philosufi

Sukoon for Your Cocoon: Sakina Design

Late last year, at the second American Muslim Consumer Conference, Miles Young, CEO of Ogilvy and Mather (which recently launched Ogilvy Noor, the world’s first full-service Islamic Branding consultancy), told the audience:

Islam is not strongly enough associated, in this country, with design: with graphic design, with the arts, with fashion or creative design. And in this sense it differs from the minority Muslim communities in Europe and certainly from the majority Muslim communities. And let me tell you, art and design diffuse fear. They normalize, they soften...

We couldn’t agree more. So I want to tell you about an American company that is working to correct this tendency, taking a fresh approach to design and decor for the Muslim market.

 Sakina Design  is a California-based family-owned company producing stylish and appealing decor and gifts for Muslims with a modern, North American sensibility. Sakina Design’s website describes their approach to business:

The approach that guides Sakina Design is summarized by the word ihsan. Ihsan is the Islamic concept of perfection and excellence. The Qur'an teaches that inner faith should be reflected in deeds and actions, and that social responsibility is another manifestation of this faith.

Therefore, our approach centers on providing customers with excellent products that adhere to Islamic values and principles. We ensure that the materials that go into our products are top quality, and we make every effort to minimize harm to the environment. We use recycled and recyclable materials, and give back to the community by donating a portion of our sales to charity. Please see our Sakina Green page for additional information about our commitment to the environment.

I somehow stumbled across the company last summer, while I was in the throes of preparing for a number of family weddings, including Neman’s sister’s. As soon as I saw Sakina’s pieces of wall art, inspired by classical Islamic art and calligraphy, I knew they would make a perfect wedding gift for his sister and her husband-to-be. His sister has travelled through Turkey and Spain, among many other places, and I knew she loves Turkish art—she was incorporating Turkish tile imagery into her wedding décor—and loved the Alhambra. So I ordered the Iznik  and Alhambra wall decor pieces immediately. Jontie of Sakina Design was incredibly helpful. The Alhambra piece was not in stock at the time I wanted it—Jontie said it’s been their most popular pattern—but a production run was about to take place, and he asked his producer make some Alhambra pieces first. While I was at it, I ordered one of each of the greeting cards, too.

Everything arrived very quickly and in perfect condition—I had been worried that the pieces, which are glass, could arrive broken. But everything was packed perfectly and there were no problems. Shipping was incredibly cheap—$10  USD if I recall correctly—but I should warn other Canadian customers: the duty and taxes were somewhat gobsmacking. So you will want to budget for our government’s pound of flesh. But it was worth it. Everything was absolutely beautiful—I wanted to keep the gifts for ourselves! Every piece was attractive, well-made, and good quality. The wall art works in both traditional and contemporary interiors. The square shape and manageable size of the wall art pieces contributes to their versatility in interiors (see Sakina Design's Decorating Tips page for several photos of how they can be combined and displayed).

I was glad I’d ordered some of the greeting cards; they are even finer than they look on the website.  You may not be able to tell from some of the images, but the greeting card designs are not printed: they’re laser-cut overlays on coloured paper. They come with several inserts for the covers, both pre-printed (in English on one side and Arabic on the other), as well as some blank ones so you can inscribe your own greeting or salutation. And Jontie had generously included several Sakina bookmarks, which are as nicely made as everything else, and are currently gracing various books in progress.

Recently, Sakina Design has partnered with master calligrapher Haji Noor Deen. He has created creating a stunning fusion of Arabic and Chinese calligraphy for a new Sakina Design piece with the theme of tranquility. Check it out: it reads both vertically (in Chinese) and horizontally (in Arabic).

If you are searching for unique and tasteful items to give as gifts or keep for yourself,  I strongly recommend Sakina Design’s products. I am looking forward to ordering some wall art for our own home when we have the funds (maybe as a graduation gift to myself). In the meantime, I will enjoy seeing it at my sister-in-law’s place, and I look forward to each new item from this company.

• Sakina Design's Facebook page

 Do you know a company making stylish products for the Muslim market? Drop us a line!

 
This article was unsolicited and Philosufi has not received any consideration for it.

Every Day is Ashura: Lamentations and Lacerations

As we mentioned recently on our Facebook page, we have been going through a difficult time. From just before Eid-ul-Adha (one month ag0) until now (Ashura), there have been something like nine deaths (it's so many I'm losing track) in Neman's extended family, including his aunt and uncle who were the matriarch and patriarch of the clan (and had been married for 66 years). Most of those who have died have been ill and/or quite elderly, but this string of tragedy included the utterly shocking news that Neman's teenage cousin in Germany suddenly collapsed and died on her way into school one morning. No one knows why. Her grandmother died later the same day, in India.

