The Songs of Sayyed Darweesh: Soul of a People
Project Background
Nagi summarizes the enduring appeal of Sheikh Sayyed Darweesh: “His songs reflect the period of the independence movement in Egyptian history and truly represent the essence of Egyptian identity…they captured the mood of a nation in transition and appealed to the masses of Egypt as well as the intelligentsia. The songs spoke of their daily lives, concerns, needs, and paranoias. With shocking honesty, he grabbed everyone’s attention.”
Bio
Sheikh Sayyed Darweesh is, without a doubt, one of modern Egypt’s, and perhaps the Arab world’s, most influential composers. His contribution to Egyptian music not only created a bridge from the 19th to the 20th century, but also connected the music of the Near East to that of the West. An early pioneer in the domain of “world music,” Darweesh’s musical output was local but his musical vision was cosmopolitan.
Despite his early death at the age of thirty-one, Sayyed Darweesh left behind a prodigious legacy of thirty musicals, eleven adwar (long song forms with complex melodies and multiple sections), and over 150 songs. Almost all of this music was composed in the last seven years of his life! In addition to his legacy, Sayyed Darweesh’s music exerted an unmistakable and indelible influence on the most important generation of Egyptian composers that followed: Muhammad Abdel-Wahab, Riyad Al-Sunbati, Zakaria Ahmed, and Muhammad Al-Qasabgi, all of whom had a major role in defining Arabic music from the 20th century on.
The music of Darweesh was Egyptian in content and context. It was imbued with a strong sense of newly-found Egyptian nationalism that flourished as the Ottoman yoke was being shed from the Arab world during the First World War. Darweesh was steeped in the tradition of 19th-century Arabic music and, having studied to be muqri, a reader of the Qur’an, he was well-versed in Qur’anic chant. At the same time, he embraced the modern and the “other.” He loved Italian opera and greatly admired Verdi. Yet, ever aware of the rich heritage around him, Darweesh also learned Christian hymns from the Syrian Orthodox church, which he once referred to as “Godly opera.”
Born into a poor family in the Eastern port city of Alexandria, Sayyed Darweesh was a late addition to his family. Some of his three sisters had already married by the time of his birth. At the time of his father’s death, the seven-year- old Darweesh was sent by his mother to study the Qur’an with the local kuttab, or religious teacher. As was the case with so many other musicians, the training in tajwid, the chanting of the Qur’an, was to be the foundation of his musical knowledge. Although tajwid is never considered to be a musical act, it nonetheless adheres to the principles of Arabic music and teaches the most important aspects of Arabic singing: phrasing and breathing, the intricacies of maqam, or Arabic scale system, proper pronunciation and enunciation, and the inner rhythm of the Arabic language. After his training with the local kuttab, Sayyed Darweesh enrolled in the school of a certain “Sami Effendi.” It was here that Darweesh was exposed to the ecstatic singing of anashid, religious songs, and rousing political discussions. The seeds of nationalistic fervor were planted in the young Darweesh at this time. It was also at this time that he decided to “remove the ‘amama and the quftan” (the clothing of the religious man) and to dedicate his life to music.
His first “break” came when he was heard singing in a coffee shop by the brother of a leader of a musical group. Darweesh was hired to join the group on a tour of Syria in 1909. Ultimately, the tour’s financial failure led to its abrupt end. Despite this setback, Darweesh learned a great deal of new music during his travels and was inspired to compose. His earliest musical theater production dates to February 26, 1917. The production in one of Cairo’s casino-theaters was a financial failure, but the Lebanese musicologist Victor Sahab wrote, “The appearance of Sayyed Darweesh on the stage of Cairo [marked] the beginning of 20th-century Arabic music.” The following musical “Fayruz Shah” of 1918 was also a flop, but it would be his last. From that point on, Darweesh would become one of the most in-demand composers of his time, at times causing bidding wars between theaters vying for his services.
Sheikh Sayyed’s legacy is a complex one to fathom. His music was imbued with a nationalistic pride. The idea of “Egyptian music” was central to his work. Furthermore, Darweesh’s music is often described as the “voice of the people.” Indeed, many of his songs reflected and bemoaned the situation of the working class. Sayyed Darweesh composed songs about water carriers, waiters, shoeshine boys, horse carriage drivers, factory workers, lottery ticket vendors, and others. His music also dealt with the problems of the day. One song described the impending end of the water carrier tradition when an English company introduced plumbing into Egypt. He connected with the “people” because he was one of them.
Despite his humble origins, Darweesh was on the cutting edge of Arabic music. He was the first Arab composer to use Western musical techniques such as harmony and counterpoint, both of which were completely foreign to Arabic music. His openness to new musical ideas and instruments was one of Sayyed Darweesh’s greatest achievements. He began using the piano in his music; he called for cellos and other instruments that expanded the traditional Arabic ensemble, the takht, thereby expanding the color palette of the next generation of Arab composers. He often used musical notation and had a grasp of orchestration. He embraced and even identified with European music. When someone commented that his hair resembled Verdi’s, Sayyed Darweesh replied, “I am Egypt’s Verdi!” Shortly before his untimely death, Darweesh had planned on traveling to Italy to study opera. Despite his admiration for the West and its music, and his predilection for sophisticated musical techniques, Darweesh did not rise above the reach of his audience. He gave people what they wanted: lyrics that mattered to them and unforgettable melodies.
