Mustafa Ismail's Melodic Narrative Part 3

The moment he utters the first word of the chapter, cries of “Allah!” erupt from the audience. Ismail does not disappoint them, for he engages in a passionate melodic dialogue with rast, from the verse: "The Inevitable [Hour]—what is the Inevitable [Hour]?" (69:1-2) to: "Eat and drink in satisfaction for what you put forth in the days past." (69:24)

Then, he moves to chapter Al-Nazi‘at, from: "Indeed in that is a lesson for whoever fears [Allah]." (79:26) to: "As a provision for you and your grazing livestock." (79:33) Still continuing in this maqam, he transitions again to Al-Shams, from its beginning: "By the sun and its brightness." (91:1) until the end of the chapter: "And he does not fear its consequence." (91:15) He then concludes this recitation with Surah Fatiha in maqam rast.

The Maqam Progression in Summary:

Time Maqam Verses

Beginning bayati & bayati shuri on dukah Fatir (35:1-3)

10:00 bayati/ bayati husayni on dukah (35:4-5)

21:00 bayati shuri on dukah (35:9)

22:00 saba on dukah (35:9)

28:00 bastah nigar on iraq (35:10)

29:00 bayati on dukah (35:11)

33:00 nawa athar (nikriz & hijaz) on yakah (35:12-13)

40:00 sikah on sikah (35:13-24)

54:00 rast on rast Fatir, Haqqa, Nazi‘at, Shams, and Fatiha

I propose that what manifests before us in Sheikh Mustafa Ismail’s melodic recitation is a form of maqam-based improvisation (taqsim). However, before delving into this explanation, we need to clarify some fundamental points regarding the perspective on Quranic recitation and its intersection with music and the theory of maqam progression.

A fact that cannot be ignored is the centuries-old debate over the legitimacy of using music—both in theory and practice—as a framework for understanding the role of melody in Quranic recitation. Some Muslim scholars, both past and present, have strictly prohibited any connection between music and the Quran, based on their interpretation of Islamic law, which they argue categorically forbids music and musical instruments. Fatwas on this issue vary between prohibition and permissibility, but they are not the focus of this study.

Since I have begun this article by analyzing Sheikh Mustafa Ismail’s recitation through the lens of Eastern maqam music theory, I obviously belong to the camp that not only deems music and melodic modes permissible but sees them as essential in our time for appreciating the meanings and beauty of the Quranic verses.

I also emphasize that our focus here on Sheikh Mustafa Ismail’s recitation is not related to his mastery of tajwid (Quranic phonetics and rules of recitation) or other Quranic sciences. Instead, our interest lies in his melodic genius and its implications for reshaping our perspective as musicians and enthusiasts of his legacy, particularly the richness of maqam structures in his recitations and recordings. 

As we previously stated, we follow in the footsteps of the late musician Ammar El-Sherei, who analyzed Mustafa Ismail’s recordings in terms of maqam and dramatic progression. El-Sherei, alongside Sheikh Ismail’s student, the contemporary reciter Ahmad Nuaina, noted that Ismail possessed an exceptional musical understanding unmatched by any other Quranic reciter.

Taking all of this into account, let us return to the maqam progression in Ismail’s recitations of Surah Fatir, Al-Haqqah, An-Nazi’at, Ash-Shams, and Al-Fatiha and consider his performance as a form of melodic improvisation known as taqsim. I would like to approach this idea by comparing Ismail with one of the geniuses of the Egyptian oud school in the 20th century: Riyad Al-Sunbati.

Just as Ismail is my favorite Quranic reciter, Sunbati—alongside Baligh Hamdi—is my first mentor in the oud, both in methodology, feeling, and performance. I often say in discussions about these two icons of Egyptian heritage: "Mustafa Ismail is the Riyad Al-Sunbati among reciters, and Riyad Al-Sunbati is the Mustafa Ismail among oud players."

Building on this comparison, I would like us to examine the maqam progression in Sunbati’s improvisations, particularly his famous taqsim in the maqam hijaz. This improvisation lasts five and a half minutes, beginning with an exploration of the root jins (hijaz) before gradually ascending to the nihawand jins as a secondary branch, reaching its first major shift to rast in a secondary jins anchored on the Nawa degree. 

