Tonight (last night, to be more exact) I accompanied my friend Farzam to a
taar-maker, for him to buy an instrument. The taar-maker was named "
Rasool Khojasteh", a young man (32-ish, I'd say) who lives and works in Karaj.
We spent more than 3 hours talking with him, about many things, including taars and what set them apart, master taar players, the craft and art of making taars, how he became a taar-maker and the affair of a taar player and his/her taar. Since I know absolutely nothing about taars and music in general (and I'm pretty sure that I'm tone-deaf) I did not participate in the discussions, but the two of them talked and played some taar in the way that only two people with a common passion can.
He seemed to me as a very interesting guy. He talked about how he had found a 350-year old walnut tree in Alamut forests and had hauled it back to his workshop to make a dozen taars and many handles and other stuff. He said that he has more wood than he needs to make taar-handles(?) for a lifetime, and that now that the wood has been expertly dried and treated, many gun makers (or manufacturers) would pay him a dear sum to have the wood to make rifle stocks (you know, the end of the rifle where you put against your shoulder.) But he said there was no way he'd let the "precious" wood turned into guns, instead of taars. (Pretty quote-worthy, wouldn't you say?)
He also showed us his workshop. His passion was amazing when he was near his taars and was describing his procedures and experiences.
The story of him becoming a taar maker was also rather interesting. As he tells the story, he was born in a middle-class, and religious, family. When he was very young, maybe even before his teens, he hears a taar-solo and it moves so much that he falls in love with the instrument and with music. But his family considered music an unworthy and even sinful matter, so they wouldn't buy him a taar. Then he goes on and sells his older brother's bicycle, and buys a taar. When his father finds out, he breaks the taar, so he decides to make himself one. He remembers that he used to think that crafting a taar is not hard. He sets out to make himself one, with no knowledge of the craft. His first attempts were obviously failures, but his father breaks each and every one of them nonetheless. His father even hits him on the head with with one of the taars he'd made and breaks it! He says there's still a scar there. Anyways, he realized that there's science,art and craft involved in making a taar, and sets out to find out and learn from the other taar-makers. He remembers with a pang how they have treated him, keeping their information and methods from him (and everyone else.) But with bits and pieces of info from here and there, and the methods that he had to reinvent some of them for himself, he finally manges to build playable instruments. And now he reckons he's made hundreds of taars. But he doesn't do it for the money. We saw the evidence ourselves. He's agreed to make my friend a taar, and has agreed to accept his payment in a few installments instead of all at once, without knowing my friend and without him even having to give him a check.
Khojaste says that he became a taar maker to make one for himself, but after 18 years, he doesn't have a taar yet. He said that he's not made the
right one yet. When he said that he loved the instrument and loved what he did, I had no trouble believing him.
All in all, it was an interesting evening. I wish I understood this music thing that is as clear as a pool of mud to me.
