Virtuoso oud player Rahim AlHaj is something of a musical magician. Trained in both Iraqi Maqam and western classical music, AlHaj has managed to fuse the two together while keeping his Iraqi traditions at the core.

Bringing together an ecclectic ensemble of musicians from around the globe, AlHaj and his Little Earth Orchestra will take you on a mystical journey that will change the way you think about music. The performances on Little Earth (UR Music, 28 September 2010) have an immediacy that can catch you off guard at times, capturing your full attention with the strength of a gravitational force.

World music promoters Rock Paper Scissors said it best when they declared AlHaj's “vision” gets its “punch” from the “union of the bitter and sweet, the harsh and the soothing.”

The music is a genuine reflection of AlHaj's personal story and the worldview he has derived from it.

“In the 1980-1988 war between our countries, Iraq lost a million mostly young men, and Iran lost a million men. Yet even after all that wanton killing and destruction, people from those two cultures can make music together. We must figure out how to make music together before we become enemies, or we will prove ourselves fools. If we can hold that ideal high, as a principle, we can make it into fact, we will make it real.” AlHaj explains.

AlHaj's plan was to “create a musical confluence, a caravanserai for artists from around the globe.”

With the help and friendship of cultish American guitarists Bill Frisell (who has been called the Clark Kent of guitar) and Peter Buck of REM, AlHaj and his Little Earth Orchestra are bringing Iraqi Maqam and an assortment of world instruments to new audiences in America and around the world.

“It was a dream, to compose music for all the world,” AlHaj chuckles. “The challenge of the project was to do more than just get together and jam. It was not just for fun.”

The musical challenges of this global fusion are apparent in the first song, Sama'i Baghdad. “Though most sama’i are written for traditional Arabic instruments, I wrote it for a Western string quartet, but they have to play it in the Arabic way, including the special intonation and microtones—we have eight notes between B and B-flat” AlHaj explains. “It was unique, the first time this form was performed by Western musicians on classical strings.”

“The musicians use their own sound and environment—I don’t want them to imitate me—but they need to play the composition right, with the influence from the Middle East and the maqam,” AlHaj notes. “This music is composed music; we’re not just jamming. It’s all written.”

Born in Baghdad, Iraq, AlHaj began playing oud in his second-grade classroom. His teacher was impressed with his playing and gave AlHaj the instrument – an act that would start a life-long musical journey and an obsession with the oud. He spent every waking and sleeping hour with it. He even talked to it. This worried his father, but with the support and guidance of his mother, AlHaj dedicated himself to his musical craft, and by age thirteen he had become well known around Baghdad as a player and composer. After high school, he studied under Munir Bashir, considered by many to be the greatest oud player of all time, and Salim Abdul Kareem, at the Institute of Music in Baghdad.

The repressive Ba’athist regime of Saddam Hussein and the devestation of the Iraq-Iran war led AlHaj to became active in the underground revolutionary movement. AlHaj gave that movement its anthem by composing music for a poem written by a friend. The song, titled “Why?” spread like wildfire and was sung with seditious relish across the country. This led AlHaj to be imprisoned twice, in 1986 and 1988, where he was tortured in an unsuccessful attempt to extract information about the movement.

After being released from prison, he graduated from the institute in 1990 with a degree in composition, winning various honors. AlHaj also holds a degree in Arabic literature from Mustunsariya University in Baghdad—a degree that his father insisted he pursue as a condition for entering the conservatory.

Further pressures from Hussein's regime during the 1991 Gulf War caused AlHaj to fear for his life and he fled with the help of his mother, who sold her possessions to pay for false travel papers and to fund his escape into Jordan. His journey was a success, but AlHaj experienced "the saddest moment of his life" when his oud was confiscated at the border.

According to The New York Times, the oud itself is now an instrument in exile in Iraq, as religious militias threaten oud players, often confiscating and/or destroying their instruments.

AlHaj taught music in Jordan for 18 months but eventually fled to Syria to avoid further Iraqi threats. There, he met his wife, Nada, and made a comfortable life as a composer and musician, performing throughout the country and Europe. However, after eight years, with relations between Syria and Iraq improving, AlHaj once again found himself at risk.

Despite speaking no English he managed to establish himself in the United States as a political refugee, starting a new chapter of his life in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where he has lived since 2000, becoming a citizen and casting his vote in 2008.

A refugee worker found him a job at McDonald’s. “What kind of institute is that?” AlHaj asked. “Do they teach Arabic classical music there?” Desperate for time to practice, AlHaj secured a job as a night watchman, but that soon ended when his supervisor found him practicing his oud while on duty.

AlHaj then made a bold move and rented a hall at the University of New Mexico for a solo performance. The overwhelming response led to more concerts and collaborations with local musicians in New Mexico. Soon he was finding receptive audiences across the United States and internationally, playing to full houses in some of the world’s most prestigious halls, giving concerts to benefit Iraqi children, and talking to audiences about the oud and its history.

He was grateful for his new found freedom, but he opposed the American invasion of Iraq. He worries that “there is a soldier there, and I do not know if he is killing my brother.”

AlHaj returned to Iraq in 2004 to visit his family and friends and to bear witness to the destruction inflicted by the ongoing American occupation.

His continual efforts to promote peaceful understanding between the two countries and to speak on behalf of the oppressed have earned him recognition of politicians, religious leaders, veterans, and activists worldwide.