The Mevlana Festival (Dec 2003)
Once again we owe a huge debt of gratitude to the
blessings of Hazrat Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi for his
hospitality in what I heard one person describe as a
'city of miracles'. It is true that this year was quieter
than many with respect to the usual invasion of foreign
visitors - the larger groups from Iran, Bulgaria and many
western countries were not so evident due presumably to
fears of the turbulent political times in which we live. But
nevertheless the city buzzed with excitement, and the
transfer of the large Sema performances of the whirling dervishes to a spectacular new
purpose built home was accomplished during this time. It was with just a little sadness
that we said goodbye to the Sports Stadium which had become such a familiar place
over the years. To have attended the last performance there and the first at the new
venue was to have been part of history.
Though not quite complete the new circular building, with a vastly increased seating
capacity and spectacular lighting, promises great things for the future and returns to the
Sema performance the dignity it deserves. On the opening night this year the building
was packed beyond seating capacity and was visited by the prime minister and his
entourage. Urgent business called him away before the actual Sema performance but
this too had an upside for the many who were standing like me and were then able to
find seats.
This year I was able again to attend the 'Konferance' (conference) at the august Seljuk
university where not only did distinguished scholars speak about Mevlana but we were
also treated to a dazzling and accomplished display of flute (Ney) playing by one of the
resident professors.
This also provided an interesting insight for me personally into Turkish culture. I was
sitting with a student of the university and a psychology professor both of whom spoke
excellent English. Both used the term 'perfect' in describing the skills of the musician. I
could not help but reflect on the use of this term - rather than 'brilliant' or 'great' or
'inspired' or some such other term. Then I realised that, of course, Turkish culture, along
with other middle eastern cultures I suspect, is a 'perfect culture' - that is to say it has
within its psyche a perfect model of culture, which includes social behaviour, which the
individual continuously aspires towards. Thus Turkish manners, dress etc - so subtly
impeccable - are a reflection of this aspiration. The western culture has deep in its
psyche a reverence for the new and innovative, the eastern cultures of which Turkish
culture is a part, has to absorb newness into its own pre-existent 'perfect' norms. It is
thus that the eastern culture acquires a subtlety that frequently makes western culture
appear crude for all its innovative and challenging qualities.
But culture is one thing - the inspiration of the heart another. I was treated to a second
(this time impromptu and private) Ney recital in the office of the hotel at which I stayed.
This was by a Mevlevi musician from the Turkish Government Ensemble that plays at
the main Sema. Here there was no question of 'culture' - this was playing from the heart
and speaking to the heart. For just a matter of perhaps fifteen minutes he played three
short pieces each on a Ney of a different size. Then Mevlana's poetic description of the
Ney made a whole new kind of sense. The notes stirring the heart, making it alive with
love. Then culture was nowhere but love was everywhere. The universal language of
Love - the message of Mevlana who was Iranian by birth, Turkish by adoption, a
Muslim by religion, a sufi by calling and a poet by inspiration, but the voice of Universal
Love by the Will of God.
Jamiluddin Morris Zahuri (Southampton, December 2003)
Once again we owe a huge debt of gratitude to the
blessings of Hazrat Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi for his
hospitality in what I heard one person describe as a
'city of miracles'. It is true that this year was quieter
than many with respect to the usual invasion of foreign
visitors - the larger groups from Iran, Bulgaria and many
western countries were not so evident due presumably to
fears of the turbulent political times in which we live. But
nevertheless the city buzzed with excitement, and the
transfer of the large Sema performances of the whirling dervishes to a spectacular new
purpose built home was accomplished during this time. It was with just a little sadness
that we said goodbye to the Sports Stadium which had become such a familiar place
over the years. To have attended the last performance there and the first at the new
venue was to have been part of history.
Though not quite complete the new circular building, with a vastly increased seating
capacity and spectacular lighting, promises great things for the future and returns to the
Sema performance the dignity it deserves. On the opening night this year the building
was packed beyond seating capacity and was visited by the prime minister and his
entourage. Urgent business called him away before the actual Sema performance but
this too had an upside for the many who were standing like me and were then able to
find seats.
This year I was able again to attend the 'Konferance' (conference) at the august Seljuk
university where not only did distinguished scholars speak about Mevlana but we were
also treated to a dazzling and accomplished display of flute (Ney) playing by one of the
resident professors.
This also provided an interesting insight for me personally into Turkish culture. I was
sitting with a student of the university and a psychology professor both of whom spoke
excellent English. Both used the term 'perfect' in describing the skills of the musician. I
could not help but reflect on the use of this term - rather than 'brilliant' or 'great' or
'inspired' or some such other term. Then I realised that, of course, Turkish culture, along
with other middle eastern cultures I suspect, is a 'perfect culture' - that is to say it has
within its psyche a perfect model of culture, which includes social behaviour, which the
individual continuously aspires towards. Thus Turkish manners, dress etc - so subtly
impeccable - are a reflection of this aspiration. The western culture has deep in its
psyche a reverence for the new and innovative, the eastern cultures of which Turkish
culture is a part, has to absorb newness into its own pre-existent 'perfect' norms. It is
thus that the eastern culture acquires a subtlety that frequently makes western culture
appear crude for all its innovative and challenging qualities.
But culture is one thing - the inspiration of the heart another. I was treated to a second
(this time impromptu and private) Ney recital in the office of the hotel at which I stayed.
This was by a Mevlevi musician from the Turkish Government Ensemble that plays at
the main Sema. Here there was no question of 'culture' - this was playing from the heart
and speaking to the heart. For just a matter of perhaps fifteen minutes he played three
short pieces each on a Ney of a different size. Then Mevlana's poetic description of the
Ney made a whole new kind of sense. The notes stirring the heart, making it alive with
love. Then culture was nowhere but love was everywhere. The universal language of
Love - the message of Mevlana who was Iranian by birth, Turkish by adoption, a
Muslim by religion, a sufi by calling and a poet by inspiration, but the voice of Universal
Love by the Will of God.
Jamiluddin Morris Zahuri (Southampton, December 2003)
