Between Dastgah and Makam: Rivalries in Sound

Episode Narrative

Between Dastgah and Makam: Rivalries in Sound

In the heart of the 16th century, a vast empire flourished, stretching from Eastern Europe to the Persian Gulf — the Ottoman Empire. It was a time when culture resonated from every corner of its domains. Music held a profound significance, functioning as both art and diplomacy. At the center of this musical landscape was the makam system, a modal framework that structured melody, weaving intricate auditory tapestries that defined instrumental and vocal performances alike. By the late 1700s, the complexity of the makam system had given rise to hundreds of distinct makams, each with its nuances and emotional weight, creating a vibrant and dynamic musical milieu.

As the Ottomans extended their reach, they also built a reputation through their military bands, known as the mehterân. By the late 1500s, these bands not only echoed the rhythmic pulse of battle but struck a chord deep within the hearts of European armies. Composed of a striking blend of percussion instruments like the kös, davul, and zil, alongside wind instruments such as the zurna and brass sections, the mehterân had a sound designed to astound. It was a sound that both intimidated and fascinated — echoing through the valleys and standing resolute against the backdrop of clashing steel. This auditory phenomenon was more than mere entertainment; it became a tool of power, an emblem of military prowess that would send tremors through the very soul of Europe.

The perception of the Ottomans, however, was complex and laden with anxiety. In 1565, during the visit of French King Charles IX to Bayonne, the Turks were portrayed in elaborate pageants and tournaments, depicted as exotic "Others." This portrayal reflected the trepidations and fascinations of European nations grappling with the burgeoning influence of the Ottoman Empire, both militarily and culturally. The Ottomans were viewed through a dual lens — one of fear and intrigue. Their rich musical traditions were a part of this intrigue, presenting a culture that was as formidable as it was foreign.

As the empire expanded, energetic exchanges of musical ideas swept through its vast territories, particularly between the Ottoman and Safavid empires. Here, the ashugh bards, poet-musicians, traveled back and forth, crafting a unique fusion of dastgah, the Persian modal system, and the Ottoman makam. These exchanges represented not just artistic collaborations, but also a fluid dialogue that transcended borders and resonated with rich local traditions. What emerged was a mosaic of sounds that adapted to differing tastes and political contexts, shining light on the tapestry of shared humanity.

In the 17th and 18th centuries, another pivotal space emerged for music — the coffee house, known as Amane. These establishments grew into veritable hubs for musical subcultures, setting the stage for creative expression among diverse audiences and social classes. Musicians from various backgrounds blended folk and classical styles, creating a rich intermingling of sounds and traditions. In the dimly lit corners of these coffee houses, a dialogue was forged through melody and rhythm, fostering community and connection that brought people together against the backdrop of a fractured world.

As the empire progressed into the late 17th century, the boundaries of music continued to stretch. Ottoman court musicians began to embrace and incorporate elements from Central Asian and Balkan traditions. Through this, the canvas of Ottoman music grew, reflecting both the empire’s vast geographic sweep and its burgeoning cosmopolitan tastes. By the 1700s, architecture and music shared a conceptual bond; builders and musicians alike understood the harmonious relationships between geometry and sound. Architectural tools often resembled musical instruments, designed to conjure “harmonious” effects that echoed the richness of the environment around them.

The influence of Ottoman music did not stop at its borders. European composers, intrigued by the alluring timbres and rhythms of the mehterân, began to imitate the so-called "Turkish" style in their orchestral works. This trend became particularly prominent in the compositions of greats like Mozart and Haydn at the end of the 18th century. The soundwaves that once blurred the boundaries of cultures now rippled across oceans, making their way into the very heart of European classical music.

As the 1600s unfolded, Ottoman musicians showcased an impressive array of stringed instruments, including the tanbur, the ud, and the kemençe. They skillfully accompanied their performances with wind instruments such as the ney and zurna, while the def and darbuka provided rhythmic support. Each note played in a coffee house or at a private gathering carried with it a history, invoking the legacy of a diversity that defined the empire. Musical manuscripts from the 16th and 17th centuries reveal meticulous notations detailing both makam and usul. Some pieces contained specific instructions for tempo and ornamentation, mirroring the disciplined artistry that lay behind each performance.

Within the grand Ottoman court, a hierarchy of musicians flourished, with the chief musician, or hekimbaşı, playing a pivotal role in overseeing performances and training. This organization extended to specialized ensembles meant for varied occasions, blending sacred and secular sounds, as musicians embodied the diversity of cultural backgrounds from which they came — Greeks, Armenians, Jews, and Turks, each contributing to the vibrant tapestry of sound.

Throughout the 1700s, a spirit of experimentation emerged within Ottoman music, as musicians began to explore polyphony. Yet, even in the face of this evolution, the predominant tradition remained monophonic, with a single melodic line delicately supported by rhythmic accompaniment. In public spaces like mosques, coffee houses, and bustling marketplaces, musicians performed for crowds, representing the rich social diversity of musical life.

As the Ottoman Empire expanded into the Balkans and the Caucasus, new influences streamed into its existing musical traditions. Local rhythms and instruments gracefully intertwined with Ottoman practices, symbolizing a continuous evolution borne of cultural exchange. Ottoman musicians were celebrated for their improvisational prowess, showcasing extended sections of taksim — an art form wherein the musician freely expressed themselves within a given makam. This improvisational spirit exemplified the creative freedom inherent in the musical tradition, a legacy that would continue to thrive.

By the 17th century, not only were performances flourishing, but the theoretical underpinnings of music began to take shape in treatises discussing its connection to mathematics and cosmology. In this period, music emerged as more than just an artistic expression; it became a lens through which to explore the world.

The military bands, too, played a dual role, appearing not only in battles but also in ceremonial processions. Their music transformed into a projection of imperial power and unity, embodying the might and majesty of the Ottoman Empire. With each note, they crafted a narrative of strength, authority, and cultural richness — a soundscape that resonated far and wide.

In reflecting on the musical legacy of the Ottoman Empire, it becomes clear that it left behind a profound influence not only on neighboring regions but on the global music scene itself. The echoes of Ottoman musical traditions would seep into the fabric of the Balkans, the Caucasus, and the Middle East, as local musicians embraced and adapted Ottoman styles to their unique contexts.

Today, as the world grapples with the complexities of cultural exchange and identity, the legacy of the Ottoman Empire serves as a poignant reminder of the power of music to transcend boundaries. It asks us to consider how the rivalries in sound — between dastgah and makam, tradition and innovation — continue to shape our understanding of culture.

In imagining the rich aural tapestries created over centuries, one must wonder: what melodies linger in the air, waiting to be rediscovered in our own lives? What insights might we glean when we dive deep into the symphonies of history? The legacy of sound remains a mirror reflecting not only the past but the ever-unfolding possibilities of our shared human experience.