Farah Al Shammaa was one of Aleppo's most active music production and distribution companies during the cassette era, founded in 1976 by Hassan Shammaa's father. Hassan managed the production company in its final years before it closed as a result of the war. In this discussion, Hassan Shammaa provides a personal perspective on Farah Al Shammaa's history, its cassette duplication and distribution operations across Syria and abroad, and the impact of copyright law and the digital shift on the family trade. He also reflects on the wider family network of cassette shops in Aleppo, the label's initial hand-cut cover designs, his own decades-long work archiving the catalogue, and his enduring relationships with the Kurdish artists he worked with. SCA | Yamen Mekdad: When and how was Farah Al Shammaa founded? Hassan Shammaa: Farah Al Shammaa was founded in 1976. It started in retail – you know, back in Aleppo there wasn't any modern equipment or things like that. The musicians would come to the shops to record a cassette, for example, or a live show. Muhammad Ali Tijo would come, and Omar Abu Al-Nour, a composer and a great Kurdish singer. He worked with us in the same company. The singers used to come to us, and they would record, we would write for them, we could compose and so on. That is how the business started and my dad was basically the original owner of the company. Actually, my grandfather had a different shop – not Farah Al Shammaa – in another part of Aleppo. It was a retail store too, at first. Yamen: He was selling cassettes? Hassan: This goes back to around 1969 or 1970, I don't know exactly. My uncle also had a shop called Shahba Al Shammaa – same profession. We had about six or seven shops, all next to each other. But wholesale really took off in the '90s. Yamen: 1969. So that means when your grandfather and uncle started, they were selling vinyl records. Hassan: Yes, it was records. Yamen: They would sell retail, they were not duplicating yet? Hassan: No, no, it was just retail sales. All the equipment was basic. Yamen: In 1969, when they were selling records, do you have any idea which production companies they were selling to, or which companies they were? Hassan: In Syria, there were no copyrights. They'd get a photo of the singer, for example, and an original record, copy it, and sell it. Our shops were in front of the garage, a strategic location with a lot of foot traffic. Yamen: But how did they copy the records? Did they have equipment for it – presses? Hassan: Of course, there were copying machines. I used to keep a few pieces of the machine in Aleppo, but I don't have full experience with them – I just kept some parts. There were about ten of them. Of course it wasn't a huge operation, sales were retail. I had them, hidden away, but whether they're still there now, I don't know. Yamen: Where would the original copies come from? From Lebanon, for example? Hassan: The Lebanese ones would come from Lebanon. There were also Kurdish studios. At that time, our focus was on Turkish and Kurdish, because we were located between the Afrin bus garage and the Turkish bus garage. The Turkish recordings would come from Turkey, of course, and the Kurdish ones through the singer himself, or sometimes from Turkey too. Yamen: So in 1976, when your father opened the Al Shammaa branch, his goal was to sell retail near the garage, focused on Turkish and Kurdish, and this is where the cassette business started? Hassan: Yes, of course. Yamen: And your uncle and grandfather were also working in the business, but with records? Hassan: But that was a different shop, in a different area of Aleppo. Yamen: But were they also specialised in Kurdish and Turkish music? Hassan: At that time, there was everything. Arabic releases were all available – of course you couldn't do without Oum Kalthum, Arab singers like Abdel Halim (Hafez), and Iraqi artists, it was all there. We even had an album in the archive by Sheikh Zakaria Ahmed from 1911. Our archive isn't small. Yamen: Were there any musicians in your family? How did the interest in dealing in music come about? Hassan: No, there were no musicians in the family. First, it started as a business, and then we began to take more of an interest in it. Production increased significantly, and we started dealing with major production companies. For example, there were studios in Damascus and Aleppo. There was a studio owned by Sayyar Ajri, who was an excellent musician. He opened a studio, and we used to record there. He was originally from Amudah, in Jazeera. He founded a studio in Aleppo, Ajri Studio, which was well-known amongst Kurds. He recorded for all the Kurdish singers. Yamen: So this means that you remember your father's store from your childhood? Hassan: Of course, I would go down to the shop regularly from around the age of 10. But I only really started working there around 1997, 1998. I'm telling you information that my family told me. Yamen: Did you like music yourself? Did you go to the shop to listen to the music? Hassan: Of course, definitely. There was a Kurdish singer named Akash Dildar. I would listen to him a lot. On a personal level – I'm not speaking professionally – they had some wonderful singers. Our main interest was in Kurdish and Turkish music, as I mentioned. After the internet came along, we focused our attention a little more on Arabic music. Yamen: How did the business evolve from a local and small-scale retail business to handling distribution across different regions? Hassan: If you remember, people from Azerbaijan used to come to Syria. They would take large quantities with them. Azerbaijani and Russians would come and take many cassettes. Yamen: Were they buying Arabic music or other things too? Hassan: Everything. They would take Arabic, Turkish, foreign – everything. And here, the work began to expand. Yamen: What year did this start? Hassan: In the 1990s. Yamen: Do you know which countries people were buying from? Hassan: We had customers from Azerbaijan, Australia, from Sudan. It was a mixture, not confined to any one place. Yamen: What about the Soviet countries, Georgia for example? Hassan: Georgia too. Of course, these were not regular customers. A dealer would come and take two hundred, four hundred cassettes. Of course, back then, three hundred cassettes on those old machines was good business. Yamen: What year did you leave retail and start manufacturing in large quantities? Hassan: In massive quantities, around 1998 onwards. But before this in the nineties, we were already averaging 40,000 to 50,000 cassettes a month. Yamen: Before you entered that period of production, a singer – for