In the last few days, friends of ours have also lost loved ones, both quite suddenly. It's gotten so that I don't want to answer the phone anymore, or read e-mail, or hear any news from anyone, because it always seems to be bad. In fact, the news of the ninth death came while I was writing this post.

Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un. To God we belong and to God we return.

Now it's Ashura, and in addition to grieving all these losses, we are mindful that our Shi'a friends are grieving and commemorating the martyrdom of Hussein ibn Ali at Karbala. (Some Sunnis also fast on this day, for other reasons which you can read about on that Ashura link.) Many Shi'as observe this occasion with dramatic displays of grief, including matam (chest-beating) and tatbir (self-flagellation/self-mortification), and the news is typically full of graphic, bloody images from these commemorations. ("If it bleeds, it leads...") It is a time, for many, of lamentation and laceration (of both body and spirit). And just speaking for myself personally, I think it should be a time for all Muslims to reflect on the sectarian hostility and violence that characterizes too much of our tradition, and the pain of our division as a community.

In researching Ashura a little, I found an interesting blog entry from a few years ago, covering an Ashura procession on Park Avenue in New York City. The author provides what he calls a "ludicrously short primer"  on the Sunni/Shi'a split and Ashura, along with photos of the Ashura procession. Is this done every year in NYC? Or was it a one-off? If you know more, please post in the comments. Either way, it's intriguing to see how this event was carried out in North America.

I also discovered that in recent years there have been calls from many quarters, including several prominent clerics, to channel the powerful impulse to spill one's own blood in observation of what happened at Karbala into the practice of blood donation. One's losses can be transmuted, literally, into others' salvation. For example, in the UK, the Islamic Unity Society is urging Shi'as to give blood. Founder Dr. Marwan Al-Dawoud says: 

"If people want to self-flagellate, it's up to them," he said.

"What we're saying is that this is a time when we feel that Imam Hussein gave something of himself.

"Use that message and give blood because it's something that is good for society.

"It's saving life at the end of the day and there is no greater gift from God."

Similar campaigns have happened or are underway in places like Turkey, Azerbaijan, Afghanistan, Bahrain, Pakistan, and, I'm sure, other places. While the religious studies scholar in me totally gets and appreciates the ritual of tatbir, I think there's also something to be said for the meaningful redevelopment of religious practice, too. There's a place for both rituals. And for those of us--whether Shi'a, Sunni, another Muslim sect, or perhaps not even Muslim--who'd like to commemorate Ashura without tatbir, blood donation is a worthwhile option. What's not to like about having a choice?

"Back Up!": Artist Anida Yoeu Ali

If you haven't heard about Khmer Muslim artist Anida Yoeu Ali, listen up. The Cambodian-born, Chicago-raised woman is an interdisciplinary artist; she describes herself as a "performance artist, writer, and global agitator." Ali's work explores issues related to identity, particularly hybridity and transnationality. She recently completed an MFA in Performance at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. As part of her work there, she put together a multi-faceted installation called The 1700% Project--the title of which refers to the post-September 11 increase in hate crimes against people perceived to be Arab or Muslim in the US.

The 1700% Project is collaborative, and consists of a poem, a video (below), audio recording, performances, and installation. In June, the video The 1700% Project: Mistaken for Muslim, which was directed, edited, and shot by Ali's husband Masahiro Sugano, won the $25,000 grand prize in the One Chicago, One Nation Online Video Contest. It also won the $5,000 prize in the music video/spoken word/animation category. 

The whole project is a powerful statement against racial profiling of Muslims and the crimes of hate and violence that accompany the practice. In May 2010, when she was first mounting the installation, Ali's own art became the subject of a hate crime. She returned five days after painting the installation to find that the work itself had been the target of racist vandals. It had been defaced with large caricatures and a dialogue balloon emphasizing a particular part of her text: the phrase "Kill all Arabs." Here are images of the work before and after the defacement.

Ali wrote on the 1700% blog about the traumatic experience of discovering and trying to deal with the defacement: Articulating the Assault. Ali really had no choice but to alter her intended project to incorporate the experience of being targeted by racists; to try, as she puts it, to turn an act of defacement into an act of defiance:

My original performance was going to entail a scheduled performance of the text followed by a public staining of the walls. The point of the “1700% Project: Otherance” has always been to make what is seemingly invisible more visible. However, based on this recent incident, I am responding by modifying the performance to include a facilitated dialogue with faculty, students, the public and the communities to which these acts of hate and bias crimes address. The “1700% Project: Otherance” is a politically charged art installation that cannot be silenced and disrupted in this manner. During Saturday’s performance I am asking for the public to join me in the staining process — to transform the marks of vandalism and hate into acts of collective healing and reclamation. This is a call to action to respond as a community within and beyond the borders of SAIC. This is not just an assault on me as an artist, this is an attack on multiple communities to which the work speaks for.

