The Yuval Ron Ensemble's description on the whittier.edu calendar says "The
Yuval Ron Ensemble
includes Arabic, Israeli and Jewish musicians as well as Christian Armenian
artists who unite the sacred
musical traditions of Judaism, Sufism (Islamic mystical tradition) and
the Armenian Church into an
unusual mystical, spiritual and inspiring musical celebration." Confused
yet? Don't be.
Though the description of their music sounds like a cultural chop salad,
the music itself is anything but
chaotic or confusing. One would do better not to read that and just go,
sit and let your ears just soak it
all in.
The Ensemble is made up of seven people, each playing different
instruments, one singing, and also two
dancers who greatly aided the visual effect of the performance. Their
show last Tuesday night, Feb. 19,
acted as a cleansing of the senses.
Now picture a vast dramatically
endless desert. What would the music sound like that goes along with
this picture? Even though you don't know it yet, you're probably hearing
a duduk in your head. An
Armenian woodwind made from the wood of an apricot tree, delicate and
quivering, the duduk sounds
uncannily like a human voice. Yeghish Manukyan, an Armenian himself,
stepped onto the stage playing
his duduk, slowly moving forward to the mesmerizing sound of his instrument.
Mesmerizing would be
a good word to describe the whole show, a trance, if you will, into
another world entirely.
As Manukyan finally reached his seat, another
performer stepped in front of the audience to distract the
eye completely. A thin white cloth shimmers in front of a woman with
her arms raised and crossed in
front of her head. Like wings, the long cloth drape along each arm
is extended far out past her fingertips
connected to sticks she holds in her hands. As the woman centers
the stage and starts spinning ever so
slowly, we start to notice the ornate detailing in her white top
and long heavy skirt as the cloth lifts off
the ground and she starts opening her arms.
Every song of the night
was like this in a way, something sacred, slowly unfurling itself one
step at a
time. Yuval Ron, the leader and oud player of the group, explained
near the beginning of the show that
every show he does is a concert of unity.
What he meant by this was
quickly realized after he gave the crowd an education on the word "amen."
The word, meaning "faith," is Hebrew but used with variation
in Arabic as well, the language of Islam.
And it is also, of course, frequently used by Christians.
Thus, a better
description of the group would be that they "endeavor
to alleviate national, racial, religious
and cultural divides by uniting the music and dance of the opposing
people of the Middle East into a
unique mystical, spiritual and inspiring musical celebration," as
is stated on their website.
This goal was clear throughout the show
as influences from every which way, inspired different pieces.
A few songs were from Andalucia, a portion of Spain that was rich
with Jews, Muslims and Christians in the middle ages. The gypsies
then created
Flamenco out of the sounds of the Andalucian music of the
time. This song felt different than some of the previous trance-setting
more somber pieces. It felt a lot
less middle-eastern and much livelier, looser and very clearly Spanish.
The song was sung in three
languages: Arabic, Hebrew and Spanish, to represent each of the three
religions.
It's hard not to get an overwhelming feeling while watching
this group, that the tension between these
religions, the countless wars that have been fought and lives lost
have been foolish. To combine this
music is to suggest that there is harmony between all three, and
after hearing this group it seems quite
obvious that there is. The positive vibe the Yuval Ron Ensemble gave
off crawled through the audience
and touched people one by one.
By the end of the show everyone was
standing, clapping and singing along to the group who had all one
by one, dropped their instruments and let the sound of united voices
grow stronger and stronger
throughout the theater as they sang and clapped along.