ALI GOYAM: THE COMPOSER’S ADVENTURE

Why “Ali Goyam”?

Because I like it. Because I can’t get it out of my head. 

“Ali Goyam” is a Qasida that touched the hearts of Ismaili audiences during the Diamond Jubilee Homage ceremony in 2017.  

In July 2017, when I was practicing for a group performance of “Ali Goyam,” I couldn’t help but hear Pachelbel’s “Canon in D” playing in my head under the vocal melody. It wouldn’t stop… just like “Ali Goyam”. Relentless, beautiful, and searching for resolution… continuously. 

In October 2018, I composed v1 (a mashup of both pieces) and recorded it with a brilliant group of singers and put it away.  

I was completely unsatisfied. Caught in loops, muddled in a sort of craze. It just wouldn’t go where I wanted it to go. I felt like the song had it out for me. 

Then, I quit. It was too hard. Seeking was too hard. Prayers felt unanswered. So in my head… I was done. “Ali Goyam” was over, and I’d just have to choose another career… either ferris wheel turner or botanist.  Yes, the block hurt so badly that I was ready to work at a traveling carnival just to escape this piece and every other piece I’d been working on for Impressions of Devotion.

While dealing with my crisis, I read Steven Pressfield’s book, War of Art, gifted to me by an actor friend who’d been through the hurt and glory of creation. What I found was that my escape to the carnival or the forest would have been futile. Pressfield says, “When we fight it, we are in a war to the death.” Yes, it’s that serious for many artists… especially the ones who refuse to look resistance in its bloodshot eye. 

Then some 6 months later, the magic started to happen. A chorus developed. The journey of the piece became clear. The pain of my heartache would have to be translated, alchemized into something far more divine than a “song.” 

A song would never cut it. Not even close. I needed to EXPERIENCE something.  I needed to be transported. I needed to transcend the cutting pain, not avoid it. Transcend it with full awareness of the breakage in my soul and self-esteem. 

And so I sought, not out of desperation, but out of love.  I grew and matured, why? Because I had to. I had to seek the divine with no strings attached, no bargains, and minimal tantrums. I trusted the Source of all things and devoted myself to it.  Thanks to “Ali Goyam,” I have left of the business of making “songs.” I now am interested in creating experiences. 

All in all, the completion of this piece healed me. 

I think it could heal you, too.