Home Is Where The Harmony Is

If you’ve left home and can’t move back – where is home? What if you can return –  but your home, neighborhood, your entire city…was destroyed…then, where is home? What if your home  doesn’t resemble the one your parents remember…the language most people speak and the food they eat have changed – are you still home?

On this episode of North Gate Radio, our reporters bring you the stories of musicians who have found the harmony of home – amidst so much change.

 

 

Full Transcript:

Shereen Marisol Meraji: You’re listening to NorthGate Radio – a podcast and radio show produced out of North Gate Hall at UC Berkeley… with work from the students at the Graduate School of Journalism.  

I’m your host and head of the audio program, Shereen Marisol Meraji. 

If you’ve left home and can’t move back – where is home? What if you can return –  but your home, neighborhood, your entire city…was destroyed…then, where is home? What if your home  doesn’t resemble the one your parents remember…the language most people speak, the food they eat…have changed – are you still home?

(setaar music by Amir Nojan fades)

Shereen Merisol Meraji: On this episode of North Gate Radio, our reporters bring you the stories of musicians who have found the harmony of home – amidst so much change.  

 We know that Silicon Valley is home to many of the world’s tech giants. But, for members of the Iranian diaspora living here in the bay Area – it’s also home to Amir Nojan. 

 He’s a world-renowned setar player whose small apartment in San Jose doubles as a museum of classical Iranian music and culture.

 Reporter Negar Ajayebi has our story…

[audience getting settled]

Negar Ajayebi: Central Stage in Richmond, California, is a small, intimate venue tucked into a sprawling office park. You wouldn’t know it from the outside – but it’s an unofficial performance center for Iranian artists from around the world. 

[tail end of your introduction and clapping]

 Negar Ajayebi: This evening, there are about 60 or so people in the audience and Amir Nojan is sitting cross-legged on a stage that’s covered with a richly woven Iranian carpet. He has a setaar, an ancient Iranian instrument, on his lap.

[Setar music] 

Negar Ajayebi: With its four delicate metal strings, the setar produces a sound that can transport you to a serene place with just a few gentle plucks.

[Setar music]

Negar Ajayebi: The stage lights —green, blue, red, and orange— cast colorful shadows, setting a magical scene.  Nojan is accompanied by a tonbak player. Tonbak is a traditional Iranian goblet drum. It’s typically made of wood or clay, with a wide, open mouth and a narrow base. The musicians are improvising … crafting each note on the spot. For the mostly Iranian audience, it’s a vibrant echo of home.Watching them play, brought me back to the days when I used to play the kamancheh—a bowed Iranian instrument that sounds – to me – like a weeping violin. I remember how I kept practicing, even after moving here to the United States. But, after playing on my own for two years – I stopped. I needed an instructor to help keep me motivated – and I didn’t know of one. 

Amir Nojan, also left his home in Iran. He was from Shiraz – a city known for its arts and culture, mild weather, and the smell of flowers wafting through the air. Amir left the home that he loved to follow love to San Jose, California. And, not long after, he started a music academy- the Shiraz Academy. I wanted to kindle a flame for Iranian culture here in the diaspora—to build a community of people passionate about Iranian music and culture, to bring people together and create meaningful artistic events.

 Negar Ajayebi:  His friends in the Bay Area weren’t confident about Amir’s plan. They felt sustaining – a music academy in a place as expensive as the Bay Area  would be nearly impossible. Especially an academy dedicated to something as niche as Persian music.  

Amir Nojan: ‌Yet, I believed in it—and I made it happen. My ex-wife played a big role in helping establish it. We put in a lot of hard work, and in the end, it turned out to be something truly worthwhile.

[Akbar Moradi & Pejman Hadadi performing at Shiraz Academy in 2019]

Negar Ajayebi: Shiraz Academy was a multi-disciplinary space for those interested in Iranian music and culture. They hosted professional movie nights, screenwriting workshops, photography workshops, seminars, speeches … and of course… music classes and concerts

[Akbar Moradi & Pejman Hadadi performing at Shiraz Academy in 2019 fades down]

Like the one we’re listening to now of Ali Akbar Moradi & Pejman Hadadi, masters of Persian classical music … performing at Shiraz Academy in 2019.  Many of the services Shiraz Academy offered were free. They even had Kemancheh classes! The instrument that I play. But – by the time I was looking for lessons – Shiraz Academy had closed its doors. After the COVID-19 pandemic hit, Nojan was only able to keep it open for 7 more months. 

