Islam as Expressed Through Artistic Mediums

Poem by Sheikh Fareed (d. 1266):

Fareed, my withered body has become a skeleton; the crows are pecking at my palms.

Even now, God has not come to help me; behold, this is the fate of all mortal beings. ||90||

The crows have searched my skeleton, and eaten all my flesh.

But please do not touch these eyes; I hope to see my Lord. ||91||

O crow, do not peck at my skeleton; if you have landed on it, fly away.

Do not eat the flesh from that skeleton, within which my Husband Lord abides. ||92||

One light, one voice, emerges from the deep

Slowly, across the universe it begins to creep

One light, one voice, announces its presence

From the King of kings, to the lowest of peasants

One light, one voice, the search begins

Scholars and Saints examine all things

One light, one voice, hidden in plain sight

In brightest of day, in darkest of night

One light, one voice, the search goes on

From Allah to Buddha to dear St. John

One light, one voice, we must remember

And submit our will, to it we surrender

One light, one voice, one light, one voice

to it we return, to it we depart.

But my eyes cannot see, my ears cannot hear

I long, I wait, for that beloved I hold dear

Majnun, they call me, a madman I’m called

Where is Layla my light, by her I’m enthralled

There is no other purpose, no other pursuit

My body, it trembles, from my hat to my boot

One light, one voice, has stolen my soul

Now I must live, part empty, part hole.

In this week’s reading of Bridal Symbolism in the Ginans, by A. Asani, we read about how some interpretations of Islam discuss the idea of the bridal soul with the goal of reuniting with the husband (God). In the above poem, written by Sheikh Fareed, a Sufi mystic living in India around the 13th century, this idea is expressed through the poet’s desire to keep his eyes as the means by which to see the husband. Fareed is writing that he is dying as everyone is, but that he still desires for his soul to merge with his Husband. This concept connects a number of esoteric ideas in Islam. There is the light verse in the Quran, and specifically one interpretation of it which focuses on the idea of transmitting light through the prophets and the ability of the individual to gain that spiritual knowledge through their own soul. It is this type of interpretation that Fareed seems to agree with.

This particular poem is actually written in the Sikh scripture, which is how I came across it. The idea of God as the husband is a theme so ingrained in Sikhism that the poem read during the marriage ceremony is actually about the marriage of the two souls of the bride and groom with God instead of each other, mirroring the idea in the reading that many times poems about mystical love written by Persian poets are interpreted as being about earthy love. To me it was interesting to see the influence of the Sufi mystical interpretation of the soul in Sikhism and the inclusion of Muslim poetry in the scripture.

To capture some of the ideas and themes present in Fareed’s poem and in general love poetry, I wrote a short poem describing one light (God) as permeating existence. The reference to God as light is found throughout the Quran, but one particularly relevant verse is the Light Verse in which Allah is referred to as literally “the light of the heavens” (roughly translated to English). The one voice referenced in the poem also refers to God. In Islamic belief, God passed down the Quran orally to the Prophet so the voice and, in particular, the reciting of the Quran when done correctly is considered divine. As a result, the light and the voice are two very important concepts in Islam. The contrast between scholars and saints is also an important one because there has been a constant dispute through much of Islamic history on the correct approach to finding God: the rules and studies of the scholars or the mystical experiences and devotion of the saints. But in this poem, the two are considered equal in their pursuit of God, even though the general theme of the poem revolves around more of the mystical concept of love that the saints would support. Some of the more subtle ideas are the universality of God in Islam, as in the reference to Buddha and St. John and the idea of the King of Kings and the lowest of peasants sharing the same experience in this context.

The character in the poem is obsessed with finding some light, but is unable to do so because he is blind to its existence and so is cursed to remain forever longing to reunite with his beloved. I also used a reference to Majnun and Layla, two characters from a classic love story who loved each other, but were separated and died tragic deaths longing for each other in order to relate further to some of the metaphors Arab and Persian poets would use in their poems. In many poems, the boundary between a human lover and God is blurred as in this case. While Layla is the name of a fictional human woman, in this case, she is compared to a light (“Where is Layla, my light”) and the light may also refer to God, thus capturing the blur between love in a worldly context and in a spiritual context.

Photographs of the Blue Mosque (left) and the Hagia Sophia (right).

Blue Mosque Ceiling

Penrose Crystal Pattern

My Drawing

This week, in our readings of The Mosque and the Topkapi Scroll, as well as the section discussions, we discussed, among other things, the influences underlying the art and architecture found in mosques. In particular, we were interested in finding out whether the inspiration was divine or if it was influenced by more worldly affairs such as political and cultural concerns. The first image here is of the roof in the Blue Mosque in Istanbul. The next image is of the Hagia Sophia, just a few hundred feet from the Blue Mosque. Some very common features can easily be seen in both images such as the heavy use of Arabesque to decorate the roofs and walls of both structures, the large dome-shaped ceilings, and arabic texts in interesting locations. Other common Mosque features, while not visible in the pictures, included in both are the Mihrab and the Minbar.

I actually had the pleasure of visiting both and actually took the first two photographs with my phone. I noticed some interesting differences between the two buildings. The Blue Mosque stressed symmetry to a much greater degree than the Hagia Sophia and had some extra features that would be useful in prayer such as an Ablution fountain in the courtyard whereas the Hagia Sophia had an extensive series of outer layers containing mainly the tombs of past Ottoman Emperors. Since it was converted from a Church, it also included a few Christian images on some walls which were interesting to see, especially given our reading of the article on Wahhabism in the Turkish Times. Their presence lends more credence to the idea of cultural significance in artistic renderings since such images would have been removed long ago under different interpretations of Islam.

