The Nightingale of the Nile, the sound of the Arab world, the opium of the Arabic people: the grand nicknames for the Egyptian singer Oum Kalthoum, inseparably from the silk scarf in her hand and the sunglasses on her head, make her memory to that of an icon. And she was iconic: not only because of her singing, but also because of her political influence.
When you walk into a restaurant or enter a taxi in Egypt, chances are that you will be embraced by the warm voice of Kalthoum. Although she has not been there for fifty years, her music can still be heard worldwide. There are hologram concerts of her given and operas dedicated to her. Also the new music theater performance Oum: A Son’s Quest for his Motherto be seen in the Opera Forward Festival of the National Opera, brings a tribute to the legendary singer.
The theater makers came up with a new story about a mother and son, in which the meaning of Kalthoum’s music is strong. “We tell what she meant for the Arab world,” says director Kenza Koutchoukali during a background interview of De Balie Debetcentrum about the meaning of Kalthoum.
Traditional and modern
Kalthoum was born between 1898 and 1904 in a small village along the banks of the Nile – her exact date of birth was not registered. With her father, who was imam, she recited Koran verses from an early age. She also sang along in his ensemble. As early twenties, she moved to Cairo, where her singing career immediately took off.
Kalthoum started singing religious songs in Koranic Arabic, but from her move to Cairo she switched to non-religious texts in modern Egyptian dialect. Yet the traces of her earlier style continued to hint, for example because she was guided by the UDa traditional Arabic lute. “That mix of a traditional and a modern style was unique,” says Bushra El-Turk, composer of the music theater performance Oum.
With her deep voice and songs about love, loss and desire, Kalthoum managed to move the entire Arab world. The lyrics of her songs often came from renowned Arab poets, poetry and imagery played an important role in articulating emotions. During her hours of performances, the verses were repeated endlessly, which allowed a song to take an hour and a half.
In her most famous song Enta Oumri“You are my life,” Kalthoum took her audience into a heavy love story. She sang the text vigorously: “Whatever I saw before my eyes saw you was a wasted life.” According to Koutchoukali, listeners recognized their own story in her songs. “That could be about love, going home or good food, Kalthoum took everyone on an emotional journey.”
Political freedom
For more than 35 years, Kalthoum gave a performance for national radio every first Thursday evening of the month. During those performances it became quiet on the street, and people were glued to the radio everywhere in the Arab world. On the days after her concerts, newspapers headed the lyrics of her songs like the news of the day.
In Al-Atlal“The ruins,” Kalthoum sings a ruin as a metaphor for a tragic love story: “Do not ask me where love is, she was a monument of illusions and collapsed. Tell me as long as the tears flow, how love became a thing of the past and belongs to stories of grief.”
Composer El-Turk Nam Al-Atlal As a starting point for the performance Oum. “For many listeners arouses Al-Atlal A feeling of melancholy. ” Kalthoum’s music is also often linked to the term Taraban Arabic understanding of ecstasy by music.
Another text fragment out Al-Atlal Is: “Give me my freedom, unleash my hands.” For many, for many people also tells a story about dissatisfaction and injustice. “Kalthoum had a unique, influential position in a world where the voice of a woman was not always obvious,” says director Koutchoukali.
Folk song of Egypt
First Kalthoum sang for King Faroek I, later she joined the political revolution of the country. During the Egyptian revolution in 1952, when the monarchy was knocked over, Kalthoum supported the nationalism of the new President Gamal Abdel Nasser: Panarabism. Kalthoum even developed a special friendship with Nasser. His political speeches often followed directly on her radio performances and Kalthoum gave benefit concerts after the defeats of the Arab world during the six-day war (1967). Her song ‘Walla Zaman Ya Selahy’ (‘Oh, my weapon’, 1956) was even considered in the decades of the flowering period of Panarabism, even as the national anthem of Egypt.
After years of health problems, Oum Kalthoum died in 1975. Her massively attended funeral is one of the largest public meetings in Egypt to this day. Two hours in advance the streets in Cairo were dropped off, The New York Times described how the enormous mourning procession pulled through the city like a river.