Rebetiko is a style of music in Greece, which incorporates many diverse elements and influences, into a relaxing and enjoyable blend, best experienced with the heightened assistance of cannabis and/or hasheesh. Its musical influences include a potent combination of greek folk, blues, turkish, gypsy, shepardi jewish, balkans, middle eastern, Indian, cannabis/opium infused tunes and often more than the occasional shot of ouzo or raki.
Of no surprise the music comes with a fascinating, interesting and at times tragic history. The music's influences reach back far into time, but in the 19th century the hard lifestyle of the greek farmers and their folk music, lent a good background for what would be a musical explosion in the urban Athens of the early 20th century. Such simple, but inspiring music with a touch of soulful left leaning social/political protest, as well as the music's associations with free living, foreigners, the mangas underground counterculture, the impoverished and seedy areas of Athens was just too much for Greece's uptight conservatives during the late 1930s. The fear of a potentially subversive and 'culturally degrading,' form of music, made itself felt to the country's right wing dictator at the time, Ioannis Metaxes. He sought to stamp out, and censor the genre. Then during world war 2 recordings were frozen by the fascist occupation of Greece.
The classic era and the height of Rebetiko during the 20s and 30s can be traced back to the tragedy of the Greco-Turkish war shortly after world war 1, when Greece taking advantage of the collapse of the Ottoman empire sought to regain ancient Greek territories that had long been incorporated into the empire. At the center of this conflict was the city of Smyrna, present day Izmir, located on the west coast of Turkey. Smyrna was a lively major port with a large ethnically Greek population, a gateway between east and west, falling within the borders of the diverse Ottoman empire. To Greek nationalists at the time reclaiming Smyrna was a raison d'etre in itself for war. To the inhabitants of Smyrna, many if not most had integrated centuries ago as Ottoman citizens and this and the land was a major source of their identity. Their identity had incorporated a myriad of influences flowing through Smyrna's port and outward along the caravan roads.
The war for Smyrna was a disaster. The city was almost completely devasted and the invasion of, to them the somewhat strange and foreign mainland Greeks, failed miserably. The result of the war was a mass expulsion of all Muslims in Greece to Turkey and all Christians in Turkey to Greece. Families were split apart, never to see each other again. Many would never see again their homeland, which they left behind only to lament it in music and song.
In Athens this massive diaspora, especially from Smyrna with all its influences led to the musical explosion known as Rebetiko. Although the nationalist dream had in mind uniting Greeks and their long lost compatriots, the new population was often looked down upon with contempt, seen as strange and as a threat by mainlanders. Lost in the urban maze of Athens with few jobs in site, many took to their one remaining muse and link to their heritage, their music. They also brought back with them a favorite plant, which had long permeated the near east: cannabis. In the hasheesh and opium dens, brothels and tavernas of 1920s and early 30s Athens, people lamenting the loss of their homelands, loved ones, and marooned in a foreign land, led to a new style of music being born. In a haze of smoke, and perhaps a few too many drinks, a person would start muttering about their losses or some other part of their lives, or something they found humorous. Others picking up on it would strum their instruments until the room would become alive with people dancing, swaying, laughing, having a good time and mourning. Through all their losses the spirit of the people stood out strong in their music.
One of the greatest figures in Rebetiko music was a woman by the name of Roza Eskenazy (pictured above), a Shephardi jew born in Istanbul, she grew up mostly in the once major Ottoman city of Salonike (Thessaloniki). She absorbed numerous influences around her and was inspired to become a dancer and a musician. At the age of 20 she moved to Piraos, the seedy port town of Athens. There she danced in cabarets and moved to folk and rebetiko. Becoming a symbol of the genre, she created over 500 songs in the 30s alone. In Greece in the late 30s however she became one of the main targets of the Metaxes regime's censorship especially for her song "When You take Heroin," which the regime tried to make an example out of. During the second world war she helped shelter and provide for Jews in Athens who were fleeing certain death in Thessaloniki. After the war and when censorship started to wear off, her career took off once again. As before the war, when it was over she travelled throughout the world playing her music.
During the 50s and 60s Rebetiko took off once again in Greece having a major revival, and although the genre has ebbed and flowed, it continues well into the present day. Of course, the music, instruments, people and stories have changed, but the spirit is alive and well and the music continues to inspire and to be enjoyed.
Samples:
Classic: Delias, Roza, Tasaous, Delias, Roza, Vamvakaris, Roza, Vamvakaris, Delias, Katsaros, Batis, Sample, Delias, "When the Hookah Fumes."
