Monday, February 20, 2012

Raga Manoranjani

 

 

 

 

 

 C Raga Manoranjani Scale on the Piano - Improvisation and Composition

Notes: C, Db, D, F, G, A, and B - Key: C - Origin: Indian - Category: Octatonic Scales
The C Raga Manoranjani uses eight notes per octave. Because of this same reason it is a member of the so called Octatonic -scales that have Eight-note (or Eight-tone). On the piano keyboard, it is made up of one black keys: Db and six white keys: C, D, F, G, A, and B. This combination makes this scale - as well as the C Raga Abheri, C Raga Abhogi, and C Raga Adana - as great choices for composing or improvising Indian music.

If we take a look a the key signature of the C Raga Manoranjani Scale we can find it has one flats and no sharps. Therefore, on sheet music you will find one accidentals on the score. The notes of this scale are: C, Db, D, F, G, A, and B.

How to play the C Raga Manoranjani scale?

  1. 1
    To play the C Raga Manoranjani on your piano, start on the Root note. Play C, the first note of the scale.
  2. 2
    Continue with rest of the notes that shape the scale, play Db, D, F, G, A, and B.
  3. 3
    Return to the home of the C Raga Manoranjani scale. Play again C -the tonic of the scale- to mark its ending.

How to play the scale in descending fashion?

  1. 1
    Begin on the last note. Play the C, the last (and first) note of the scale.
  2. 2
    Go down. Play B, A, G, F, D, and Db.
  3. 3
    Reach the home again. Establish tonality by playing the tonic of the C Raga 
 
 
 
The Piano Encyclopedia -
  http://tinyit.cc/39e78 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Monday, January 30, 2012

Hindustani Classical Music on the Oud


And a rendition of Indian Classical music -Hindustani - on the Oud. The recital was an impromptu one under the trees at Auroville. You can hear the birds joining in at times.


The Oud is played by Vasudev Murthy and the raags are Hemant, Bhimpalas and Shree.

Vasudev Murthy on the Oudh



The Oud



The Oud is one of the most popular instruments in Arabic music. Its name derives from the Arabic for 'a thin strip of wood', and this refers to the strips of wood used to make its rounded body.
 
The neck of the Oud, which is short in comparison to the body, has no frets and this contributes to its unique sound. It also allows playing notes in any intonation, which makes it ideal for performing the Arabic maqam. 

The most common string combination is five pairs of strings tuned in unison and a single bass string, although up to thirteen strings may be found. Strings are generally made of nylon or gut, and are plucked with a plectrum known as a risha (Arabic for feather). Modern strings are made of steel wound over nylon. 

The instrument has a warm timbre, low tessatura, and is often intricately decorated. The oud used in the Arab world is slightly different to that found in Turkey, Armenia and Greece. Different tunings are used and the Turkish-style oud has a brighter tone than its Arab counterpart. The European lute is a descendant of the oud, from which it takes its name (al-oud).






The Origins of the Oud

The Oud has a mythic status,its origins hidden in antiquity, legends stories and myths.


Most accounts trace The Oud’s entrance into Europe through North Africa and into the Iberian peninsula with the Umayyad Caliphate of Al-Andalus in 711 AD. The instrument eventually grew frets and became le-oud, the French definite article, resulting in lute.


It was in the courts of Al-Andalus that the oud became the subject of legends and elevated to mythic status.We remember the paradigmatic player of Al-Andalus as Ziryab or Zyriab, who founded the first music school of Spain and added the fifth course to the instrument.


Mythic genesis stories of The Oud go back to the Bible, where the oud is traced back to Lamech, the sixth grandson of Adam who mourned for his dead son by suspended his body in a tree and the shape of his skeleton became the model for the shape of The Oud.
 
In the archaeological record, an instrument similar to the oud has been found throughout Mespotamian sites and ancient Egypt. It continues today to be one of the most popular instruments of the eastern Mediterranean and middle east. - James Stone Goodman.









     Parts of the Oud

The oud consists of a large pear-shaped body (or soundbox) attached to a short neck. The front (or face) of the oud's body is flat and contains one or more soundholes, whereas the back is bowl-shaped and constructed from around twenty thin strips of wood known as 'ribs'. Strings are attached to a brige on the face of the oud and pass over a nut at the other end of the instrument. Tuning is achieved by turning a series of pegs contained in a pegbox, which is set almost at a right angle to the neck of the oud. Notes are produced by stopping the strings at some point on the front of the neck - this area is also known as the fingerboard. The main parts of the oud are shown in the diagram below:








Styles

The strings of the contemporary O'ud are twisted, or spirally reinforced. They are plucked with a plectrum (risha, 'quill') made of an eagle's feather and held between thumb and index finger; a shell or plastic plectrum may be used instead. The technique calls for suppleness of the wrist as the plectrum strikes the strings in a simple fall, or combines risings and fallings.


There are two schools of performance. The first, or 'Ottoman', bases itself on the ornamentation of sound, produced by delicate glissandos of the fingers and slight vibratos. The touch of the plectrum on the string sets off a vibration which, in turn, gives rise to an effect of resonance, volume and controlled intensity. The plectrum does not interfere with the resulting sound. This produces an intimate style of playing, making the interiorized O'ud a path to meditation. This approach was first promoted in Istanbul by Ali Rifat Cagatay (1867-1935) and Nevres Bey (1873-1937), then by Refik Tal'at Alpman (1894-1947) and Cinucen Tanrikorur (b 1938).





