A Big Assignment

2011-06-15T07:26:00.006-05:00

From Nino Bitton - yes, the Nino Bitton, master of the oud - comes this unique approach to the task of preserving ephemeral media:

Sounds from another world, at a very low volume and of terrible audio quality, welcome the visitor to Nino Bitton's small apartment. They sound like broadcasts from an ancient Arab world, which has long since ceased to exist outside isolated enclaves like this Jerusalem living room. What are we listening to? "Algerian music from before you were born. I recorded it many years ago from Algerian radio. That's my school," says Bitton, regarding his favorite recordings.

Those recordings were made with great effort and even caused Bitton physical harm. In the 1960s and the 1970s, when he began his campaign to research Andalusian music in depth, Bitton discovered that, after the end of the Israel Radio broadcasts at midnight, he could hear Algerian radio. But in order to get a reception he had to go up to the roof and connect to the building antenna. So Bitton would go up to the roof every night and listen to songs. He fell from the roof four times. "I almost lost my life because of this music," he says.

The rest of this fine Haaretz article details his devotion to music and ends with a quote that, if I may be a bit presumptuous and pretentious and self-flattering, could serve as my own statement of purpose (though ask me in two years if I'm still so cavalier about the final four words...):

"When I started to become involved with this music my father warned me that it was about to disappear," Bitton says. "He was right. It really is disappearing. There isn't anyone today who teaches this thing. It was about to be erased. So I took on a big assignment, and I teach these young people. I've devoted my entire life to this music, to this poetry and this understanding, and all I want is to pass it on. God brought me to this destiny to teach students without compensation, without anything."

(via The Arty Semite)

It Ain't Cool

A Big Assignment