Where the Tanbur Speaks: Passing the Torch of Kurdish Maqams to a New Generation

ERBIL (Kurdistan24) – In the quiet village of Banzalan, nestled within the city of Dalahu in Kermanshah province in Eastern Kurdistan (northwest of Iran), a resonant hum fills the air—the ancient, soulful sound of the tanbur. It is here, in a building known simply as the House of Tanbur, that a sacred cultural ritual is unfolding.

Young children, some as young as six, sit alongside seasoned masters, their hands tracing the same frets, their ears absorbing the same intricate maqams, or musical modes, that have echoed through the Zagros Mountains for centuries.

This is the ninth "Festival of Ancient Tanbur Maqams," a remarkable, self-funded testament to one community's unwavering commitment to preserving its heritage against the odds.

The festival is the vision and life's work of Maestro Ali Akbar Moradi, a world-renowned maqam expert, composer, and tanbur player. It was through his singular efforts that the House of Tanbur was built, a sanctuary for Kurdish music in a region where such spaces are scarce.

Standing amid the focused energy of the gathering, Moradi described the event's profound purpose. "Today and tomorrow, the Festival of Ancient Tanbur Maqams and Kurdish music is being held," he explained.

"In the House of Tanbur, youth and children are competing and learning."

His words capture the dual nature of the festival: it is both a competition to hone skill and a sacred space for the transmission of knowledge, where the torch of an ancient tradition is passed from one generation to the next.

The event, which runs for two days, is meticulously organized to nurture talent at every stage of development. Participants are divided into three age groups—children (6-12), adolescents (12-18), and youth (18-23)—and compete in three distinct categories: maqam-playing, maqam-singing, and improvisation.

The structure allows for both competitive and non-competitive sections, ensuring that the event is as much about participation and learning as it is about winning.

The prestige of the festival is magnified by the presence of some of the most celebrated figures in Kurdish and world music.

This year, the participants were graced by the attendance of the globally acclaimed artist Maestro Kayhan Kalhor and the respected musician and instrumentalist Maestro Mansour Bahram Beygi.

Their role was not merely ceremonial; they were active participants in the educational mission of the House of Tanbur.

Maestro Bahram Beygi conducted an intensive workshop on the Hayran maqam and its various musical styles, while Maestro Kalhor held a deeply personal talk, sharing his own life experiences and artistic journey with the rapt young attendees.

For the young musicians, the opportunity to learn in such an environment is invaluable, a rare gift in a landscape with few formal institutions dedicated to their craft.

Matin Heydari, a young participant in the festival, spoke with a gratitude that was palpable. "Truly, this is one of the best places, because there are no other centers for music here," he said. "But thanks to the efforts of Ali Akbar [Moradi], this place was opened, and we come here."

His sentiment was echoed by another attendee, who noted, "The only center for music [lit: house of instruments] is this House of Tanbur, and it was built through the efforts of Maestro Ali Akbar Moradi."

What makes the festival and the House of Tanbur itself so remarkable is its fierce independence.

This is not a state-sponsored cultural initiative. To date, all eight previous editions of the festival have been held at the personal initiative of Maestro Moradi, sustained by the passion of the community.

The festival receives no government funding, and participation is free for everyone; this stands as a core principle of the event.

This grassroots model has ensured that the festival remains an authentic, community-driven celebration of Kurdish culture, free from outside influence and dedicated solely to the preservation and proliferation of the ancient art of the tanbur.

As the melodies of the maqams filled the village of Banzalan, they carried with them a story of resilience, of mentorship, and of a community's determination to ensure that its most cherished sounds will never fall silent.

But to truly grasp the festival's significance, one must ask a deeper question: what, in this context, is a maqam? The answer reveals a worldview where music, spirituality, and existence are inseparable. It is far more than a musical scale or mode; it is a comprehensive framework for experiencing reality, encoded in sound.

Philosophically, the word maqam itself translates to a "station" or "place," and this is the key.

For the Yarsan, a maqam is not simply a sequence of notes to be played, but a spiritual state of being to be entered. Each ancient melody is a sonic map to a specific level of consciousness, a particular station on a journey toward the divine.

The tanbur, therefore, becomes the instrument used to unlock these sacred, non-physical spaces, and the festival serves as a school for teaching a new generation how to navigate them.

Furthermore, in a culture rooted in oral tradition, these ancient maqams function as an embodied library of knowledge. They are vessels containing the collective memory, theology, ethics, and history of the community.

The melodic contours and rhythms are not mere aesthetic choices; they are the syntax of a sacred language. When a master teaches a child a maqam, they are not just passing on a tune; they are transmitting an entire system of knowing, a worldview where the most profound truths are felt and heard rather than written.

Ultimately, the purpose of this music is not entertainment but transformation. It is a phenomenological tool designed to guide the listener and performer away from the mundane and toward a state of spiritual unity and ecstatic connection.

The sound is a form of active meditation, intended to dissolve the boundary between the self and the sacred.

This is the profound legacy being preserved at the House of Tanbur. The children and youths competing and learning here are not just becoming musicians. They are being initiated as the next guardians of a living spiritual tradition.

They are learning the very language of their ancestors, ensuring that the soul of their culture—encoded in these sacred, ancient strings—continues to speak.