Take note, racist fools: Ali is not someone you can screw with. She is a force to be reckoned with. She is fierce.

Don't miss her correspondence with the administrators of the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, about their apathy and indifference. Very disappointing "response" on their part. How gratifying that she went on to win the grand prize in that video contest.

Ali has other great things to check out: her personal blog, Atomic Shogun, which she's been keeping for five years, and where you can find out about past performances and artworks; and the spoken word CDs, books, and anthologies she's created or contributed to, which you can buy here. (I love the cover for I Was Born with Two Tongues.) Whatever you do, be sure to watch this video. And then watch it again: it deserves (and rewards) multiple viewings. I've already watched it about seven times, and it holds up. (You can find the poem/text of the video here.) Can't wait to see what she does next.
   

"Whoever Brought Me Here Will Have to Take Me Home": RumiFest 2010

  Coleman Barks (at far right) and two dervishes.

We were at RumiFest Saturday night. I thought it was an annual thing but it turns out this was the first one, organized by Nomans Land Productions. It was held in the sanctuary of Trinity-St. Paul's United Church, a beautiful, intimate space. We had pretty good balcony seats with a better view than I think we would have had on the floor. The event, emceed by Raheel Raza, was planned so that each performance was about 15-25 minutes and then the next one would be introduced. The main attractions were Rumi translator Coleman Barks, sitar hero Irshad Khan, guitarist Garo and some of his musician friends, and singers/musicians from the local Jerrahi Sufi order with two whirling dervishes from the US.

Coleman Barks, the person who has created the most popular English translations of Rumi, is a big man with a big personality. His particular southern accent (Barks was born in Tennessee) kept reminding me of Elvis (whose accent was a Mississippi/ Tennessee mix, I think). If you can imagine English translations of Rumi read by a tall bearded man with an accent like that, you've got the picture. His readings were accompanied by the music of cellist Anne Bourne, who also does what one reviewer describes as "otherworldly vocalizing" while she plays. Bourne was very good, but quite often far too loud; the volume of her music would vary dramatically, and drowned out Barks's lines several times. I found this extremely annoying and I bet was not alone. I wanted to go ask the sound guys to turn down her microphone (or turn Barks's up--but he was perfectly audible unless she started wailing).

I'm still not entirely sure the musical accompaniment was an improvement over speech alone. I've seen some videos online with Barks reading to other musical accompaninent, and they're okay, but I really think I'd prefer to be able to hear and concentrate on what Barks was saying. Certainly between his own stage presence and the poetry of one of the greatest poets in the history of the world, he can hold his own. He also told lots of funny personal anecdotes and some Mulla Nasruddin stories and read at least one of his own poems. Obviously an experienced speaker and performer; very comfortable on stage. I was delighted when, very early on, he read one of my favourites from his book The Essential Rumi, called "Who Says Words With My Mouth?" A few lines: "This drunkenness began in some other tavern. / When I get back around to that place, / I'll be completely sober." And later: "I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way. / Whoever brought me here will have to take me home."

Irshad Khan rocked. Raza introduced him by noting he's often been called the Mozart of India but as I said to Neman after Khan had been playing for a bit, "More like the Eddie van Halen of India."   He's the consummate performer type: able to engage and educate the audience while he goes through the unavoidable process of retuning the sitar to various scales (Persian, Indian, Western). For this event, Khan had translated lines of three Rumi poems into English, and was singing them to sitar compositions that he said were about 90% improvised. His virtuosity elicited much enthusiastic applause mid-song. (You know you're good when people want to applaud before you're even done.) The evening was running a little behind schedule due to widespread traffic delays through the city, so a couple of minutes into the third song, the organizer gave Khan the "two minutes" gesture. I really wish they'd shortened up the previous performance, Garo and friends, which I think went on for at least twenty-five minutes. They were fine, but we really would have liked to have more of Irshad Khan. (And we didn't get any good pictures of him playing; they all came out blurry. Hence the stock photo.)

After the intermission, Barks read again, and then we got to the grand finale: the whirling dervishes and dhikr (devotional recitation of God's names) by the singers and musicians of the Toronto-based Jerrahi Order of Canada. The first time the dervishes whirled, Coleman Barks read some poetry along with a handful of musicians: a drummer, a ney player, and someone playing a stringed instrument I don't know the name of. Then it was full-on dervish time, with at least thirteen musicians on stage, playing and singing while the dervishes whirled. This, thankfully, was sufficiently attentuated to induce the more contemplative state which is the aim of all this artistic activity. (Neman would say it went on too long, but for me it was just barely long enough.) But it was only during this sequence that I sensed the majority of the audience was completely absorbed in the aesthetic and spiritual experience. It's kind of clichéd to say this, but it was genuinely mesmerizing. This Sufi order has regular gatherings on Saturday nights; they start at 8:00 p.m. with a traditional supper and continue until midnight. Admission is free and you can come and go whenever you like.

