Darwish poetry lives on in Marcel melody

Marcel Khalife mesmerised his audiences last week in Abu Dhabi and Dubai as his voice weaved Mahmoud Darwish's poetry into an irresistible melody.

Every word evoked an emotion, every verse had a feeling, and every stroke of the oud lured the audience to breathe an air filled with magic.

For two consecutive hours, Khalife and his team captured the highest of highs, and the lowest of lows as he made the audience smile, cheer and cry.

The UAE concert tour titled "A Salute to Mahmoud Darwish from Marcel Khalife" was a tribute to Darwish who was meant to be in a duo with Khalife that night - until fate decided otherwise.

And it was for Darwish that Khalife began his concert by singing Yateer el Hamam (Pigeons Fly) - the very song that he sombrely relayed in front of Darwish's casket before the last journey.

Now, like then, he sang it as if Darwish was seated right beside him on stage, as if was attentively listening to him from the casket.

Evident presence

Khalife's voice was soaked in tenderness similar to the tenderness of his hand as it was placed on Darwish's casket. Like then, it was a voice of unrestrained sorrow and a deep yearning for solace.

That night Darwish was as present as the air, as evident as the emotions, as alive as the sound of Khalife's oud. From Ummi (Mother), which Darwish wrote about his own mother, to Wa Ana Amshi (Walking Tall), Jawaz Safar (Passport), and Ya Bahariyyeh (O Sailors), Khalife stroked the audience's emotions as he did his oud.

The touch of his fingers bonding with the strings was like the hand of a mother caressing her child, like the speaking eyes of a lover, like the sweaty hands of a farmer nurturing his trees.

"Let's see if you still remember the words," Khalife said teasingly. And that memory did not let him down or fail in recalling the rhythms, the words, and the strength of the emotions attached to them.

These were songs that rushed in memories, of times of suffering, of the dream to fly in freedom, of belonging to nationhood, the hope for living the full circle of life, and of love. "The most beautiful thing in life is love, isn't it?" said Khalife. And it was these very songs that compelled some - old and young - repeatedly to wipe their tears away.

Those were the revolutionary songs in the not so revolutionary times. Inciting songs in the not so provocative of times. Rebellious songs that always carry with them a pinch of attractiveness for the rare revolutionary moments in life.

Khalife's music is yearning, probing and questioning of what is wrong with revolution - of the mind, of the spirit, of the ideas when time ran out of ideals. And revolution is how music is created: without rules or boundaries. It is one that rouses, incites and spins off a stir of emotions.

This was not Khalife live on stage. It was a trio bound forever - Khalife, Darwish, and the Oud - all together in conversation, in laughter, in joy, in tears and above all in love for tune and verse.

With every stroke, the words became more meaningful as the oud defined their destination, dimension and capacity in evoking feelings. So deep, intense, beautiful and profound.

The strokes were never in a hurry, always longing for loss and pain, companionship and love and desire. Khalife was simply born to play the oud as his entirety - body, mind and soul - was in conversation with it.

He also was not in a hurry, taking it stroke by stroke. The oud does not lie in the emotions it evokes. And if words were the roots, Khalife made sure that its leaves were lush green, ripe with olives and scented with oranges. Nothing was left untouched - not the audience, not the words, not even the oud.

In good company

There was a full house as Khalife was joined on stage by his two sons - Rami and Bachar - who are both musicians in their own right, Oumeima Khalil, the long time music companion of Khalife, as well as his wife and other musicians.

Together, they injected something new, fresh, and captivating as the combination brought to life every word, every verse, every rhythm and every lyric.

When the songs were mixed with a tangy flavour of jazz and a tasty modern beat, the music was just exquisite as the combination on stage was fiery, lively, captivating and emotionally charged. It was like a "planned impromptu" performance that was permitted to lead with the rush of emotions rather than the musical notes.

This was not a lost or forgotten paradise. It was a living one.