example, a Kurdish singer from Amudah or from Tal Tamr or from Turkey – would bring you their cassette to have it copied at your shop, right? Hassan: Correct. Yamen: How did this process work? Why did they come to you in particular? You would take their master copy and duplicate it? Was there any financial compensation to the artist? What we've learned from the artists we've spoken to is they came to you as a way of releasing their music. Hassan: The cassette was given freely by the artist. There was no money involved, but it was handled through a studio. We had agents, and we distributed the artist's work almost all over the world. Yamen: The world? Hassan: Almost. I had clients outside the country, for example from Australia, Lebanon, Syria. I had strong agents like Abdullah Al-Rawi in Jazeera, Musa Muhammad in Qamishli, Tal Tamr. Hasso Youssef who was an artist in Ras Al Ain, and Wajih Al-Sheikh in Hassake. In each region of Syria I had a dedicated agent. Yamen: And where were your clients outside Syria? Hassan: I had a permanent client in Lebanon, I had clients in Iraq – in Erbil, Sulaymaniyah, Mosul, Baghdad. That was for Iraq. People would come from abroad. Not regular clients, but different clients each time. From Australia, once from Chechnya, many different places. Yamen: Were these specialised music dealers? Hassan: No, of course they had their own stores that sold cassettes and CDs. The musician, singer and artist Musa Muhammad was from Tal Tamr and he is currently in Austria, and my friend, we're still in touch… Yamen: So, artists who would come to you, for example the Turkish or Kurdish artists, because of your strategic location in front of the bus garages that serve different regions. They'd bring their recording, or ask you to record them in a studio, at their house or at a wedding. And they'd bring a studio photograph right? Hassan: Yes, right. Yamen: What would happen next? Hassan: Of course, I'd make a design for the cover. Yamen: How did you create these designs in the nineties? Hassan: This was 1992, 1993. There was only basic equipment then. I'd cut the picture out by hand using scissors. Yamen: Were you working on it alone, or was there a designer? Hassan: After 1999 I became the designer – I took a course and learned Photoshop. Yamen: But before that, you were designing by hand? How did you do that? Hassan: As I mentioned, we would cut out the singer's picture and make a background for him. It was a manual process. Yamen: So you'd cut the image out, write the name and details by hand, and then you'd copy it in the printing press right? Hassan: Or, for example, the Turkish covers would arrive already prepared. As for the Kurdish singers, they had many albums and sales were low, the numbers weren't astronomical. We'd take a photograph of the artist, and type the cassette information using a typewriter. We would make a copy of the main image. Yamen: The covers were in black and white? Hassan: No, the pictures were in colour. The text was black and white. Yamen: So you were one of the biggest companies producing and distributing Kurdish music in the region – perhaps Sallama too? Hassan: Sallama too, may God have mercy on him, his father passed away, our friend. May God have mercy on him. Yamen: God bless his soul. Both of your companies focused primarily on Kurdish music. Who else was there? Hassan: For Kurdish music, there was only Sallama and ourselves. Yamen: What about the Assyrians for example, since they are from the same region, why didn't you work with those communities? Hassan: Assyrian music wasn't in as much demand in our shop. But my uncle Talal Shammaa was the owner of the Shahba label (Shahba Al-Shammaa Company). He was in charge of Assyrian music. His business was Shahba Al-Shammaa, and we were Farah Al-Shammaa. Yamen: Shahba was a great company. So, an artist would come to you from Turkey, from eastern Syria, with a completed cassette and hand it to you. After you duplicated it and designed a cover, you would sell it in your own shop and distribute it to other distributors in each governorate? Hassan: Back then, before 1997, I had around twenty to thirty customers in total. In 1997, they became agents in Qamishli, Tal Tamr and those areas. We expanded and our production reached 13,000 or 14,000 pieces a day. After 1997, 1998, there was a person named Muhammad Zainou Al-Samman who also worked with us. He worked a lot with us during that time. He was Kurdish, and so spoke better Kurdish than we did. Amer Abu Al-Nour also worked with us – he himself is a composer, and was 15 years old then. Yamen: What was his role with you? Hassan: His role was the same as any other of our workers, but at the same time he was first and foremost a singer and composer, like his father. Yamen: So from that point the distribution network began to grow. What caused that increased demand in 1997? Hassan: At that time our production was not small – around 40,000 to 50,000 pieces. But external customers began to come to us, and so demand increased. Yamen: From where? Hassan: The first customer came to me from Lebanon, from Sabra and Shatila. He had a centre and would buy astronomical quantities. We'd joke with him: where are all these even going? Are you throwing them in the trash? Is Lebanon really big enough to hold all of this? We finally had to tell him to go to the Sallama label, and to take half the quantity from him and the other half from us. Yamen: What was he requesting? What kinds of things would he take? Hassan: He would certainly take Turkish and a lot of Kurdish, a lot of pop music, popular singers like Omar Souleyman, Lebanese of course. Yamen: And his business was in Sabra and Shatila? Hassan: His name is Yasser Nasser. He used to take huge numbers – he wanted three thousand cassettes for himself every day. Yamen: He'd go back and resell them? Hassan: Of course, he's a wholesaler. So at that point we expanded, and then we started getting customers coming from Iraq too. Yamen: When you were outputting 40,000 to 50,000 cassettes a month, how were you duplicating them? How did it evolve from the days of retail production to this? Hassan: In the retail days, we sold 300 cassettes a day, which means an average of 10,000 cassettes a month. Yamen: How did you copy them back then? Hassan: We were using slow rotary machines, not the fast ones. The recording was slow – there were ten or twenty slots, and it would produce ten copies, half fast and half slow. They would use the original Japanese master cassette, and we would copy onto Andalusian Panasonic cassettes. They were good quality. Yamen: As demand increased, how did you start copying faster at