One of the ironies of the current vogue for so-called world musics is that the adventurous listener often finds himself championing forms exotic to his ear which are, in their true context, fundamentally conservative. To be a traditional musician, wholeheartedly, is to be inflexible, resistant to change – and music that does not change hardens, calcifies, dies inside. 

AnouarBrahem, a 33 year old and virtuoso (I don’t use the term casually) who holds the title Director of the Musical Ensemble of the City of Tunis, is acutely aware of this. Of his country’s players he laments, “we’ve lost much of the traditional instinctive interaction inherent in small groups of improvising musicians”. He fights against the malaise by refusing to limit himself to the exclusively Tunisian, however that might be defined, asking himself how many other idioms his branch of Arab music can move towards without compromising its integrity. He claims, for example, the right to examine “all the things left in my country by the colonialists, the occupiers”, thereby giving himself access to the musics of Spain, Turkey, Morocco, France and more; since the Roman occupation of the 2nd century B.C., Tunisia has changed hands constantly. Brahem’s partner on three of Barzakh’s tracks (including the crucial title piece), violinist BechirSelmi, says: “Anouaris playing a music without borders... and that’s as it should be. Music cannot be contained within national boundaries.”
AnouarBrahem, a modern musician with profound for and knowledge of Arab classical music, is disinclined to be caged by its history. 

He began playing the oud at 11, going on to receive a Diploma in Arab Music at the Tunis Conservatory and taking additional studies with oud master Ali Srithi, who now insists that “AnouarBrahemis the best lutenist in Tunisia. He has the touch and the feel. Only he knows the secret.” This view is not yet unanimously endorsed by other Tunisian musicians, some of whom view his innovations with suspicion. On the other hand, he has a growing following among the more progressive players. BechirSelmitakes a special pleasure in the fact that Brahemhas established the validity of an instrumental music in Tunisia. “With Anouar, a musician always feels he has more freedom than if he has to restrict himself to working around a singer.” Throughout the Islamic world, the singer and the song have held sway for centuries, even in such countries as Iran where an independent instrumental tradition has existed (albeit forced underground often enough).

Beyond the traditional field – to which he always returns for sustenance – Brahemhas composed for ballet, theatre, and film, and mounted a number of large-scale “spectacles” in Tunisia, each conceived as a theatrical totality, with choice of venue, lighting and costumes interconnected with the music, the entire event awakening, by the musicians’ account, a “sense of ritual”. Such work led to his receiving Tunisia’s Grand Prix National de la Musique; he is the youngest artist to have received this award.

He has also embarked on many collaborations with musicians from other countries and cultures, including Renaissance lutenists, classical guitarists, flamenco players, sitarists. His resumé includes performances with Cameroon saxophonist Manu Dibangoand Chicagoan-Chilean-Pakistani jazz guitarist FareedHaque.

Although three self-produced cassettes were issued in his homeland, Barzakhis AnouarBrahem’s first album proper. It is almost impossible to buy records in Tunisia, let alone make them, and Brahem’s broad musical knowledge is attributable to his travels. He has toured in Algeria, Morocco, Spain, France, Italy, Yugoslavia, the USA and Canada and, for three years in the early 80s, was living in Paris, the city hailed by many as the crucible of the world’s folk resources on account of its large and extremely varied immigrant population.

It was while in Paris that he heard Keith Jarrett’s Facing You, an album that excited him greatly. Jarrett, he says, “often sounds extremely Andalusian when improvising on modes”. Further discographicalinvestigations made an ECM aficionado out of him and by the time he reached Oslo for his own session he was exceptionally well-informed about the company’s history, directions, and production policy. Listening to the just-mixed final version of Gavin Bryars’s After The Requiem one evening at Rainbow, AnouarBrahemresponded with a perspicacity one wouldn’t expect of many western musicians.

His ECM debut was first projected as a solo album, the lutenist opting to add violinist BechirSelmiand percussionist LassadHosnito the session to colourspecific pieces. Though the musicians have played with each other in various contexts for years, they had never before worked in trio as they do on “Parfumde Gitane” and “Kerkenah”.

They are three very different characters. The trim, dapper Brahem, a strong-minded conceptualist, is very definitely the team leader. Selmiis an inspired working musician, open- minded, glad of a challenge, ready to play on any premise. It’s tempting, but too limiting, to think of him as an Arab Grappellito Anouar’s Django, although “Parfumde Gitane” certainly suggests a Hot Club de Tunis. Hosni’s a good-natured, enthusiastic back-up man – it’s no surprise to learn that he plays a lot of parties and weddings back home – a gentle giant of a drummer, where Brahemand Selmiare slight of build.