Quite an enjoyable evening, very reasonably priced with tickets at $20 and $30, and well-executed given that it was the first such event. Looking forward to more from Nomansland Productions.

Taqwacore: The Birth of Punk Islam

How can we NOT love this film? We’re both in it. No, seriously, we are! Okay, just barely: you can see the backs of our heads in some of the scenes of Michael Muhammad Knight’s reading at The Gladstone in Toronto in early 2009. Director Omar Majeed was there, too, showing some scenes from the then-unfinished version of Taqwacore: The Birth of Punk Islam, a documentary that was released in late 2009. We were thrilled to see those scenes then and couldn’t wait to see the finished film, which we did last year.  It's gotten very strong, even stellar, reviews. It's still making the rounds on the festival circuit and tomorrow night, it premieres on the Documentary Channel.

Almost any discussion of this documentary has to start out by distinguishing this film from the very similarly-titled drama The Taqwacores: The Movie, which came out this year. That movie, directed by Eyad Zahra, is based on the 2003 novel The Taqwacores, by Michael Muhammad Knight, which imagined and then spawned a Muslim punk scene…which is what Canadian director Omar Majeed then made his documentary about. Got that? Good.

Taqwacore: The Birth of Punk Islam looks at the very marginal subculture that sprung to life after Knight self-published his provocative novel, a book he says he wrote “from a place of extreme loneliness,” several years ago. Majeed focuses the film around the experiences of Knight and a band called The Kominas (“scumbags” in Punjabi). The first half of the film follows them as they set out on a old school bus to tour around the US, meeting up with the members of the widely scattered North American Muslim punk movement (Secret Trial Five, Al-Thawra, Diacritical, Vote Hezbollah) and doing shows on what was called The Taqwatour. The climax of the first half is their performance at an Islamic Society of North America annual conference, which is met mostly with the disapprobation of the organizers, although some of the audience members are receptive. The ISNA organizers object primarily to the performance of Secret Trial Five, whose lead singer is a woman, Sena Hussain. Apparently one of the main policies for musical performances at ISNA conferences is “no female singers” (whether or not they’re in hijab).  The ISNA people finally call in the police, and the bands choose to leave, chanting “Pigs are haram in Islam!” rather than get arrested.

In the film’s second half, Basim Usmani of the Kominas goes to Pakistan, and eventually Knight and Usmani's bandmate Shahjehan Khan haul themselves to Pakistan, too. Khan and Usmani start a band called Noble Drew and try to unleash their brand of punk in a Muslim country with varying results. They explore some of the many expressions of Islam in Pakistan (specifically, Lahore), visiting Sufi shrines and a Shi’a mosque, taking part in a ritual that I’m fairly sure is connected to the mourning of Ashura. Knight travels by himself back to Islamabad, to revisit the Faisal Mosque where he spent time as a teenage convert, getting enough Wahhabi indoctrination to push him almost completely out of the religion. In Lahore, Noble Drew tries to put on a concert that quickly gets shut down, and they struggle to figure out how to connect with audiences in Pakistan. A local friend explains, “In order to make a difference in someplace, you first have to be absorbed in it. That takes time.”

They finally decide to put on a free show on a rooftop overlooking both the beautiful Badshahi Mosque and Lahore’s red light district—one can hardly think of a more perfect location. It’s not easy to get people interested. Someone in the film describes the way musical appreciation tends to fall along class lines in Pakistan: pop music is for the rich people, traditional music is for the poor. And who even knows what the hell this Muslim punk thing is? Noble Drew and their supporters are trying to reach anybody/everybody, and it’s not easy. But they finally manage to attract a pretty enthusiastic crowd to the free concert, and give a really successful, well-received show, which forms the climax for this half.

The juxtaposition of the two very different cultures and worldviews works well, I think; on some level, it’s kind of amusing how uptight and/or ambivalent the North American ISNA scene is, contrasted with how receptive and open the Pakistani audience is. Everything and everyone in the film underlines how complex, how multifaceted, how diverse Islam really is—and you’re only seeing a small fragment of that diversity in this movie. There isn’t just one kind of Muslim, no matter what certain mullahs and media outlets would have you believe. There isn't only one right or good way to be Muslim. And no matter how much cognitive dissonance the notion of Muslim punk might evoke, it still exists. As Knight says at one point, people should understand that “in the so-called war of civilizations, we’re pointing the middle finger in both directions.” Taqwacore: The Birth of Punk Islam looks at some of the challenges in getting that message out there.