It has been argued that Darweesh’s strong melodic sense gave extra potency to the lyrical content. This gave his politically-themed music “teeth.” This fact was not lost on the regime of King Faruq, who banned the reprinting of Darweesh’s records. His music was often critical of the British occupation or the corrupt Egyptian monarchy of the post-Ottoman period. Like many Egyptians who were active in the revolution of 1919, Sheikh Sayyed felt betrayed by the British occupiers and directed his anger directly at the British-appointed King Faruq. Yet Darweesh also called the modern Egyptian to action. In “Ya Bint Al Yom” (Today’s Girl), he tells the women to “wake up”: “you speak several languages and are as smart and talented as your European counterparts. You’ve had enough sleep.” In the very same song, he calls for voting rights for women. In “Salma Ya Salama,” he tells the would-be emigrant to “forget Europe, forget America; Egypt is the place to be.” The lyrics are energized by a sense of pride in Egyptian history and a “can do” optimism that resembles that of early 20th-century U.S.
Grounding Darweesh’s forward-looking musical and political ideas were his deep roots in Arabic music. His contribution to the “classical” Arabic musical repertoire is so vast that many musicians are often surprised to discover a piece thought to be qadim, meaning “old” and implying anonymity, to be one of Darweesh’s. He began setting to music poems, called muwashshahaat, that were written by Arab poets in Andalusian Spain. These songs entered the existing repertoire of muwashshahaat songs and have become veritable “war horses” of the classical music repertoire.
Despite his popularity, Darweesh lived hand-to-mouth most of his life. His brilliance was recognized by his peers in his time. Shortly after Darweesh’s death, a newspaper printed an open letter by Badi’ Kheyri which stated, “[We’ve lost] a genius in the prime of his youth who was the most powerful musician and composer known to the Arab theater in its last renaissance...he was the first to find a connection...between Eastern and Western music.” Today, Darweesh’s legacy is something of an institution in Egypt. In the late 1970’s, Egypt adopted a nationalistic song that Darweesh composed as its national anthem.
Riyad Al-Sunbati (1906-1981) had a personal relationship with Sayyed Darweesh. Darweesh recognized the young Riyad’s talent and encouraged him. Darweesh’s informal mentorship with Riyad left an indelible mark on the young musician. The young Sunbati was mesmerized by Darweesh, and he wished to discover what his life was like. This curiosity led to a sobering realization of the reality of life and art. Upon a visit to Alexandria, the young Riyad accompanied his father to hear Sayyed Darweesh perform in a theater. Because attendance was low, the two sat and waited for an hour after the scheduled opening time. The theater decided to wait until a sufficient number of patrons had filled the hall. Eventually, an audience of three people had to be turned away and refunded their ticket price. Darweesh was devastated and left the theater in a state of deep depression, with Riyad and his father at his side. Riyad witnessed the effect of this failure on Darweesh. Driven to tears, Darweesh drowned his sorrows in wine. The elder Sunbati did what he could to assuage Darweesh. It was at this point that the prescient Sunbati realized that, “For the artist, the Bohemian life is the quick road to his demise.” Despite this heavy realization, Sunbati pursued a career in music and succeeded in making his lasting mark on Arabic music. The inspiration he found in Darweesh’s music fueled his desire to succeed and to overcome the fear of failure.
Muhammad Al-Qasabgi (1892-1966) is most closely linked to Sayyed Darweesh by age. The two were born less than a month apart, Al-Qasabgi being the younger of the two. The two were both influenced by the same social and artistic conditions and, like Darweesh, Al-Qasabgi looked to the West for new musical ideas. Without a doubt, Darweesh’s experiments with fusing Eastern and Western music influenced and encouraged Al-Qasabgi. In some sense, Al-Qasabgi’s influence was almost as powerful as that of Darweesh. Where the two men differ greatly are in their status as “stars.” Darweesh’s canonization and fame overshadowed his music for many years, while Al-Qasabgi’s prolific output of over 360 songs has long overshadowed his image as an important public figure. Many know Al-Qasabgi’s songs but few, it seems, know that he composed them.
Muhammad Abdel-Wahab (1902-1991), remembered as the Arab composer and singer, was a star of both stage and screen, and a self-proclaimed modernist. His musical output is staggering: over 250 songs, 55 instrumental works, and dozens of films. His importance is partially due to the fact that he outlived all his colleagues and rivals by at least ten years. Darweesh’s influence on Abdel-Wahab’s was formidable. Remembering his first encounter with Darweesh’s music, Abdel-Wahab said, “I ran away when I heard Sayyed Darweesh. I wanted to run away from my own skin. I discovered that the artist who has within him the seed of development has the potential to create from the old something new.” In 1921, the young Abdel-Wahab filled in for a sick Darweesh in one of his musical theater productions and also continued his leading role in a production of Darweesh’s after his death in 1923. Contemplating the balance of the modern with the traditional in Darweesh’s music, Abdel-Wahab said, “His compositions are truly modern, but they are close to the heart and rooted: they have a father and a mother.”
-- Kareem Roustom
