Danielle Dardashti has finally forgiven Los Angeles. Specifically, she has forgiven the Iranian American Jewish community in Los Angeles for what she experienced as a disheartening lack of embrace toward her father’s much-anticipated return to Persian music over 43 years ago, when Dardashti was only 10 years old.
His 1981 album, along with a concert for Iranians in L.A., should have been a runaway hit; her father, Farid Dardashti, was a beloved teen pop singer in Iran before leaving the country to study in the United States in the mid-1960s. His father (Danielle’s grandfather), Younes Dardashti, was a legendary singer in 1960s/1970s pre-revolutionary Iran who even performed for Shah Mohammad Pahlavi. The Dardashti name was and remains nearly mythical among many Iranians, especially Jews.
To understand Danielle’s heartbreak over those dashed high hopes and the incredible modern story of the Dardashti family, one must first listen to the exceptional six-part, audio-documentary podcast, “The Nightingale of Iran,” presented by the Jewish Telegraphic Agency (JTA) and distributed by PRX. The podcast is the brainchild of Danielle, an author and Emmy award-winning documentarian, and her sister, Galeet, a musician, composer and anthropologist.
Both Galeet and Danielle took to the stage at the Skirball Cultural Center on Sept. 17 during a lively program in which they discussed “The Nightingale of Iran,” and Galeet and her band performed songs from her latest album, “Monajat,” which strikingly blends Galeet’s voice with that of her late grandfather. Younes Dardashti was affectionately known as the “nightingale” of Iran for his ability to sing the unmetered vocals of traditional Persian Āvāz music in a way that still enthralls listeners.
In full disclosure, I moderated a brief Q&A with Danielle and Galeet following the discussion of the podcast and the concert, which offered attendees a multi-sensory experience, thanks to Galeet’s powerful voice, the talent of the musicians in her band, and the art of Dmitry Kemell, who created beautiful visuals that were simultaneously presented with the electrifying music.
The concept for “Monajat,” Galeet’s first Persian album, is itself unprecedented: Several years ago, Galeet found a cassette tape featuring her late grandfather, whose work was presumed lost or destroyed after the 1979 revolution. One unearthed recording featured her grandfather’s emotional recitation of the “Selichot” prayers during a Jewish fundraising event in Tehran in the early 1970s. The recording ends with Younes singing a poem called “Monajat,” most likely written by him in the style of the ancient Sufi poet, Rumi.
Galeet intertwined her voice with his, added everything from Persian tombak (a goblet-shaped, handheld drum) to a multi-stringed santur, a violin and a modern drum set, all played immaculately by her band, and “Monajat,” which means “an intimate conversation with the Divine” in Persian, was born. The album is a touching dialogue across time between a granddaughter and her late grandfather (the two never sang together while Younes was alive; he passed away in 1993).
Los Angeles was the first stop of the sisters’ tour, which also included Baltimore, Washington, D.C., Philadelphia and New York. “It felt full-circle,” Danielle told me about the Skirball event.
Julie Gumpert, senior program associate at Skirball, was inspired to invite Danielle and Galeet to the iconic cultural center when she attended an event with the sisters at IKAR last spring, and was introduced to the podcast. “As soon as I learned that they would be touring with the album, ‘Monajat,’ I was thrilled by the prospect of bringing them to the Skirball,” Gumpert said, adding that both the album and the podcast embody one of Skirball’s core institutional values: honoring memory.
Indeed, I was deeply moved to hear the haunting voice of Younes Dardashti — an orphan who grew up in Tehran’s Jewish ghetto at the beginning of the last century — at the Skirball Cultural Center, and to witness an audience that was divided equally between Iranian and Ashkenazi Jews. Events such as this must not be taken for granted; instead, they must be recognized for enabling space for critical Sephardic and Mizrahi stories, culture and history to take their rightful place in the tapestry of Los Angeles Jewish programs. For this, I applaud Gumpert and the Skirball.
Events such as this must not be taken for granted; instead, they must be recognized for enabling space for critical Sephardic and Mizrahi stories, culture and history to take their rightful place in the tapestry of Los Angeles Jewish programs.
Though Danielle and Galeet are based on the East Coast, they briefly lived in Los Angeles with Farid and their mother, Sheila, who is Ashkenazi, before the family relocated to New York. But Galeet, Danielle and their younger sister, Michelle, grew up with very little connection to their Iranian identity. When I observed during our Q&A that their family name nearly conjures a sense of musical royalty and that his granddaughters, by extension, are a critical link in a chain of connection with Iran for most Iranian Jews, Danielle responded, “That’s very ironic because we didn’t see ourselves that way at all.”
Neither Danielle nor Galeet fully fits either mold of Ashkenazi or Persian identities, resulting in an outsider-insider phenomenon that can never be escaped as long as an entire community connects with them as heirs to precious memories — memories from a land that was hijacked by extremists 45 years ago.
As a child growing up in the U.S., Galeet was not able to speak with her grandfather in a shared language. Before the revolution, Younes was the voice of Iran, but exiled from his former home after he and his wife made aliyah to Israel, it was difficult for him to even converse casually in Hebrew. “After the revolution, our grandfather was erased from history,” Danielle said in a sober tone.
During the Skirball program, the sisters noted that in the past five centuries, Jews have especially maintained traditional Persian musical traditions, and were relegated to the position of the “motreb,” or singer/entertainer for Muslim audiences. That historical fact is at the heart of “The Nightingale of Iran” podcast, which fuses storytelling and history in such a compelling manner that it rose to number one in Jewish podcasts, as well as to the top of Apple charts. To date, “The Nightingale of Iran” has been downloaded 175,000 times in 160 countries.
For Danielle, discovering a family secret while creating the podcast finally connected her with her Iranian roots. That unearthed secret was also the missing puzzle piece in her decades-long search for understanding and healing over the rejection of her father’s music among Iranian Jewry in L.A. in the early 1980s.
I have attended Jewish-related programs for many years in this city, but I have never witnessed anything as unique as the informal discussion between Galeet and Danielle that concluded the evening at the Skirball. When it was time to engage in audience Q&A, over half of the attendees who raised their hands offered personal memories about the Dardashti family, to the delight of the sisters.
“My mother was first cousins with your grandfather!” cried one woman. “I was at your bat mitzvah, Galeet! I am also a Dardashti!” said another. A man described how Younes sang at a family function many decades ago. “What did he sing?!” asked a stunned Galeet. One woman raised her hand and described having attended the “selichot” prayers that Younes led in Iran 50 years ago, the same prayers that Galeet used in “Monajat.” Galeet and Danielle were elated to hear personal stories about their grandfather and their parents.
And that’s when it struck me: Before my eyes, I was witnessing how a community was filling in the gaps for one family whose music and history is, for them, one of the last remaining connections to a country that has now become unrecognizable.
“Our L.A. concert was like a homecoming,” said Galeet. “That’s the heart of the Iranian Jewish expat community.” Regarding the unusually personal Q&A, she added, “It was like, ‘Danielle and Galeet: This Is Your Life.’” Galeet easily noted the significance of the event for her older sister, half-joking when she told me, “Danielle was redeemed.”
After the Skirball concert, the sisters sold “quite a few” of their father’s 1981 Persian music album on vinyl, the same records they discovered in their parents’ basement 30 years after Farid had recorded the album. Those records, with a vintage photo of their father, Farid, on the cover, were sold side-by-side with “Monajat.”
To listen to “The Nightingale of Iran,” visit nightingaleofiran.com. To download the “Monajat” album, visit galeetdardashti.com/monajat.