In order to capture some of the ideas behind these designs, I decided to create a drawing of my own design. My drawing is of a circle containing a symmetric design. Architects and painters of most Mosques gave a great deal of consideration to symmetry and of giving emphasis to the idea of the unity of God. The circle amplifies the idea of oneness while the geometrical designs within create a theme of multiplicity. Some aspects of this design can be seen in the third image, which is a photograph of a portion of the ceiling in the Blue Mosque. In this image, a pattern is inscribed into a circle, as is the case with my drawing. At the very center of the circle, I have drawn a Sierpinski triangle, a geometrical shape composed of infinitely smaller equilateral triangles.

The idea of infinity is another way to connect with God. In the Blue Mosque image, calligraphy is inscribed into the circle so that if one were to begin reading from any part of the circle, it would involve infinite repetition since the circle never ends. Moreover, the way in which a Sierpinski triangle is constructed involves use of the “Chaos Game”, which is relevant to Islam because the world is filled with chaos, but it is the goal of the faithful to attach themselves to God and remove themselves of the chaotic distractions around them. Chaos Theory involves the construction of a geometric shape made from infinitely smaller parts of a larger version of itself so that no matter how small an area one considers, a shape exactly proportional to the larger shape can be constructed. In Islam, it is believed that God has revealed signs of himself in his creation and this is part of the belief behind the importance of mystical experience which allows you to understand these signs. The concept of “infinitely small” resonates with this idea for me since if something is infinitely small, one would not be able to see it even if it is right in front of them as is the case with God. In the triangle case, the smallest triangles are smaller than we can observe with any technology, but they still exist and a mystic might argue that having a sufficient connection with the world around you would allow you to sense their presence. In terms of geometry, infinity is important because many patterns approach specific ratios (in the area of specific parts of the pattern, in the ratios of the colors, etc.) if extended to infinity and the concept of convergence is another Islamic concept since the goal of each individual is to merge with God, which is quite similar to converging. One particular example of this concept was observed by a Harvard graduate student in a 15th century madrasa, or Islamic religious school, in Bukhara when he noticed a Penrose crystal pattern (as demonstrated in the third image) in the tiles on the architecture. In this particular pattern, the entire pattern is repeated inside of itself and if extended to infinity, the ratio of the two shapes approaches the golden ratio. Even though Islamic art may seem very mathematical at first glance, many subtle hints are dropped as to how the fundamental aspects of the art relate to God and I sought to capture these in my drawing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9M_LN2n1is

This week, we discussed the disputes that arose regarding authority in Islam after the death of the Prophet. We also read about it in Diversity in Islam: Communities of Interpretation, by Daftary. One particular historical incident of interest occurred at Ghadir al-Khumm, in March of the year 632 when the Prophet said “Man Kunto Mawla” meaning “He whose master I am, Ali is his master.” There are numerous interpretations of this phrase. Shia Muslims believe it to mean that the Prophet has passed authority to Ali, his son-in-law, and use it to justify their hierarchical structure in which the Imam is a family member of the Prophet and is the leader of all Muslims. Another interpretation focuses more on the esoteric meaning of such a phrase and states that what really happened was a passing of mystical truths from the prophet to Ali.

As a result of the importance of this phrase, there exists a tradition of singing these lines as seen in the first linked video. This is interesting because repetition of certain phrases is a theme found in many other Islamic interpretations for completely different reasons. For example, dhikr, found mainly in Sufi traditions, refers to a form of devotion in which the worshiper repeats one of God’s names or an aspect of his in rhythm. Another example is the repetition of Quranic verses, either for purposes of memorization, or for artistic purposes such as when a verse is repeated across the walls of a building. In calligraphy, the word Allah is often repeated in some pattern, as in our calligraphy assignment. Repetition highlights the importance of internalizing and constantly remembering the repeated phrase, whether it is a way of giving thanks to God by chanting his name or in this case to recall an important moment in history.

For me, what was particularly interesting is how similar this concept is to dhikr as found in Sikhism (skip to 8:50 in the second video for an example). The text sung in the second video is from the Scripture and is entirely about the Islamic concept of constantly remembering God and repeating his name. The instruments used are in fact entirely the same as those used in the first video highlighting the influence of regional cultures and traditions in different interpretations of Islam. The two main instruments used in both videos are the harmonium and the tabla which are both South Asian instruments. In other regions, different instruments are used to achieve the same ends.

Music has long been used to create an emotional response in the listener. In both of these cases, it is used to highlight the devotion that the worshipper has for God and to help the listener achieve the same feeling. Moreover, the concept extends across many different parts of the world, whether it is in the singing of Gospels in Churches, or in these examples. These songs are a tribute to the underlying themes of many of the world’s cultures that we can hopefully appreciate and use to find a common understanding among different religions.

As a response to these themes, I decided to create a short audio recording of myself repeating the name of God in Sikhism while playing Guitar. This captures the idea of Dhikr as mentioned above, but also makes use of a Western instrument as opposed to the ones you might traditionally find in a Sufi order or in Sikhism to highlight the multicultural dimensions of both religions. I used two different patterns of singing as a sample of the many different ways in which Dhikr could be performed by the practitioner. The chord progression used throughout the piece was G, E, C, D. These are four incredibly common chords and some of the first that one would learn when learning how to play the guitar, and they are also very widely used in American pop music. In fact, many of the most popular songs are formed entirely using combinations of these chords (or perhaps also including A as well). The two main reasons for choosing these particular chords are to, one, stress the underlying commonality between these two different religions which I felt would be best expressed using the most fundamental chords, and also to promote the idea that Islam is not as rigid a religion as people might think it is by using pop music chords. One could very well perform Dhikr, an act of devotion taken incredibly seriously by those who practice it, to the very same music that we enjoy in Western culture. Hopefully it gives one a sense of how Islam can be appreciated through many different perspectives.