Arabic music has long revered masters of the oud, or lute. But Farah Kaddour, a Lebanese artist and music teacher, hopes she can revive interest in a lesser-known string instrument – the buzuq.
The long-necked lute is known for the crisp sound of its metal strings and the resonance from a deep soundbox. Originally played by nomadic communities of the Levant and popularised by urban music of the 20th century, it seldom appears in Arabic pop music today.
Kaddour, who comes from the marginalised north of Lebanon, is one of the few female buzuq players in the world. She has had a prolific year, releasing three albums with three ensembles of which she is part. She was also a winner at the triennial Aga Khan Music Awards in November.
The difficulty is creating contemporary music for the instrument, while staying true to its origins, she says. “The challenge is not to lose the identity or the knowledge of [the buzuq],” she tells The National.
Yet in a classical Arabic music industry struggling to gain new audiences, the buzuq has all but disappeared. Its origins in folk music, mainly played by Bedouin and Roma communities, may explain its diminished reputation. The two “legends” of Lebanese buzuq – Mohammed Matar and Mohammad Abdel Karim – were from those communities, Ms Kaddour adds.
Beirut-born singer Muhi Eddine Baayoun brought the buzuq to classical Arabic music, including it in traditional ensembles known as takht. But it was ultimately popularised by Lebanese composer Ziad Rahbani, known for his politically charged songs with Arabic music ensembles.
Kaddour rejects the suggestion that the instrument is fading from living memory – but acknowledges its presence has been subdued. “It didn’t fade, it has always been there in the shadows,” she says. The instrument is still taught in Arabic music curriculums in Syria, she adds.
A handful of musicians have sought to keep the buzuq alive. Among them is Palestinian composer Tareq Abboushi, a trained classical and jazz pianist who also plays the buzuq, and Palestinian artist Ramzi Aburedwan.
Kaddour’s own approach is highly experimental, while also staying true to its roots. The three albums she developed last year feature a wide range of collaborations with rock and ambient musicians, as well as folk artists.
With the six-member band Sanam blending moody progressive rock, folk and Arabic music she released the album Sametou Sawtan in September, after performing at Bristol’s End of The Road Festival that month. The large nature of the band meant Kaddour had to experiment with a “minimalist” approach to the buzuq.
In June, she and Lebanese rock guitarist Marwan Tohme, from Sanam, put together an experimental album. “We tried to take the buzuq out of the box, by processing its sound, yet preserving its identity,” she says.
She is also a co-founder of the Tilt Trio with Arabic accordion player Samah Boulmona and percussionist Ali Hout. The group takes a more acoustic approach, reimagining traditional folk music with original compositions, and released an album last month. “It was a question of how can we develop our music, sound and instruments acoustically,” she said.
But one of her favourite experiences was recording a track inside the abandoned dome of Oscar Niemeyer’s fairground in Tripoli as part of a compilation known as the Dome Sessions. The crumbling concrete structure, which was considered pioneering at the time of its construction, is hollow, amplifying and echoing even the most delicate of sounds. “I was speaking with the buzuq through the walls of the dome. Playing with the national echoes and reverbs was something else,” she says.
The demand for her music is a sign for Kaddour that her efforts to promote the instrument are gaining ground. “The response in Beirut is quite good. For years [the buzuq] was not really known. In the past 10 years it's become more alive,” Kaddour says.
She began as a percussionist, learning the riq, or tambourine. Growing up in Akkar, opportunities to learn and play music were presented to her against the odds by musician Hayaf Yassine, who established a music school there.
Today Kaddour works with children, hoping she can pass on a passion for the Buzuq to future generations. “The instrument is always appealing to them," she adds.
"It makes them curious because they don’t see it a lot. It’s not on TV. They are curious to practise, to experiment, to explore.”
