Time passing

In the poem Gozaran (Time passing), the Persian poet Forough Farrokhzad described the inevitability of time passing while trying to hold on to fading memories. The final lines of the English translation by Hasan Javadi read:

So tainted with fear of extinction
is my sorrowful love
that my whole life quakes
as I look at you
it is as if
I watch from a window my only tree laden with leaves
in the yellow fever of fall.
It is as if I trace a picture
in the chaotic currents of a flowing stream
Day and night
Day and night
Day and night
Let me
forget.
What are you, but a moment, a moment which opens my eyes
in the desert of awareness?
Let me
forget.

These lines serve as the motto of a beautiful documentary by Frank Scheffer about Nader Mashayekhi, who was trained as a conductor in Europe and returned later in life to his homeland, Iran, hoping to bring Gustav Mahler’s music to life there. In breathtaking close-ups of the young musicians of the Tehran Symphony Orchestra, we witness them rehearsing the fragile Urlicht from Mahler’s Second Symphony. As the music gradually fades, we see the conductor walking through an overwhelming landscape of desert and mountains, reflecting on silence. ‘We have forgotten silence. We have forgotten the fact that in order to hear sound, we need silence. If there is no silence, we will be restrained from hearing different sounds.’ This last point is particularly challenging in Iranian society, where poetry and the written word are central. ‘The problem is not making music, it is hearing music’.

Love for one’s craft, teaching, and dedication – themes that we as academics recognise

The documentary addresses universal themes: living for one’s ideals, love for one’s craft, teaching, and dedication – themes that we as academics recognise, ideals that drive us too. Mashayekhi hopes to connect cultures through music. Yet what is built with great effort can often be destroyed with ease. Towards the end of the documentary, Mashayekhi’s dream collapses when the newly elected Iranian regime bans playing music. Disillusioned, he returns to the West, though he still hopes that his music has planted a small seed. He does not abandon his ideals: he visits the Estonian composer Arvo Pärt and discusses his project to perform Fratres using traditional Persian instruments.

Next week, I will reach a significant milestone – another moment to pause and reflect on the passage of time. With the year-end holidays around the corner, I look forward to some silence and a few peaceful walks through the winter woods.