After skillfully exploring rast, Sunbati briefly returns to nihawand before transitioning again to Shahnaz maqam, which consists of the hijaz jins in the root and a nikriz tetrachord on the Nawa note. He then executes a radical transition from hijaz to bayati on dukah—a transformation that is among the most skillful and emotionally rich maqam shifts in the art of taqsim. He concludes his journey in bayati before returning to the original hijaz maqam to conclude the improvisation.

The maqam progression in this piece is outlined in the following table:

| Time | Maqam |

| Start | hijaz in the root, nihawand in the branch |

| 2:10 | hijaz in the root, rast in the branch |

| 3:17 | shahnaz |

| 4:20 | bayati |

| 5:08 | hijaz in the root, nihawand in the branch | 

Just as Sunbati explored the root jins hijaz and the branch nihawand  in this taqsim, Ismail employed his voice to embody and convey the meanings of the Quranic verses through a similar exploration of bayati as the root jins and nihawand as the branch.

Ismail also executed a radical shift in maqamat, transitioning from bayati to saba, then to nawa athar and sikah, eventually reaching rast—much like Sunbati’s transition from hijaz to bayati.

However, a key difference between Ismail and Sunbati is that while Sunbati returns to his original maqam hijaz at the end of his taqsim, Ismail concludes his recitation in a different maqam— rast. This raises two possibilities. First, given that musical improvisations typically last between five and ten minutes (as seen in Sunbati’s hijaz taqsim), whereas Ismail’s recitations extend beyond an hour and a half, we must ask: If a taqsim hypothetically lasted an hour and a half, could the musician remain in a specific maqam without returning to it at the end? Or is returning to the root jins an essential feature of taqsim?

This leads us to the second possibility: the maqam progression in Ismail’s recitation consists of two taqsims —one in bayati and another in rast, which he uses to conclude his recitation.

A third possibility is that Ismail improvises through three maqam stages: bayati, saba/nawa athar, and sikah/rast. Regardless of the interpretation, what is evident is that the three well-known stages of taqsim performance—introduction (istihlal), transition (naqla), and conclusion (qafla)—are clearly present in Ismail’s melodic progression.

His introduction occurs in the first ten minutes, where he explores the bayati root jins with nihawand as the branch, with some shifts to hijaz on Nawa or shuri maqam. The transition stage is evident in his movement to bayati Husayni and further shifts to saba, nawa athar, and others. Depending on our interpretation, the conclusion stage can be seen in either: A singular continuous transition from Bayati Husayni to rast with a short Qafla at the end. Multiple taqsims, where each maqam phase follows its own istihlāl, naqla and qafla structure.

One might argue against all these interpretations, viewing Ismail’s performance simply as a series of melodic improvisations in various maqamat (bayati, saba, nawa athar, sikah, rast). That is entirely valid. However, what I propose in this study is the presence of at least two fundamental stages of taqsim in Ismail’s melodic performance: introduction and transition. This perspective compels us to reflect on the significance of his maqam creativity.

Can we derive a new model of taqsim from his melodic progression? What if we transcribed Ismail’s melodic phrases into musical notation for the oud and other Eastern instruments, as Dr. Ali Kasrawan did in his seminal book Kitab al-Taqasim? Does Sheikh Mustafa Ismail present us with an extended form of taqsim, allowing the performer to conclude in a different maqam, taking the listener on a gradual and fulfilling journey?

Once again, my aim in analyzing Ismail’s performance is not to impose music upon the sacred nature of the Quran, but rather to highlight how divine words ignite a unique melodic talent in a reciter who, despite not studying music formally, was immersed in it culturally from childhood—so much so that he instinctively used it to convey the meanings of the Quran to his listeners.

Perhaps this is why Beethoven said, “Vibrations in the air are the breath of God when He speaks to the human soul, and music is the language of God.” And perhaps this is also why the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ emphasized the importance of melody in Quranic recitation in several hadiths: “He is not one of us who does not recite the Quran melodiously,” “Adorn the Quran with your voices,” and “God listens more attentively to a man with a beautiful voice reciting the Quran than one of you does to their instrument.”