Recently returned from a return-to-roots tour of Armenia, duo Armadi Tsayn, pioneers of the sounds of the Middle East, talk about the music’s storied past and ascendant future.
Samuel Sjostedt and Alek Surenian of the duo Armadi Tsayn have carved out a circle in the Boston music scene for the sounds of the Armenian highlands. The inheritors of an enduring and resilient musical tradition, the duo are nevertheless unafraid to allow the music from their roots to be influenced by their wide reaching genre tastes.
Sjostedt comes from a musical family, and whilst he grew up on a healthy diet of punk rock, the constant exposure to traditional Armenian music at family gatherings eventually rubbed off on him. “Growing up I just thought it was that weird stuff my grandparents would listen to, but as I got older, and they got older, the music became more absent, and I found myself wanting more of it” he said. Now he attends Berklee College of Music with the oud as his principal instrument.
Surenian spoke of the music’s migration westward, and how, after the Armenian Genocide, it had to adapt in order to survive. “A lot of this music was pioneered in the Middle East, because when the Armenian Genocide happened, we needed to essentially adapt our instruments to other instruments from the Middle East and the West. Instruments such as the dumbeg or the oud, very much from the Middle East, [are now played] in tandem with acoustic guitars and clarinets.” Surenian, originally from Chicago, remembers hearing this far-traveled music growing up in the Midwest. Upon moving to the east coast, he found that the music, which in his experience was primarily enjoyed by older generations, was being not only kept alive, but innovated by a young cohort of musicians.
The music of the Armenian Highlands, despite every effort to destroy it, has survived. Often referred to as “kef” music, this Armenian songbook was played to be danced, eaten, and drank to. It is characterized by its meandering, sometimes haunting melodies, driving rhythms, mind-boggling time signatures, and long-established instrumentation. The sound of Armadi Tsayn comes from somewhere deep, dexterous, and virtuosic but also delicate and lyrical, with melodies and songs that possess the narrative arc of a story. Sjostedt plays the oud, an incredibly old, migratory instrument from the Arabian Peninsula. An 11-string hollow body with a dynamic range and ancestor of the European lute, the oud is both lyrical and percussive. Surenian plays the dumbeg, a handheld percussion instrument capable of rapid fire rhythms as well as deep, rounded bass notes. The duo performs in tight synchronicity, accentuating the music’s off-kilter time signatures and buoyant rhythms that tilt forward, constantly rolling along.
After crossing paths at an Armenian youth group, Sjostedt and Surenian’s shared pursuit of music inevitably led to them joining forces. “Wow! This guy is under the age of 60 and plays this kind of music?!” recalled Surenian. The duo spoke with depth and expertise about not only the music, but its inseparability from their identity as Armenian diasporans in Boston. Armenia’s history, with its wealth of musical history outlined and experienced by Sjostedt and Surenian, also has deep scars from war, genocide, and conflict.
In more recent history, the Armenian Genocide that took place during the First World War is still felt strongly among Armenians today. That’s not to mention the decades-long conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan in the region of Artsakh, which establishes a tangible and present danger to those living there today. Sjostedt and Surenian, who have both had family members flee the country due to the conflict, talked about the inseparability of the music from their national identity—its triumphs, tragedies, history, and present-day situation. “[We are] trying to do what we can from the diaspora, whether that’s through music, politics, or art,” said Surenian. Their most recent single, “Artsakh Aghves” (Artsakh Fox), is a musical outreach to those populations living in the war-torn territories, an outpost of music, dance, and joy, firing back against a constant threat not too far away.
The instruments are thousands of years old and the sound of Armadi Tsayn reverberates with this immense historical force. But in Sjostedt and Surenian’s case, the music can’t help but be influenced by their eclectic music tastes. At Berklee, Sjostedt described how there is a keen interest to blend the ancestral music with contemporary elements, with free jazz musicians experimenting with the ancient instruments of their culture, or producers incorporating them into pop songs. “Personally, I like the innovation. Of course, I appreciate the traditional form… but each generation should bring new things to the table,” he said. Surenian continued the thought: “Kef music is a formula that hasn’t changed that much. It’s important to hold on to that heritage and identity, and it’s essentially what got me into playing music. But being able to explore and integrate other instruments is refreshing.” The hunger to bring new sounds to the ancient music is evident in the songs of Armadi Tsayn. For example, the duo sometimes expands to a trio, playing with pianists or violinists. They introduce modern improvisation to the equation while displaying reverence for the traditional forms, creating a unifying thread between a venerated past and an inventive future.
The duo are active on the Boston music scene, playing at venues like Club Passim and the Lilypad. More recently, they have got back from a tour of Armenia itself, taking the music back to the source, curious to see how their dissecting and reassembly of the music with it will be received by those who understand it best. (Check out their tour diary!) Back in Boston, look out for the duo as they make their rounds of the Boston venues, and hear the results of an experiment that bears the footprint of a hallowed history as it strides adventurously forward into new musical territory.