bigger quantities? Hassan: Then came the newest machines, numbered 310, and their accessories 311. So we had 15 or 20 machines, and they'd be running 24 hours a day in the workshop, day and night. Yamen: How many copies could this 310 machine make? Hassan: The ten machines made 40 copies every four minutes. Yamen: Across 24 hours of work! Hassan: There were pauses of course, and downtime for each machine, like the modern rotary machine. We would give each one a break. Every eight months, of course. If the machine broke down, we didn't repair it like other companies would. Sawt Al-Hafez and I would throw away machines and get new machines. Yamen: Ok, you didn't have time to repair them… Hassan: So much use takes the life of the machine, so we would sell it, throw it away or replace it. Yamen: Where was the copying done? In your store by the garages? Hassan: The Bab Faraj store was the distribution centre by the clock tower, and I had a warehouse or workshop next to it. There were four rooms there, separate from the store. Between the shop and the workshop we had about 23 workers. Yamen: What year was that? Hassan: From 1998 to 2003, 2004, 2005. Yamen: So there were 23 workers, and you were running operations almost 24 hours a day – was there a day shift and a night shift? Hassan: At night there would only be 3-5 people in the workshop. Yamen: What work would they do? Hassan: For example, they would restock, organise and arrange the stock. The cassette duplication machines would be running too. Yamen: Let's take a step back to when you started working in 1976 – were you selling more cassettes than vinyl records then, or the same? Hassan: On this subject, I have absolutely no idea about cassette sales at that time. My grandfather's shop was located in the Sabaa Bahrat (Seven Fountains Square) garage. They told me that our sales were astronomical because people from the countryside and the city would pass through this garage, and our business was well-known. City people would come there, those from rural Aleppo, rural Idlib, would also often come there. Then Al Shammaa in Sabaa Bahrat opened in Bab Al-Faraj. Yamen: Were there garages in Sabaa Bahrat? Hassan: Before the demolition, there was a project called Bab Al-Faraj. Our shop was part of that project. It was demolished to make way for the Sheraton Hotel street. That was Bab Al-Faraj, and they gave us a replacement store in Sabaa Bahrat. Then later, we went back to Bab Al-Faraj. Yamen: You returned to the garage in Bab Al-Faraj? Hassan: The store was in the garage at Bab Al-Faraj. This was the Afrin garage, then it started hosting normal shops, trading businesses. Next to us were two other shops, including Wasim Kanjo. These big stores were also garages. Everyone received travellers from different parts of the country. For us, for example, the Afrin garage was right beside us. Yamen: Did these other shops like Kanjo also sell cassettes? Hassan: No, those were normal garage stores. The shop was owned by someone, but it was essentially a bus garage. The Afrin garage was below Saqba Alsahel in Aleppo. Yamen: In 1998 demand increased, and requests were coming from Iraq, Azerbaijan, Georgia. What kind of requests were these, were they mostly asking for Syrian and Kurdish music? Hassan: Buyers would take Arabic, Western and Kurdish music with them. It would depend on what was hard to come by – of course, rare works by Turkish singers like Ibrahim Tatlises. These popular singers were in high demand. For example, when we would release new songs by (Ibrahim) Tatlises or Mahsoun Karam (Mahsun Kırmızıgül), there would be a frenzy in Aleppo – they would sell out within the same day. Yamen: Was it hard to keep up with the demand? Hassan: We were always on top of it during this time, thank God. Yamen: After 1998, when did CDs start arriving? Hassan: It was all on cassette then. By 2004, 2005 the demand for CDs began, but they sold lightly. The whole world still had cassette players in cars, even Iraq was still working on cassette. Then after 2006 CDs became more available, and by 2007 they were in frequent use. Even now, there are people who say they love cassettes, it still has a special status. Especially for those who like to listen to rare songs that weren't released on CD but were exclusively on cassette. Yamen: What about Iraq? Hassan: Iraq bought a lot from me, especially Mosul, Erbil, Sulaymaniyah. We had good distribution centres there handling vast quantities. Yamen: Do you remember the first productions you made, the first cassettes you worked on? Hassan: You mean the names of the singers? Yamen: The singers, or the types of music. Hassan: I can't remember the singers. The problem is that you're talking about a large archive. We started with different styles – we had Arabic, Armenian, foreigners, Kurdish, Turkish – a large archive. I had an archive of Ibrahim Tatlises which you may not be able to find even in Turkey. Yamen: When did you start signing contracts with artists, and when did you start using copyright with cassettes? Hassan: After 2004, when the intellectual property rights law was introduced. Yamen: What year was that? Hassan: Around 2003, almost 2004. But the rights were only for Arabic music. Yamen: How did this law affect your work at the time? Hassan: This law greatly influenced our work. Why? Because companies outside Aleppo, for example in Damascus, especially in the Arab market, started bringing new things in. Yamen: How? Hassan: For example, when a company like Panorama in Damascus entered the market, we were already agents for other companies as well as agents for our own company, Farah Al Shammaa. Yamen: Did Panorama and other companies enter the market after the law was introduced? Hassan: No, they were already in the profession, like us. In Damascus for example, companies like Rotana and Music Box took over the market. These big companies were from Lebanon and the Gulf, and so their archives were certainly bigger than ours. They had exclusive rights to singers like Najwa Karam and Fares Karam. At that time, the Arabic music market was somewhat controlled, but in the Kurdish market, some artists were ours and others weren't. We didn't have 100% control, but we owned the rights to major singers like Adnan Delbren, Ali Tejo and Ali Kaber and Akash Dildar. Yamen: Were there financial returns here, and did the law impact your income? Hassan: Of course, the procedure here wasn't free. We made cassettes and albums for them every year, but the amounts weren't large and the returns not so high because there were no Kurdish rights in Syria. As they say, I paid my money to the sea – I invested my money with no