Diabolic Digest
Remembering
the Sultan of Style
By Khaled Diab
December 2004
Although you may never have heard of this dandy
9th Century Arab, his genius touches the most private and intimate moments of all
our lives – modern etiquette would be positively vulgar without his tasteful
influence.
To be honest, I only had a vague recollection
of the name until I attended an experimental play in Brussels co-written by the
well-known Belgian writer on the Middle East Lucas Catherine. Entitled The
Cook of Cordoba, the play was about multiculturalism in Belgium.
It featured a native Belgian, a Jewish Belgian
and a Moroccan Belgian, all of whom were adorned in little more than a fig
leaf. The three characters gave their own cultural perspective on Ziryab in the
East Flemish dialect, Yiddish and Moroccan Arabic (subtitles provided on a
screen in front of them).
The escapades of this eccentric tickled my
curiosity and I have since become quite well informed about his exceptional
life. Ziryab (blackbird) was his stage name and he earned it to describe his
dramatic appearance. Born Abul Hassan Ali Ibn Nafie in modern-day Iraq in
789AD, he joined the court of the legendary Haroun al-Rashid (also of 1,001
Arabian Nights’ fame) where he was the student of a gifted musician.
The Baghdad in which he flourished no longer
exists as it has been sacked in the intervening years: first by the Mongols –
under the leadership of the Great Khan Ogodei – in the 13th century,
then twice by the Americans (in the late 20th and early 21st
century). But, at the time, the city was perhaps the world’s greatest centre of
science, learning and culture.
Ziryab committed the big sin of excelling his
teacher and so he fled Baghdad for the rising star of its cultural and
scientific rival, Cordoba in Andalusia, where he joined the court of the
Umayyad Prince of Cordoba Abdel-Rahman II – whose ancestors had fled Damascus
for Iberia, after the Abbasids had successfully defeated them and shifted the capital
of the caliphate to Baghdad.
When Ziryab arrived in Cordoba, it was the
capital of a flourishing and unified Andalusian kingdom set up by the fleeing
Umayyads, descendants of the powerful and fearsome Quraish tribe of Arabia.
This was one of the highest peaks of Islamic political influence in Iberia. Not
long after, in the 11th century, the political edifice crumbled into
petty factions known as tawaif in Arabic, each of which set up its own
city state.
Islamic Cordoba was a beautiful and manicured
metropolis of imposing public buildings, although it still lacked its most
famous landmark, the 10th century Great Mosque (the Mezquita, as it
is known today). It boasted about 1,000 mosques, 600 public baths, several
hundred public schools and a university, not to mention the grand aqueducts in
the surrounding countryside that fed the complex irrigation system introduced
to the area by the Arabs.
It was a city in which sound – including
flowing water – and space blended to give an exquisite sense of tranquillity.
Tranquil gardens and patios still dot the pleasant, if now more provincial,
city. Walking through the streets of the old town during the stillness of the
siesta, with the rich local music flowing aromatically out of the odd shop that
had remained open, is an experience my girlfriend (now my wife) and I found
atmospheric.
The Mezquita retains some of its former glory,
with its elegant trademark arches, and its use of geometry and space to create
a sense of simple majesty that is at once austere and rich. But the effect, we
found, was spoilt somewhat by the spontaneous appearance of a cathedral right
in the centre of this massive former mosque.
The church looked like it had clambered out of
the stomach of the Earth or fallen, like a meteorite, from the sky. It did not
seem like it had been placed here out of design – which, of course, it had
been, shortly after the city was taken by the Reconquista. Alfonso X –
not a Spike Lee remake of Happy Days – oversaw the monstrous building project.
In less puritanical times, King Charles I of Spain would complain, in 1526, to
his priests: “You have built what can be seen anywhere and destroyed what is
unique.”
In between being an accomplished singer and
musician – Ziryab is reputed to have memorised a repertoire of more than 10,000
songs (now who needs an IPod?) with which he could captivate the caliph’s court
– he added a fifth string to the Arab oud, creating the lute that would,
through the Spanish, spread across Europe.
He also rearranged musical theory, setting free
the metrical and rhythmical parameters and creating new ways of expression
(known as mwashah, zajal, and nawbah).