 Amir Nojan: Closing it after nearly ten years of pouring my heart into it was incredibly hard for me. But I had to cover the rent even when it sat empty. I was doing everything I could for my culture, yet after it closed, I realized perhaps the community didn’t share the same passion for preserving it as I did. No one reached out to say they were sorry or asked if they could help keep it going.

[A not happy piece of music played by himself with setar fade out completely.]

Negar Ajayebi: I visited Amir Nojan at his apartment recently…[Amir saying hello welcome…] – There are instruments everywhere – on the walls, on the ground. 

 Amir Nojan: I’ve set up an aquarium that reflects my roots in Iran

 Negar Ajayebi: well…It’s not exactly an aquarium; his apartment actually resembles a museum. Amir is a deeply obsessive character who, once he sets his mind on something, follows it relentlessly.

 Amir Nojan: (Farsi) Here’s my photographs 

Negar Ajayebi: He’s showing me original letters and photographs that he has displayed throughout his home. They document the history of Iranian traditional music. He grabs a setar off the wall and plays.

 [Nojan playing setar]

Negar Ajayebi: I Notice this setaar looks different than the ones I’ve seen. Instead of the typical arc on the back, its back was flat … Nojan says it’s called the “under Abba setar” … the setar used at a time when music was banned by religious leaders .. in Arabic it’s called “Haram” .

Amir Nojan: When music was Haram in Iran more than a hundred years ago, the artists could hide it under their abas or their robes because it didn’t have the arc and it wouldn’t show a bump under their clothes. This way they could protect themselves from being in trouble. 

[music fades out]

Negar Ajayebi: Amir knows that musicians have always had to adapt to life’s challenges and obstacles. And, that is what he has continued to do, himself. ‘

Like we heard earlier – he’s still performing…And, he’s still teaching. 

 [Sound of Amir and Adin in class at the apartment] 

Negar Ajayebi: On a recent Wednesday night, Adin Tamhaidi came to Nojan’s apartment for a setar lesson. He’s 33-years old and an earthquake engineer with a passion for Iranian classical music.

Adin Tamhaidi: Whenever I was hearing the sound of setar, I was feeling some exciting feeling inside of myself.  

Negar Ajayebi: Tamhaidi says he was busy with school and didn’t have time to learn the setar. But after he graduated…

Adin Tamhaidi: Suddenly I got familiar with Mr. Amir Nojan on Instagram and so I felt now is the time to give it a shot and try my chance. 

[more of Amir Nojan’s music session]

Negar Ajayebi: Though the doors of his beloved Shiraz Academy have closed, Amir Nojan’s 800-square-foot apartment remains an open sanctuary for lovers of Iranian culture.

Amir Nojan: People have different expectations, demands, and wishes in life. If my dream were to own a big house or a couple of brand-new cars and so on, I might have considered pursuing a different job.  However, as Hafez says: “The happy hermit is the sole winner of this hopeless affair. And, by the grace of God, I shall want no more than I can spare.” 

[Music of Mohammadreza Shajarian singing the poem Nojan said]

Negar Ajayebi: Amir told me that all he ever wanted to be was a musician…and although it may seem like he’s lost so much – he says – he has everything he needs.

 [Music of Mohammadreza Shajarian singing the poem Nojan said]  

In San Jose, I’m Negar Ajayebi.

(singing in Farsi, fades under)

Shereen Marisol Meraji: The incessant buzz of drones punctuated by missile strikes and screams of terror became the soundscape of Gaza… and later, Lebanon. But a collective of musicians who trace their origins to the Middle East want to remind their audiences of what home actually sounds like. Reporter, Hussain Khan introduces us to the band known as Al Akhbar.

