Riad Abdel-Gawad: reviews

When a musician combines technical skill with the right amount of soul, tarab is what ensues—a state of ecstasy shared by both performer and listener. So it makes sense that violinist Riad Abdel-Gawad, who happens to own a Ph.D. from Harvard, would refer to this heightened state in the title of his CD. Western jazz and blues modes often connect naturally to the ancient Arabic styles of composition and improvisation, and Abdel- Gawad’s command of both worlds lends his music a taste of the ecstatic and the avant-garde. Backed by a classical Arab ensemble of oud, nay (flute), riqq (Arabic tambourine) and qanun (zither), he delivers four extended pieces that immediately conjure an Egyptian classical sound—due in no small part to his upbringing in Cairo, as well as the regional popularity of the legendary Syrian-born violinist-composer Sami Al-Shawwa, whom Abdel- Gawad claims as an indirect influence. El Tarab El Aseel is an album of sweeping drones, patient tempos and endless possibilities for a music whose evolution began long before the invention of the phonograph.

Profoundly influenced by Syrian-born violinist and composer Sami Shawwa, Riad Abdel-Gawad captures the essence of his own roots in Cairo with this adventurous piece. By turns lush, meditative and revelatory, this is Egyptian classical music at its finest.

On El Tarab El Aseel, Riad Abdel-Gawad has concocted an amalgamation of the western classical training he acquired while studying abroad and the traditional Egyptian forms of his birthplace in Cairo. Rather appropriately, the album was also recorded and mixed in Cairo with an emphasis on using the traditional Arabic ensemble of five, known as the "takht". In this ensemble Abdel-Gawad plays the violin in plcae of its two-stringed ancestor known as the "kamangah". The remaining four instruments present on El Tarab El Aseel are indigenous Arabic versions of the lute, flute, tambourine and trapezoidal zither. It is from this highly traditional Middle Eastern arrangement that Abdel-Gawad chooses to navigate the peripheries of conventional Arabic composition.

Beginning with "Longa Nahawand" the full-bodied texture of the "takht" ensemble is briefly revealed before separating into a sparse atmosphere resembling loose improvisation on a compositional thread. This is a re-occurring element of the music throughout El Tarab El Aseel's four tracks. Adhering strictly to neither improvisation nor perfectly defined composition, the songs ebb in and out of unified themes. It is not uncommon for a highly structured section with all instruments playing identical melodic lines to leap unexpectedly out of a serene, nearly shapeless passage. However, this is not necessarily a negative; despite not always having a gradual build the contrasts give a taste of both the hypnotic and rhythmically lively aspects of Arabic music side by side. Within this relationship of pronounced alternations the percussive sections are typically the more memorable of the two, though it must be said that the improvisational moments can definitely be a welcome point of arrival for those with a leaning towards the meditative.

Aligned with the frequent contrasts between hypnotic and lively as heard on El Tarab El Aseel, Abdel-Gawad often creates quick transitions between different melodic modes. This technique is especially audible on "Sama’i Sultana Ayah" which closes the album with several nearly (though enjoyably) schizophrenic moments. To be more accurate, the interplay between instruments on this final track is closer in resemblance to a highly animated conversation among a group of people than that of a split personality. However, these exchanges are often so polarized that it is as if the participants do not share the same mother tongue. Interestingly enough, this ultimately works in the album's favour. As these songs are a representation of Abdel-Gawad's time spent exploring different schools of musical history, this type of musical dialogue between cultures is the ideal way to reflect his experience. In that regard El Tarab El Aseel is a definite success.

History through Music

If you are doing a thesis on Middle Eastern music, then your journey begins here. This recording is in the modal form of Arabic music or the discoveries of the ancient poet/musicians of the Byzantine Empire that traveled from the Middle East and North Africa and followed where Islam trekked from Spain to Southern Europe. On El Tarab El Aseel: Autochthonic Enchantment, there is a kind of purity to the music. It remains unspoiled by mixing consoles and overly anxious producers. The ethnic arrangements are a true representation of a segment of Middle Eastern compositions that are the very foundation of the genre. Incidentally, four years of Latin let me down. I had to look up autochthonic. In this case, it is music from where it is found or indigenous. Perhaps there is a double entendre to improvisations.

Riad Abdel-Gawad is a Harvard trained musician that has more degrees than a Celsius thermometer that warms all from Belgium to France and Southern California to Cincinnati. He trained in Western classical violin, but his album embraces the style of taqasim or Arabic improvisation and tarab the art of musical ecstasy. He utilizes acoustic ethnic instruments and composition skills deeply rooted in the past. Together they make for a recording that is enjoyable and at the same time historically correct.

El Tarab El Aseel: Autochthonic Enchantment is divided into four parts; the first element is called
Longa Nahawand. Middle Eastern music is comprised of several modes and unlike Western music, it takes a listener quite some to to hear a pattern in this music, but if you wait long enough it becomes evident. This tune starts out with what sounds like an oriental influence. The fifteen-minute tune is a duel between violin and zither. It is a chase, a canter if you will as the instruments vie for your attention. Deep inside the melody is a spirit of celebration or perhaps discovery.

Qiblah, the second track has a bit more spirit and structure than the first track. It feels and sounds more like an animated dance and the music more akin to folk music. The ticking percussion and whirling melody makes you want to participate, to be part of the performance. The song is somewhat familiar as it has an interpretation familiar to Western ears, but only for a short time before the music turns to new territory once again.

We are fortunate to have a Greek title for track three, Delta. It is usually reserved for the mouth of a river with a rich silt buildup, but in this case it is a depository of singular styles that co-mingle into a lively cacophony of performances featuring the unusual instruments. I truly liked the performance of the nay or Arab flute that lent a bit of magic to the tune.

Finally, the last track Sama ї Sultana Yakah. The song starts out on a very dramatic note, however the tone changes quickly and the tempo changes into something very Western for a time (no pun intended). The violin resumes its place in the lead and the tune has a push-pull timbre. The drama builds until the rest of the instruments unite into a series of energetic sweeps that seem to repeat in a quick pattern.

If you want to learn more about the Arabic melodic modes, known as maqamat than you can do no better than this recording. If you want to learn about music from not only another country, but from another century, than I recommend this album. After several listens, I truly felt that I was part of the music and after all, that is the magic of all music.

Riad Abdel-Gawad clearly strives to safeguard the Middle Eastern musical practice of taqaseem and tarab (the performance practice of musical ecstasy) not only in the open improvised forms, but in the pre-composed music as well. He creates a fusion of composing techniques and improvisatorial artistry, by combining intellect, personality, feeling (literally in Arabic, ahsaas) and soul (ruh).