Contemplation

I spent the greatest night in Bahrain, so far, last Friday at the Jazz Night event organized by Elham. I had tried to practice playing a few numbers, but unfortunately I’ve not managed to play anything reasonably well enough. I guess I’ve always been too hard on my playing, however, this changed after having attended these jazz sessions.

I’m faced with a great difficulty now. I already find it hard translating my thoughts into words, and to attempt translating music into words is well beyond my ability. Let alone jazz music. Let alone great jazz music. So, I will be selfish and won’t share the eventful night, and instead, I will share my thoughts about how it transformed me.

At the end of it, everybody had already left, and the event host was already cleaning up. I stuck around for a while, along with a young and brilliantly pleasant piano player whom I had the opportunity to be a fan of (even for only one night). He was at the corner of the main hall, lightly stroking the keys. Slowly walking towards him, not wanting to distract him from playing, he noticed me and invited me to play something with him.

Now, the first and only time I’ve touched a piano was a few years back, at university, sitting next to someone I dearly admire. She taught me a few chords. This time was my second. The young pianist slid to the side, inviting me to sit down and play “what I felt sounded right”. I told him that I wouldn’t know what to play. He showed me a secret chord and told me to “have at it” and play whatever keys within the scale.

And that was the best I’ve played on a piano in my life, so far at least.

I woke up the next morning, scatting while I got out of bed, skipping down the stairs in alternating intervals, and finally running a tea spoon on differently sized tea cups while making breakfast. I was humming throughout the day. Today, I’m going to get my own music keyboard. I’m swapping the rock and pop CDs with jazz and blues ones. And, like jazz, I won’t be too hard on myself. Like jazz, I’m going to be colorful. Like jazz, I’m going to be quite unpredictable.

Finally, I would like to thank the host for delivering one of the greatest nights I ever had.

I’ve never been a big fan of Arabic music, not the hideous stuff that gets produced these days anyway. Perhaps the fact that writers, singers, and composers themselves can’t escape their limited scope of lame topics which range from snobbish unreasoned pride and ego to the slumps of sexually provocative outtakes.

And since I fell in love with the English language from an early age, my music taste found its match in western music (mainly within singer/songwriter genre). A few years back I was invited to a Marcel Khalifa concert here in Bahrain, and that was when I found my Arabic fix (apart from the legendary Fairoz and Co). Marcel introduce this divine looking lady, with an angelic voice, and a graceful humane presence. It was Omaymah Alkhalil.

Her performance was absolutely stripped from any form of indecency, unlike other the usual act from the contemporary mainstream bimbo. I knew then, that there was still a chance for Arabic music to have a special place in my heart.

Enjoy the song, go see Marcel and Omaymah in concert if you ever get the chance to, and if you like what you hear, buy their cds.

 

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