 [Audience chatter]

 Hussain Khan: I’m at Light Bulb Cafe in San Diego. It’s tiny and intimate, with dim lighting. Retro Arab movie posters are on pillars, and old school Middle Eastern records are on the coffee tables. It’s packed inside, and the crowd is sometimes chatty, sometimes quiet. The atmosphere is tense, since it’s only a few days before the first anniversary of the Israel-Hamas war. And the music reflects the mood…But then, the heaviness erupts into a different, unexpected emotion: JOY

 [Khosara music]

 Hussain Khan: What you’re hearing is Khosara Khosara, a famous Egyptian song…[PAUSE] but here with a jazzy twist. And for people in the audience, like Sarab, from Syria, it’s actually what she needs. 

 Sarab: it feels home away from home…and we have heavy, heavy hearts

 Hussain Khan: The Israel-Hamas war triggers memories for her, of the Syrian civil war in 2011.

Sarab: And we have that… I don’t want to call it negative energy, but it’s an energy that’s not so good. It needs to let out. It needs to come out. And I think when I listen to Arabic music and be in this community, it gives me the chance to actually let it out in a positive way

Hussain Khan: By taking Arabic music and then putting it into conversation with Western jazz, the band is preserving their culture, and reinventing it. 

[Music fade out]]

Hussain Khan: Tamir, the group’s keyboardist, found his way into music as a teenager through hip hop. He was born and raised in Jerusalem. 

 Tamir: All the hip hop that was coming out of Palestine was like a form of protest. It got to the point where we were like, all right guys, like can we listen to some hip hop that’s not about occupation? But it’s, it’s hard ‘cause that’s what you live, breathe, eat, drink. Every single day. 

 Hussain Khan: Tamir was captivated by all of the jazz samples in rap music. And, that’s how his love for hip-hop turned into an obsession with jazz. When he moved to San Diego for school, he met Naji, the only other Arab kid at their community college, where they were both studying jazz.

[Naji drum solo]

For Naji, his journey with music started at birth. When he was a toddler, his mom found the kitchen cabinets empty one day and…

Naji: …she came outside and she found me just banging on a bunch of pots and I had them like set up in a tuned way.

 Hussain Khan: And he’s been a drummer since. Naji’s family is from Syria, and he remembers visiting Aleppo every summer as a kid. But things changed after the 2011 Civil War,

Naji: So not being able to go there just like every other Syrian… definitely developed, like, uh, identity crisis.

Hussain Khan: In college, Naji loved learning about musical traditions across the world. But this curiosity about other cultures also made that identity crisis and longing for Syria feel even heavier. 

Kaji: I need to dig deeper within myself and focus on, like, my diaspora and my heritage.

 Hussain Khan:He threw himself into research during the pandemic. That’s when he found a book called Inside Arabic Music. And when he read it, Naji realized that Arab music and jazz actually have a lot in common:

[Moanin by Art Blakey comes in]

Naji: Revolution music is a good way to describe Black American music. Resistance music is a great way to describe Middle Eastern music.

Hussain Khan: Tamir was also feeling homesick after moving to America. So when Naji showed the book to him one day, he saw the connection immediately.

Tamir: Both have very improvisational feel and you have the maqams in Arabic music that express every emotion. And in Western jazz music, you have the modes, which are also expressing different emotions.

Hussain Khan: And then a lightbulb went off. What if they took the music they were learning–jazz–and infuse it with music from their own culture?

Tamir: I always remember that as being like the day that like, Now it’s possible for us to do this.

Hussain Khan: So now they have an idea to bridge their worlds together…but they don’t have a band, or a venue. Until one day, Tamir went to see a local Iraqi musician perform, and met the event organizer, Layaan. He told her about his idea to form a group playing Arab Jazz…and she loved it. They agreed to meet up and figure out how to make it happen. And, the first thing Tamir did was call Naji.

 Tamir: Yo, are you down? Like we found the gig, bro. Like, this is what we’ve been looking for. 

 Naji: I was like, ‘Oh my God, alhamdulilah’. This is exactly what I’ve been wanting. Let’s do it. 

