Yehoshua Rahamim Dufour

Here is my “ostad” (master) in classical Iranian music, Keyhan Nehman, in Jerusalem, in front of his ancestral santur which he is teaching me in the Merkaz lamouzika min ha mizra'h, Center for Middle East Classical Music, in Jérusalem...
In Iran, Keyhan Nehman was a student of the great ostad, Faramarz Payvar (listen to him on You Tube), known as the father of the santur, and he himself is descended from a direct lineage of great masters. Understanding this delicate, spiritual music is not a problem for me: executing it is another story! One should read the books of Jean During (in French: "Quelque chose se passe: Le sens de la tradition dans l’Orient musical". Verdier publishers) in order to discover this cultural and spiritual music and the relationship “between master and student. The one requests, the other gives: something happens, something takes place.

Listen to the master Keyhan Nehman play

In the course of a visit to my home, Roee Suffrin was visibly moved by the sight of this Persian instrument. Although he plays contemporary music and instruments, he had never had any contact with this instrument or with ancient classical music.

I suggested he try to play the instrument and was astounded when - wondrously - I immediately heard, emanating from his hands, the repertoire and melodic notes, the dastgah which my ostad is directing me to, in particular the âvâz Esfahan, that express spiritual and romantic love, and devotion to truth.

At that moment, I discovered:
1. the living musical tradition that resides in a painter’s inner being.
2. his ability to see and to grasp the essence of things.
3. his ability to express and to share this with others.

 

1. The living musical tradition that resides in a painter’s inner being.

I learnt a lot that day about what makes a true painter. He is not solely doted with his own artistic talent. He has also, clearly, been nourished by generations of art, which dwell within him. Thus, if he is a great artist, his perception, vibration, grasp and projection on the canvas are greater than his personal sensitivity and art. He knows how to listen with the inner instruments he has inherited, adding, to them, his personal, individual approach.

 

The ancient tradition of his maternal Jewish ancestors in Persia and Iran is present in his art. And in his spontaneous respiration. Equally unconsciously, the inscription in German (“culture cannot be bought”) evokes the presence of his paternal generations of Ashkenazi Judaism. The scene captured, as in these ancient miniatures, is banal but is revealed for what it is: mystical.

Listening to his music evoked the scenes from these Persian miniatures.

And the eternal quality of the dialogue between Esther and the King of kings further imbues the depiction of Creation, when the painter feels his brush is ready to paint a scene which he will transfigure, even the most concrete of scenes.

Here is the tomb of a Jew in Iran, that of the Prophet Daniel (see link)

The artist’s work evokes the way art is experienced in Iran, as something connected to ancestral traditions. This is seen not only in Iran’s works of art over the centuries, as in other countries, but also in the national hymn “Ey Iran,” which uses the word “honar” (art) to define the soil of the country.

This is the most popular hymn in Iran. It was written by Hossein Gole Golah in 1946 after Iran was invaded by its enemies and was set to music by Ruhollah Khaleghi. It became an immediate hit because it reflected the soul of the nation, even though the authorities opposed it and refused to recognize it as the national anthem. It continued to be a symbol of the nation in the period between the era of the Shah and the adoption of an official anthem (Soroud-e Melli-eJohmhouri-e Eslami) by the Islamic Republic of Iran in March 1989. It is still considered, by Iranian dissidents and the general population, as their de facto national anthem.

Here are the first two verses, which concern us:

(click here to listen to the hymn)

“Ey Iran ey marz-e por gohar
Ey khakat sar sheshmeh-ye honar.

Translation:
O Iran, O land full of jewels,
You are the gushing source of art.”

Since that initial encounter, Roee Suffrin continues to play the santur.

To continue with what I discovered during that astonishing experience.

2. His ability to see and grasp the essence of things.

In the space of a few seconds, Roee Suffrin was in touch with his inner music. Like “shiviti” in the Psalm 16,8 that characterizes Jewish meditation (link): “chiviti Hashem le negdi tamid, I have set Hashem always before me.” I have set and re-set You before me. And like the “hineni” (here am I) of the prophets and “bedar gahat” (before You) in Persian tradition.

I had witnessed directly what Arthur Rimbaud described in his Letter from a Seer:

“I say that one must be a seer, make oneself a seer. The poet makes himself a see by a long, prodigious and rational disordering of all the senses. Every form of love, of suffering, of madness: he searches himself, he consumes all the poisons in him and keeps only their quintessences. Inexpressible torture where he needs all the faith, superhuman strength, where he becomes, above all others, the great invalid, the great criminal, the great accursed, -- and the supreme Savant – For he arrives at the unknown! Since he cultivated his soul, already rich, more than anyone else! He reaches the unknown, and when, terrified, he ends up by losing the meaning of his visions, at least he has seen them!”
Arthur Rimbaud. Letter from a Seer, to Paul Demeny, May 15.1871. He is 17 years old on the picture.

We find the same idea in “rendi” (free-thinker) in the poem (Ghazal 220) in his "Divan" (collection of poems), by Iranian poet Hafez de Shiraz.

Listen to Hafez de Shiraz

I understood then the special perception of Roee Suffrin’s, when he paints, fully concentrated on his inner feelings.

 

 

Like through the eyes of Durer

  

or of Rembrandt:

 

These are eyes which see the essence of things, without distortion:

(Photos Dufour. Copyright).

3. Finally, I understood at the same time the ability of a great painter to exteriorize and share his unique perception.

This is something which is not learnt in art classes or in art schools. It is something which one possesses or one doesn’t.
A true painter is not a solitary mystic, isolated from humanity. Without words (this is important), on the canvas screen, he depicts what he sees and experiences.

I had experienced this already in 1981 when Hassan Massoudy (link) drew for me in Arabic calligraphy the phrase: men are born free and equal.

He had depicted his inner being. I have treasured these drawings ever since, as I was convinced of his greatness and the future proved me right.

A miracle takes place for society when the talent and inner intensity of a painter are communicated, without words, awakening and revealing in the spectator his own inner world. The experience then becomes a common voyage.

 

The spectator then experiences what I experienced and observed in those who own paintings by Roee Suffrin:
Each time they look at a painting, over the course of days, communicates anew,

like the daily rise of the sun, the experience described in the voyage of Rimbaud.
This is the meaning of the work of a great painter.
Through his eyes, an encounter takes place between two beings. The painter has succeeded.