promise of return, because no one was protecting Kurdish rights. Even now, no one protects Kurdish rights. For example, there were albums for many artists, around 400 to 500 Kurdish artists between Qamishli, Jazeera and Afrin. They were great singers, and honestly, they deserved much more in return, but the situation in Syria didn't make it possible for us to give them a larger amount. For example, we signed a contract with Ali Tego and with Ali Kaber, and gave them a symbolic fee. It wasn't huge, but it added up to a significant number. Yamen: Where did you record that cassette? Hassan: The cassette was made at Sayar Ajri, and Abdullah Al-Rawi managed them in Qamishli and the Jazeera. Yamen: Did he record for you? Hassan: Yes, in Aleppo at Sayar Ajri's studio. Yamen: Did you have an agent who did the recordings? Hassan: Yes he had his own studio with top musicians, and he himself was a buzuk player. We also worked with Shiro Manan, who had a studio, and Mahmoud Al-Khalidi who was a guitarist and also had a studio. Yamen: So you would record artists there, pay the artist and the studio, then copy and distribute the recordings? Hassan: Yes, of course, that was after 2003 or 2004 Yamen: And had you started working on CD at that time? Hassan: Yes after 2007, the store sold only CDs and no one asked for cassettes anymore. In 2007 we started converting cassette-only releases to CD. We're talking here about the rare archives, things that were not available on the market. Yamen: Of course, the rare works. You told me that the main reason for collaborating with Turkish, Kurdish, Assyrian and Armenian artists was the geographical location of the business? Hassan: This started by chance. Yamen: You've become an important reference for this kind of music, which means that those artists would come to you, and those who wanted to buy those artists who would also come to you. So your market grew. Hassan: We had speakers outside, in front of the Bab Al-Faraj store. People passing by would hear a singer that was unknown, and hear that he had something special, and through that he would become famous. Yamen: So you would affect the general public taste. Hassan: Yes. Yamen: Were there any problems playing Kurdish music through the speakers? Did you ever face any issues? Hassan: Of course. Before we became their agents, the companies from Damascus would report that we had made violations. I mean, in the end, they didn't find anything other than the Holy Qur'an. Yamen: Can you explain more? Hassan: They reported many violations, for example, about Abdul Basit Abdul Samad (a noted Egyptian reciter of the Qur'an) Yamen: What would have been the problem if you had a recording of the Holy Qur'an? Hassan: Copying it was forbidden. I had to purchase the rights from the copyright owner. Basil Hassoun was Rotana's agent. We violated the rules, and others violated our copyrights. Both sides disagreed on this issue. But like I said, it was a new thing. Yamen: Were there these kinds of copyright and trading laws for Kurdish music? Hassan: No, there was no problem there, but there were specific singers. Yamen: Muhammad Sheikho? Hassan: We didn't have a problem with Muhammad Sheikho. There was an issue with Sivan Perwer. There was also a singer who changed his name – I don't remember his name because I didn't deal with him, At the time, owning one of his records was like being caught in possession of drugs. Yamen: To that extent? Hassan: Yes, the military immediately went after him. I mean, there were some Kurdish names you weren't allowed to work with. Yamen: As long as it wasn't political, it wasn't a problem? Hassan: Yes, there was no problem with Muhammad Sheikho. Sivan Perwer even had the highest sales in the region, not only in Syria. He sold vast numbers, and we used to secretly sell his records outside Syria, not just within Syria. Yamen: You would copy and sell outside of Syria. Hassan: We sold it outside of Syria. Yamen: Well, tell us about the Assyrian and Armenian music you worked with. Did you work with Gomidas and Garo Band? Hassan: I didn't work with them but carried their albums and sold many of them. There were many Assyrian singers, but I didn't produce for them and don't own any of the rights. Yamen: You got them through your uncle's Shahba label? Hassan: Yes I got the albums from my uncle, but retail was the main focus. It's true we sold very large quantities of cassette, but it was retail that made our name, not wholesale. For example, Chinese music, many different kinds of music. This story goes back many years, I can't remember everything now… Yamen: Where did you buy the copying machines and blank cassettes? Who supplied your essential equipment and printing materials? Hassan: For the machines, there was an agent in Damascus named Nahlawi. He worked for the rotary machines Al Watary company, and we got our machines from him. As for cassettes, there was an agent for Andalusi named Maurice Asmar. His cassettes were of a very good quality, second only to the Japanese. Imad Hanawi also established a factory in Syria. Yamen: Would you buy from the factory in Syria? Hassan: We bought from him for a while. He also imported from Taiwan and India. That goes back years, and my cassettes are still available in Damascus. Now I've switched to CDs, but kept the cassettes Yamen: Do you still have warehouses in Aleppo? Hassan: Yes of course. At the moment, I've left it in charge of people in Aleppo, because I can't get there myself. I have appointed people to start organising it all, but it will take time. These cassettes need to be left in a room to dehumidify them from the warehouse conditions. This is for sure. This means placing it in a warm room at a certain temperature and leaving it there for 10-15 days so the moisture can evaporate. Yamen: So this might take months, for example? Hassan: The archive is large and stored in boxes, but items are not organised, like this box belongs to this person, and this box belongs to another. Each box contains many different things because they were packed during wartime. Yamen: Tell us about printing the cassettes covers. When you were manually designing them, where would you copy them – before you used computers? Were you using offset printing presses? Hassan: All the printing machines we dealt with were offset printers. I would design and colour-separate everything by hand. Then I would take them to the printers, and we'd print 2000, 3000 pieces at a time. At that time, the plate had space for 21 cassette covers. Initially it only had space for 10, but then it increased to 21. Yamen: Twenty-one different images? Hassan: Yes. So I would print 2000 