“It Calms and Revives the Heart”

If you, like me, are a product of the America education system, you probably number of deeply inculcated probably have a number of deeply inculated notions pretaining to the art of music. First, music culture started somewhere in deepest, darkest Europe, and eventually extended to America (to the west) and to European Russia (to the east). Second, music history started somewhere at the beginning of the baroque era, and ended somewhere shortly after 1900. Beyond these geographical and time parameters, some music undoubtedly exists, but it's either too dissonant and arcane, too culturally alien, or perhaps too primitive to be of any value to our well-schooled western ears. That is to say, for all pracical purposes, it doesn't exist at all.

This is a roundabout way of saying that my auditioning of this release has been both enjoyable and enlightening. Incidentally, if you feel you don’t fit the profile given above—even more to the point, if you happen to be an ethnomusicologist, please don’t besiege the Musical Heritage Society Hate Mail Divison on my behalf, or worse yet, angrily cancel your membership. You'll miss out on a bracing, highly enjoyable release if you do. (Bear in mind that the Schwann catalog isn't exactly overflowing with oud recordings.) If you've never heard this music—well, read on.

The oud, ud, ut, ud, outi, or udi (depending on where it’s found) is a short-necked lutelike Middle Eastern instrument which long predates a ninth-century Iraqi myth of its creation claiming it was invented by Lamak, a direct descendent of Cain. According to this apocryphal tale, Lamak hung his son's remains from a tree; and as the body decomposed down to its skeleton, it suggested the graceful shape of the oud. Archeological evidence suggests that the oud developed during the third century in Iraq from a family of lyrelike instruments. One 14th-century Arab commentator with the resonant name of Abu al-Walid ibn Shihnah links the oud to the development and spread of Manicheism, a religious philosophy combining Zoroastrian, Christian, and Gnostic thought. The prophet Manes believed that music should accompany religious ritual, and Ibn Shihnan credits him with the invention of the instrument.

In any event, the oud, or ud (literal meaning in Arabic: a twig, flexible rod or aromatic stick) eventually became the quintessential musical instrument of the Arab world. It spread westward via Andalusia, and, once in Europe, it gradually became the lute as John Dowland knew it and eventually the guitar. Today the oud in its more traditional forms, enjoys popularity all over the Arabian peninsula in East Africa, Turkey, Armenia, Azerbaijan and Greece. Incidentally, as one goes toward the outer circumference of this geographical circle, the oud itself becomes modified (usually the neck is lengthened) and is used more and more as a folk instrument. Toward the Arab center, the oud is regarded as a "classical instrument with codified and highly refined schools of performance technique.

Unfortunately, you can’t hear the instrument via these notes. You’ll need the recording for that. I can tell you that over the centuries Arab commentors have credited the oud with medicinal powers. To quote one: "The oud invigorates the body. It places the temperament in equilibrium. It is a remedy. It calms and revives the heart."

This release contains Armenian folk Songs and dances (most carrying composer credits) performed on the oud by the American-born artist George Mgrdichian. With more than 65 recordings to his credit. Mr. Mgrdichian strives mightily to bring the exotic sound of the oud to American ears. Over the past 20-odd years he has appeared in Avery Fisher Hall, Carnegie Hall, Alice Tully Hall, Wolf Trap, and the Academy of Music in Philadelphia, both as a solo recitalist and with such diverse performing groups as the Philadelphia Orchestra and the Waverly Consort.

As to the music itself, if you like exotic melody, lying rhythms, and colorful, unexpected harmonics, you will enjoy this release.