yeah, it would be good if I made the album with him.’

“I felt Django brought something special to what we were doing,” Brahem clarifies. “His touch, his pianissimo, is really good, and that was very important because the music is mostly melodic. So for the oud and the piano to blend, that lightness of touch, that very sensitive approach really had to be there. He seemed to have the right kind of emphasis and restraint.”

Brahem’s interest in music, which is both ethereal and evocative, is paralleled by a long-held passion for the dramatic arts, and the moving image in particular has had a pivotal place in the oud virtuoso’s personal development. Although he studied at the National Conservatory of Music in Tunis, Brahem expanded his musical horizons by playing along to all kinds of records at the age of 18. Some of his first public performances in the 1980s saw him focus on instrumental music rather than—more common for an oud player—accompany vocalists, which duly attracted the attention of several film and theater directors. His first experience playing with jazz musicians in fact was a studio session for a Tunisian film director.

By and large, Brahem’s work has leaned towards an intimate, often poetic form of chamber music, in which tantalizingly low volume is well served by either an absence of percussion or its discreet presence. Traditional Middle Eastern and Turkish instruments such as the bendir, a frame drum, and the goblet drum darbuka have been very effective in his arrangements, so it is notable that there is a drum kit featured in Blue Maqams. The lineup of Brahem’s 1994 album Khomsa did include the renowned Norwegian drummer Jon Christensen, but the additional rhythmic drive that comes from the use of snare, kick, and cymbals must, like the piano, be very carefully handled in the oud player’s work.

The true ability of his accompanists, Brahem says, is really measured by the high levels of concentration they can keep in the midst of a performance. “In any situation that I’ve been in, whether it’s with a group on stage or in the studio,” he explains, “one thing that has always been uppermost in my mind, and it really is an absolute pre-requisite, is how well musicians can listen. On stage, of course, everybody has monitors now so that we can hear each other better. Well, you know what? I really don’t like that at all. You have to use them within reason and bear in mind that music, certainly in the case of what I do, is acoustic, and overall listening is what counts most. One of the great qualities of the players I work with is their excellent listening ability, really tuning in.”

Relating to other cultures has also been crucial to Brahem’s creative growth, which makes his first appearance at the Pierre Boulez Saal, with its stylistically wide-ranging program, seem like a natural fit. The international bands he has led, with players from Africa, America, and Europe, are a direct reinforcement of a transcontinental lifestyle that has seen him live in both Tunis and Paris and perform all around the world. “Music has been an extraordinary way to travel for me. All the music I dis covered as a youngster— flamenco, Balkan, etc.—was part of a journey. I had my local surroundings as a kid, and music took me to other places. I relished the journey through listening—it has been one of the most fascinating things in my life.”

There is also a certain symbolism in the instrument he plays. The oud has a rich and varied history. “This is an instrument that has traveled,” Brahem says. “It was found in Iraq and Iran, it conquered the Arab world, the Balkans, Turkey, even became influential in Europe. It’s the ancestor of the Renaissance lute. Some people say the cultural object that has traveled the most in history is the musical instrument.”