a day ago
Kirkuk's master: Ali Mardan's timeless echo
Shafaq News
In the heart of old Kirkuk, where Sufi chants once rose with the dawn, the voice of Ali Mardan still echoes—the same sound that once shaped the vision of a blind boy turned master of Iraq's most intricate musical tradition.
Four decades after his death, Mardan is not merely remembered; he is relived—through notes, verses, and the shared heritage of a city that once thrived on plurality.
A Child of Kirkuk's Heart
Born in 1904 in the spiritual heart of Kirkuk—the Talabani Tekyeh—Mardan's first exposure to music came not through conservatories but through the sacred rituals of zikr and Quranic recitation. When he was rebuked by an uncle for singing maqams at home, he fled in tears to the Sufi lodge. The sheikh there, recognizing the child's rare gift, told the family: 'This boy has a voice that will never be repeated. Let him learn.'
From that moment on, Mardan immersed himself in the deep waters of Kurdish, Turkmen, and Arabic maqams. He studied under teachers of diverse backgrounds: Sunni mullahs, Persian masters, and Arab scholars.
A Voice of Many Tongues
Mardan's mastery of maqam defied boundaries. Over his 35-year career, he recorded more than 1,000 songs and 76 Kurdish maqams, blending elements from Arab, Persian, Turkmen, and Kurdish traditions—not as mimicry, but as synthesis.
This was especially vital in a city like Kirkuk, where linguistic and cultural diversity has long been a defining feature. Mardan's musical choices reflected that multicultural fabric: he sang classical Kurdish poetry, played Persian rhythms, and interpreted Arabic maqams on instruments like the oud, kamancheh, and tanbur.
In the 1960s, his voice crossed borders—recorded not just in Baghdad, but in Tehran, Kermanshah, Beirut, Amman, and Damascus. He became the first Kurdish artist to be broadcast widely across Arab radio stations, subtly introducing Kurdish maqam to a regional audience often unfamiliar with its intricacies.
Bridge Across Cultures
Mardan's maqams carried historical memory, linguistic pride, and emotional depth. His musical teaching, especially to students at the Model Institute for the Blind in Baghdad, helped institutionalize this memory for future generations. His son Abdel Qader told Shafaq News, 'My father wasn't just a maqam singer. He was a living school. I still keep his recordings on old records.'
After his death in 1981, his body was returned to Kirkuk, where he was buried near the same Sufi tekyeh that gave him sanctuary as a child. Even in death, he remained close to his origins.
In 2020, a memorial statue was unveiled in his honor in Kirkuk, drawing artists from across ethnic lines. The Ali Mardan Center for Maqam Studies now offers instruction to students in Arabic, Kurdish, and Turkmen musical forms, serving as both a music school and a cultural bridge. Annual festivals continue to commemorate his art, drawing readers, singers, and scholars from around the region.
As one local musician remarked during a recent commemoration: 'Ali Mardan reminds us that Kurdish identity does not close doors. It opens them to every tradition it can carry with dignity.'
Mardan's legacy is a reminder of what is still possible when communities choose to document, teach, and share—not only to preserve culture but to revive the very idea of coexistence.
