Iranian Music and Popular Entertainment

From Motrebi to Losanjelesi and Beyond

GJ Breyley, Sasan Fatemi

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2015
• ISBN:
  9781317336792
• Edition: 1
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Middle Eastern History
• Index: History

The word motreb finds its roots in the Arabic verb taraba, meaning 'to make happy.' Originally denoting all musicians in Iran, motrebi came to be associated, pejoratively, with the cheerful vulgarity of the lowbrow entertainer.

In Iranian Music and Popular Entertainment, GJ Breyley and Sasan Fatemi examine the historically overlooked motrebi milieu, with its marginalized characters, from luti to gardan koloft and mashti, as well as the tenacity of motreb who continued their careers against all odds. They then turn to losanjelesi, the most pervasive form of Iranian popular music that developed as motrebi declined, and related musical forms in Iran and its diasporic popular cultural centre, Los Angeles. For the first time in English, the book makes available musical transcriptions, analysis and lyrics that illustrate the complexities of this history. As it presents the findings of the authors' years of ethnographic work with the history's protagonists, from senior motreb to pop-rock stars, the book reveals parallels between the decline of motrebi and the rise of 'modernity.' In the twentieth century, the fate of Tehran's motrebi music was shaped by the social and urban polarization that ensued from the modern market economy, and losanjelesi would be similarly affected by transnational relations, revolution, war and migration.

Through its detailed and informed examination of Iranian popular music, this study reveals much about the values and anxieties of Iranian society, and is a valuable resource for students and scholars of Iranian society and history.

1 “Producing pleasure”

Tehran's Motreb and Ruhowzi

DOI: 10.4324/9781315660349-1

At the beginning of the twentieth century, urban Iran gradually began to be polarized socially, a process that was reflected in the spatial polarization of the city of Tehran. The Iranian capital began to divide into two halves, the north and the south of the city, which came to be seen respectively as “modern” and “traditional.” With this division, the field of activity of festive musicians, the motreb, who had previously enlivened the celebrations of all social classes, was limited to the south, while North Tehran became the realm of a new category of festive musician, which began to adapt itself to the new requirements of the emerging bourgeoisie. The motreb organized themselves under the direction of theatrical troupes, with which they had previously been sporadically associated. Large motrebi groups began to present a new musical program, known as ruhowzi, on the covered pools of houses in South Tehran, at private festivities. This chapter examines the motreb’s change in status at this time, the formation of motrebi ruhowzi groups, and the internal organization of these groups.

Who are the motreb?

If the word motreb (derived from Arabic, literally “one who creates joy or generates pleasure”) once referred to all categories of musician without differentiation, today – more precisely, since the beginning of the twentieth century – it has become a derogatory term that is applied only to musicians who perform at weddings, parties and other festive events, to distinguish them from those who practice Iranian art music. The term motreb is closely linked to a form of performance known as ruhowzi, which also emerged at the beginning of the twentieth century, bringing together musicians and actors in large theatrical troupes for the animation of festivities. The best motreb could be found in these troupes, which did not survive the 1979 revolution. In the twenty-first century, only memories remain of their performances, and the large troupes that today’s remaining motreb (Figure 1.1 ) consider symbols of a golden age are gone forever.

In the eyes of many Tehran residents, the motreb is an illiterate, downtown (pâyin-e shahri) ¹ musician. His manners are uncouth and he lacks respectability. ² He drinks alcohol and visits prostitutes, who also work in the motreb’s professional group as dancers, singers or actors. A respectable woman never openly speaks to a motreb, as such behaviour could be interpreted as a sign of deliberate provocation. The motreb is tastelessly dressed, in the downtown style, and speaks with the “vulgar” accent unique to Tehran’s street people. He has a profoundly traditional mentality, but is by no means devout. It is impossible to imagine a motreb saying his daily prayers and it is assumed that he is capable of doing everything that religion forbids. The motreb plays or sings only for money and the notion of cultural or artistic pursuit is totally foreign to him. His character is malignant and sardonic. He is appreciated for his predilection for jokes and buffoonery, but he can be quite indecent. It is particularly necessary to avoid putting him in a situation that allows him to use his tongue freely. His vocabulary of swear words is inexhaustible and he uses it very naturally.