The one criticism I think I would make of the film is that as a Muslim woman I would like to have seen and heard a little bit more from the women in the Muslim punk scene. Sena Hussain, the lead singer of Secret Trial Five, gets to talk and sing a bit, and I realize there aren't a ton of women putting out Muslim punk music, but we could have heard more from the female fans, especially the women at the basement concerts and so on. However transgressive it may be for the men involved in Muslim punk, it’s more transgressive for the women. I think there would have been room for it in the film; it’s certainly not overly long at 79 minutes and it’s consistently engaging.

Anyway. I’ve gone on a bit longer than I meant to, but I really enjoyed this film and I want to encourage you to see it. If you’ve got the Documentary Channel (US version), it’s on Saturday, October 23, at 8 p.m. Join the film’s Facebook page to be kept abreast of festival screenings and other opportunities to see it. As Knight says in the film, “There is a cool Islam. You just have to find it. You have to sift through all the other stuff, but it’s there.”

 

The Taqwacores: Coming Soon to a Festival Near You

Hey! Good news: if you can be in Toronto this Saturday night, there are still tickets for Eyad Zahra's new film The Taqwacores. (Not to be confused with Omar Majeed's 2010 documentary, Taqwacore: The Birth of Punk Islam -- also very worthwhile. You should see that, too.) Both films were inspired in different ways by Michael Muhammad Knight's self-published 2003 novel, The Taqwacores, which invented--and then spawned--an entire subculture of Muslim punk rock.

I'm really excited, because ever since I read the novel many years ago, I wanted to make this film. I knew I'd never manage to assemble the time, money, and skills to do so, though, so the next best thing was hoping that someone else would do a bang-up job. The film's been showing in festivals all over, and winning accolades, so I have high hopes.

Anyway, it's been recently included in this year's FILMI South Asian Film Festival in Toronto, and will be showing Saturday night (October 2) at the Revue Cinema on Roncesvalles. And one of the stars, Noureen DeWulf, will be there for a Q&A after the screening. Tickets are available online here. I'll be there, and I'll have Philosufi's review of the film for you soon.

Here's a current list of upcoming screenings:

• 2010 Ourense International Film Festival
  Ourense, Spain - Oct 1-9
• 2010 FILMI South Asian Film Festival
  Toronto, Canada - October 2nd
• 2010 Scottsdale International Film Festival
  Scottsdale, AZ - Oct 2nd & Oct 3rd
• 2010 Warsaw International Film Festival
  Warsaw, Poland - Oct 8-17
• 2010 BFI London Film Festival
  London, England - Oct 13-28
• 2010 Eastern Oregon Film Festival
  La Grande, Oregon - Oct 21-23
• 2010 San Diego Asian Film Festival
  San Diego, CA - Oct 26
• 2010 Virginia Film Festival
  Charlottesville, VA - Nov 5-8

Keep an eye on The Taqwacores website, or its Facebook page, for news and details. In the meantime, enjoy the trailer:

 

There Will Be Dervishes: RumiFest 2010

If you don’t already know, RumiFest 2010 is coming up soon in Toronto! It's happening Saturday, October 23, 2010, 6:30 p.m. at Trinity-St. Paul Centre in the Bloor-Spadina area of Toronto.

Coleman Barks , the preeminent English translator of Rumi will be there. Guitarist Garo Altinian will perform. There will be a special guest performance by sitar virtuoso Irshad Khan.  There will be an art exhibit. And there will be dervishes. The whirling kind, with Sufi music.

And we’ll be there, too, wearing—what else?—our Sufi winged heart T-shirt.  (We might even have a few extras on hand to sell.)

Tickets are available now online ($30 floor, $20 balcony.) Don't wait until that night to get yours. Should be a fantastic evening...let’s pack the place, people!

 

"Might Act Up But I Can Still Pass Dawah": Muslim Hip-Hop

Islam is hip-hop’s official religion. Yeah, I said it. But I’m not the first and won’t be the last. For years and years, a huge number of rap musicians and hip-hoppers have acknowledged the influence Islam has had on their lives and lyrics. Massive names from Mos Def (straight-up, practicing) to Ice Cube (a casual relationship he calls being a "natural Muslim") and God only knows how many in between, have declared some kind of affliation with the religion, be it proximity or practice. Jurassic 5, The Roots, Public Enemy, Napolean…the list has some pretty big names.

Not surprisingly, there’s a pretty large influence from Nation of Islam and the 5 Percenters, both of which associate Islam and black empowerment. This relationship prompts many orthodox Sunni types to say that these artists are not “true Muslims.” Whatever. I’m not keeping a scorecard; I’m interested in the pervasive-but-barely-acknowledged-in-the-mainstream-media idea of Islam’s influence in hip-hop. (For a wee taste, check these sampler medleys of Muslim rap artists: Muslim Rappers 2010 1, Muslim Rappers 2010 2, Muslim Rappers 2010 3.)