or 3000 pieces, depending on which artist it was. Yamen: We spoke to a man named Maher Dukhan. He also worked in Aleppo, I'm sure you know him. He was telling us about the design and printing process of cassettes in the early days, before the spread of computers and Photoshop. It was a real craft, it depended on those who could print and design. Hassan: Maher Dukhan (Abu Adnan) lives in Turkey, he's a friend of mine. He was the first to start his own company in Khalidiya back then. He is a very kind, wonderful person. He was responsible for design during this time, and he was the first one to do it correctly. Yamen: He told us about how design influenced him. I mean, you had copying machines in your shop, you had a lot of cassettes, and you had many artists coming to you to distribute their cassettes. Your job was also about printing, right? Hassan: He used to design and sell covers, not for me. I would deal with him for things I didn't have. I'd take a few pieces from him and design and print myself. Yamen: When you were designing and printing for yourself, what was the most costly part of the process? Was it in the printing? Hassan: No, for me I was focused on wholesale distribution and large numbers. For the covers, I would print a thousand pictures of the singer. If 50 of those were sold, that was fine with me. For example, Najwa Karam sells 5000 to 15,000 copies on the first day. The cost of the covers was not a problem to me. But the problem arose after 2004, 2005, when the CD arrived and demand for cassettes dropped. The warehouses were stocked with 400,000 to 500,000 cassettes. At that point, it started resulting in a loss. Before that, there weren't any losses. Yamen: How did the business cope when the CD arrived? Hassan: We would sell cassettes to Iraq. There wasn't much demand for cassettes, and so the price was symbolic of course. The cassette was on-demand, meaning that if someone wanted their music on cassette, if they wanted 100 copies, we would duplicate it for him. Yamen: And you had the masters? Hassan: I had the masters. But with CDs it was a different approach. When the silver discs (CDs) appeared in Damascus, Damascus took over that market. In Aleppo, no one managed to do that. Yamen: How many copies of a cassette would you make on average. For example, with Ibrahim Tatlises and Muhammad Sheikho, how many copies would you make for a new release? Hassan: When Ibrahim Tatlises released his album, 100,000 cassettes were sold in the first month. Yamen: Where were these 100,000 copies sold? Hassan: Across the whole of Syria, Lebanon. The Jazeera and Lebanon took many. Iraq too. You know we have many Turkmens in Syria; in Aleppo there are many Turkmens like Halouk, Islam Pasha, especially at the borders. So I went there, and made a wholesale arrangement with Turkmen. One would take ten pieces, another would take 50 pieces, and another would take 2000 pieces. Qamishli and Damascus used to take 10,000 cassettes from me on the first day, then ask for more. Yamen: Ibrahim Tatlises had the most sales. Did anyone sell more than 100,000 copies a month for their new release? Hassan: Ibrahim was number one. But there was one album that sold more – the album by Amer Abu Al-Nour and Fatima Al-Ali. These were popular Kurdish singers. Amer released a popular Arabic cassette, with his own lyrics and melodies. So that sold more, over a million cassettes were sold in the first two years. Yamen: What was the secret of his success in your opinion? Hassan: His lyrics were simple, his melody was very popular, and Hat Aldeleh Abu Rami, Soub Alqahweh, Hala Wallah Bwlad Amame ("Pass the cup, Abu Rami, pour the coffee, welcome to my uncles' country") – I mean, where did he get those words from?! I remember the album lyrics so well because we listened to it so much back then. So it sold astronomically. Then there was an album by Radwan Dogan with Omar Abu Al-Nour that also sold over 100,000 cassettes. Yamen: Where is Amer Abu Al Nour now, and is he still making music? Hassan: In Istanbul, Turkey. Yes, of course, he is an artist and that is his main field. His profession is his art. The artist Ismail Mohamed also used to come to us. They all had many records, and sold a lot, but the one that surpassed Ibrahim Tatlises was Amer's album alone. Yamen: A million copies in a year. Hassan: Maybe more. A million might be an understatement. Don't forget that many companies were making copies too. Yamen: What year was that album released? Hassan: The album came out in 2003 or 2004. It was definitely out by 2004. Yamen: And you signed a contract with copyright? Hassan: We have a very close relationship with Amer Abu Al Nour. I mean, he loves us – he named his first son after my father, and his second son after me, so our relationship is very strong. Abu Al Nour and I signed a contract. Everything he wrote for Kurdish artists he released through us. Yamen: As lyrics? Hassan: Yes, as lyrics. So even if the singer sold to another company, I had an upper hand legally. But we weren't problematic, I didn't like conflicts. Yamen: As the law changed, and the era of litigation appeared, did it ever reach a point where you had to legally claim your rights? Did you ever get anything out of it? Hassan: I was good at litigation. Yamen: So the law was introduced in 2003, lasted for two years, and then suddenly things were lost. Hassan: When the law was withdrawn, things fell apart. For example, during this period we invested around 15 million dollars. Around 300,000 dollars for each contract. Compared to Europe, it's not much. But for Syria, 15 million is a lot. I mean, it was an astronomical number - this figure I've given is just an example, not the real figure. Yamen: Can you tell us more about this period? Hassan: During this time we bought many contracts. But in the end, the state withdrew its support. Yamen: Who were these contracts with, which artists? Had you started working with Arab artists by then? Hassan: I had contracts with the well-known singers Mohamed Mounir and Walid Agha. Ismail Agha, Salim Al-Wafi. Artists from the Jazeera like singer Omar Souleyman, poet Adnan Jabouri, Abdul Razzaq Jabouri, Daham Al-Musa. All their contracts and rights are held under my name. Yamen: How much would you pay for the contracts? Hassan: Each was different. Some would be 1000 dollars, others for 2000 dollars, not including recording fees. During this time, the singer would agree, for example, not sell their cassettes to another company. So it was in their interests that their cassettes were distributed as widely as possible. There was exclusivity in this regard. For example, my third uncle specialised in