Oudi Hrant and the Art of Taksim

Click the link to hear a "Husseini Taksim" played by Oudi Hrant
https://soundcloud.com/harry-kezelian/husseini-taksim-oudi-hrant

Taksim is a term for an improvised piece of music in the Near Eastern/Mediterranean tradition. The Eastern Armenians use the word "mugham" which when specified as an instrumental mugham, is basically the same thing as a taksim (there is also a vocal mugham). The Western Armenians whose tradition this blog is discussing use "taksim," as do the Greeks, Turks, Arabs and others (although spelled in various ways). I have also seen the word "Menanvak" which is a proper Armenian word meaning something like "solo piece of music." A taksim is something like a jazz solo, except in its classical form it is truly a "solo" with no meter, no chords, and no percussion backing it up. One person, playing one instrument, completely improvising a kind of melody.

The traditional genres of music, secular and religious, Christian and Muslim, in Greece and the Near/Middle East do not use scales in the western sense. Instead they use "modes" which to a layperson are basically scales, but in musicology there is a difference. In western music we also have modes, but we usually only use two: the major and the minor. Any scale called major, ie C major, D major, etc. is considered to be in the Major mode. In the near east, there are a ton of modes. The modes are called "makams"(various spellings) and have rules or guidelines attached to them. A traditional, classical taksim is an improvisation in a given mode, with "modulations" (transfers) to other modes, which follows the rules of the mode, and the guidelines of how to play a good taksim, but otherwise completely improvised by the musician, using no meter or rhythm (well some would argue there is a type of very long meter to it), and unaccompanied by any other instruments - as heard in the Oudi Hrant track attached to this post.

Blind musician Hrant Kenkulian (1901-1978), generally known as Oudi Hrant was a master of the oud (fretless lute) who was probably best known for his taksims. He was an Armenian born in Adapazar, a city close to Istanbul which had a large Armenian population before the Genocide of 1915. After WWI, Hrant's family settled in Istanbul. Hrant started out singing in the church choir, but soon moved on to the oud. He made his career in Istanbul, but he toured the US in 1950, and did a world tour in 1963 to Paris, Beirut, Greece, America, and Yerevan, Soviet Armenia. He was a teacher of many Armenian-American oudists including Richard Hagopian. He was the pride of the Armenian people, and many consider him to be the most soulful oudist ever to emerge from Turkey.

Although Hrant played oud taksims in the classical style he was also an innovator known for introducing upstrokes in oud playing, which in its traditional form had only used downstrokes, as well as many other new techniques.

Besides the "classical" taksim as heard in the Hrant clip, there are other types and times where improvisation is used in kef music. For example, short taksims are very very often used as an introduction to a piece, as seen in this video where Richard Hagopian does an intro taksim on oud before singing the popular Chakaji Zeybek: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ux7D-iQPMvk
With introductory taksims, the soloist is often accompanied by the other musicians playing drones, trills, and drumrolls.

In addition to the introductory taksims, American Armenians usually take solos in the middle of their songs just like jazz or rock musicians, and these can be considered a type of taksim, called in Turkish "usullu taksim" (rhythmic taksim), but Armenian-American musicians generally refer to a solo in a song as a "ride," i.e. taking a solo is "taking a ride." Taking a ride is more improvisational than a rock solo, which is often rehearsed and prepared beforehand, but more restricted than a jazz solo, which in modern jazz basically goes all over the place while a "ride" will stay in the same key and basic scale or mode, even if the classical rules are ignored. Here's a video of America's greatest Armenian clarinetist, Hachig Kazarian, taking a ride: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qUOlioWh_AA. As you can hear, the other instruments are keeping the rhythm for him to "take a ride" on although the video cuts off when they go back into the song. The rides are what makes kef music really a middle eastern equivalent to traditional jazz. Here's another ride, played by John Berberian, one of the best if not the best living Armenian oud player: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bVfxFE8MnTg

In traditional Classical Turkish music, taking "rides" was frowned upon and was considered a "gypsy" practice, although the traditional unaccompanied taksim (such as Hrant's) was highly regarded.

