If you eat asparagus, or if you start your meal with soup and end with dessert, or if you use toothpaste, or if you wear your hair in bangs, you owe a lot to one of the greatest musicians in history.
He was known as Ziryab, a colloquial Arabic term that translates as "blackbird." He lived in medieval Spain more than a thousand years ago. He was a freed slave who made good, charming the royal court at
Cordoba with his songs. He founded a music school whose fame survived more than 500 years after his death. Ibn Hayyan of
Cordoba, one of Arab Spain's greatest historians, says in his monumental Al-Muqtabas (The Citation) that Ziryab knew thousands of songs by heart and revolutionized the design of the musical instrument that became the lute. He spread a new musical style around the Mediterranean, influencing troubadours and minstrels and affecting the course of European music.
He was also his generation's arbiter of taste and style and manners, and he exerted enormous influence on medieval European society. How people dressed, what and how they ate, how they groomed themselves, what music they
enjoyed-all were influenced by Ziryab.
If you've never heard of this remarkable artist, it's not surprising. With the twists and turns of history, his name has dropped from public memory in the western world. But the changes he brought to Europe are very much a part of the reality we know today.
One reason Ziryab is unknown to us is that he spoke Arabic, and was part of the royal court of the Arab empire in Spain. Muslims from Arabia and North Africa ruled part of Spain from AD 711 until 1492. The last remnant of Arab rule in the Iberian Peninsula, the Kingdom of Granada, was conquered by the armies of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella in the same year that Columbus sailed for the New World.
The Arabs called their Iberian domain Al-Andalus-a direct reference to the Vandals, who occupied the peninsula in the fifth century and whose legacy was still pervasive when Muslim forces arrived in the
eighth-and that name survives today in the name of Spain's southern province, Andalusia. At its peak, Al-Andalus experienced a golden age of civilization that was the envy of all Europe, and which set the stage for the European Renaissance that followed. Muslims, Christians and Jews interacted in a convivencia-a
"living-together"-of tolerance and cooperation unparalleled in its time. Influences from Arab Spain spread to France and throughout Europe, and from there to the Americas. It was in this context that the achievements of Ziryab became part of western culture.
Ziryab's achievements were not forgotten in the Arab world, and it is from historians there that we know of his life and accomplishments. As the 17th-century Arab historian al-Maqqari says in his Nafb al-Tib (Fragrant Breeze), "There never was, either before or after him, a man of his profession who was more generally beloved and admired."
Blackbird was actually named Abu al-Hasan 'Ali ibn Nafi', and he was born in about the year 789 in the land now called Iraq, perhaps in its capital, Baghdad. Some Arab historians say he was a freed
slave-apparently a page or personal servant-whose family had served al-Mahdi, the caliph or ruler of the Baghdad-based Abbasid empire from 775 until his death in 785. In those days, many prominent musicians were slaves or freedmen, some of African origin, others from Europe or the Middle East (including Kurdistan and Persia). Historians differ over whether Ziryab was African, Persian or Kurdish. According to Ibn Hayyan, 'Ali Ibn Nafi' was called Blackbird because of his extremely dark complexion, the clarity of his voice and "the sweetness of his character."
Blackbird studied music under the famous singer and royal court musician Ishaq al-Mawsili ("Isaac of Mosul"). Ishaq, his even more celebrated father, Ibrahim, and Ziryab are the three artists known as the fathers of Arabic music.
Baghdad was then a world center for culture, art and science. Its most famous ruler was Harun al-Rashid, who succeeded al-Mahdi. Harun was a lover of music, and brought many singers and musicians to the palace for the entertainment of his guests. Ishaq, as Harun's chief musician, trained a number of students in the musical arts, among them Blackbird. Ziryab was intelligent and had a good ear; outside his lessons, he surreptitiously learned the songs of his master, which were said to have been complex and difficult even for an expert. Ishaq did not realize how much Ziryab had learned until Harun himself asked to hear the young musician.
In Ibn Hayyan's account (as related by al-Maqqari), Ishaq told the caliph, "Yes, I've heard some nice things from Ziryab, some clear and emotional
melodies-particularly some of my own rather unusual renditions. I taught him those songs because I considered them especially suited to his skill."
Ziryab was summoned, and he sang for Harun al-Rashid. Afterward, when the caliph spoke to him, Ziryab answered "gracefully, with real charm of manner." Harun asked him about his skill, and Blackbird replied, "I can sing what the other singers know, but most of my repertory is made up of songs suitable only to be performed before a caliph like Your Majesty. The other singers don't know those numbers. If Your Majesty permits, I'll sing for you what human ears have never heard before."
