Donald Fortescue, Oakland

Don has a descriptive Tangents Turkey Music Tour blog with photos here.

Sandra Kelch, Oakland

The trip was so much more than just a music tour. Our days were filled with beautiful sights, great food, wonderful conversation, and exciting music. Istanbul was the perfect place to see where Eastern cultures meet Western. I loved wandering in the markets during the day, knowing we had great music to relax to in the evenings. It was a great experience and I would do it again!

Sandra’s blog with photos here.

Bryan  Tully, Barnes England

The trip we have been on and fashioned so expertly by Dore will be one I shall always treasure.  My appreciation of Turkish music has extended manyfold, from I must admit a tiny original base.  The CDs remind me most days of those wonderful times and one or two go beyond that.  As much as I didn't know that the Turks loved pasta so much and even made it for the Italian market, so I find that one of my CDs, "Tangolar" by Ibrahim Ozgur, (Kalan) is a repository of Turkish made and loved Tango music which went through a flourishing period before the second world war.  As is so often the case, it was minority musicians (in this case Jewish and Armenian) who exploited this rather niche area of creativity.  Ibrahim's songs are of the soft bluesy nostalgic type of Tango singing and really quite haunting.  Such serendipity.  I had such lovely conversations with everyone and none of them really finished.  So, if anyone travels to or thru UK and finding themselves at a loose end in London I hope they will feel free to drop in /stay over in our lovely little village of Barnes (duck pond and all) within the London Borough of Richmond upon Thames.

Just to add finally I particularly appreciated how Dore would just have to hear of some special interest by someone, but he would put himself out to see if that interest could be met.  Thank you Dore for introducing me to Tom Brosnahan.  His comments were very enlightening and also the few discrete words from his quiet ("Actually I'm an Atheist") friend.  At times Dore seemed to run himself into the ground for us to make sure we got maximum out of everything.

Sure If I go on, he's going to need a bigger size orange baseball hat.

Nancy Torrey, Bolinas

Byzantion. Constantinople. Stambol. Istanbul…

The city which still answers to any and all of these names is a City of Memory, its histories underfoot and overhead, offshore and hilltop, across the bridge or beneath a dome. It is a jostling place; pedestrians vie with taxis, trams snake through old caddesi (main streets), ferries cross-plow the Bosphorus, hawkers declaim in the Grand bazaar, the devout prostrate themselves on prayer rugs like tiles before the mihrab.

But always a respite is just a door or a side alley away. One can find a quiet moment in a mosque or a park alongside the Golden Horn, take lunch al fresco in a covered back street, scud about on a soapy marble slab in a hamam (Turkish bath), or bask in a bağlama solo in the Guitar Café.

All of the arts are celebrated in the City of Memory, none more so than music. Ottoman, Byzantine, Persian, Roma, Balkan musics --- all flourish here. Jazz, rock, hip-hop, pop, arabesque, electronica --- you can go there, too. Turkey is the ultimate sampler for East/West “Tangential” cross-pollination. You may listen to Selim Sesler, with 40 years of playing village weddings inside him, lay out on clarinet with his crisp jazz sextet. Or hear Cenk Erdoğan coax an old Turkoman folk song into the 21^st century with a soulful riff on electric guitar. Or hear him accompany Sumru Ağıryürüyen on some spontaneous vocalizing (“Turkoscat”?).