Figure 1.1 Hushang Shirâzi and Hasan Hoseynzâde, 1996

The above image of the motreb is, of course, a caricature and it goes without saying that among these musicians and actors are individuals with different personalities and habits. However, it is this general image of the motreb that marginalizes them in a society that wishes to be – or to be seen as – “modern” and “progressive.” The older motreb’s traditional forms of social life, which have been faithfully conserved by today’s motreb, further marginalize them. The meeting place par excellence of these men is, as ever, the qahve khâne, the coffeehouse, and particularly those establishments in the old popular quarter of the city. Café Javânân (“Youth Café”), in Kârgar (“Worker”) Street, is built just in front of the entrance to a large park, which replaced Tehran’s brothel, Shahr-e Now, after the 1979 Islamic revolution (see Figure 1.2 ). It is here that, in thoroughly traditional decor, all kinds of motreb meet, drink tea, smoke water pipe and eat dizi, the traditional working man’s rich soup that remains the principal meal served in coffeehouses. Like all cafés of this type, it is a strictly masculine space, with its own circle of permanent clients, and here this circle is also professionally defined: motreb musicians, motreb actors, former acrobats, jugglers, magicians, clowns, puppeteers and figures from the popular film industry. Here, the appearance of a stranger is immediately noticed and provokes the suspicion of these scorned artists, who see themselves as an object of espionage by a religious government that, in turn, has its suspicions about the motreb.

Figure 1.2 Old quarters of Tehran, the limits of which correspond approximately to those of late-nineteenth-century Tehran (details are omitted)

Today these quarters constitute no more than 0.02% of the city’s surface area.

1. Kâfé
2. Theatres
3. Mulan Ruzh (Moulin Rouge)
4. Café Loqânte
5. Shokufe Now
6. Café Javânan
7. Musical instrument and Eko shops
8. Emâmzâde Zeyd
9. The zurkhâne of Sha’bân Ja’fari
10. Sed Vali
11. Dâr-ol-Fonun

*The name of this street is now Mostafâ Khomeyin

Locations are mostly approximate.

The area in which this café is located was not always, however, the appropriate place for those motreb who had attained a higher professional level. Before the 1979 revolution, such motreb would meet in several “agencies of pleasure” (bongâh-e shâdemâni) scattered along the length of Sirus Street, between an intersection of the same name and another called Sarcheshme, some kilometres to the east of the Shahr-e Now quarter. These agencies, which were in fact the administrative offices of motrebi troupes, have been replaced in the twenty-first century by shops selling musical instruments and shops known as Eko Musik, ³ which have hifi and sound equipment, such as amplifiers, loudspeakers and microphones, for hire (Figure 1.3 ). These places are still frequented by motreb, but only sporadically, Café Javânân remaining the meeting place par excellence.

The two motrebi districts, Shahr-e Now and Sirus Street, have since become lost in the vastness of the city. However, until the 1920s, they were close to the western and eastern extremities of Tehran. Both quarters were just south of Tupkhâne Square, the royal palace area of Iran’s penultimate dynasty, the Qâjârs. This space, in which the motreb were and, to some extent remain, active, corresponds approximately to what old Tehranis like to call the “real Tehran.” It is here that nearly all the city’s historic sites, most significantly the traditional bazaar, are located. This “real Tehran,” which was once home to the capital’s entire population, from royals and aristocrats to workers and the destitute, and without which the city would have no history, has, since Tehran’s rapid expansion, become part of the city’s traditional centre or downtown. The area is populated in part by people considered socioeconomically inferior or disadvantaged and partly by opulent traditionalists who are deemed culturally inferior by advocates of “modernity.” In fact, the emerging middle classes left the old city for the less privileged and for those who preferred, in some middle-class eyes, an “archaic” way of life, to go and construct a wealthy, “westernized” uptown in North Tehran. Tehran’s downtown remained, predictably, little affected by the capital’s cultural modernization games or, rather, it participated in a rudimentary fashion. It was through this participation that a significant subculture was created, in which the lower social classes’ “traditional” attitudes and patterns of behaviour were blended with certain elements of Tehran’s “modernizing” society. The motreb belong to this subculture.

