Bülent Ersoy :: arabesk phenomenon

In the early 1990s, when I started studying Arabic, I tried looking for Arabic pop music, but apart from the odd raï compilation buried in the world music section of Oslo's record stores, there was nothing to be found. Apparently there weren't many Arab immigrants in Oslo back then, at least not buying or selling music. But it turned out there was a substitute: In a great little book called The Virgin Directory of World Music by Philip Sweeney, in the chapter on Turkey, I read the following:

Perhaps the most striking development in the 1980s has been the rise of the Arabesk. Arabic and Turkish music have long interacted with each other but latterly the Arabesk style has positively boomed, to the distaste of the Turkish cultural establishment who regard it as cheap, melodramatic and inferior. Arabesk is indeed much associated with the lower classes and with the Eastern Mediterranean areas, especially the city of Adana near the Syrian border. (...) A distinct air of camp attends Arabesk, which is of course most compatible with the melodramatic, self-indulgent, doomladen lyrics, rattling tambourine and derbouka rhythms, swirling Oriental violins and ornamental saz or 'oud lines.

The author went on to list a number of prominent arabesk artists - Zeki Müren, Orhan Gencebay, Ferdi Tayfur, Müslüm Gürses, İbrahim Tatlıses, Bergen, küçük Ceylan and Emrah - but the one who really caught my attention was Bülent Ersoy.

Bülent is a conservatory trained singer of Ottoman Turkish classical music (Türk Sanat Müziği) who at the age of 29 had gender reassignment surgery, and continued her career as a female artist after being an established male singer for years during the 1970s. In addition to releasing classical Turkish music, she became a huge arabesk star in the 1980s. Imagine Bryn Terfel having a sex change and launching a parallel career as a country singer emulating Loretta Lynn, Dolly Parton and Tammy Wynette - you get the drift.

Small Turkish grocery stores started popping up around Oslo's east side in the late 1980s, and did not only sell food in demand with Oslo's immigrant community - they also did a brisk trade in the latest Turkish tapes. Armed with a list of the artists named above, I went shopping.

My first introduction to Bülent was with her 1992 tape Ablan kurban olsun sana ("let me be your big sister"). The title track has all the features listed by Sweeney above, and the rest of the album is both state of the art early 1990s arabesk, and a great showcase of Bülent's amazing voice - not the least on the closing medley, which takes us through the arabesk of Yürüyorum, gliding into the amazing acapella lament Ham meyva, followed by the folk song İki gözüm, iki çeşme ("my eyes are two wells") and ending with the sassy arabesk of Yar diline.

I was instantly hooked, and since then I've been on the constant lookout for more Bülent material. As she has released some 40-odd albums since 1975, there is a lot to look for. The fifteen albums I have got hold of so far contain a number of pearls, from the house-influenced (!) Limon olma off Akıllı ol (1996), via what should have been Bülent's Eurovision entry Bir sen, bir de ben, title track of her 1991 album, which also contains the gorgeously sad Akşam olmadan gel, and the dramatic İtirazım var ("I object!") from Ak güvercin ("the white dove") released all the way back in 1983. And this is only the tip of the iceberg. Her best moment, in my opinion, must still be her classical song Aziz Istanbul ("beloved Istanbul"), the opening track of her 1995 Alaturka album. Pure quarter tone bliss!