The modern university with its college system was
created by the Arabs. Ziryab established the world’s first known conservatory
where aspiring young musicians learnt harmony and composition and were
encouraged to develop musical theory further.
In fact, much of Europe’s folk music tradition
– its conventions and instruments – can be traced right back to the medieval
Arabs of Andalusia. Morris Dancing, for instance, is derived from the word
Moor.
He is also reputed to have brought chess and
polo to Europe.
But one thing above all else constitutes
Ziryab’s gravest legacy to prosperity. Although this has brought a measure of
glamour and colour to untold generations in the intervening years, over the
centuries it has opened the door to massive abuses that have, today, resulted in
an enormous underclass leading near-slavish existences.
“Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable
that we have to alter it every six months,” Oscar Wilde, that Ziryab-like
Englishman, once retorted. But who, Mr Wilde, was it that first came up with the
revolutionary idea of seasonally shedding our clothes?
Ziryab’s earth-shattering innovation was to
submit fashion to the cycle of the seasons. This trendsetter came up with the
then outlandish idea that people should wear different styles – and not just
more layers or an overcoat – in summer and in winter. He even invented
in-between seasons.
However, the historical record is silent on
whether the Sultan of Style profited from his brainwave by creating the world’s
first fashion house. Whether trendy Moorish Cordoba sported catwalks and
supermodels will also have to remain an issue of contention – but Kordoba’s
Koolest Kats are said to have mimicked his hairstyles. His influence led to the
establishment of a medieval fashion industry in and around the Andalusian
capital.
Over the ensuing 1,200 years, the idea spread
like wildfire and we now have styles for the four possible seasons. Nothing can
match the modern world for its pace of lifestyle change, but the whimsical
nature of fads and the fashion slaves that follow them are nothing peculiarly
modern.
Ziryab was perhaps history’s first pop idol and
streets and restaurants in many Arab countries still bear his name. Thanks to
his influence, the world has become so fashion-conscious that some top fashion
houses have started their own baby lines, top stars – such as Nicole Kidman and
Beyoncé (read more)
– get paid millions for a day’s work endorsing accessories, and anorexia is
rife. But being the cultural icon that he was, Ziryab may have decided that, if
he was going to sin, it had to be a damned original sin!
Putting courses on the menu
When people think of haute cuisine, their minds
tend to go all Français. French may be the lingua franca for food – with its
entrées, appetizers, aperitifs, desserts, etc. – and the French, despite the
minimalism of nouvelle cuisine, have given us much to savour. However, the
modern dining experience was forged in Arabic.
There was a time when dining was not the
genteel affair we know today. Eating was a freestyle event, even at the highest
and most prestigious levels. Before Ziryab came along, people ate savoury with
sweet, fruit with meat, all in one big heap. Abundance, and not order, was the
key to successful court banquets. But our man revolutionised all that.
Perhaps his highly refined sensibilities were
offended by what he saw as a feeding frenzy, or may be he thought that
different tastes should be savoured individually. Whatever the reason, our gastronome
extraordinaire set about to tame his peers’ eating habits by inventing the
multi-course meal.
The Arabs introduced many exotic forms of food
in Europe, including coffee, tea, various spices, the aubergine, the artichoke,
bananas, oranges, and various other fruit and veg. Ziryab added asparagus to
the pantheon.
To make the dining experience that much more
exquisite, he also invented the drinking glass (fashioned out of glass and crystal).
No simple earthenware or copper vessel would suffice, and gold may have been
the age-old material of choice for the moneyed elite but its originality had
somewhat lost its glitter.
And, to round off the complete fashion
experience, this all-round man also found time to introduce the toothbrush and
deodorant, paving the way for the multibillion-euro toiletries industry.
For all his immortal contributions to culture
and fashion, this veritable Sultan of Style should be canonised as the patron
saint of chic and his statue erected in the world’s fashion capitals: Milan,
Paris, New York, Tokyo, Antwerp. And, to show their eternal gratitude for the
favour he bestowed upon them, Gucci, Chanel, Armani, Boss should declare his
birthday an official holiday.
ã2004 K. Diab. Unless otherwise stated, all the content on this website
is the copyright of Khaled Diab.