Figure 1.3 Eko shop, 2012

Society’s image of the motreb as representatives of a cultural stratum that, by its perceived uncouthness, offends decency and is an affront to social values, extends to the broader milieu of music itself. Many so-called serious musicians believe that the uncultivated motreb’s “lightness” and “indecency” were essentially responsible for the clergy’s prohibition of music and that the rehabilitation of the art of music requires the isolation of motreb. ⁴ The marginalization of motreb in the musical milieu is not only attributable to “serious” musicians. Even those who belong to the domain of variety entertainment and popular music tend to hold motreb in contempt. For them, as for other musicians, khâlturi is a pejorative reference to motrebi music. This term relates to khâltur, a word borrowed from the jargon of motreb themselves, referring to musical gatherings (cf. Fatemi 2000: 325). Khâlturi music is the most mediocre imaginable, with a very danceable 6/8 rhythm evoking scenes of debauchery in brothels, a simple and extremely trite melody, and lyrics of meagre substance in colloquial language.

Of course, musicians in variety entertainment and popular music do not have the same criteria for their critique of these marginal musicians as performers of “serious” music. The latter have in common with the motreb a musical system, that of so-called traditional Iranian music, while the former share with them a musical genre. It could be said that where the system is shared, it is the genre that lowers the motreb on the artistic scale, and where the genre is shared, it is the musical system. Pop musicians, mostly deeply westernized, cannot abide the motreb’s inability to adapt to the new values of “modern” society, including the musical milieu’s modern, westernized tendencies. It is true that the motreb were largely untouched by the westernization of the musical system and, while they accepted, for example, the hegemony of the violin, that was due to the violin’s capacity to play micro-intervals. Nearly all motreb violinists also play the kamânche, the traditional spike fiddle, in any case. The use of such instruments as the accordion and clarinet is limited among motreb and they have not yet integrated the king of eastern popular music, the synthesizer, in their ensembles.

It would be simplistic to claim that the motreb’s disregard of modernity was due to their incapacity to learn the rules of western music and the performance techniques of western instruments. However, it is not necessarily the case that their resistance to “modernity” indicates a deep attachment to “tradition.” There is not one motreb who, to improve his status in the eyes of his interlocutor, especially one with high social status, would not mention the glory of his brilliant colleagues in the official musical milieu or who would not demonstrate his ability to reproduce certain popular songs and even western dance tunes. While one recounts his memories of working with a great pop star, another plays one or two tangos or paso dobles on his kamânche. Some are proud to have performed on radio or have carefully preserved old posters as evidence of their appearances in celebrated prerevolutionary cafés. Even before greeting his guest, a motreb will sometimes present an old contract from a film in which he performed as a musician. Among a motreb’s best memories is the time a certain master of traditional music confirmed his competence as an instrumentalist.

All of this demonstrates that the low status of motreb is an embarrassment to them and that they have done, and continue to do, whatever might change this status, without, however, achieving their aim. Even the fact that they were invited to the royal court, which they recount with great pride, cannot change their inferior status. Worst of all, they have themselves come to accept this status of inferiority. As they describe their encounters with great musicians, they effectively bow down before the masters. This is the case even in the milieu of light westernized music. A motreb is flattered to have played at the birthday party of a pop star’s son and, to reinforce the image of his humility that such a memory evokes, he remembers to add that he was slapped by the star’s husband, an influential personality in the music milieu and the owner of a large uptown cabaret, when he dared to ask for his pay before the agreed date.

In effect, the motreb’s attempts to improve their status amounted to a superficial imitation of the official musical milieu, without any renunciation of their personal musical tastes and the essential elements of their business, which had entailed a kind of simulation of modernity since the time of the constitutional revolution in 1906. However, in theory, they justify their existence, at least in relation to “serious” musicians, with a good argument,...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Half Title Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Table of Contents
• List of figures
• Foreword: Iranian music and popular entertainment: from Motrebi to Losanjelesi and beyond
• Acknowledgements
• 1 “Producing pleasure”: Tehran’s Motreb and Ruhowzi
• 2 Contradictory characters and marginalization: from Luti to Gardan Koloft and Mashti
• 3 The repertoires of Motrebi music
• 4 The evolution of the Motrebi milieu
• 5 The evolution of Iranian popular music
• 6 Before the revolution: television, “the West” and “modernity” (1965–79)
• 7 After the revolution: the Los Angeles factor (1979–97)
• 8 Made in Iran: new popular music (1997–2014)
• Conclusion
• Bibliography
• Index