I have always been fascinated by the Turkish civilization ever since the golden days of the Ottoman Empire, way before the wave of the Turkish series invaded our daily lives. I thought there’s nothing in the world that can force me to change my clothes yesterday evening for it was freezing but I stood corrected.
I accidentally knew there was a band performance by a Turkish orchestra and the location couldn’t be more convenient to me, just 10 footsteps away:Beit El Fann. I asked Farah to join me and I’m glad she didn’t hesitate a second 🙂 and we went together.
It was surprisingly crowded, the stage is small but it was perfect for the three artists who began playing 3 very familiar instruments to me: The Ney, The Qanoon and Rababa. The first piece was only music, the second that followed was a song. I didn’t understand a word of course, but I received all the vibes they were trying to send. I felt pain, yearning as well as joy. I sneaked a peak at Farah next to me and I saw her teary eyes at a point and I felt relieved knowing she has enjoyed it as much as I did.
One of the musicians tore a cord and broke his instrument. I love how the other two improvised and covered up for him. This of course prevented them from playing the prepared variety mentioned in the brochure.
At the end, one of them spoke in weak English: We hope you like our performance, sorry my friend instrument break. Farah insisted we go talk to them, so we waited till everyone left the stage and had a small chat with them. I asked him about the violin that broke, he insisted it’s a kamanje, a classical violin. They asked us if we liked the show, I told them it’s true we don’t understand your language but we were able to relate. I guess this is why music is an international language. It is felt not spoken.