Voices of Joy

One of the best-kept secrets of the Bahá’í world must be the Voices of Bahá. Created almost as an afterthought to the Second Bahá’í World Congress in New York in 1992, it remains its most enduring legacy: the gorgeous choral music swept the assembled away, and the subsequent recording, played at thousands of gatherings, is perhaps the only music that has some claim to be well-known throughout the Bahá’í world community. But the “secret” part is that the Voices of Bahá embarked on annual tours that took them not only several times to the great concert halls of Europe, often with first-rate symphony orchestras (Madrid, Paris, Budapest, Warsaw, Prague), but to the former Soviet Union, the Caribbean, and the Far East. Sandwiched in amongst these were a Heartland of America tour and a Mississippi Riverboat tour, on which concerts were given where the riverboat docked.

The entire enterprise was intiated and shouldered by Nashville composer, arranger, and conductor Tom Price, who virtually single-handedly (Ohio’s Barbara Baumgartner became his right hand in the mid-90s) arranged all aspects of the tours, from travel and lodging to arranging all the music, auditioning singers over the telephone, producing practice recordings of all the parts, and the multitude of vagaries involved. The local Bahá’í communities would arrange the venues, advertise the events, and distribute the proceeds to charities. Two of his daughters were perpetually featured soloists.

Wherever they performed, not only did thousands attend the concerts, but local and national Bahá’í communities arranged a multitude of teaching events and initiatives in order to optimize the energy generated by the tour, for in many of these places the actual Bahá’í communities are rather small. For instance, in Thonon-les-Bains, France, near Geneva, there were only two believers (one of which was in the hospital), but an intense radio campaign and bus shelter advertising ensured a sellout in the Sports Palace in spite of a scathing newspaper article attempting to denigrate the Bahá’ís.

The singers represented as many as 22 countries, all who paid their own way. A few stalwarts, such as American Steve Brisley (pictured above) have participated in virtually every performance of the Voices of Bahá. After preparing individually for weeks via printed scores and practice recordings, 2-3 days of intense rehearsal would be all before the performances began. The programme consisted of music in styles ranging from ethnic folk to classical to gospel to several composed by Price himself, in a variety of languages, and in every locality some attempt was made to sing in the local tongue. One song, in particular, “O God My God,” has been sung in at least a score of languages from Slovak to Catalan to Hungarian, and local debates on pronunciation were often very lively indeed.

Highlights are more than can be counted, and surely someone will write a book to accompany the various video and audio archives. Here I’ll just mention a very few. While recording in Moscow, a revolution broke out, and everyone was confined to their hotel while the government buildings were under siege. Yet when the curfew was lifted, a full house attended a concert without any advertising.

In 2001 Tom Price decided it was time raise the international profile of the choir, and so in addition to concerts in France, Slovakia, Spain, and Germany, the choir was entered into several categories in a prestigious international choral competition in Wernigerode, Germany. 186 singers rehearsed Mendelssohn and Brahms in snatches between concerts, after meals, and on long bus rides, and switched from performance mode to Olympic-type competition, from unity to striving for excellence. Far from embarrassing themselves, they earned silver or gold standards in all categories entered, and were specially invited to sing for the throngs of tourists in the city square at the close of the competition. 2003 saw a return engagement.

In 2002, Price arranged a New York City Arts Festival to mark the 10th anniversary of the Second Bahá’í World Congress that started it all. As well as a slate of daily theatre, dance, visual, and mixed-media presentations around Manhattan, three grand concerts were given: a Persian concert shown via satellite in Iran, a full gospel concert, and a Carnegie Hall performance by the largest edition of the Voices of Bahá ever assembled: 550 voices and a full symphony orchestra.

Perhaps the most gruelling day for the Voices of Bahá was in Caracas, Venezuela in July 2005. The day began with a morning recording session of a full concert programme at the national television studio, followed by a live performance in front of television cameras of the same programme in the early afternoon. Another 6 hours was spent re-recording bits and pieces, and after the outer limits of exhaustion, they lip-synched the entire show again to their own recording for the benefit of the cameras. This was all for a documentary film to be used throughout Latin America. And these were largely amateurs of all ages with little experience of the rigours of touring.

On the same tour, the plane set out from Miami to the Dominican Republic and had to fly around Hurricane Dennis. After stops in Puerto Rico, Venezuela, and Trinidad, they arrived in Jamaica just two days after a hurricane had hit there, so they became media darlings of the Tourist bureau. Not two weeks later Hurricane Katrina hit.

An element of gospel music has been a part of the Voices of Bahá from its inception. Van Gilmer (pictured above, with Rachael Price) pioneered in bringing gospel music into a Bahá’í context with his groups and many popular compositions, and in 2004 he led a full gospel tour to Britain and Western Europe in lieu of the regular Voices of Bahá tour. In 2007 and 2008 the large choral tradition has been continued by a festival at the Bahá’í House of Worship in Wilmette, Illinois, where Gilmer serves as Music Director.


