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| Photograph © Salina Christmas |
| "Do not use flash. These guys are in meditation. Your camera flash distracts them. And keep your camera in silent mode." |
Words by Salina Christmas I went to see the twirling dervishes in Istanbul for two reasons: a) curiosity, b) I was scared shitless of the hamam (the Turkish bath). Stories of massages that feel more like an assault than therapy put me off big time. There are many religious fraternities in Istanbul that do this particular adoration rite. The most popular one is the Istanbul Galata Mevlevi Lodge. They perform on Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays at the Istanbul Sirkeci Train Station. Train station? Yes, in one of the waiting rooms on Platform No 1. Alternatively, you can see a similar rite at a former Turkish bath on a Saturday. Both venues are a bit odd, actually, given that the rite is meant to be religious. But this is as good as it gets for the tourists. Apparently, the real sufi rite, conducted on Thursday nights at a local mosque in the nearby district of Fatih, is not really opened to tourists. I suspect it would be even harder for women to witness it. What to look for in this performance? The booklet handed out to you when you hand in your ticket will explain to you the history of the rite, and the significance of the whirling. The white flowing skirt signifies the shroud, the black robe the tomb and the tall brown hat the hubris of man. The session goes on for an hour: the first half is a musical performance; the second half is when you whip out your camera to capture the twirling dervishes. Do not use flash. These guys are in meditation. Your camera flash distracts them. And keep your camera in silent mode. If you have a video camera, charge up your battery so you can keep it recording for over an hour - the sound of your cheap camera switching on and off is annoying. The songs are sung in Arabic, praising the Prophet Muhammad. The more religious Muslims wouldn't approve of the use of strings and woodwinds, but this is not a rite dictated by the holy books. It was invented by someone, and popularised by Jalaluddin Rumi eight centuries ago in Konya, Turkey. The only time the music is not played is when the Quranic verses are chanted. At the end of it, the chanter will ask the audience to recite silently 'The Opening' chapter (Al Fatihah). Those who understand will do so; those who don't should stay silent. I made the mistake of turning up 15 minutes early (the show starts at 7.30pm) and I got the lousiest seat in the house. On my second visit, I turned up one hour early and I got the best seat. Ticket prices vary: the street touts outside Hagia Sophia can sell you the tickets at YTL15 to YTL25. I got mine via the hotel reception at YTL35 - I couldn't be arsed haggling with touts. The twirling dervishes are amazing to watch. You don't have to understand where they come from, and why they do the twirling thing to be captivated by its beauty. But if you like to know what's going on, let's put it this way: sufism was the engine behind all those artistic and literary achievements you see in that culture. The modern musical notes that we recognise today are only a few of the manifestations. It might sound weird, but this pro-abstract movement is not much different in principle from, say, deep house. Listen to it and you'll understand what I mean. Check Salina's photo reportage
www.sojournposse.com/sjp21/turkey/sufism
Performance on Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays at 7.30pm, Platform No. 1, Istanbul Sirkeci Train Station |