Russian music and dealt in Russian albums. He was my eldest uncle and founded the business. He had a shop specialising in Russian and foreign music. Yamen: What was the name of the shop? Hassan: It was called Maarad Alsaah. Yamen: Did it open in the 1970s like your shop? Hassan: It opened before us, he was the foundation of the business. Yamen: Why did he specialise in Russian music? Hassan: His son had been living in Kharkiv, Ukraine for a while, then later returned. As you know, many Russians used to come to Syria during this time. Yamen: So his work was focused on export, not the local market? Hassan: No, for the local market too. It was a retail business, he wasn't involved with wholesale, but his numbers were great. So we were seven stores next to each other, each famous for its own specialisation. Yamen: So this uncle specialised in Russian, your shop in Kurdish, and your other uncle in Assyrian music? Hassan: My second uncle specialised in Assyrian music in Aziziyah. Yamen: Aziziya is a bourgeois region right? Hassan: Yes, especially in Qamishli and the Jazeera. He was an agent for Al Farabi. I was Al Rawi's agent. Al Farabi was in charge of Assyrian music, and we handled Turkish-Kurdish music. The numbers were sky-high, no one would believe the amounts. They were sold across the Jazeera. I would go to the Jazeera every year, I've visited almost every place in the region. Yamen: You would go there to look for distributors and stores? Hassan: It was just a visit. Our agents were responsible for the work on the ground. I went to Amudah, Al Darbasiyah, Al Malikiyah, Ain Diwar and Tal Tamr. I have visited all of these places. Yamen: Very nice. So you spent about 15 million buying contracts during this time. For the first two years, it was profitable – tell us about that time. Hassan: The first two years opened the door for us. We were profiting well within the first two months. Yamen: Could you explain in detail how the law came about? Did you get involved? Who were the big companies – Sawt Al Hafez, Al Malek? Hassan: Not in Aleppo, no. The ones who got involved were the Damascus traders. For example, they started with the Rotana contracts, the strongest company. Yamen: Who took it when the law was first introduced? Hassan: Basil Hassoun. Yamen: What was his company's name? Hassan: Al Mustaqbal. Yamen: Okay, Al Mustaqbal in Damascus. Hassan: Yes in Damascus. Panorama took Sawt Al Fan. Music Box started its own company. It was founded by Moataz Abu Odeh, originally from Daraa. Yamen: So Abu Hassoun took Rotana, and who took Sawt Al Fan? Hassan: Panorama. Yamen: Panorama and Music Box were more specialised in Iraqi Hourani music, right? Hassan: Basically, Music Box is a Kuwaiti Gulf company. Its owner is a Syrian named Anas Abu Odeh. He used to reside in the Gulf, but he's originally Syrian from Daraa. His nephews opened a company in Damascus with a fully integrated studio. Even Elissa used to record there. Yamen: This was during Elissa's early days? Hassan: Yes. Yamen: After these three major companies emerged in Damascus, how did it affect you? Hassan: We were dealing with Turkish and Kurdish music. Yamen: So it didn't affect you much practically? Hassan: In terms of speed, yes it did affect our production line. Yamen: You were mainly handling Turkish and Kurdish music, but what was the proportion of Arabic music sales in your store? Did it make up a majority of sales? Hassan: Around sixty percent was Arabic. Even Arabic music had its rare albums. I had a retail business, and had rare albums that you couldn't find elsewhere. Yamen: So in a practical sense, it did affect you when it came to Arabic albums? Hassan: For the Arabic side, the atmosphere became chaotic. For example, as the owner of a shop, you would dedicate all your time to your shop, then start expanding to new shops. How did it start for me? Adnan Jabouri and a few other Arab singers were under my name. Their sales were good, and in the first month of copyright being launched, I benefited with a nice sum of money. I started buying more singers' contracts. But then the state withdrew its involvement, and all the contracts were shelved. Yamen: The 15 million that you invested in artist copyrights, were these collected over two years? Did you deal exclusively with Kurdish musicians, or also buy the copyrights of Arab musicians? Hassan: Yes I bought the rights. I mentioned the names of popular Arab singers – not major singers, but popular ones, like Walid Agha, Ismail Agha, Abdel Razzaq Jabouri, Ezz El-Din El Furati who sang Kather Mushtaq (I Have Longed So Much). I had three of his albums before Kather Mushtaq. There was Abdul Razzaq Jaburi from Deir Ez Zor, Kamel Al-Youssef. Yamen: How was the state overseeing the situation at first? And how do you feel they withdrew their involvement? Hassan: In Aleppo, they came down once or twice to regulate it. In Damascus, they enforced it a few times. For example, they would fine someone. And then they fined me. Then in Aleppo, I became the agent and started regulating others. Then people became afraid. It was necessary to make the payments in USD, not in Syrian Pounds. Yamen: For violation of the law? Hassan: For example, they would focus on companies like Rotana. Yamen: Big companies. Hassan: We couldn't compete with the big companies. Of course, in the world we worked in, people worked it out. Even the customers asked to work under the table. Half the quantities went through me, and half the quantities were sold through them. So they wouldn't harm me and I wouldn't harm them. That is what we agreed on. Yamen: And then the law was withdrawn? Hassan: Then we went back to the way we used to work. Yamen: When was it withdrawn? Hassan: The law exists, like the dollar. You work with it, and they turn a blind eye. Whenever they want, they open their eyes. Yamen: Why did they stop enforcing it? Hassan: With us, for example, every studio had made good contacts with me, like Sawt Al Hafez and Sallama, and especially the merchants of Aleppo. Everyone was like a friend or a family friend. I mean, some of them were like fathers to me, and spoke to me as a son. Yamen: And since the competition was shared between you all, were you copying each other's work or not? Hassan: There was mutual respect for the compilations (mixtapes) only. So if someone released something else, there might be some sensitivity. Yamen: Why the compilations exclusively? Hassan: Each store had their own name for its compilations. For example, I took the name Sea of Love, and my uncle named his Fountain of Love. The compilations had names so they would sell well. Yamen: Ok, tell us about your