For these events and tours, singers save up all year, endure pickpockets, laryngitis and other ailments, and local food; they often witness crushing poverty, yet travel and work as one big happy family, running on adrenalin physical and spiritual, and nowhere where they’d rather be than spreading this message for the healing of the world. Furthermore, this “parent choir” has spawned local chapters around the globe, especially in Canada and the United States, enriching celebrations and developing a Bahá’í artistic life.

The Fifth Buddha

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This is the fourth in a series about organizations that reflect some of the new values and teachings that have come into the world in this age that has witnessed the dawning of the Bahá’í Faith.

The Maitreya Project at Kushinagar, Uttar Pradesh in northern India is erecting a 152m bronze statue of the Buddha. Buddhists await the advent of “Maitreya-Amitabhá.” Even though the Buddha’s texts were revealed in the Pali language, “Maitreya” is from the Sanskrit “maitri” meaning “universal loving-kindness,” while “-abhá” is a form of “Bahá” (Glory) in Arabic. Bahá’u’lláh claimed to be that Universal Manifestation, the Promised One of all ages, the fulfillment of all millennial prophecies.

The physical outlay of the Maitreya Project has some striking simlilarities to Bahá’í Houses of Worship, which are to be surrounded by a number of other facilities, including universities, hospitals, and even drug dispensaries. (The present stage of the Houses of Worship has yet to realize these adjuncts.) According to the Maitreya Project website http://www.maitreya-statue.org/, there are plans for “temples, exhibition halls, a museum, library, audio-visual theatre and hospitality services. All will be set in beautifully landscaped parks with meditation pavilions, beautiful water fountains and tranquil pools. The buildings and grounds of the Project will contain a remarkable and inspiring collection of sacred art.” (Projected cost: $250 million.) Bahá’í Houses of Worship are all surrounded by gardens and fountains (pictured above is the Lotus Temple, near New Delhi). The bronze statue is designed to stand for at least 1,000 years. The Bahá’í structures on Mount Carmel were specifically designed and built with Mediterranean marble to also last a millennium.

There are glaring differences, of course. Building the Maitreya statue is intended to create, economic stability, as well as spiritual and social renewal, in and around the Project site, whereas the Bahá’í Houses of Worship are part of global plans and visions, and there will never be any admission fees or donations accepted. And though the Buddha is revered by the Bahá’ís, there are no representational images, nor will there ever be. Interestingly, in the early days of Buddhism, there were no images of the Buddha, only symbols or ciphers. The idea entered the East via the Greek statues brought by Alexander the Great’s armies. Since by then no one knew what the Buddha had looked like, He was portrayed as an Adonis-like young man sitting in the lotus position. As time went on, the form of the Buddha took on various cultural ideals in different places.

As a Bahá’í, I ask myself, will they come to recognize Bahá’u’lláh as that “Fifth Buddha,” the Maitreya-Amitabha, or wait another thousand years?

This 'n' That

For its viewers Seinfeld coined meanings for “this” and “that,” humourous euphemisms meaning “Platonic friendship” and “Sex,” respectively. Absolutely everything turns my diseased mind into spiritual matters, and I’m going to drag you along with me. First to Hinduism:

The essence of Vedanta and the pinnacle of Hindu insight is enshrined in the four “Mahavakyas,” (Great Sayings), the first of which is Tat Tvam Asi, (“That Thou Art”).

Huh? “That Thou Art”? That’s a great saying? Reefer madness?

Some explanation is obviously needed. There’s a prayer (or affirmation) in the Isavasyopanishad that in the original Sanskrit runs:

Om Purnamadah Purnamidam
Purnat Purnamudacyate
Purnasya Purnamadaye
Purnamevavasisyate
Om Shanti Shanti Shanti

One clumsy English rendition minus the “Om Peace” (italics mine):

That is whole; this is whole;
From that whole this whole came;
From that whole, this whole removed,
What remains is whole.

Well that cleared it up, didn’t it? The intended meaning is thus: “That” is the spiritual realm, the object of our search, invisible. “This” is creation, the physical, phenomenal world. So in a nutshell the teaching implied in the above verse is creation emanates from spirit and is ultimately a projection, a superimposition, real enough on its own level, but possessing no substantial reality of its own, being totally dependent upon spirit for its creation, and sustenance, and the ever-present possibility of its dissolution. (Notice I didn’t use the words “this” and “that” in cette paragraph, which wasn’t easy.)

The claim of Bahá’u’lláh is of being the Promised One of All Ages, the fulfillment of the prophecies of ALL past Dispensations and traditions. And whereas the Buddha, Zoroaster, the Great Spirit, and men of India meditating in caves get passing mention, the overwhelming context in which the Bahá’í Revelation is placed is firmly in the Adamic-Abrahmic-Judeo-Christian-Islamic line – in other words, the traditions of the Middle East. So I’m particularly tickled to find what I deem direct connections with teachings that emanated from elsewhere.

