♫ Fathi Otmani's 'The Most High' Is Yoga For The Soul
Posted by Zaufishan Heba-Saeed, nasheeds, pop culture, reviews, videos Thursday, September 29, 2011
Fathi Otmani's The Most High is simply yoga for the soul.
The Amsterdam born nasheed (Islamic music) artist recently created 'The Most High', an eclectic music video praising God, with support from Islamic Relief.
'The Most High' carries a message of taubah, repentance for listeners. It questions a Muslim's heart, which is meant to be in a cognizant state of "absent from thee, I languish still". The song recognises that sometimes you do not have the strength to read the Qur'an as ethereally as you used too, and performing aeronautics while praying has clearly become a thing of the past.
Then this dainty by Otmani comes meandering its way to your ears, and attempts to heal your grieving heart. I believe it does. Listening to the track and watching the video's overly-repeated waves crashing into the coastline - it can and does undo some of the niggling troubles that were captive in your mind. If only for a few moments.
Fathi's aim for singing these hymns was to show mainstream audiences the softer, musical side to Islam and that the religion does not have room for antagonism.
He says on his site,
"I hope that my efforts in making my music can bring at least a small amount of change in people’s perception of this beautiful Deen."
'Wa bashir as-sabireen - and good tidings for the patient', a sublime verse to take refuge in
The young Dutch switches from English to Arabic in both tunes, but The Most high is enlivened with a distinctive hip hop-ish beat. It is the song that could be played in the car and sung to with friends. On the other hand, Ya Rabbi is one you could listen to in a Robert Frost-ic journey of the soul, glistening harps, in the early morning, on repeat, and... you get the visual.
More musika:
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Ala Dergi Is Turkey's Vogue Magazine
Posted by Zaufishan Heba-Saeed, hijab fashion, Link-Love, magazines, Middle-East, muslim fashion, Muslim-Media, Muslim-News Sunday, September 25, 2011
Âlâ Dergi is Turkey's answer to the UK’s Vogue magazine
The fashion forward magazine, Âlâ Dergi, is becoming one of the most recognised Turkish publications despite its relatively recent debut in June 2011. Prevailing as a prospective market leader for Turkish women, the magazine specialises in modest Muslim style and trends.
Âlâ, (pronounced ‘Aa Laa’) is an Arabic derivative term meaning "superb, excellent" and is certainly a fitting name for an emerging frontrunner. The buzz surrounding the anticipated release of the modest style magazine saw a growth to over 70k on Âlâ’s Facebook fan page, notable Turkish press coverage and being stocked in elite Turkish bookshops. Not a bad feat considering the otherwise young age and new status of the magazine.
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| Magazine covers are sleek-chic |
This niche market, particularly with Turkey’s lack of a similar mag, is what ignited founders Volkan Atay and Burak Bier to form the concept of Âlâ Dergi.
Ironically, neither Atay or Bier are in fashion design. Hailing from a background in advertising, a photo interest for British Muslim magazine emel by its editor Sarah Joseph, lead to the interest in a similar Turkish flavoured lifestyle mag for Muslims.
The objective to become the go-to lifestyle source for Turkish Women was also one of the motivations for the founders. in fact, the magazine's Facebook description loosely states. “Âlâ is a world first for showing a passion for indispensable fashion, while offering the perspective of real Muslim women.”
"Hijab fashion" has been a debatable phrase in Muslim culture. Hijab is an Islamic ruling of modest coverage applicable to both women and men, calling for smart presentability without overt attention. The world of fashion however, is a "bare-all" industry. "What we call fashion tells us what we buy one season should be trashed the next season. This is incompatible with the Islamic code of faith," says Volkan.
Volkan also refutes using skin as a selling point:
"Fashion has variable rules such as revealing the arms and shortening skirt lengths. In a sense, Hijab also interferes in the form of standard covering. This is why it is wrong to call it 'hijab fashion'. Of course we are going to utilise fashionable details, but this does not mean the same thing as hijab fashion."
Âlâ Dergi's coverage clearly stands out amongst competitive 'zines
Given the fresh look-books and high couture, the alternate modest presentations in the glossy monthly would most likely attract women of other faith groups and fashion houses beyond Turkey. The crisp layout and sharp editorial photography is one of many assets that links the mag's regular topics - interior decor, women's health, child development, fashion focused interviews and cultural articles.
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| The editorial process: Âlâ is batch printed for stockists |
Volkan states he hopes to change this, "[By] establishing a magazine that explores, deals with fashion and modest attire. In fact, bloggers have successfully built a bridge between the manufacturer and consumer. However, they only target an 'internet oriented' audience, whereas a magazine can reach the entire targeted hijabi audience."
