Sdiq Aziz only wants to make beautiful music. But that is hard, given where he is from.
He is a cellist, from Iraq.
NANCEE E. LEWIS / Union-Tribune
Cellist Sdiq Aziz, 29, practiced a piece with other musicians at La Mesa First United Methodist Church. Aziz, a former member of the Iraqi National Symphony Orchestra, visited San Diego through an exchange program sponsored by the U.S. State Department.
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Aziz, a former member of the Iraqi National Symphony Orchestra, has been visiting San Diego as part of a cultural exchange program sponsored by the U.S. State Department.
For almost a month, his life has been about music – sound and movement, and theory and practice, and style and harmony. It has been about Brahms, not bombs.
The cello he's playing is shiny and beautiful and he carries it almost everywhere he goes, despite its bulk. But it has been loaned to him by a patron and he must return it when he leaves for Iraq.
He has a cello at home. But it is not like this one.
“I have a very bad cello,” Aziz said, smiling. But the smile disappeared quickly. It was a sad, little joke and he knew it.
The 29-year-old had to give up his position with the Iraqi symphony in December 2003 because the orchestra is based in Baghdad, where the insurgency has been fierce. A car bomb once went off near the hotel Aziz was staying.
Many of the orchestra's 60-plus member have left, he said. He's unsure if the orchestra is even still playing.
“It's too dangerous,” Aziz said.
After he left Baghdad, he returned to the safety of his home up north, away from the fighting, in the Kurdish town of Rania, where he lives with his wife. He teaches music at a local school.
Life there is fine, for now, he said. He believes the north will make it through the war without the bloodshed in other parts of Iraq. The Kurdish portion of Iraq is unified, unlike other sections of the nation where Shiite and Sunni factions are at odds.
He worries about Baghdad, though.
It is no longer a place to play music, he said. It is a place of bombs and death and possible civil war.
In San Diego, Aziz has met with local Kurds who are curious about what life is like back in Iraq since the war. They also talk about music, about their favorite Kurdish folk songs.
Music is a big part of the culture, Aziz said. It brings escape as well as joy, because it makes everything else disappear.
“When I play, I have nothing to be aware of,” he said. “I just play.”
Talk about a cultural exchange. On stage stood Frank Sinatra Jr., the son of Old Blue Eyes. He was belting out the standard, “The Way You Look Tonight,” while rehearsing with the San Diego Symphony Orchestra for some August concerts.
Aziz was there, listening. It was part of his experience in San Diego, which began Aug. 11 and ended yesterday.
The symphony took him under its wing and gave him cello lessons. He also got to play with local orchestras, including the Grossmont Symphony Orchestra.
Sinatra?
Aziz knew about the legend from watching American movies.
The song?
He'd never heard of it.
After Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein was toppled, Aziz began getting satellite TV. He has access to a French TV music channel, so he knows about Britney Spears, 50 Cent and other current pop stars.
But the Rolling Stones, Miles Davis, Nirvana, Dean Martin, Ray Charles, Hank Williams, Aretha Franklin, the Supremes?
Nope.
How about John Lennon, who wrote “Give Peace a Chance” and “All You Need Is Love”?
Nope.
He's familiar with classical composers, of course. Beethoven and Brahms and Mozart and Schubert.
But he's never seen a marching band or even heard of such a concept. So a trip to San Diego State University was arranged, where he saw one in person.
Now, on this day, he was listening to Sinatra Jr., and the big orchestra, booming away.
He tapped his foot. He smiled.
A few moments earlier, Edward B. “Ward” Gill, the symphony's executive director, had talked of the importance of Aziz's trip.
Gill couldn't help but sprinkle in a few cliches, talking of music's importance, of its ability to bring harmony and peace . . .
One may have thought: Oh, come on.
But there was Aziz, tapping his foot.
Smiling.
At peace.
Like all wars, this one has done terrible, terrible things.
But in a strange way it has also been a heady time for a young man who has hardly had the upbringing that serious musicians usually enjoy.
Before the U.S. invasion, he had never been on a jet, or even left Iraq. Yet in December 2003 he played with the Iraqi National Symphony Orchestra at the John F. Kennedy Center for Performing Arts in Washington, D.C.
He also made another trip to the United States – to San Francisco and Los Angeles – to learn more about music and American culture and to play traditional Kurdish music.
Aziz's passion for music began when he took a music appreciation class at a fine arts school in the Kurdish city of Sulaimaniya. He knew immediately that he wanted to be a musician, although no one in his family has a musical background. One brother is a barber, the other a police officer. His parents did not play an instrument.
He was 18 when he began playing the cello. A violin teacher taught him because there were no cello teachers at his school. There weren't even any music books for the instrument.
He learned much of what he knows – including how to hold his fingers properly – from watching a video cassette of a Greek orchestra.
He became a member of the Sulaimaniya String Orchestra and played often. After the U.S. invasion, he learned that the Iraqi National Symphony Orchestra was looking for help. He was asked to play.
For Aziz, it meant moving to Baghdad. But the opportunity was too wonderful to pass up. He played music with Iraq's best.
Until the bombs came.
The State Department sponsored Aziz's trip with help from several local organizations, including Point Loma Nazarene University, where Aziz has been staying.
The State Department hopes such cultural exchanges will help Iraq in its struggle to become a democratic state. The idea is that Iraqis, such as Aziz, will return home and share what they've learned with their fellow citizens.
Critics, though, have questioned such efforts. Common Dreams, a Web site devoted to “progressive” views, called the Washington performance of the Iraqi orchestra “the sweet sound of propaganda.” Such programs try to make U.S. citizens feel good about the effort in Iraq, critics say, even though the war, now more than three years old, has yet to produce a stable, safe society.
Aziz isn't interested in this debate. To him, the purpose of his trip is clear: It's about music.
Nobody in the local music community talks politics with him. They just talk music.
On a recent day, as he rehearsed with the San Diego State University Symphony Orchestra, he looked very much like one of the students in his jeans and tennis shoes.
Music swept the room, and he got lost in it.
He looked – at peace.
There is a sad irony to Aziz's trip. Although it has made him a better cellist, he may have to quit his job as a music teacher when he returns home. It simply doesn't pay enough.
Instead, he'll probably go to work in his brother's barber shop.
“I will be sad, but that is life,” he said.
Michael Stetz: (619) 293-1720; michael.stetz@uniontrib.com
