Umm Kulthum died in 1975. I had a passing acquaintance with the singing of this venerated Egyptian artist, but knew nothing of her life. I learn from this article by Tom Faber that Umm Kulthum’s singing was admired by western performers such as Maria Callas, Bob Dylan, and Robert Plant.
I also learn that her biographer Virginia Danielson, an ethnomusicologist, mentions Umm Kulthum’s “possible lesbianism,” saying that she showed little interest in men: “It is very, very likely she had relationships with women.”
Such discussions can be bumpy, and more so concerning deceased idols who span culture divides.
She is not a feminine singer, not at all. Her face lacks the prettiness appropriate to a woman’s face, and her lungs are extraordinarily large. Her breasts are massive, true; but her neck is thick as it encases her enormous throat. She draws, too, because her voice encompasses more than one sex, soaring high as the dome of the womb and falling as low as the well of the testicles. Her voice is saltiness and sweetness: an asexual voice, but a bisexual one, too. The lyrics to her songs are in a masculine voice, but one that encompasses the feminine.
The above remarks by Lebanese novelist Hoda Barakat are quoted by Iraqi writer Musa Al Shadeedi in the Jordanian LGBT magazine My.Kali referenced by Faber. The mention of Umm Kulthum’s possible lesbianism caused the Jordanian government to block the magazine’s website. Al Shadeedi’s comments reflect both temptation and reluctance to probe Umm Kulthum’s rejection of traditional gender roles.
“We don’t talk about strong or masculine women in our history… We only discuss [Umm Kulthum] as a singer… I don’t see how dragging dead people out of the closet will fix our society today… But we can ask: if she was lesbian, would that change how we see her? This might help people reconsider how they react to such taboos.”
In terms of reactions to such taboos, astonishing in its way is that of Columbia literature professor Edward Said, the Palestinian-American author of “Orientalism.”
“During her lifetime, there was talk about whether or not [Umm Kulthum] was a lesbian, but the sheer force of her performances of elevated music set to classical verse overrode such rumours.”
The remark is cited by Al Shadeedi from Said’s “Homage to a Belly-Dancer” in the London Review of Books (September 13, 1990). It is an extended tribute to Tahia Carioca. As Said warms to his subject, he makes this comment (not quoted by Al Shadeedi):
Whereas you couldn’t really enjoy looking at the portly and severe Um Kalthoum, you couldn’t do much more than enjoy looking at fine belly-dancers, whose first star was the Lebanese-born Badia Massabni, also an actress, cabaret-owner and trainer of young talent. Badia’s career as a dancer ended around World War Two, but her true heir and disciple was Tahia Carioca, who was, I think, the finest belly-dancer ever.
His remarks suggest that lesbianism and belly-dancing occupied two widely separate rungs of Professor Said’s sensibility.
(Tom Faber, “‘She exists out of time’: Umm Kulthum, Arab music’s eternal star,” theguardian.com, 2-28-20)
(c) 2020 JMN
Music Versus Dance
“Because it spans a very windy gap across the Bay, the Golden Gate Bridge is now effectively a giant orange wheezing kazoo.”
Citizens have weighed in disparately:
— Can someone explain me why is this eerie sound has been going on for an hour…
— So peaceful…
— So crazy but also kinda beautiful!!…
— We can hear this in our house more than three miles away from the bridge. It’s crazy making…”
Bridge spokesperson Paolo Cosulich-Schwartz has spoken knowingly:
“The new musical tones coming from the bridge are a known and inevitable phenomenon that stem from our wind retrofit project during very high winds… We knew going into the handrail replacement that the bridge would sing during exceptionally high winds… We are pleased to see the new railing is allowing wind to flow more smoothly across the bridge.”
The Guardian has analogized interestingly:
The noise is not the first time a suspension bridge’s physical qualities have raised eyebrows. Central London’s Millennium Bridge, for example, closed days after it opened in 2000 because of dramatic swaying. It reopened a year and a half later.
And I have decided conclusively:
If my choice is to cross a musical bridge or a kinetic one, I will choose the giant wheezing kazoo every time.
(Victoria Bekiempis, “‘A giant wheezing kazoo’: Golden Gate starts to ‘sing’ after design fix,” theguardian.com, 6-6-20)
(c) 2020 JMN