A fresh new face and anticipating its potentially explosive future, Âlâ Dergi is the creative magazine, focusing on making modesty a market leader in its competitive turf. It seems the "Eurovision" identity is no longer defining Turkey's developing platform.
For subscription details visit {Âlâ Dergi}
More awesome 'zines:
'Muslim Quarterly' Revives Halal Sexuality
EMEL On Cycling To Hajj
Hijab Makes A Return To Tunisia - Yvonne Ridley
Film Review: 'Paradise Now', A Palestinian Mission
Posted by Zaufishan Heba-Saeed, movies, palestine, pop culture, reviews Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Our newest writer for MUSLIMNESS Heba Saeed reviews the movie Paradise Now, directed by Hany Abu-Assad, about two young Palestinian men recruited to carry out a suicide bombing.
*Film spoilers.
Paradise Now leaves the viewer in a state of limbo, ironically. We're left with Said, one of the film's central characters, staring with his olive green eyes on the bus which he was once reluctant to board.
My brother didn't relish the film, "لم يستيسغه". He felt it was too surrealistic so as to arouse zeal and excitement, and too vague for the average viewer to understand the depth and history of a country like Palestine.
It did, however, draw my attention to one point. When one goes to Palestinian cinema, he or she usually has a transcendental expectation; one that diminishes the personal side of the story, if not utterly abjure it.
Many viewers, to the result of marketing, anticipate a Palestinian film to be full of rising and falling tones of patriotic soundtracks. The film must have a conspicuous chain of events and a plot that usually ends with the hero or heroine dead or injured; it isn't necessary to expose the daily habits of the characters. The roles in Paradise Now are appointed for one mission, so the film is expected to be a namby-mamby, strict and limited depiction of Palestinians as natives - not as real persons per se.
But the iconoclastic Paradise Now has visibly demolished all the laid-out, and long set-up traditions of Palestinian filmmaking. Not only that, but it belched out many a monotonous fable that may have pleased the ordinary audience with action scenes and dialogue, but would have made the production "just another film".
In Paradise Now we have serious scenes handled with shtick. Most pertinent of which is the scene of combatants recording their will before committing to a recruitment.
One combatant holds a gun, with a backdrop carrying the name of his affiliation and he's supposed to be delivering his last speech to his parents, to his enemies and all. In any other film, that scene would be very solemn, horrific, at least tear-spurring. But not in this one.
After the combatant gives his pre-death statement, they find the camera hasn't recorded anything so he has to reiterate his message and all the while his comrades are devouring sandwiches. The director obviously tried to cast different spots on the scene, to imbue the speech and view of someone who's going to perish by his own will with a nonchalant paltry of everyday life. It shouldn't be outright bodacious. It can be silly, too, blasé, regular and irregular alike. The combatants do not have to wear panoplies or masks; they can don tuxedos too, and shave their heads and appear good-looking and be mistaken as wedding attendants although in they film they're headed for a funeral.
The conscious part of Paradise Now cannot be overshot, too. The fighter Khaled is not an impregnable, impervious body of no appetite for life and no humane second-thoughts of death. He does think and rethink, and doubt the originality and the feasibility of what he's undertaking - a suicide mission.
Khaled's composed belief and his equanimity is shaken when he talks to his love interest, Suha. His enthusiasm is abated, and he starts to question his mission.
The notion ensconced under Suha's most meaningful speech attaches a terroristic substance to the fruit of Said and Khaled's mission. She thinks of resistance (a suicide attack) as another form of submission, acceding to the other by responding exactly the same way. Suha's Morrocan accent is sweet and musical; she is nonchalant and it fits her role as the questioning ego of the heroes.
Said, on the other hand, is still not convinced. So, we the viewers start to question his contumacy; is it inbred? Or is it, as Freud may postulate, a reflex reaction as to what his executed father did for working with the Israelis? He is definitely an affected man.
The father figure is held high by Said's mother who assures him that his role as an ameel, a collaborator, was only for their protection. A theme of treachery still lingers.
Khaled succeedes in presenting the typical zealot passions with the childish demeanour. He behaves in a kind of amiable spontaneity known only of madcaps like him. Said, on the other hand, hold more clarity within himself. He is discreet with others, low-pitched, and shows a little introvertness, unlike his friend.
Hany Abu-Assad did a good job making this film. He's worthy of his Golden Globe even if he doesn't believe it. And I believe Paradise Now is for now, not later.