In eastern Armenian music, there is the concept of mughams which are basically the same as taksims. To be fair, here's a clip of an Eastern Armenian "mugham" played on tar, which takes the place that the oud has in kef music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nTSEZ_oXDUM

These improvisations are one of the main things separating Armenian-American kef music from other genres of Armenian music, such as pop, classical, Soviet-Armenian folk music as played by the State Dance Ensemble. But as we've seen above, improvisation isn't restricted to Western Armenians, Eastern Armenian folk music also has improvisation. But in any case, the solos are half the reason that "kefjis" (fans or players of Armenian-American kef music) are drawn to the music. Why? In their improvisations, the musicians have a chance to show off their virtousity, but also to put their heart and soul into the improvisation which expresses their emotions and moves the listeners. For example, on the album Kef Time Fresno, there is a 5 minute long clarinet Taksim by Hachig Kazarian. In the liner notes, it says: "His plaintiff [plaintive] Clarinet Taksim closes the album and all the torment and persecution of generations of Armenians, gone by, are reflected in this beautiful closing number." A taksim or ride can express that, or anything else. The emotions of the musicians expressed in their solos are truly the "soul" of kef music. 

10/8: if you have to ask, you'll never understand

 The title of this posting is, of course, a play on Louis Armstrong’s famous response to the question “what exactly is jazz?” So what is 10/8? 10/8 is a rhythm used in Armenian music, but even if you try and count it out you probably won’t get it; it has a weird syncopation to it that those who haven’t grown up with it find it very hard to pick up (unless perhaps you are a professional percussionist). Here is a great example of a brisk 10/8 meter: the well known “Husenigin Sazera Medley” by (yet again) the Kef Time Band. (Richard Hagopian on oud and vocals, Hachig Kazarian on clarinet, et. al.) 

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B9vWNppTGA8

10/8 (as played in this song) is pretty much restricted to Armenian, Turkish, and Syriac music – and in the realm of Armenian music, it’s only used in Western Armenian kef music as played in America, and basically, not in any other genre. (They’ve never heard of a 10/8 in Armenia. There’s no sheet music with this rhythm either, outside of Turkey.) If you don’t have a very good feel for 10/8, for the swing and the nuance of the rhythm, you won’t be able to just get up and play along. And I find if you can’t feel the rhythm of a song, you’re not going to enjoy the song or understand why it appeals to others. Hence the title phrase of this post. But hey, prove me wrong. Just to be clear I’m not trying to insult the rest of the world, I just think that it’s hard to appreciate this style of song if you didn’t grow up with it.

Someone (I can’t remember where I read it) once described the 9/4 zeybek rhythm as “the soul rhythm of Smyrna.” I would call 10/8 the soul rhythm of the Armenian-Americans. Our favorite dance, the “shuffle,” is done in 10/8 rhythm. A lot of our dances are difficult, but doing the shuffle is like riding a bike – once you really have it in your bones, it falls into place like a beautiful I-don’t-know-what. I’ve been to so many Armenian dances I could practically do the shuffle in my sleep. It’s as if an Armenian’s heart beats in 10/8 instead of 4/4. But again, the shuffle is an Armenian-American dance created in America. It is unknown in the old country, or what’s left of the old country, to be precise. But does that make it any less Armenian? It’s as least as Armenian as William Saroyan, if not more. 

All our best and most important songs are in 10/8 rhythm, like “Hars oo Pesa,” (Bride and Groom) a folk tune hailing from Kharpert which has become the pan-Armenian-American wedding song (at least for those who have kef time music at their weddings). Here’s how it goes down in suburban Detroit. The wedding party, pinkies joined, waits outside the doors of the reception hall. The oudist plays an introductory taksim (basically an instrumental solo, but that’s a story for another post) and as the anticipation bubbles up, announces the bride and groom. Then, as the doors are swung open, the beat of the song begins – and the anticipation bubbles over and explodes, and relief sets in that, yes indeed they did get married! And joyfulness with a touch of familiarity, upon hearing that sweet, good old beat of the 10/8 rhythm, fills all the wedding guests. Upon seeing the new bride and groom dance into the hall to that beat, a sweet feeling of nostalgia for all weddings past and hope for all weddings in the future accompanies the joy for the wedding of the present. It’s practically a spiritual experience. 

I don’t have an example of “Hars-oo-Pesa,” but I do have a 1920s example of Husenigin Sazera (here entitled Ouy Janem, this is the Dikranagerdtsi version while the first example was the Kharpertsi variant.) The following will link you to Ouy Janem, sung by Karekin Proodian (with oud and violin accompaniment), an early Armenian immigrant musician best known for his composition of yet another 10/8, “Sheg Mazerov Er” (She Had Blonde Hair), which can be found on itunes on the album Kef Time Detroit. And without further ado, Mr. Proodian:

Ouy Janem - Karekin Proodian (click me)

The way to count it, if you really want to know, is 1-2-3 1-2 1-2 1-2-3 with the accent on each count of “one”. Except do it at double speed because it’s really not 10/8, it’s 10/16 and we just call it 10/8 out of convenience. But note that it is not 5/8 because it doesn’t repeat itself until you’ve done 10 counts.