But now (speaking of mainstream) there’s actually a strong and burgeoning movement that’s got its core in Sunni Islam. This music is not born only of urban anger and rebellion, but also of love for life and faith. Check out the great introduction to this scene at Muslim Hip-Hop and MuslimRap. Plough through the categories – you might surprise yourself with how good some of the music is. Check out Blakstone, Mohammed Yahya, and more.

One thing I really appreciate is artists who have a strong faith but who (a) aren’t preachy, and (b) have more than one thing to sing about. The unifying thread may be that they’re Muslim, but they don’t have to sing about their love for God ALL THE TIME. (Thank you, Mos Def, Lupe Fiasco, and Jay-Z among others.) I’m Muslim (true story!), but that does not mean I need or want the constant preaching. There’s more.

I remember first hearing Flavor Flav belting out “Assalam-ul-aikum, and that’s the way we take ‘em” again and again in the tail end of “Gett Off My Back.” I still have no idea what he meant (of course, that’s true for most of what he says – anyone got a definitive explanation of “cold lamping”?) but it was soooo cool to hear something like that in the music I loved. Also awesome? When Jurassic 5 drops their little ilm-bombs? Oh yeah… wow. Acknowledgment. Sure wasn’t gonna come from KISS, yo. (Shalom Chaim!)

Since rap and hip-hop are by definition such verbal art forms, and you don’t need much more than a beat(box), I can’t think of a more perfect way to combine the contemporary frustration of growing up Muslim in a world that’s turned against you, and short-circuiting the “stringed instruments are haram” brigade.

We'll return to this subject for sure; for now, enjoy this short video of Mos Def freestyling the Muslim greeting and performing "Wahid" at this year's Takin' it to the Streets festival in Chicago:

(If you have any trouble with the video link, click here.)

Sandow Birk's American Qur'an

 

 American artist Sandow Birk’s body of work is diverse and distinctive. An artist and filmmaker of note who frequently tackles challenging subject matter—from prisons to empire to the war in Iraq—he recently took on what is likely to be his most controversial project to date: American Qur’an. Using copyright-free English translations of the Qur’an, Birk (who is not Muslim) is engaged in the process of creating a nearly 250-page artwork that will ultimately present all 114 suras (chapters). It is a hand-lettered version featuring illustrations—not of God, or the Prophet Muhammad—but scenes of contemporary American life. The art combines particularly American stylistic elements (such as a font derived from grafitti tagging) with traditional elements of Persian miniatures and Arabic art, creating a completely original response to the Qur’an.

At first glance, it seems an undertaking bound to provoke the same kind of reaction as the Danish cartoon controversy. But Birk has researched and contemplated the project extensively and respectfully. He is deeply and seriously engaging with the text in a manner which, frankly, many more Muslims (myself included) could stand to do…to say nothing of the rabid Islamophobes who are always quoting things out of context, and raging about a scripture they haven’t remotely attempted to grasp.

It is generally understood among Muslims that the Qur’an is only the Qur’an in Arabic; translations, no matter how outstanding, scholarly, or well-intentioned, are not considered to be equivalent. Birk is not doing anything with what Muslims consider actual scripture, and nothing here (in my semi-scholarly opinion) comes close to blasphemy. He is challenging himself to encounter and respond to the message of the Qur’an as conveyed in English. From his website:

At a time when the United States is involved in two wars against Islamic nations and declares itself to be in a cultural and philosophical struggle against Islamic extremists, American artist Sandow Birk’s latest project considers the Qur’an as it was intended – as a universal message to humankind. If the Qur’an is indeed a divine message to all peoples, he ponders, what does it mean to an individual American in the 21st Century? How does the message of the Qur’an relate to us, as Americans, in this life, in this time? What is this message that we have spent so much blood and treasure fighting against, and how can the message of the Qur’an be applied to contemporary American life? In short, what might the Qur’an mean to contemporary Americans?

I think his work deserves to be seriously and thoughtfully engaged by Muslims, especially those who know the Arabic Qur’an well. Has its timeless, universal message emerged in Birk’s work? Does Birk’s art help us to understand that message in a new way? Does his work connect with people who might not otherwise hear or understand the message? Does it open our minds to new possibilities?

As Birk says in a 2009 New York Times article about the project: “The Koran is supposed to be a message from God,” he said. “If God is speaking to human beings, I should be able to pick up this book and think about it. I should be able to contemplate what it means to me.”

