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Farid Ayaz Qawwal & Brothers
NEW YORK TIMES MUSIC REVIEW
November 3, 2000, Friday
"Sufi Passion That Rises To Ecstasy"
"Poetry is at the core of the Sufi devotional songs called qawwali.
The words praise saints, yearn for a beloved (who may be human or divine)
and extol spiritual ecstasy. At the same time, the music propels listeners
toward that ecstasy with steady handclapping, incantatory refrains,
surges of drumming and soaring vocal improvisations. Nusrat Fateh Ali
Khan, the singer who introduced many Westerners to qawwali before his
death in 1997, mesmerized audiences with long, spectacular stretches
of nonverbal vocalizing. Farid Ayaz Qawwal and Brothers, a nine-member
group that made its United States debut in a World Music Institute concert
at Symphony Space on Saturday night, stayed closer to the poetry while
their songs reached crest after crest.
The group's mentor is Munshi Raziuddin, now in his 90's, whose family
has sung qawwali for eight centuries. His sons Farid Ayaz and Abu Mohammed
sat by his side, playing harmoniums and trading vocals and keyboard
lines; the drumming came from Ali Akbar on tabla and Ghayoor Ahmed on
dholak, which is played with both hands and sticks. Other members clapped
hands and sang the refrains that spur each song. In traditional style,
the songs began with drones and free-floating improvisations, with the
melody slowly emerging amid filigreed harmonium lines. Over steady hand
clapping, Mr. Ayaz intoned the couplets of poetry, then sang them with
growing fervor. Sweetly restrained, smoothly curling phrases built up
to percussive flurries of notes, each one hit with a quivering intensity;
Mr. Ayaz's gentle tone grew rougher, more eager, while he played harmonium
lines parallel to his vocals or stabbed a finger upward like a preacher.
Mr. Mohammed picked up where Mr. Ayaz paused, creating his own ascending
arcs. Though their father spent most of the concert singing along on
responses, he also had a few solo passages, revealing a precise but
weathered voice. The music gathered momentum again and again, with multiplying
drumbeats and sharp attacks on the dholak. But the group refused to
let the music lose itself in wordless euphoria. After each volley of
vocal fireworks, Mr. Ayaz eased down the group and recited the next
couplet, offering another lesson to be transformed by music." By
JON PARELES Copyright
2001 The New York Times Company
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