compilations. Hassan: For Arabic music, I had a compilation series, so we would release Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 and so on. Yamen: And Sawt Al Hafez made these 'cocktail' tapes (compilations) too? Hassan: Yes, everyone was doing the same thing. I stuck to my own style. Yamen: And the design evolved over time with the collections. Hassan: Of course. We had posters that came with each cassette – you open the cassette and find the poster. This was a new thing. The poster would take the place of 4 or 5 normal pictures. At that time, my uncle and I were close friends, despite being in the same business. We'd go out together, stay up late and play cards. Between our compilations – Sea of Love and Fountain of Love – we sold 50,000 units. Yamen: Did you make Kurdish compilations too? Hassan: Of course, for everything! I had more than 50 Kurdish compilations. Hassan: (Sawt) Al Hafez's recordings were wonderful. Meri'i Al Hafez, may God have mercy on him, was very dedicated to the profession. Yamen: Was Al Hafez from Aleppo too? Hassan: Meri'i Al Hafez was a very respectable person. Yamen: What was he focused on? Hassan: Al Hafez was in charge of everything from Sudan. He handled most of the Sudanese market, vast numbers. They were number one in that regard, and of course he had a shop. Yamen: He copied Sudanese music there? Hassan: No, Sudanese people also listened to Arabic music, and he distributed especially for them. Yamen: Ok, so they had their own distribution. Were they also taking Syrian and Lebanese recordings? Hassan: Of course. Yamen: So he was dealing wholesale to Sudan? Hassan: I mean, he would sell very high numbers, around 1000 units a month only to Sudan. Export of course. Lebanon took an average of 60,000 - 70,000 units. For Iraq, 40,000 - 50,000 units were exported. Sudan took 100,000. Yamen: What other countries were in the market? Libya for example – we heard that Libya was importing from Aleppo for a while. Hassan: Libya imported for a while. I didn't have arrangements with Libya. Actually I had two clients, but they took regular stock like Oum Kalthum and Abdel Halim. Yamen: What other markets were importing from Aleppo – not only from you, but for example like Al-Hafez and Sudan? Hassan: Al Hafez handled Sudan. It was a big market back then, so I can't say for sure. But Al Hafez was a friend of ours. We had a relationship, for example, I used to take some goods from him and he'd take some goods from me, the same thing. Yamen: When you'd distribute to Lebanon or Iraq, where would you get the Iraqi cassettes that the distributor in Iraq would take from you? For example, if they'd ask you to copy 100,000 copies. Hassan: Of course, those were special cases. Yamen: So he'd bring it with him and tell you to copy it? Hassan: Yes, for sure. Yamen: Let's talk about archiving. How did you develop your system for archiving, copying and preserving your cassettes? Hassan: In the old days it was a basic method. Cassettes were different to the CD era. Cassettes would be stored in boxes, labelled by the year, like 1997, 1998 written on the box. Later, it became more organised. I had half the archive digitised, up to seven terabytes. Imagine, and even then, I wasn't done. Yamen: Those seven terabytes were only your productions or everything in the shop? Hassan: We are talking about the complete archive. I mean, even the foreign music that may not have sold a single unit, it's still included in the archive. When a customer comes in and asks for something, I never tell them we don't have it. By 2007 there was no such thing as "we don't have it." Yamen: Everything was there. Hassan: Even things I wasn't aware of. My father would tell me to go and get things from a certain box. Yamen: How did your father know what was missing? And how did he know what new releases were coming out? How did he keep track of it all? Hassan: For new items, we were agents, and we had agents we worked with too. We'd help each other with this of course, and everyone had their own sources. I had a driver, for example, on the Turkey route. He'd come down and stand in front of the store, and I'd make arrangements with him, for example tell him I'd give him 300 dollars. Yamen: That's a lot in those days, 300 dollars. Hassan: Yes, I'd meet him in front of the shop and say to him – "I'll give you 300 dollars to bring me ten releases." That 300 dollars was a dream amount for him. Yamen: And he'd bring them down from Turkey? Hassan: It's an hour to Aleppo, since he had his own car. He'd pick up passengers for free, and would deliver them to me quickly. Yamen: Ok, then you'd start archiving. With cassettes, first you'd store them in boxes and label each box with the year. Later, you digitised them and stored them on hard drives. Hassan: Of course, before that there were drives if you remember – like a memory card, but a bit bigger. And digitisation was a long process. So when the CD came out, it made our lives much easier. Yamen: Did you start making CDs? Hassan: We started making CD archives, then moved to hard drives. Yamen: With the archive on the hard drive, have you been transferring everything you've received to it? I mean, maintaining continuity of your archive from the beginning until today? Hassan: There are three copies: a cached hard drive, a physical CD copy of this, and a working hard drive. Yamen: For any new addition, you update the cached hard drive and keep it safe? Hassan: Of course, I had a guy working specifically on this. It's an archive built over 20 years of work. Yamen: It's a secret of the profession. Hassan: Of course, but now with the internet there is no such thing as a secret. Yamen: How did the internet affect you? Hassan: In Syria, it took a while to take off. It wasn't like in Europe. I mean, we had the internet but not everyone had access to it. Even when people had internet access it was weak, and no one knew anything about uploading, downloading, and all that. Yamen: As you started to develop your skills, did you get a faster internet connection, did you get people to download for you, or were you focused on the archive? Hassan: No, no. Our main focus was on archiving. For example, an Australian customer would come in and ask for 100 pieces. Our commercial work wasn't about selling CDs for 25 lira, but rather CDs for 100 lira, even up to 200 lira. Yamen: The difference was the quality? Hassan: Of course, higher quality more expensive CDs. Everything was more expensive. We are talking about CDs, not the days of cassettes. Yamen: This was in 2008? Hassan: Yes. A foreign customer would come in and I would choose 200 individual pieces for him. This was just