Hussain Khan: The two of them enlisted friends they met through college and jazz gigs, including Riva, a saxophone player. And Hank, a bassist. They start gigging and performing. But there’s a problem: none of them play Arab instruments or know Arabic music theory.  

Until Salem comes along…

[Balady comes in and fades under]]

Hussain Khan: Salem was born in the US to Lebanese parents. Like Naji, his folks would take him to their home country every summer. He remembers loving Arabic music at a young age…

Salem: So I always had an ear for it. And when I went to Lebanon, I feel like the spark I was like seven or eight and my grandparents took me to this festival. And there was like the first time I saw a live band playing Arabic music and I was like obsessed with it and I wanted to learn so bad.

Hussain Khan: He started playing Arab instruments ever since, like the oud, which is a lute. Or the nye, a reed flute. Salem’s parents are proud of their roots. But they also wanted him to fit in, especially his mom–she wanted him to Americanize, or in Arabic:

 Salem: Tat-Amrak. They just take the word American and turn it into a verb. Like, you became Americanized.  She wanted me to– A lot of kids got in trouble because they were too much you Amreeki, you know? 

Hussain Khan: So playing Arabic music became teenage defiance, in a way. He threw himself into oud practice when he wasn’t studying for law school. And while he was still in school – he ran into Layaan, they exchanged social media handles…and he ended up at one of Tamir and Naji’s rehearsals.  

 Salem: When I met Najee, I just, I grabbed him. I was like, look, I was like, I’ll break your legs if you don’t let me into this group. 

 [Tamara fades under]

Hussain Khan: With the group – he found a way to perform music he’s been studying for years, and friends straddling the same worlds. And so along with Tamir, Naji, Hank, and Riva they formed into Al Akhbar…which means the news.

[Tamara fades up and then out]

Hussain Khan: These days, Salem’s relationship to music is sometimes strained. And that’s because the Israel-Hamas war has spread to Lebanon.

Salem: strikes are getting closer to my relatives and you know, they, I’m going to play a party now and they’re like worried about tomorrow, you know? So you have sometimes that sense of guilt. 

[Four count plays under]

Hussain Khan: Tamir hasn’t gone back to Jerusalem in almost a year. 

Tamir: I want to, like, see my grandma and see my cousins and everyone and   it just, like, breaks my heart because it just feels like there’s less chances of us returning, or being able to be together.

Hussain Khan: Naji also knows this pain: stressed parents, phone calls back home, being glued to the news. He hasn’t been back to Syria since he was 10. Because of these emotions–emotions their audiences feel too– they wonder if it’s even appropriate to do these concerts. Here’s Salem.

 Salem: We do have those discussions every time, literally every time.  Um, it’s sometimes even hard as a performer to even have the gusto to want to do it.

 Hussain Khan: But Tamir says Al Akhbar’s music is a form of resistance.

 Tamir: when your culture is being, you know, stolen and, like,  Like thrown away and like disregarded. You got to like be louder than ever. One of the ways you can protest is through music and through keeping the culture alive. 

Hussain Khan: And in Salem’s experience, the encouragement to play comes from people who are affected the most by the war:

Salem: my relatives back home personally have reached out to me on my stories and said, good for you. Like don’t stop, you know if we were there we’d be there too. Not only is war like an attack on infrastructure or on humans, but it’s also a psychological thing. And like, as long as war is happening, you’re not happy, like you shouldn’t be happy and they don’t want you to be happy. So being joyful and having a good time is almost like a rebellion in itself.

 [Crowd chatteringI]

Hussain Khan: At the concert, I saw and heard first hand how even and especially during grief, Al Akhbar’s music creates a pocket of welcome and safety. It reminds people of a world before all these wars:

 Blind: the moment the Oud starts playing, it kind of makes me a bit tearful.  It reminds me a lot of memories from, you know, growing up in Syria, family playing Oud, you know…

 Salar:  It’s very similar to the music, uh, of my country, Iran. And so it was like a, like a warm fuzzy hug. (fading out) Like a, a little remembrance of home.

