Miraculous hands
"The music of a people with an ancient art is eternal"
I was amazed when I saw the pictures of the musical instruments he crafted. Deciding to get acquainted with Balabay Balabayov, a master from Balakhani who intricately embeds the ancient history, traditions, natural resources, and legendary Gobustan experiences of our people into national musical instruments with mother-of-pearl inlay, had been on my mind for some time. However, our meeting was delayed for several months due to various reasons.
Finally, in recent days, I called Balabay and arranged to meet at the Music Academy named after Uzeyir Hajibeyov, in the department of national musical instruments headed by People's Artist Ramiz Guliyev.
Since Balabay did not arrive at the agreed time, I began the conversation with R. Guliyev. His first words were: "Balabay's hands are miraculous." He then sent off his students and spoke about Balabay with great enthusiasm.
"The music of a people with an ancient art is eternal. In this regard, our nation is fortunate. Thanks to the passionate dedication of many artisans who have immortalized our ancient crafts, these arts continue to live on. However, there is little care for the artisans themselves. We must support those who keep the eternity and beauty of the craft alive. Balabay is one of those artisans who is a source of pride for any nation. If given the right opportunities, his true capabilities would be revealed. Balabay's talent is a gift from God. It is as if each of his fingers creates its own artistic miracle.
He works on our ancient musical instruments with such precision and taste that one doesn’t just play them but can also envision the extraordinary power of this nation simply by looking at them. These instruments can 'speak' without even being played. It's as if these instruments share their 'sorrows' with their creator, Balabay, through his fingers. And now, that intimate secret lives on both in their intricate designs and in every string. It’s a pity for such artisans—our nation doesn’t value them enough."
At this moment in our conversation, the door opened. Balabay appeared, putting an end to my unease. Here is what he had to say:
"I started my art in childhood."
"My father was also a craftsman. He not only made musical instruments but also furniture. You could say he was my first teacher. Later, I learned many secrets of this art from master Fazil Huseynov. As for mother-of-pearl inlay, I taught myself. I also have a bit of a talent for painting, you see. There were other masters before me who applied mother-of-pearl to ancient musical instruments. However, creating images with mother-of-pearl on musical instruments for the first time—that's my work. Look at the patterns on our carpets. See how artistically and vividly they are crafted with creative thought. I want to create a similar world on musical instruments."
"I want to see the musical instruments I create displayed in our museums."
"The musical instruments I have created can be found in many places—in Germany, Turkey, Iran, Denmark, Switzerland, Sweden, India, and other countries. However, there are fewer instruments adorned with mother-of-pearl. This is understandable for several reasons. First, obtaining mother-of-pearl to work with is a challenge for me. We import it from abroad, which requires funds. I don’t receive any financial support from anywhere.
Second, working with mother-of-pearl demands exceptional precision, patience, and time. It takes me two years to complete one instrument. Even if such an instrument is finished, who in Azerbaijan can afford to buy it? Let’s be honest—what musician wouldn’t want to own such a unique instrument? They simply can’t afford it.
To sell a mother-of-pearl-adorned tar I made, I visited all our museums. I wanted the instrument to find its place in a museum rather than end up in a foreign one. I was even willing to sell it at a low price. Museum staff admired it and appreciated its beauty, but in the end, they returned it, saying, 'We don’t have the funds to buy it.'
Currently, the instrument gifted by the country’s leader, Heydar Aliyev, to Mitterrand is preserved in the Louvre Museum in France."
"After that, the French became very interested in me because they liked that tar so much. The French Ambassador to Azerbaijan even visited us personally. Since I don’t have a proper workshop, I work at home, which is actually very difficult. When the French Ambassador saw the conditions, he was astonished and said, 'I can't believe such an instrument was created in these circumstances.'
However, here in our own country, no one showed any interest in me..
The second tar I adorned with mother-of-pearl was gifted to our country’s leader, H. Aliyev, during the opening of a park named in his honor on his birthday. What can I say? In our country, there’s no one to truly value artisans and inspire them by appreciating their work."
"I have so many plans..."
"I'm 33 years old. Honestly, I've started to feel scared lately. I think to myself that I might never have the chance to bring all my plans to life. Even something as simple as buying mother-of-pearl is a challenge for me, not to mention the responsibility of providing for my family. I have so many plans...
I mainly work in the Eastern style. I dream of creating Nizami’s Khamsa on a tar, depicting the characters from The Book of Dede Qorqud on a saz, and crafting Fuzuli’s Leyli and Majnun on a kamancha. Even if I lack the resources, no matter what, I will find a way to make these dreams a reality."
Editor's note: He has turned his dream into reality by creating a trio of tar, kamancha, and saz: bringing Nizami’s "Khamsa" to life on the tar, Fuzuli’s "Leyli and Majnun" on the kamancha, and the legendary Dede Gorgud stories on the saz. Each instrument is adorned with intricate mother-of-pearl inlay.
"A master should also be able to play the musical instrument they create."
After resolutely stating these words, he falls silent and seems lost in thought. It appears that he, too, sees the vast gap between his dreams and his means. Perhaps that’s why the determination in his voice suddenly diminishes. He says:
"I’m currently working on a tar. I won’t sell it. Maybe I’ll never create another piece like this again."
"As the years go by, the light in one’s eyes fades too. If I can’t fulfill my dreams due to financial difficulties, then all my hope rests on my son, Hamid. But does it mean that by the time Hamid grows up, the situation in this country still won’t improve?"