Watch the trailer on YouTube {Paradise Now}.
By Heba Saeed, Palestinian Muslim living in Egypt
More movie love:
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*Film spoilers.
Paradise Now leaves the viewer in a state of limbo, ironically. We're left with Said, one of the film's central characters, staring with his olive green eyes on the bus which he was once reluctant to board.My brother didn't relish the film, "لم يستيسغه". He felt it was too surrealistic so as to arouse zeal and excitement, and too vague for the average viewer to understand the depth and history of a country like Palestine.
It did, however, draw my attention to one point. When one goes to Palestinian cinema, he or she usually has a transcendental expectation; one that diminishes the personal side of the story, if not utterly abjure it.
Many viewers, to the result of marketing, anticipate a Palestinian film to be full of rising and falling tones of patriotic soundtracks. The film must have a conspicuous chain of events and a plot that usually ends with the hero or heroine dead or injured; it isn't necessary to expose the daily habits of the characters. The roles in Paradise Now are appointed for one mission, so the film is expected to be a namby-mamby, strict and limited depiction of Palestinians as natives - not as real persons per se.
But the iconoclastic Paradise Now has visibly demolished all the laid-out, and long set-up traditions of Palestinian filmmaking. Not only that, but it belched out many a monotonous fable that may have pleased the ordinary audience with action scenes and dialogue, but would have made the production "just another film".
In Paradise Now we have serious scenes handled with shtick. Most pertinent of which is the scene of combatants recording their will before committing to a recruitment.
One combatant holds a gun, with a backdrop carrying the name of his affiliation and he's supposed to be delivering his last speech to his parents, to his enemies and all. In any other film, that scene would be very solemn, horrific, at least tear-spurring. But not in this one.
After the combatant gives his pre-death statement, they find the camera hasn't recorded anything so he has to reiterate his message and all the while his comrades are devouring sandwiches. The director obviously tried to cast different spots on the scene, to imbue the speech and view of someone who's going to perish by his own will with a nonchalant paltry of everyday life. It shouldn't be outright bodacious. It can be silly, too, blasé, regular and irregular alike. The combatants do not have to wear panoplies or masks; they can don tuxedos too, and shave their heads and appear good-looking and be mistaken as wedding attendants although in they film they're headed for a funeral.
The conscious part of Paradise Now cannot be overshot, too. The fighter Khaled is not an impregnable, impervious body of no appetite for life and no humane second-thoughts of death. He does think and rethink, and doubt the originality and the feasibility of what he's undertaking - a suicide mission.
Khaled's composed belief and his equanimity is shaken when he talks to his love interest, Suha. His enthusiasm is abated, and he starts to question his mission.
The notion ensconced under Suha's most meaningful speech attaches a terroristic substance to the fruit of Said and Khaled's mission. She thinks of resistance (a suicide attack) as another form of submission, acceding to the other by responding exactly the same way. Suha's Morrocan accent is sweet and musical; she is nonchalant and it fits her role as the questioning ego of the heroes.
Said, on the other hand, is still not convinced. So, we the viewers start to question his contumacy; is it inbred? Or is it, as Freud may postulate, a reflex reaction as to what his executed father did for working with the Israelis? He is definitely an affected man.
The father figure is held high by Said's mother who assures him that his role as an ameel, a collaborator, was only for their protection. A theme of treachery still lingers.
Khaled succeedes in presenting the typical zealot passions with the childish demeanour. He behaves in a kind of amiable spontaneity known only of madcaps like him. Said, on the other hand, hold more clarity within himself. He is discreet with others, low-pitched, and shows a little introvertness, unlike his friend.
Paradise Now is a movie to watch, but it ends with many unanswered questions. Said boards the same bus he planned to detonate with a bomb but didn't because of a boarded child. How has he changed? Where is the country heading? We do not know and we do not learn if resistance is merely a brutish process of bartering with violence for no significant outcome, or if it can bring about greater change.
Hany Abu-Assad did a good job making this film. He's worthy of his Golden Globe even if he doesn't believe it. And I believe Paradise Now is for now, not later.
Watch the trailer on YouTube {Paradise Now}.
By Heba Saeed, Palestinian Muslim living in Egypt
More movie love:
"To Catch A Dollar": Nobel Laureate Muhammad Yunus Banks On America
Movie: The Green Wave (Iran) 'Green is the color of hope, green is the color of Islam'
Seeing Islam In Avatar
Thread - The Women Of Afghanistan