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Harun raised his eyebrows, and ordered that master Ishaq's lute be handed to Ziryab. The Arabian lute or 'ud, model of the European lute and relative of the guitar, was an instrument with four courses of strings, a body shaped like half a pear and a bent, fretless neck.
Ziryab respectfully declined the instrument. "I've brought my own lute," he said, "which I made
myself-stripping the wood and working it-and no other instrument satisfies me. I left it at the palace gate and, with your permission, I'll send for it."
Harun sent for the lute. He examined it. It looked like Ishaq al-Mawsuli's.
"Why won't you play your master's lute?" the caliph asked.
"If the caliph wants me to sing in my master's style, I'll use his lute. But to sing in my own style, I need this instrument."
"They look alike to me," Harun said.
"At first glance, yes," said Ziryab, "but even though the wood and the size are the same, the weight is not. My lute weighs about a third less than Ishaq's, and my strings are made of silk that has not been spun with hot
water-which weakens them. The bass and third strings are made of lion gut, which is softer and more sonorous than that of any other animal. These strings are stronger than any others, and they can better withstand the striking of the pick." Ziryab's pick was a sharpened eagle's claw, rather than the usual piece of carved wood. He had also, significantly, added a fifth course of strings to the instrument.
Harun was satisfied. He ordered Ziryab to perform, and the young man began a song he had composed himself. The caliph was quite impressed. He turned to al-Mawsuli and said, "If I thought you had been hiding this man's extraordinary ability, I'd punish you for not telling me about him. Continue his instruction until it's completed. For my part, I want to contribute to his development."
Ziryab had apparently concealed his finest talents from his own teacher. When Ishaq was finally alone with his pupil, he raged about being deceived. He said frankly that he was jealous of Ziryab's skill, and feared the pupil would soon replace the master in the caliph's favor.
"I could pardon this in no man, not even my own son," Ishaq said. "If I weren't still somewhat fond of you, I wouldn't hesitate to kill you, regardless of the consequences. Here is your choice: Leave Baghdad, take up residence far from here, and swear that I'll never hear from you again. If you do this, I'll give you enough money to meet your needs. But if you choose to stay and spite
me-I warn you, I'll risk my life and all I possess to crush you. Make your choice!"
Ziryab did not hesitate; he took the money and left the Abbasid capital. Ishaq explained his protˇgˇÕs absence by claiming that Ziryab was mentally unbalanced and had left Baghdad in a rage at not receiving a gift from the caliph. "The young man is possessed," Ishaq told Harun al-Rashid. "He's subject to fits of frenzy that are horrible to witness. He believes the jinn speak with him and inspire his music. He's so vain he believes his talent is unequaled in the world. I don't know where he is now. Be thankful, Your Majesty, that he's gone."
There was a germ of truth in Ishaq's tale: According to Ibn Hayyan and others, Ziryab did believe that in his dreams he heard the songs of the jinn, the spirit beings of Islamic and Arab lore. He would wake from a dream in the middle of the night and summon his own students, teaching them the melodies he had heard in his dreams.
As Reinhart Dozy notes in Histoire des Musulmans d'Espagne, "None knew better than Ishaq that there was no insanity in all this: What true artist, indeed, whether believing in jinn or not, has not known moments when he has been under the sway of emotions hard to define, and savoring of the supernatural?"
Ziryab and his family fled from Baghdad to Egypt and crossed North Africa to Kairouan in present-day Tunisia, seat of the Aghlabid dynasty of Ziyadat Allah I. There he was welcomed by the royal court. But he had no intention of staying in Kairouan; his eyes were on Spain. Under the Umayyads,
Cordoba was fast becoming a cultural jewel to rival Baghdad, and Blackbird thought
Cordoba might be a fit setting for his talents.
Ziryab wrote to al-Hakam, ruler of the emirate of Al-Andalus, and offered his musical skills. Al-Hakam, delighted with the prospect of adding a Baghdad musician to his court, wrote back inviting Ziryab to proceed to
Cordoba. He offered the musician a handsome salary. Ziryab and his family packed their bags and headed overland to the Strait of Gibraltar. There they embarked on a ship bound for Algeciras, Spain.
When Ziryab arrived in Spain in the year 822, he was shocked to learn that al-Hakam was dead. Devastated, the young musician prepared to return to North Africa. But thanks to the glowing recommendation of Abu al-Nasr Mansur, a Jewish musician of the
Cordoban royal court, al-Hakam's son and successor 'Abd al-Rahman II renewed the invitation to
Ziryab.
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