Sarab: And sharing the culture, sharing the music, sharing the language, uh, brings a little bit of taste of home to where I am right now.   

Hussain Khan: But this music isn’t just about the past.

[Akhbar playing fades up]

Hussain Khan: By combining music from multiple worlds, Al Akhbar is creating something new. Something that reminds people that there’s a future after the war, too. And they’re building a community around it. 

 Sarab: And that is just a wonderful feeling.

Hussain Khan: I’m Hussain Khan, North Gate Radio. 

Shereen Merisol Meraji: Compton, California is known for being the heart of West Coast rap

[Fade in “Nuthin’ but a “G” Thang” by Dr. Dre following lyrics in the clear]

[“Ready to make an entrance so back on up, cuz you know we about to rip **** up””]

Shereen Merisol Meraji:from Dr. Dre…

[“King Kunta” by Kendrick Lamar] 

[ “Everybody’s screamin’ Compton should probably run for mayor when I’m done to be honest”] 

Shereen Merisol Meraji:…to Kendrick Lamar. 

 [“And I put that on my mama and my baby boo too”]

Shereen Merisol Meraji: But, Compton has changed– a lot. 

[“Que bonita morenita, tan hermosa…” ]

Shereen Merisol Meraji:You’re listening to the newest act from Compton who was just signed to Death Row Records, and he goes by El Compa Negro.

Reporter, Aisha Wallace-Palomares takes us on a trip to meet him – in Compton, of course.

[ “cruze de mojado, papeles no arreglado, sigo siendo un illegal…”]

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: There’s about 50 people gathered in the parking lot in front of the Compton Art and History Museum – its september so summer in Southern California is in full swing –  and i’m definitely breaking a sweat here amongst this intergenerational and inter-racial crowd   

[“en mi mexico querido, del que yo nunca me olvido…”]

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: And we’re all here for the opening reception of an exhibition called “corridos from the hood” 

[ “Afro-americano nino de las calles para el contrabando tienes que llamrle a los Mexicanos misc.”]

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: El Compa Negro is radiant in his black tejana and sparkly black jacket as he prefroms Yo Soy Compton.

 [“Yo Soy Compton Performance “afroamericano niño de la calles..para contrabando.. mexicanos”]

Aisha Wallace-Palomares:  the folks sitting down, get up, and put their botas to work. People move chairs to create more space to dance.

[“Yo Soy Compton Performance “Es nuestro lugar, es mi casa y es mi hogar”]

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: The crowd loves him… Marco bravo is one of the main exhibitioners at the event. He had never heard of El Compa Negro until now…

Marco: Woah, this man’s spanish is like to the T bro. It’s even better than ours. To hear him sing like in person live like amazing yo. This man is incredible. He’s Super talented and he’s from Compton. 

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: But people have not always reacted this way. El Compa Negro who’s real name is Rhyan Lavelle Lowery – says 15 years ago…the reception from Mexican-Americans to his music…was not so welcoming.  

El Compa: I would receive death threats. I would receive, Some very nasty things from people. Just because I was black and I was singing Mexican music. They would tell me to rap.

Aisha WallacePalomares: El Compa Negro is African-American. He told me he tried to sing at Mexican venues – they wouldn’t let him…

 

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: Why not sign with like a Mexican regional label?   

El Compa: Cause I’m black. 

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: Okay, and? 

El Compa: no querian firmar a un negrito.

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: There is a lot of anti blackness amongst Latinos–  And – discrimination based on skin color is common in Mexican communities on both sides of the border..

El Compa: It just opened up my eyes, you know, as well. That like, racism does exist still. But, um, it also showed me how misinformed people are. And how undereducated that they are of their own culture 

 

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: 500 years ago enslaved Africans were forced onto Mexico’s shores. And, Spanish colonizers created a racial caste system to control the now White, Black, indigenous and multi-racial residents of Mexico. The lighter you were – the higher up you could go on the social ladder. And – that persists to this day.

El Compa: A lot of the culture that Mexico or Mexicans per se love. It’s African derived. Like the mariachi music has African elements.