 





The second aesthetic approach is Egyptian. The volume is amplified by firm strokes of the plectrum, which makes the strings resonate; the result is a curiously dulled sound, akin to the nasal effect of Egyptian song. This calls for virtuosity in performance, which is conceived of as an exteriorizing factor. The finest proponents of this school have been Safar 'Ali (1884-1962), Muhammad al-Qassabji (1898-1966) and Farid al-Atrash (1907-75), who, despite his melodramatic style, breathed a new vitality into the instrument. 













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Basic Information about Oud Music - http://www.saedmuhssin.com


Range


Intermediate                          Advanced
Due to to the shape of the oud, fingering the top B and C might be difficult in larger bellied ouds.These ranges are given based on Arabic tuning. Turkish musicians tune their instrument one whole tone higher. Transposition for Turkish musicians is also different.

Characteristics
 The oud is a melodic instrument. Although it is possible to voice some chords harmonically on the oud, the resulting sound is not convincing. The lack of frets, the narrow distance between strings, the tuning and the shape of the neck make it impossible to voice many chord positions harmonically. The oud's sound is delicate and rich, and is relatively a soft instrument. Amplification if often required for oud even in smaller quieter venues which wouldn't require amplification say for acoustic guitar.

Strings and tuning
Ouds have 6 strings (more precisely, 11 strings, but five are unison tuned pairs). The highest pitch string is tuned to middle C  and the others are G3, D3, A2, E2*, C2*.
*Some players tune the last 2 strings differently. Professional musicians usually use either the tuning given above or, F2, C2.
Turkish musicians tune their ouds one tone higher.






- http://www.oud.eclipse.co.uk/history.html      http://wrightstuffmusic.com/2008/12/03/the-oud/                    www.oudcafe.com   http://www.arabinstruments.com

images -  oudmusic.wordpress.com       ketenjian.com

Sunday, January 29, 2012

The Man from Jizan

 
  A song of love and of life





     


I had walked along the coast from Jizan, where I lived in loneliness, surrounded by those who loved me, but to whom I could display no feeling. My heart was heavy, I knew not why, and I sought solitude and time to think of nothing. Not for me the hysterics of human form, of predictable acts and experiences, of empty conversations. I sought release and the beauty of solitude and my own company.


And so I left one night, while my children were lost in their dreams and my wife dreamed of our children sleeping next to her.  The moon was full, and the stars shone down, witness to the silent swoops of majestic owls searching for shattered and discarded pieces of love. But I walked with head bowed, looking at the approaching sand on which my feet were to tread, with no thought in mind except to escape from peace and innocence. I took my Oud with me, for only music could touch my soul and truly understand.

Along the coast of the Red Sea, the waters lapped at my feet, pleaded with me to stay and to return, for my young children had woken up and asked for their father, and their mother answered in a cracked voice that he had gone away and would perhaps return or perhaps not. The waters had heard their sobs and wept for them. But I was deaf and I wished to hear only the silence of the mountains and the contemptuous mocking of the crickets. 

In Jeddah, I chanced upon old friends. They looked away, for the desert winds had carried the tale of my cruel act to their ears  and they had wept for my children. But they gave me dates in silence, and their prayers. I carried on to the north and to Hejaz and soon the chatter of mankind dimmed and I was truly with nature, anonymous, insignificant, free of the bonds of family, believing that such love was merely transient and selfish but that true everlasting love dwelt on the undulations of mountains.

The towering cliffs, the pure rocks, the trees with roots lurching into the sky, the wild grass protecting the small yellow flowers...these are the blessings of Allah, not wealth, not the desires of a brief sixty years.

And when men labour to climb the lonely narrow paths through the hills, they bring inconsequence. I did too and I knew I had no value, but I climbed up and up, watching the majestic eagles that ignored me. The squirrels too looked up but once and went away, ignoring the face of sin. It seemed that the flowers too looked at me and then turned away, finding purity in the blue sky. I looked below and saw the endless desert where I might choose to become sand too. But I sat on a ledge near the trees, accepting that I was human and superior only in my mind.
I sat there silently, for hours, for days, shrinking within, understanding more and more that I could never be part of such wonder. I had nothing to offer. I would be dust. But the rocks and the eagles and the wind would remain.


I lifted the Oud and offered it to the heavens. Then I played gently, only one note and then another. My fingers caressed the strings, asking them to reveal their beautiful secrets. And I played as I had never played before, as the spirits of the mountains and entered me and twisted my fingers as they pleased and brought out that music which had never been heard by human ears and which I could never have played on my own. In the music were the conversations between Eagles and flowers, between dust and breeze, between dew and toiling insects, between the moon and the sun. The eagles above stopped, suspended in air, the cool breeze wrapped itself around me and squirrels and birds sat around me, listening to this music, ignoring me completely.


I too listened, assured of my irrelevance but happy in it.
After many hours, the final notes dripped from my Oud and finally stopped. Silence cloaked the mountains and the only sound was of me breathing.
I placed the Oud with great respect under a tree.  A leaf drifted down on it.
I turned and walked slowly down the mountain. Towards Jizan.

  
Poems in Sand and Other Stories from Sami Al Mutlaq