|
INTERVIEW WITH OMAR FARUK
TEKBILEK, MUSICIAN
"I often cry when I hear flamenco singing"
Silvia Calado Olivo. Córdoba, July 2002
Photos: Daniel Muñoz
Music is constantly played at the colorful and crowded stands of the main
bazaar in Istanbul, the Turkish capital. Traditional, rai, the international top
40, and, sometimes flamenco. The echoes of Camarón and Paco de Lucía
form a part of the labyrinth, and nobody is surprised when someone asks for the
latest flamenco recordings. Shortly after his sixteenth birthday, Omar Faruk Tekbilek
arrived in the capital, looking to make a living as a professional musician. It
wasn't long before he began to hear sounds that were oddly familiar. Since that
time, "the music of Paco de Lucía is always in my house and in my
car; I've always got tapes." His afición led to a dream: combining
his music, of the Sufi tradition, with flamenco to create an interface for the
different sounds of the Mediterranean. His dream became a reality on his recording
"Alif" (Resistencia, 2001), with the lucid guitar word of the Córdoba
native José Antonio Rodríguez.
Above: Omar Faruk, José Antonio Rodríguez and Bahadir
Sener
Bellow: Omar Faruk
Is there a musical connection between flamenco and Turkish music?
In the East of Turkey, in the mountains, they sing melodies and structures
that are similar; the scale is similar, too (he starts to sing: aaaaeeeeeeeee).
Straight from the heart. The patterns of the string instruments, the scales, are
similar, too. I've been hearing those patterns and ways of playing all my life
in Turkish music.
Had you played with flamenco musicians before you invited José Antonio
Rodríguez to play on "Alif?"
Yes, in New York. I used to work in an international club, in a friend's rehearsal
studio with a couple of different rooms, and there were flamenco dancers and even
belly dancers that used to rehearse there. The people that went there to practice
would come down to see us play, and vice-versa, and the belly dancers and the
flamencos used to get together.
How did you meet José Antonio?
Through Brian Keane, who's a musician and the producer of some of my recordings.
He's pretty well-known in world music circles. We'd already worked together on
quite a few occasions, and he'd put together a flamenco sampler for Windham Hill
with Adam del Monte and a lot of other guitarists. When I heard it, I told him
that I wanted to include a flamenco musician on my new recording. Of course, the
first name that he suggested was Paco de Lucía. I talked to his manager,
but he had some kind of health problem and wasn't playing at the time. Our second
name on the list was José Antonio Rodríguez (whom he renamed
as José Fernando upon introducing him at the Caballerizas Reales in Córdoba),
and that's who we recorded with.
Are you going to get deeper into the relation between flamenco and Turkish
music?
Sure, that's my dream. I'd also like to approach jazz, or any other kind of
soul music. I think that flamenco and the influences of Spanish music are very
good guideposts, so that everyone that listens to our music can find something
close to them. I include influences of very different cultures in my music, so
each person can find some recognizable characteristic and can say, "Here's
some flamenco," or Greek bouzouki, or Turkish melodies... Our mission is
to offer all of this to people and to put it on the stage in a natural way. The
best thing about music is this possibility of communication.
Does the spirit of flamenco fit with the Sufi philosophy that impregnates
your music?
I don't know much flamenco literature, and I don't really know what it's all
about, but, when I listen to flamenco, what I feel is passion (he puts his
hand on his chest). I don't know where it comes from, but I see a very big
door in flamenco. In that sense, it's very similar at first sight. Although I
haven't studied it much, I can tell that they play passionately, but softly, which
is very emotional, never mechanically, and fast but delicately. I often cry when
I hear flamenco singing. I also love it when they dance so passionately. I think
that that's the most important thing. If I am true, then I am. If there's nobody
and nothing else besides yourself, then you're real; that's you. When you feel
something inside you, that's the real thing.
revista@flamenco-world.com
|
