General Notes about the Oud

The wars currently raging between Western society and proponents of a radical Islamic fundamentalism, regrettably, have all but obscured the glorious traditions of Arabic art, literature, and music. Of course, the Middle East has been particularly plagued with strife over national identity. But the violent acts of recent history—brought home to American soil—make sympathetic feeling for Arabic culture both harder to find and, ironically, perhaps the only path toward mutual long-term peace.
The medieval Islamic empire not only supplanted Rome throughout the Mediterranean world; it eclipsed it in many areas of human inquiry, including mathematics, science, and decorative art. Islam prided itself on a certain degree of homogeneity and insularity. But at its apogee, the empire stretched outward from the Arabian peninsula to reach Cordova in Spain and the Indus River in the east, the Balkans down to northern Africa. Diversity was inevitable, and it may be noted that Arabic culture was perhaps as influential as influenced upon by those peoples it subsumed.
In art and music, the origins of Arabic practices point to Mesopotamia and Persia. Music, at this early stage, was the province of women almost exclusively; music functioned as domestic entertainment and was aesthetically aligned to emotions of joy, celebration, and light. Male instrumentalists enter the record around the seventh century A.D. Prior to the full flowering of Mohammedan prowess (roughly 750-950), Arabic minstrels adopted Persian styles in deference to their political masters. But gradually—and contemporaneously with the greatest literary remnant of medieval Islam, the fabled 1001 Nights—Arabic music asserted itself and etched its striking profile on the world.
Probably its most important, foundational instrument is the 'oud or 'ūd, whose invention has been ascribed to Lamak (Biblical Lamech). The story of its spontaneous invention, while probably apocryphal, reinforces the instrument’s antiquity. It had existed in much the same shape since about 1500 years before Christ. The 'oud is clearly related to the European lute both etymologically and musically speaking, though these cousins differ markedly in one respect, as we will see later. Entry of the 'oud into European territory likely took place during the Moorish conquest of Spain in the eighth century A.D. Centuries later, crusader knights helped develop a body of “romances” or adventure tales set to music and performed by roaming troubadours, who would have contact with the 'oud as accompanying instrument through its dispersal westward from the Iberian peninsula. Centuries later still, the classical Spanish guitar would emerge to take over the role created by the 'oud; the very word “guitar” derives from the name of a popular tenth-century 'oud called a kaitāra.
Two features which characterize Arabic 'oud music are rhythmic intensity and use of rapid plucking on repeated pitches, not unlike modern mandolin technique. This rapid plucking is made possible by the performer's use of a scalloped plectrum. At the same time, the instrument's pear-shaped body and generally thinner strings (in comparison to a modern guitar, for instance) produce a more intimate sound characterized by a sharp, almost nasal quality in the treble and a full, resonant bass. As you might expect, the closest relatives of traditional 'oud repertoire within the classical repertoire come from Spain, whose guitar literature from 1700 to 1950 is without equal.
As important as the 'oud is for defining the sound of classical Arabic music, pitch structure is equally distinctive. Being only roughly analogous to Western modes or keys, Arabic maqāmāt have evolved over a thousand years of use. Early examples sound like, and probably derived from, the melodic modes mentioned in ancient Greek texts, though later practice favored greater use of microtonal patterns. (Microtones are the subtle pitch inflections that fall between adjacent notes on the modern piano, and they are not a conventional part of Western music.) These distinctive micro fluctuations, which mimic the emotional rise and fall of the human voice, are truly possible only on an unfretted instrument such as the 'oud or violin. The absence of frets, which distinguishes an 'oud from a lute, allows a performer to shade infinitesimally and continuously, ornamenting with utmost subtlety around a few anchoring tones in each particular maqām. This powerful combination—rapid plucking in the right hand plus microtonal pitch changes in the left—help explain the “exotic” allure that has captivated both native listeners and Western composers (demonstrated by tomorrow’s program “Reflecting the Middle East”).
Finally, one can mention in passing the underappreciated state of medieval Arabic music theory. Behind all the ornate and luxuriant sounds stand carefully reasoned and mathematically rigorous theories dealing with harmony, melody, and rhythm. Whereas no music theory texts by Christian authors exist from between the sixth and ninth centuries, that was precisely the Golden Age of Arabic music treatises. And at a time when Christian writers had access to mere snippets of ancient sources, Muslim authors could read from complete translations of Plato, Aristotle, Aristoxenus, and Euclid, among others. If modern European culture was formed in the Renaissance and the Renaissance was built upon a rediscovery of ancient Greece and Rome, let us give credit where it is due—to the Arab philosophers and scientists who preserved these treasures. Would that our divided societies today could embrace a similar sense of shared heritage and purpose.

(c) Jason Stell