A showing of some of the works of American Qur’an opens Sept. 10 at PPOW Gallery in New York and runs until October 9. I wish I could attend this showing, and I can’t wait to be able to see the entire project exhibited. Here is one of his pages, for Sura 100, Al-Adiyat (The Chargers). You can see quite a few others on his website.

 

The Mooz Brothers: 30 Mosques in 30 States in 30 Days

 

Bassam: It's 8400 miles to Dearborn, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of medjool dates, it's the crack of dawn, and we're not wearing kufis.

 

There is nothing like a road trip. It is the best thing in the world when you get in a car with your best bud and hit the road with a destination and only one rule: have as much fun as possible, every step of the way.

 

In Aman Ali and Bassam Tariq’s road trip blog, 30 Mosques 30 States, they’re doing exactly that – having as much fun as possible, every mosque of the way. Last year they did the 30 Mosques project for a lark: they enjoyed an iftar (fast breaking) meal in a different mosque in New York City every night of the month of Ramadan. An awesome idea in and of itself (me: jealous that’s not just possible, but practical. How can you not love NYC?), they’ve upped the ante this year. They’re doing 30 mosques in 30 states, a different state every night. Oh yeah... 

 The open loop is 13,528 km (8,455 mi) long (they claim it’s 12,000 miles, but me being who I am, I double-checked the numbers) and started August 12 in NYC at the Mosque of Islamic Brotherhood and made a special trip to Park51 (the not-mosque at not-Ground Zero, thanks Keith Olberman). Aman and Bassam are blogging about each iftar with lots of pictures of people, food, sights, and the mosques themselves. They were in Atlanta, GA last night, and tonight they’ll be in Jacksonville, FL. On average they’ll be doing about 450 km (282 mi) a day to get to the next place, and finish up in Dearborn, MI, which has a huge Muslim population.

One thing they’ll see that most of us stationary types won’t is the range of Muslims even within one country. In an NPR interview with the guys (this year there’s lots of media attention), Aman talks about the mosque in Maine where there seemed to be a high percentage of converts and interracial couples. No fear of a beige planet there.

This project is such a blast. Not just because of the road trip aspect, or the diversity aspect, but because we see cheerful, humanized, real Muslims exist everywhere, all celebrating the great traditions of Ramadan in their own ways. It would be so cool to do a project like this in the Toronto area, then across Canada too. Not only do we – Alhamdulillah – have a whole bunch of mosques in Toronto, but there’s a stunning amount of ethnic diversity in the city. A cliché it may be, but it’s still true: what unites us is far greater than what divides us. (Thanks, JFK!) If you want to help them out a bit financially, there's a little ChipIn donation widget on the main page of their blog.

For every one of you who knows that we’re nothing like the right-wing nutcases describe us, you’ll find this blog a fun, refreshing slice of reality. I wonder where they’ll celebrate Eid?

The next logical step: 30 mosques in 30 countries in 30 days. This would be totally doable in Europe, dudes!

Aman: Hit it.

Mooz-lum: The Movie

 

The official trailer for Mooz-lum: The Movie was just released a few days ago. Here's the synopsis from the movie's Facebook page:

Pulled between his strict Muslim upbringing by his father and the normal social life he's never had, Tariq Mahdi enters college in a state of confusion. New relationships with Muslims and non-Muslims alike challenge his already shaken ideals, and the estrangement with his mother and sister troubles him. With the help of new friends, family and mentors, he begins to find himself and open up to an Islam he hasn't been exposed to. But when the attacks of 9/11 happen without warning, he is forced to face his past and make the biggest decisions of his life.

The film stars Nia Long and Danny Glover; the lead character is played by Evan Ross, whose work I don't know, but I expect we'll be seeing a lot of him as he is in about ten movies this year and next. Summer Bishil, who played the lead in Towelhead, is also in it. I am definitely excited about there being more films reflecting the experiences of North American Muslims (some others in this vein include Sabah, Arranged, and Amreeka; would love to hear about others in the comments). You can watch the official trailer here:

(If you have any trouble with the link, click here to open the video in a new window.)

Directed by Qasim "Q" Basir, the movie has attracted a considerable following on its Facebook page: over 36,500 "likers" at this writing. Basir is an African-American Muslim who won the Inspirational Filmmaker of the Year award from the Memphis Black Writers Film Festival for his series of seven short films called The Inspiration of Barack, focusing on different people who were inspired by Barack Obama to make essential progress in their lives. Basir hopes to use Facebook, Twitter, and other social media to both drive and convey the demand for the film. A note on the site says:

We don't know when it's coming out, but if we can build up a force behind us that is comprised of a million people from all over the world who demand to see this film in a local theater, then a distributor has no choice but to put it out. You are that force. Every time you suggest to friends, post to your profile, write a blog, tweet or send an email, you're helping us get closer. But don't do this stuff just once, do it over and over again until all of your friends & people from all Cultures & Faiths are a part of this. Then we can say, The people have spoken, give them what they want!