[Fade in Polyrhythm Beat] 

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: It’s true, African polyrhythms, multiple rhythms happening at the same time, 

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: Like the one you’re hearing right now are present in lots of mariachi songs. And, El Compa says you can taste our african heritage in many of our most loved and recognized platillos.

El Compa: The way that they make barbacoa on the ground, Las hojas de plátano. That’s an African tradition from the slaves.

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: And important figures all throughout history have been afro descendants  

El Compa: Vicente Guerrero.Black man, president of Mexico.

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: As we’ve established, El Compa is also Black. And, he grew up in a historically Black city that has been going through major demographic changes.

El Compa: I got into music through church. You know, I’d sing gospel. I remember a couple.

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: Did you have a favorite one? 

El Compa: Yeah, I won’t complain.

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: I won’t complain? 

El Compa: I kind of want to sing it now. 

El Compa (singing): “I’ve had some good days, I’ve had some hills to climb. I’ve had some weary days and some lonely nights. When I, When I look around. And I think things over all of my good days, they outweigh my bad, may bad days and i, I  wont complain…”

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: Not only did he get music lessons at church, he got Spanish lessons there, too.  

El Compa: And I was the only one like out of my brothers and sisters, that was like very interested in it. 

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: He got lots of opportunities to practice Spanish in his neighborhood… 

El Compa: Juan Interiano was my best friend. I used to hang out with my friend Fernando. I also had my, um, my black friends too Nene, Nique-Nique, Lil Ray.

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: And…while we’re on the subject of names… and nicknames, El Compa Negro…the direct translation…

El Compa: The black friend the black homie

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: I can imagine that someone they might be like well why do they have to differentiate you, you know? 

El Compa: Well that would just be their ignorance to the Mexican language because like they’re not really separating me they are just describing me. In Spanish when your describing something, you describe it, And it becomes a part of the name. 

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: In 1996, when El Compa was born in Compton the hispanic or latino population was around 34% now Compton’s Hispanic or Latino population is 71%.

Bone: Everybody thinks Compton, but actually more Latinos.

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: Cle Shaheed Sloan, A.K.A Bone is El Compa Negro’s manager, but he’s also a documentary filmmaker currently producing… 

Bone: Compton’s Finest 

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: He met El Compa while looking for Compton creatives to interview for his documentary.

Bone: Most artists out of Compton are rapping. I met this kid, this millennial, this black African American from Compton, and he was singing Corridos. And I was going, W. T. F. Like what? Like what is this? 

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: El Compa’s family left Compton when he was a teen – and moved an hour south to Perris, California, where Mexican culture continued to influence him.

El Compa: There’s a lot of Mexicans. And, es de rancho, es de campo. They would be partying, you know the jaripeos, chariadas, like bailes, horses dancing, and a banda. Bom bom pom  dan dan daararan.

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: El Compa adds that he didn’t start performing corridos now that they’re trendy…

El Compa: I embraced the culture that I was going out of my way to learn Spanish. And I was learning these songs. That was, you know. Very meaningful in their culture, but being overlooked by, you know, the world.

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: And – he’s been overlooked too –and is just now being recognized. It’s hard to make ends meet in an industry that is only beginning to accept you. He works evening shifts at Amazon, and flips burgers at a club late into the night on the weekends. He’s a single dad and lost his mom 2 years ago.

[unreleased music by El Compa plays]

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: But, El Compa told me, all of the hardship and pain is leading him somewhere good.

[“Que bonita morenita”]

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: A solo album…

El Compa: I have an album done, I’m just mixing and mastering it. I know you guys would love it

[ “Las ganas de decirte que me gustas y que tengo tiempo atrás de ti. aprovechando el momento.”]

Aisha Wallace-Palomares: Reporting from Compton, for Northgate radio I’m Aisha Wallace-Palomares

[music fades out slowly]

Shereen Merisol Meraji: Thanks for listening to this episode of North Gate Radio, a podcast and radio show produced at North Gate Hall with work from the students at the Graduate School of Journalism. 

I’m your host and head of the audio program, Shereen Marisol Meraji.

Peace.