Modern: Gavalas, Sample, Sample, Sample,
Sample Lyrics:
Has it Ever Happened to You?
by Yorgos Batis (1935)
Last night in the dark, two secret policemen cornered me to search and take my hashish...
I fooled them...
They got mad and lay in wait for me
the next night and caught me...
Next morning I was up before the chief...
and so, mangha they'll try me and
the police will get some peace.
Spanish Zeibekiko (1934) Batis
I slipped away in a boat and went to Drako's cave
I saw three men stoned, lying on the beach
It was Batis, Arteis and Stratos, the lazybones.
Strato, fix us a narghile so Batis can smoke...
and Artemis...
he'll bring us hashish from Istanbul...
Toubeki from Persia...
Our Manghes are complaining (1936)
Our Manghes are complaining, as well as the aristocrats,
that no one brings them hashish from Istanbul.
Come here, mangha and smoke from our narghile, we
have Istanbul hashish in our den.
You'll hear tsaous play the bouzouki...
Beautiful girls will ready the narghile and keep watch..
Rich men, industrialists they'll all hear sweet notes...
all the spoilt brats will sit in the den
to listen to the bouzouki and get high...
For soon, in this life, even if everything is lost, there will always be hashish.
Merry Tramp (1930) Rosa Eskanzy
I'm a merry tramp, I stay out all night
at the cabarets of Athens and have a good time.
I get drunk on ouzo, smash all the glasses and dance the "tsifteli"...
dawn finds me in the hashish dens
where the dervishes play the lyre the outi and the baglamas
Junkies' Melody (1946)
Why do you ask me to know
when fires are burning around the manghes are smoking narghile...
I'm waiting for my turn to smoke
while I'm whistling the junkies' melody
Once I too was a kid
Once I too was a kid and a sweet flirt broke my heart. When I took her out, everyone would look at me, but she went off with another...
the pain has clouded my mind; my soul is in anguish,
Since then I've not wanted another I smoke a little hashish on the
narghile.
Camel Driver's Zeibetkiko (1934)
I see four friends all from Piraeus, smoking hashish
they took me with them to their hangout...
I see two people high on hashish sitting on the mat
One is playing bouzouki the other has a pipe...
they let me smoke as much as I like and play my baglamas.
When I came back from Pylos (1935)
When I came back from Pylos, I looked for a friend.
I went into the garden where I heard a baglamas being played.
I saw five young men lying on the grass
I looked them over to see
if I recognised them...
an old manghas asked me what I wanted "Company"
I replied, but where can I find it?" "Sit down with us..." He said.
The baglamas (1928)
In the upper districts, two dervishes are sitting and smoking joints...
it's the "loulas" and the "kalami"
that have reduced me to this sorry state...
the weed that a widow taught me to smoke
She turned me into a tramp... and an addict.
Drunk and Stoned (1936)
When I'm in a hashish-den and smoking all I want...
if I leave the den it's go to the tavern
for two glasses of the new wine...
When I smoke Toubekaki (1933) Vamvakaris
When I smoke toubekaki I smoke a pipe,
then I take the bouzouki and the manghes get high...
My Painted boat (1934)
My painted boat full to the gunwhales with manges...
dervishes and beautiful hashish... a narghile to smoke it with...
and a baglamas and bouzouki to put them in the mood...
Manghes with your... narghile playing and getting high on the
deck... another sitting over there to keep watch.
In Marigo's hashish den (1936)
In Marigo's hashish den... a secret policeman caught me
when I was high... I pulled a knife and cut his arm.
"The "loulas" strengthens me (1933)
Sometimes the "loulas" strengthens me, sometimes it weakens me,
other times it brings me down so that I can't talk to anyone.
My mind my thoughts wander here and there
and I feel death approaching...
I'll never be able to forget in this world, I'll never find peace...
Read more...
Miral, directed by Julian Schnabel, is based on journalist Rula Jebreal’s autobiographical novel about growing up as a Palestinian in Israel. It tells the first-hand tale of three women whose lives unfold during the first intifada, the Palestinian uprising against the Israeli occupation that began in 1987. Highlighting the remarkable work of a Palestinian woman named Hind Husseini – a woman who sacrifices everything to establish a school for refugee Palestinian girls in East Jerusalem and takes Miral in – the book and film show that hope still exists within a world of conflict. Bringing numerous elements of her own life into the story – Jebreal and her younger sister were taken in by Husseini after their own mother committed suicide.