In the meantime we will be opening at select film festivals which will be announced shortly.

Will it work? We'll see. I really hope the movie's good. But that, as we know, doesn't guarantee an audience, although it sure does help. (I also hope that they decide to use a different font for the credits than we see in the trailer and on the poster, above. Those fake-o, quasi-Arabic fonts are usually hideous and I've rarely seen it pulled off well.)

Another Fiqh in the Wall

It may just be a song, but it’s a powerful song with a long history. Released in 1979, "Another Brick In The Wall (Part II)" paints the picture of a most repressive regime – boarding school. It’s only fitting that Toronto’s Blurred Vision has used Pink Floyd's most well-known piece (with Roger Waters' blessing) to bring to our minds another repressive regime that got the world’s attention in the same year – Iran. Replacing the headmaster with an ayatollah, two Iranian brothers Sohl and Sepp (they don’t go by their full names for fear of government reprisals against other family members) drive the point home. I’m not going to ruin the whole thing for you. Watch it here:

BTW - half the proceeds from the song (purchase on iTunes) go to Amnesty International so you’ll be helping out in a big way.

(If the Flash above doesn't work, watch it on YouTube here.)

While it’s great to see Blurred Vision, U2, and others bringing attention to the repressive insanity that defines Iranian life, what struck me as particularly interesting is that in a recent Guardian interview with Ayatollah Ali Khamenei (the head cheese), he quite casually asserts that music is halal. But: "Although music is halal, promoting and teaching it is not compatible with the highest values of the sacred regime of the Islamic Republic." I seem to recall my parents telling me that it wasn’t for us to make the halal haram, and vice-versa. (Mind you, that was because I was a vegetarian at the time. Still, the point holds.) Khamenei wants to encourage the yoots to take up sport or essential and useful things, like science. My favourite bit from the article:

Iran has rarely given permission to concerts, as it fears that the opposition might use it as an opportunity to express itself, said Mohammad Reza Shajarian, Iran's most prolific and popular classical vocalist.

"They are afraid of my concerts because of those moments before the concert is begun, when the whole hall is in silence and darkness when someone suddenly shouts 'death to dictator' and everybody accompanies and they are unable to identify that person," Shajarian said.

Telling, no?

I wonder exactly what kind of music Khamenei considers halal? Well-tuned screams from his torture chambers? According to his pre-revolutionary cellmate, Houshang Asadi, he’s always hated music, except for “revolutionary and religious anthems.” Guy sounds like a party.

Someone want to tell me why he’d hate music and love sport? Could it be because sport and other such behaviours can foster a pack mentality, and the us vs. them way of thinking that’s so common to paranoid types? Other than the obviously well-founded hate between the Mods and the Rockers, music doesn’t generally lead to us vs. them. Hmm... actually, I have always hated the Counting Crows. There goes my hypothesis.

Anyway, here’s hoping this is one piece of music that pushes the revolution to the next stage of evolution.

Salaam alaikum, eh?

So for ages now, we've had all these ideas for T-shirts and other products aimed at Muslim mavericks/misfits/malcontents/hipsters/hybrids (at least some of which we are ourselves, at least some of the time), and all these things we wanted to blog about, and so after much foot-dragging we have finally gotten around to pulling it all together in this project we're calling Philosufi (pronounced philosophy). Think of it as a store/community centre/lounge at the intersection of Islam and popular culture.

We've got our first T-shirt ready, and the next one is about to go into production. We just received our first shipment of the "Soccer Imam" shirt a few days ago and it looks great! We're pretty excited.

We're planning to release at least one or two new designs each month--maybe more if we can manage it. (We're actively looking for graphic designers to work with on our T-shirts, by the way; if you are interested in working for hire please e-mail us (zawj ^ philosufi - c-om). We are especially keen to find designers with mad typographical skills.) We're working with PrintMojo, a T-shirt printing and fulfillment service based in California. So when you order our shirts, you're dealing with them, not us. (Much as we love T-shirts, the idea of warehousing and shipping them ourselves did not appeal to us.)

We've also got an Amazon store full of resources we think are worthwhile and relevant, and will be adding to it frequently. We're interested in your suggestions for the store, too, so don't hold back. What have read/seen/heard that you think we should include?

We are looking for our community, and trying to create a virtual place for that community. That means we want to hear from you, so please e-mail us (zawj ^ philosufi - c-om), and post comments, and send us pictures of you wearing our shirts and suggestions for products in our stores and topics in this blog. This is a project which is still taking shape and unfolding, so we hope you'll be understanding as we develop and add and tweak things. We're excited about sharing this with you, but even more eager to hear from you. Welcome!