Posted inArt

Party of the people

High culture and TV talent competitions rarely go hand in hand. In fact, one is often considered the antithesis, even the destroyer, of the other. How then, asks Gareth Clark, could a TV talent show be the inspiration for the creation of the UAE’s first Nabati Poetry Academy

The answer lies in TV shows such as Million’s Poet and Prince of Poets (currently shown on Thursdays on Abu Dhabi TV and the Poetry Channel). Both are projects of the Abu Dhabi Authority for Culture and Heritage, fi lmed live at Al Raha Beach Theatre and broadcast to an estimated 30 million people around the Arab world.

For the uninitiated, these programmes combine all the starry, neon razzamatazz of Western shows like Pop Idol and X Factor with the earnestness of a Nobel Laureate prize-giving ceremony, wherein the emotional bullying, gushing and crowd-baiting of messrs Cowell and Walsh are replaced by a panel of academics who praise rhyme, form and imagery.

Professor Sultan Al Amimi, panel member and founder of Abu Dhabi’s new Nabati Poetry Academy, sums up their achievement: ‘The shows reveal the true abilities that poets in the region possess and refl ects them on an international stage,’ he says. But is it the poetry or the glamour of reality TV which has led to the success of these shows?

‘Poetry in the area was initially very popular among the people,’ Sultan Al Amimi asserts, ‘the shows just made poetry available to the masses. It reaches people all over the Arab world and makes them a part of the poetry, a part of the competition. Everyone can relate to the poems in one way or another, and it captures the hearts of viewers old and young, rich or poor.’

A live, televised, open poetry competition – it is something unique to the Arab world. Whereas Western vehicles such as Pop Idol have flourished in the Middle East, other reality TV programmes like Big Brother were pulled long before their runs could fi nish. But in its blend of Western showmanship and traditional Arabic culture, something beyond the TV ratings race has emerged.

Thanks largely to Million’s Poet, the people of the UAE have been reacquainted with a traditional style of poetry known as Nabati. It is a poetry recited in the Bedouin dialect of Arabic, explains Sultan Al Amimi, and thus differs from classical poetry, which is written only in formal Arabic. Nabati is also poetry performed in the oral tradition and was never written down. It is often described as ‘the poetry of the people’, and the popularity of Million’s Poet (the show which championed this form) in areas with a strong Bedouin tradition is testament to its strong links within Arabic culture.

The history of Nabati is less that of rhythm and form, and more the story of the Arabian Peninsula. Many important events in Arabic history would otherwise have been forgotten had their telling not been set to verse. ‘It has been a signifi cant part of Emirati poetry for the past 300 years,’ Sultan Al Amimi tells me, ‘and at a time when no one went to school or was getting an education, it was the only way to learn and pass down their experiences from the wars they fought to their daily life in the desert.’

Much of the challenge in creating a Nabati Poetry Academy has been trying to build a library, Sultan Al Amimi tells me. ‘We have been travelling throughout the region for over a year gathering as much as we could through video and voice recordings in the hope that it will all be transcribed and written down in books of poetry.’

The school is open to anyone and starts taking in students this month. It is already in talks with Oxford University in the UK (which also runs courses in Nabati poetry) about setting up a possible partnership. The aim is to collect, research and teach Nabati poetry and its oral traditions. The Academy will also promote cultural projects within the community, but the project is as much about creating something new for the future. Sultan Al Amimi has grand ambitions: ‘We want to bring in a new generation of poets who will revive the ancient tradition and start writing down and recording all of their Nabati poems for future generations,’ he explains.

Today, Nabati poetry’s most famous exponent remains Sheik bin Rashid Al Maktoum, a noted poet and scholar in the subject, but its study had, until recently, largely been ignored, except perhaps in the chilliest outer rungs of academic circles. It was partly only through the success of the TV shows that the Nabati Poetry Academy could fi nd an audience, and the response has been good, I’m told. Interest has come from across the Arab world, as well as from further afi eld in the US.

It is a curious story. The similarities between the oral tradition of an ancient Bedouin form of poetry and reality television are tenuous at best. However, in the sense of taking someone else’s life and experiences and placing them in a palatable, ‘artistic’ form, they do at least share a similar method. Nabati was, after all, poetry written in the language of the people. Have you never stood around the water cooler discussing last night’s TV? It’s what grinning sociologists call a ‘collective experience’. In Nabati, a story is told, learned and passed down; in television you have reruns – it’s not the same, I know, but I can’t help but return to something Sultan Al Amimi said about the appeal of the TV shows: ‘It makes [the people] a part of the poetry, a part of the competition’. Surely that is the very essence of Nabati poetry: to bridge the generations and make them a part of the story, ‘a part of the poem’. Is this, I wonder, why these shows have been such a success in the Middle East? Is TV the modern ‘poetry of the people’?

It is a curious story. The similarities between the oral tradition of an ancient Bedouin form of poetry and reality television are tenuous at best. However, in the sense of taking someone else’s life and experiences and placing them in a palatable, ‘artistic’ form, they do at least share a similar method. Nabati was, after all, poetry written in the language of the people. Have you never stood around the water cooler discussing last night’s TV? It’s what grinning sociologists call a ‘collective experience’. In Nabati, a story is told, learned and passed down; in television you have reruns – it’s not the same, I know, but I can’t help but return to something Sultan Al Amimi said about the appeal of the TV shows: ‘It makes [the people] a part of the poetry, a part of the competition’. Surely that is the very essence of Nabati poetry: to bridge the generations and make them a part of the story, ‘a part of the poem’. Is this, I wonder, why these shows have been such a success in the Middle East? Is TV the modern ‘poetry of the people’?

All pontificating aside, Nabati poetry is something unique and special to the Arab world, and is to be cherished. It represents an important part of the history, culture and tradition of the area, which has largely been ignored or forgotten by the population at large. That its revival should be partly brought about through reality television surely makes it all the more unique. But with the creation of the new Nabati Poetry Academy, it is a sure sign that ‘the poetry of the people’ has been returned to the people.

For more information about the Nabati Poetry Academy call 02 621 2419 or email aop/adach@cultural.org.ae. To learn more about the history of Nabati poetry visit www.sheikhmohammed.co.ae.