Incursion,
Canada:
Two records by the Egyptian composer and musicologist Soliman Gamil were released
by Touch in the 80s. A few years ago, when copies of these records sold out,
Touch decided to collect the best tracks from these two releases, add on some
bonus tracks as a lure to those who had already purchased the previous two LPs,
and release them on one CD titled A Map of Egypt Before the Sands. Released
in 1987, The Egyptian Music (why there's a definite article in this title, I'll
never know) contains 12 pieces of traditional and classical Egyptian music,
steeped as they are in a rich cultural history spanning the centuries. Mostly
these are pieces for small ensembles, exploring the use of traditional Egyptian
instruments (kanoun, sinsimia, rababa) with Sufi melodies and citing various
Egyptian folk traditions. There is also a handful of orchestrated pieces which
for me seem to blend both eastern and western traditions. Although these are
mostly instrumentals, there is one vocal track on the record ("Pretence and
Destiny"), which in its weary chorus of men and women is suggestive of both
prophesy and ritual. It's easy to see that Gamil had composed for the cinema;
many of these pieces move along with a cinematic pace, and listening to these
pieces I can easily imagine the accompanying images of a vast desert, the flow
of the Nile, or a cluster of weary travellers making their marks across the
sand. Many of the pieces are like "scenes", or vignettes that end suddenly,
as if to fit into a particular cinematic time frame. One of my favourites here
is "Sufi Dialogue", a dialogue for lute and kanoun with an incredible performance
on tabla, pulling me in with its deep and resonating bass. Also "Rhythmic Dialogue",
for the allure of its unrelenting rhythm on tabla and doff, and "The New Nubia",
an improvisation for sallamiya, kanoun and trumpet. Gamil may be a string player
at heart (he is a virtuoso on the kanoun), but I find the most compelling instruments
here to be the percussion, since there is a strong percussive element in each
of the three pieces I cited above as being the most memorable for me. The sound
quality of these recordings is a little muffled, which at first (if I remember
correctly, all those years ago) was a little disappointing. But I must admit
that later this very quality lent itself to the overall charm of this music.
At once distant (in time and in space), but so near, this is incidental music
with a universal voice. Gamil does something more than interpret Egyptian musical
traditions and structures; he creates something new out of them, something pleasant
which appeals to both oriental and occidental sensibilities, music with a strange
charm and a gentle, lyrical voice. [Richard di Santo]