Delia Arts had the privilege of sitting down with the famous Palestinian Oud player, Adnan Joubran. Adnan is one third of the famous trio, Le Trio Joubran, the only musical trio to focus solely on the Oud. Le Trio Joubran consists of three brothers, Adnan, Samir and Wissam. Hailing from Palestine, Adnan Joubran was born into a very musical family, but actually only started playing the Oud at the age of 18. Adnan and his brothers have performed all over the world including, New York, Paris and London, and are working hard to not only preserve the traditional elements of Oud music, but to innovate within this musical scene also.
Read on to find out what it’s like dealing with the Eastern and the Western, the modern and the traditional in Palestinian music today.
First, tell me a bit about yourself and your music.
I’m the third brother of the Trio Joubran. We created the trio in 2004. It was the first trio for Oud in the world, and in Oriental music. So, it was a big challenge for us to start composing but we were very inspired by the famous album of ‘The Guitar Trio’, John Mclaughlin, paco De Lucia and Al Di Meola, ‘Friday Night in San Francisco.’ And we asked why the guitar is able to follow this type of career, and not the Oud. We had the capacity because we are three brothers and we know each other so well. We’ve studied each other’s music, let’s call it. I mean, I grew up listening to Samir and Wissam playing. So we were so close to each other musically.
When I was 18, I had my first concert in Paris and it ended with great success. We then signed with an agency, we created our own label and distribution company. From there, we started touring all over the world. Of course, France was a great host for a musical career. Culturally and socially, there is the capacity of performing everywhere in France. We were able to perform more than 100 concerts a year. That gave us great fame and a great start in music.
Then we started focusing on our musical identity. As I said before, this is the first time that three Ouds played together. So it is always a big responsibility for us to provide the right thing, to respect the tradition of the Oud, to respect the people and not to move too much towards the Occidental or too much toward the Western techniques.
We know that each one of us might not be the best Oud play in the world, but we are trying to be the best trio in the world.
In 2014, ten years after the formation of the trio, I decided to do a solo album and expand on my music. With my music, I chose to focus on the modern and young sound, different from my brothers. I made my first album, Borders Behind. I tried to approach different cultures. From Indian, to Eastern, to Middle Eastern music and then to classical music. I was inspired by the notion of the Silk Road and I created a new fabric of sound.
Nowadays, I’m trying to find a different approach to the Oud and to composition. I’m trying to engage with more online listeners and not only work in a live performance way. As the Trio we always composed as performers and for live events. Now, I see how the market is moving, how people are feeling and consuming the music. I’ve always been interested in images and cinema, so I want to create something more cinematic, atmospheric and more ambient. The pandemic has helped me move into more spiritual music. I want to offer people something that will help them with their well-being.
Did you grow up in Palestine? How was it growing up as a musician there?
I grew up in Palestine until I was 18, then I moved to Paris. I have lived in London for the last 5 years.
I actually was not a musician until I was 17. I was born into a musical family, with a Father that builds instruments, and with my musician brothers. I was watching and listening to musicians daily. I was a musician, but without an instrument. When I was 16, Samir left for Italy. We were so close as brothers and he told me to never touch his instrument. I missed him, however, and I wanted to be closer to him in a way. So I played his instrument. This was when I started improvising.
When I was 17, Samir and Wissam came with this album, Friday Night in San Francisco, and I said: ‘Well, we can do that.’ When I was 18, I left for Paris and this is when I started living as a musician.
You can clearly hear the traditional influence in your music. How important is it to keep this alive? Is it a struggle to keep the tradition going?
Even in Western music, when you listen to singers that just pronounce the words perfectly, you can understand their English. On the other hand, we’ve got people that are singing in Arabic, but they’re doing it in an American accent or an accent that is not Arabic at all. This is exactly what we are against when we say I want to modernise myself but I can’t go against my traditions or my language. When you speak a language there is a way of pronouncing the words. This is the same in music. There are ways of expressing and using the maqams and using your musical phrases and you can’t just go and use something very occidental or something very pop or jazzy. You can’t do rap on the Oud because you want it to sound like rap, no. But, you can do the effect of rap. So you can use the tools but not the outcome. This is why we make sure that we deliver something traditionally accurate, but at the same time, we can’t just repeat the tradition. In 40 or 50 years, what is considered good today will be considered traditional then.
Your music has been chosen as part of the soundtrack for numerous movies and documentaries. What’s that like? What do you think is the appeal behind your music for on screen art forms?
My music is emotional. We were invited to play with Chris Martin, on Coldplay’s last album. When he called Samir he said: “My spiritual healer gave me your album and he told me that what is missing in my music is emotions. And that is why I listen to you and I want to have you on my album.”
We feel it from people when they come to our concerts. Whether they cry or laugh, the music does something to their emotions. It evokes a lot of feelings. Because it’s music that comes from a genuine place, when we compose together, we fight. We do fight a lot over one note because what it does to me could be different from what it does to Samir.
You obviously have a connection to Palestine through your music. Why is it important to you to show this side of Palestine?
I can say clearly now, that music is our very powerful weapon that the enemy, if we want to call it the enemy, can not take it away from us. Especially now. Lately we have not been performing. On my social media, you can see my posts are not musical. My posts are very political. Because, I can’t hold my Oud and go and perform right now and tell the people about my culture. When we hold our instruments, it’s another language. We are telling the people that we do have lives, we do have a future, we do have dreams, and we do have a culture, history, place and story. Everything, we have it. Just like every other human. Our place just so happens to be Palestine. We all deserve to live there.
Do you think that Palestinian music is inherently resistant then?
Definitely. It is heavy on us as musicians. Sometimes you just want to write about a love story. And you think probably you should be more militant because there are people dying out there.
What’s up next for you?
DI wish I was recording but I can’t be inspired right now, with lockdowns etc. I need to meet people and travel for inspiration. But, I am working towards my next solo album. I can’t wait for the next concert with Trio Joubran. I figured out that we are not brothers, if we don’t have music. And we’re not musicians, if we don’t have brotherhood.
