Page 235 - Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Coverage Book 2023-24

its youth orchestra (including many girls, a source of particular rage to the Taliban) fled on the last
planes out of Kabul.

But the orchestra still exists, in exile in Lisbon, and is now on a UK tour to remind the world of the
beauties of its homeland’s musical heritage. The tour almost collapsed when the Home Office
refused to grant visas to the players, but fortunately they changed their minds at the last minute.

After the speeches and the cheers, we heard two small-scale performances which reminded us how
much Afghan music owes to India. First, three female sitar-players came onstage with a player of
the tablas (Indian tuned drums), all wearing traditional Afghan costumes of such beauty they
brought tears to the eyes. After their brief unfolding of an Indian raga, four young male musicians
each carrying the Afghan lute or rubab, played another raga with tumultuous rhythmic energy.

After that it was a surprise when the 45-strong orchestra came on, as it looked very like a Western
orchestra, apart from a row of rubabs and sitars in the middle. In terms of the music it plays,
Sarmast takes the wise view that his orchestra should not be “pure” Afghan: it should be open to
the world. So what we heard over following hour was a feast of Afghan music of many kinds,
mingled with other things including a Brahms Hungarian dance and a movement from the Háry
János suite by Hungarian composer Zoltán Kodály, with the sitars making an intriguing substitute
for the twang of the Hungarian cimbalom.

Without any printed programme, the evening could have been bewildering. Fortunately, an Afghan
audience member at my side kindly offered to explain everything. An ecstatic, dancing piece I
guessed was a folk-song was actually a Pakistani-style sacred song, or qawwali. An even livelier
piece, with an impressive Mexican mariachi-style trumpet solo, turned out to be a hit by the
“Afghan Elvis”, Ahmad Zakir, who was murdered by the communist government in 1979.

There were Bollywood-style singalongs, and a peculiarly jolly folk song about a lover who writes a
letter in the blood of his murdered beloved. It skipped along in a tricky seven-beat pattern, but
with a bit of help from the very able Portuguese conductor Tiago Moreira da Silva we all managed
to join in. In fact, it went down so well he brought it back, as the evening’s tumultuous encore. In
all, the evening was a joyous revelation of the beauties of Afghan music – proof that it will not,
indeed, be silenced. IH
Tour continues to Liverpool, Manchester and Birmingham (sama.co.uk). To contribute to the
orchestra’s tour visit crowdfunder.co.uk