A significant portion of the Báb’s output is in the form of Commentary which has been exalted to the rank of Revelation (please just take my word for it here). In the Commentary on the Surih of the Cow II, He expounds on a tradition of the Imám Ridá, where “that” and “this” are referred to as “there” and “here”:

Elevate the alphabetical letters of that divine verse unto the sublime station of the manifestation of their heart . . . Verily that ascent is the spirit of the Elixir of true knowledge, so that the servant may advance all that is motionless unto the lofty station of vibrant motion, and make manifest the Causes of his existence within the stage of the effect, and reveal the fruit of the Final Cause in the rank and station of the receptive phenomena. That is the true meaning of the words of Imám Ridá, peace by upon Him, that verily those endued with understanding cannot know that which is there, except through that which is here. (provisional translation by N. Saiedi)

Obviously there are many concepts in that short quote; the Báb’s writing is extremely dense and dripping with meaning just as His own dream of the blood of the Imám Husayn. But I hope I made the connection clear.

If not, I apologize and leave you with another Jerry Seinfeld quote: “There is no such thing as ‘fun for the whole family.’”

Unforgettable

It is fitting that as the last of the Hands of the Cause of God passed away last year, that tributes to these 50 individuals that were appointed by the Central Figures of the Bahá’í Faith to “diffuse the Divine Fragrances, to edify the souls of men, to promote learning, to improve the character of all men and to be, at all times and under all conditions, sanctified and detached from earthly things,” should begin to appear in print. Such is the book The Unforgettable Hands of the Cause by Ohio-born Michael Woodward, just published by the Bahá’í Publishing Trust of India.

It consists almost entirely of first-hand reminiscences and anecdotes of the author’s interactions with 14 of the Hands while living in Hawaii, pioneering in Africa and Taiwan, and on trips to Conferences and the Holy Land. Therefore it is an intimate account, almost too intimate at times, as he details personal the involvement with his family’s life and tribulations of Abu’l-Qásim Faizi (pictured above) and Enoch Olinga. In the early part of the book, Woodward falls into the trap like many before him, of describing minute events with overenthusiasm, making the stories sound lame. The difficulty, of course, is that the events themselves are outwardly unremarkable: a word here, a gesture there, but suffused with spiritual potency and immediacy that makes an impression lasting a lifetime, and these things take no small literary skill to articulate.

However, when he moves on to document conferences and the lessons and talks given by the Hands at these momentous gatherings, we get a good sense of how they taught the friends, encouraged, exhorted and admonished them with illustrative stories, explanations of the Writings and the guidance from the World Centre. We see figures Bahá’ís have come to know so well: Dr. Muhajer, Bill Sears, Ruhiyyih Khanum, Collis Featherstone, and others in the full flower of their glory in accomplishing the Herculean tasks given to them.

While Woodward’s writing is not first-rate, one thing he accomplishes very well is the sense of history, especially the murmur of anguish felt by the Bahá’í community around the world as the number of the Hands -- 27 in 1957 at the passing of the Guardian, inexorably dwindled down to only three well before the turn of the Millenium, and so how every moment with these sublime mentors was so precious.

Surely many more volumes are in the offing, especially as we have full biographies of only a smattering – I almost wrote “handful” – of these seminal figures, without whom it would be impossible to envision the Bahá’í Faith as it has come to exist, flourish, and grow to this day.

Sirens in Daidanaw

It is now exactly a month since Cyclone Nargis hit the Irrawaddy River Delta, killing over 200,000 and leaving countless others destitute in Myanmar (Burma). And so far very little aid has been getting through, since the government in adamant in controlling who and what enters the country and how. Its concern has been its own clinging to power rather than the welfare of its peoples, as it received a scare only a few months ago with the worldwide attention received by the rebellion of Buddhist monks.

For the Bahá’ís in the delta town of Daidanaw, it’s the second time that carnage has been visited upon them almost incidentally as part of a larger catastrophe. The first was in 1945, when the town was attacked for ethnic cleansing, and 11 Bahá’ís were killed and their homes, a school, and the Bahá’í Centre razed to the ground. Among the casualties was Mustafáy-i-Rúmí (pictured above), posthumously named a Hand of the Cause of God, a very high honour and designation bestowed upon only 50 individuals, all who have now passed on, and no others will ever be so named again. Rúmí was a religious scholar from ‘Iráq who spoke at least seven languages, engaged in the rice trade in India, and became a Bahá’í in Calcutta. He travelled all over Southeast Asia teaching the Faith and converted all 800 inhabitants of Daidanaw, the first all- Bahá’í village outside of Irán. He made his home there and among the many services he performed was to spearhead the creation of a marble sarcophagus which he not only helped pay for but was one of the people who transported it to the Holy Land. The remains of The Báb (Prophet-Herald of the Bahá’í Faith), hidden and moved about to about two dozen different locations since His martyrdom by firing squad in Tabríz, Persia in 1850, were finally interred in this sarcophagus in a shrine on Mount Carmel, its golden dome the most recognizable Bahá’í building on earth.

The Bahá’í Centre in Daidanaw was rebuilt. At the present time it is a refuge for abut 800 families (Bahá’í and non) who are in desperate need of the necessities of survival, which are still only trickling in.

Providentially, the nine members of the National Spiritual Assembly of Myanmar were in consultative meetings in Thailand when the cyclone hit and so were spared. An irony that is surely not lost on Bahá’ís of Iránian background is that the name chosen for this cyclone – Nargis -- is identical to that of the most favourite of Iránian Bahá’í sirens.