Navruz marks the spring equinox, when day and night are of equal length. It’s interesting that across this region it should be the equinox that is the most important festival. In prehistoric Britain, a long way to the north, the key moment must have been the mid-winter solstice, the point at which the days stop getting shorter and there is evidence that – although there may be many weeks of bitter weather still to live through – the sun and the summer will return. Structures three or four thousand years old in the UK, like stone circles or some of the splendid chambered tombs of the Neolithic period, are very accurately oriented towards the midwinter sunset, so that they catch the last light of the dying year.
In both cases, it’s about new hope and the return of life – a looking forward to the future that has its roots in mankind’s earliest history. I think it’s important to maintain those connections to the past, whether it’s through festivals like Navruz, through preservation of ancient buildings, or through continued engagement with musical tradition. I have greatly enjoyed learning about Uzbek classical music, including through listening to the fabulous singing of Munojat Yulchieva (one of those who took part in last week’s celebration) and, about a year ago, being privileged to attend a concert by a great master of Bukhara Shashmaqom, Ari Babakhanov, making a rare visit from Germany and representing a dynasty of musicians with more than a hundred years’ history. I was impressed by the huge enthusiasm of the audience and by Babakhanov’s energy. He looked as though he would have been happy to play all night. I’ve also heard excellent young instrumentalists and singers, and look forward to hearing more.