A week ago, Mohammad Syfkhan was an unknown entity to me. That changed when a friend got us entry to his gig on a Friday night at a bar located in Dublin’s Portobello, an event that was heavily attended. Since then, I’ve read an excellent profile piece on Syfkhan contributed by Aoife Barry— published in the Arts section of this paper on April 2nd. I must say, I am delighted to have hopped onto the Syfkhan bandwagon while there was space.
A couple of songs into his performance, I found myself utterly captivated by the harmonious melody created by his voice, accompanied by a bouzouki and a beatbox. Wondering about his roots, I questioned the lady seated next to me, who appeared to be an acquaintance of his. She unveiled that he hails from Carrick-on-Shannon. Indeed, he resides there and possesses Irish citizenship, having arrived in Ireland as a refugee in 2016 from the dangerous war-torn city of Raqqa in Syria, which cost him the life of his son and compelled his family to seek refuge.
Although he’s settled in Ireland, the essence of his music emanates a more Levantine rhythm than that of Leitrim, seemingly creating a similar spell on the audience here. In her review of Syfkhan’s inaugural album, Aoife Barry threw down a gauntlet, challenging listeners to resist dancing when the tune ‘I Am Kurdish’ plays. Despite initial attempts at restraint, the majority of us who attended the concert eventually surrendered to the catchy rhythm.
The majority of his compositions were in Kurdish, as far as I could tell. However, there were a few songs – including a rendition from the legendary Lebanese vocalist Fairuz – that united the Egyptians, Moroccans, and Syrians in the crowd in a collective sing-along. Despite the Arabic language boasting around 20 variants, everyone seemed familiar with the lyrics and the joy in the room was palpable.
At first glance, the polished, compact man in a grey suit who walked onto the stage appeared more akin to a broker than a conjurer of melodic spells. And while he has likely grown familiar with the crowd’s reaction, his expression throughout the night hinted at his own astonishment, verging on concern, about the kind of appeal he has over his listeners.
Despite the intensity of the performance, he appeared to be relishing the moment. Following his electrifying act that pushed the audience’s excitement to the edge, he departed the stage briefly after 11pm, only to return for what was supposed to be a quick encore. However, he performed for an additional hour. Some audience members were forced to leave before the end to catch their final buses. Nevertheless, reminiscent of Joe Dolan, he ensured that no one left without feeling the heat of the performance.
Intriguingly, while the bouzouki is universally known as a Greek instrument, fans of Plaxty and Bothy Band know it as a native, albeit in a different form, Irish instrument for the past 60 years. The instrument was introduced to Irish music by the 1960’s folk group Sweeney’s Men member, Johnny Moynihan, or possibly a friend of his who struggled to play it. Another member of the band, Andy Irvine, also played a crucial role in naturalising the instrument in Ireland, as he gave one to Dónal Lunny. Lunny adjusted the strings to accommodate his left-handed play, thus creating a local flavour.
Both Irvine and Lunny, with some contribution from Alec Finn of De Dannan fame, incorporated the instrument into the popular group Planxty, marking the birth of the Irish bouzouki. The tale of Irvine’s first acquisition of the instrument involves his journey to Greece which was under a fascist military regime in 1969. Not wanting to fund the Greek economy, Irvine sold his own blood and used the money to purchase the bouzouki, an act that made the instrument a significant part of the Irish origin myth. Upon his return, he gave Lunny the bouzouki which Lunny quickly mastered, prompting Irvine to gift it to him permanently.
Mohammad Syfkhan has benefited immensely from the enthusiasm of the Irish towards various genres of music. He has managed to strike a chord with the local populace with his first album, yielding more sales than any other merch released under Nyaah Records, the Leitrim-based label. This can be attributed in part, to the local history of the bouzouki.
The link between folk tunes worldwide is undeniable, with groups such as the Chieftains tirelessly showcasing this fact. In different settings, “Nyaah” could be mistaken for a word of either African or Middle-Eastern origin. However, in Leitrim, the word represents the quintessential sound that aspirants of sean-nós singing must master before obtaining their licences.