As a child BechirSelmiplayed the nay, the Arab flute, switching to violin at 15. At the Tunis conservatory, he studied both Arab music and Western classical and contemporary music, the latter under Czech and Bulgarian teachers – hence the intimation of a Janacek-Bartok Slovakian folk strain in his playing. But he is proud that the violin has its origins in Arab music (the art of bowing, in fact, was first established in the Islamic empire about 1000 years ago) and has recently begun to teach Near Eastern approaches to the instrument. Selmiis in the full-time employ of Tunisian television station RTT and plays constantly on its music programmes. “I am chained to my work”, he jokes. He is keen to acknowledge the pioneering work of three older Tunisian violinists who have influenced him greatly: RidhaKalai, NaceurZguondeand BelguacemAmaer, all now in their sixties. In 1987, Selmijoined the Musical Ensemble Of Tunis and, subsequently, has participated in all of Brahem’s Tunisian concerts.

Selmihas toured the Gulf countries playing both ancient and modern Arab music and says he experienced a personal breakthrough in 1988 while playing at the Opera in Cairo to an audience of musicians. “I gave them everything I had and I didn’t know what I gave them. I lost myself completely in the music, forgot the people in front of me, forgot my life. It was only afterwards I could piece together what I’d done.”

This intense commitment to the music’s flow is conveyed in “Barzakh”. The name, Brahemexplains, refers to “the place of rest and tranquility where the soul goes before resurrection. It is an isthmus or transition.” Brahemsays that for him “Barzakh” is “the album’s most important piece”. It was developed spontaneously in the studio in response to a production request for a slowly-unfolding legato performance to counterbalance the speeding rush of dazzling pieces like “Raf Raf” and “Sarandib”. It’s a question of emotion as opposed to adrenaline. There’s a place for both of course.

Percussionist LassadHosni, in contrast to his well-schooled colleagues, is self-taught. Like drummers everywhere he beat the walls and the table as a child. At 14, he started playing darbouka, the clay goblet-drum capped with fish-skin for fast, snappy action. At 16 he was „making money with it.” It’s still his favouriteinstrument. Nonetheless at 17 he began to look at the Arab frame drum called the bendirand had to allow that, yes, despite its deeper, more ponderous sound that instrument had a lot of expressive potential, too. Hosniplays bendiron “Parfumde Gitane” and “Kerkenah”, darboukaon his two solo pieces “Souga” and “Bou Naouara”. The titles of the solos refer to the respective primary rhythms employed. “Souga” also includes a stambalirhythm, “the rhythm of the black Tunisians”, according to Hosni, while “Bou Naouara” which means literally “father of the flower”, reflects upon a chain of rhythms includ­ ing the mramba, the tounsi, and the Algerian goubahi. LassadHosniclaims to be the only Tunisian darboukaplayer taking extended solos. His criteria for excellence? “When I play, I ask myself: Does it sound sweet?” 

LassadHosnifirst worked with AnouarBrahemin 1980. He is, additionally, a member of the Tunisian Folklore Group, which has toured widely under the auspices of the Tunisian Ministry of Culture, and has worked extensively with dancers and singers. I asked if he had any favourites amongst the vocalists he’s worked with and he wrote some names in my notebook. Half an hour later, he crossed the list out. All the oth­ er singers would be jealous, he explained. Better I mention just a couple of important dancers, Selwa Mohamed and Kawthar Cherif, and leave it at that.

In the cross-cultural zone, Hosni recently found himself working alongside Omar Hakim on a recording date with Theresa de Sio. The Neapolitan singer, having decided to cover one of Anouar Brahem’s tunes (”a piece almost like a Tunisian reggae”) brought the composer and his accompanist to the studio to participate ... but that’s a long way from the matter at hand. 

With the exception of “Kerkenah” (the title alludes to the Tunisian island of the same name), recorded on the first, somewhat overexcited day of the Oslo session, all of Barzakhderives from a single day’s work. Brahem, marshallingall his resources, spun out solo pieces of a jewelledbrilliance. Almost everything he played on Day Two merited inclusion on the record. 

At his best, Brahemreveals exceptional clarity of execution and sensitivity to coloureven when moving at top speed. Listen to the delightful “Sarandib” (the ancient name of Sri Lanka in Arabic), which challenges the fingers like one of Paganini’s Capricci.

The short pieces “Hou” and “Qaf” began life as alternate takes of the same tune. “They’re like haikus”, Brahemsaid, and indeed they are, each snaring a mood in a single, gentle pass. “Hou”, Brahemexplains, is a contraction of the word Houaused in liturgical chants, while “Qaf” is a mythical mountain in Arab legend.

”He wanders freely amongstthe universes, all of which are one: those which he inhabits, and those which inhabit him” –  so, rather grandly, writes critic B. Ben Miladof one of Brahem’s Tunisian concerts. Brahemmay soon be wandering freely out of Tunis, feeling the need to move on again.
”It may be time for me to leave”, he says. “I’d like to explore more of the world, live in India for six months, meet and play with a broader range of musicians. It’s dangerous if you keep playing to the same audience. It’s really important that the music should change and grow.”

Steve Lake 

6★, Epochal, "Mittelbayerische Zeitung" (Germany)