a retail customer. Yamen: What were foreigners interested in? Al-Qudud, Muwashahat, or also Kurdish, Turkish, Armenian, Assyrian? Hassan: They would have a list of specific things. For them, a CD for two dollars at Al-Hafez would cost 30 dollars for example. Some would want Bedouin Arabic music, others would want foreign music. Wafik Habib was very popular at that time, and Ali Al Deek. They relied on the compilations more, because of the variety, and would take some rare pieces like summer music. Yamen: What about Chinese music? Hassan: We had a variety of Chinese music that was in demand. Yamen: Who was asking for it? Hassan: Customers would see it for sale on the shelf. They weren't rare pieces, they were available in the market, so copying it wasn't my job. Yamen: Who would bring these unusual items? I mean, other than Chinese music, what were the more unexpected things you could find in Aleppo music shops? Hassan: So the problem is you're talking to me years after I left the business and came to Europe. I've been here for over a decade. I mean, if I could open my computer in Aleppo, I would tell you everything I know. But as you know, uploading and downloading in Europe is also a problem. I have all these things in my mind. Maybe now I'll go and write them all down, and be able to remember a little more. But you are talking about a large archive, over seven terabytes. All of it is stored in a computer. Can you imagine how many albums that means? Yamen: Thousands of hours. Hassan: There was a great Armenian singer by the name of… by God, I've forgotten his name. He even sent me a signed cassette. What was his name? Yamen: From Armenia? Hassan: He was Armenian. I received a special cassette from him as a gift, with his signature. Yamen: Why did he send it to you? Hassan: I had archived his back catalogue, and it was requested by my customers. I had an Armenian customer, and he liked the packaging so he sent me a CD with his signature. Yamen: Nice. How many cassettes would you copy? There were those produced by you, and of course the ones that you didn't produce. But within your own productions? Hassan: Every singer had 20, 30 albums. Ali Al Deek alone has 100 albums. Adnan Darbin has 30 to 40 albums. Tayfur has 20 to 30 albums for example. Ibrahim Tatlises was the number one seller. I have his albums going back to 1976. He had over 40 performances under his belt. His catalogue includes ballads, dabke songs, romantic songs… Of course, it's difficult to determine the precise number of his albums, since there have been so many. I mean, you're not talking about a year's worth of work. We're talking about an archive we've been working on for over thirty years. Yamen: Did you work with VCD? Hassan: No, we've never used it. All the video clips were copies, there were no originals, and I had no space for that. It was all audio. Yamen: After a long career in the industry, can you remember any unusual or funny stories? Unusual cassettes, or interesting interactions with clients? Hassan: When I was in charge of design, I hired a new employee because I couldn't work alone, so I brought a second young man to help me. One day a Kurdish guy came in – a singer. I immediately didn't like the look of him. He looked dishevelled, he might have had a scar and stuff, I can't remember. To me, he just seemed odd. I went downstairs and the new worker was listening to his cassette. My mind was somewhere else and I asked what he was listening to. He replied with the singer's name, which sounded strange to me. I pretended I didn't know anything and went back upstairs so he wouldn't ask me to design it. I left the job to the new guy… We designed his tape, which was titled Loberu. And it ended up selling 500,000 cassettes between the Jazeera and Aleppo in a month! Yamen: In a month! Hassan: Yes, we sold 500,000 cassettes of his. Yamen: Was he already famous, or how did he become famous? Hassan: He became famous because of us. He recorded his cassette at Sayar Ajri studio. The singer faded away because he went to Europe. A car came, gave him money and took him to Europe. When I first met him, I didn't like him because I didn't like the way he looked back then. And then we sold 500,000 of his cassettes! That was the same person I had taken a dislike to! When I heard the cassette, I immediately went back to him. Yamen: I love it. When you listened to the tape, did you like what you heard? Hassan: Of course! I loved his voice. Yamen: You must have picked up the Kurdish language, seeing as you were dealing constantly with Kurds. Hassan: Of course, I learned to speak it but I've forgotten most of it now. Yamen: But you could manage? Hassan: Yes I could – I can understand the language more than I can speak it. Yamen: That's great. Hassan: At that time I had 23 Kurdish workers. My employees were mostly Kurdish. I only had two or three from Aleppo. Yamen: What's the secret between your strong relationship with Kurds? Hassan: As I mentioned, it started with Amer Abu Al Nour. Ridwan Dogan was also a singer that used to work with me. And of course, they'd bring their friends. One would bring his cousin, another his brother. Amer Abu Al Nour may be able to tell you the finer details that I might have missed, from his perspective. All these things I've told you about the 1970s, he was there too. I'm just recounting what I've been told about that time. I was born in 1982. And what I've explained is what I've been told about how the business operated from 1976. Yamen: Alright. Regarding cassettes – there were very few people who could make cassettes and distribute them from Aleppo to Damascus. Recording was also a big deal at the time. The existence of the cassette made it possible for any artist from a small village to record and start spread their work through companies like yours. What impact do you think the cassette had on the culture of the northern and northeastern regions and across Syria in general? Hassan: In general, every popular singer was already well-known in his region. For example, some singers who were famous in the Jazeera would come to Aleppo, and become even more well-known. As an example, the song by Omar Souleyman that became very famous - what was the name? Yamen: Jani. Hassan: We would play it through the speakers outside the shop. Arabs would come in, Kurds would come in, foreigners would come in, they would all start shaking their waists to the music, and then they'd buy it. Yamen: What albums did you sign with Omar? Hassan: I honestly don't remember. I know I have the contracts to 12 albums. Yamen: You own 12 albums? Hassan: For Omar Souleyman, yes. Yamen: So after the end of the cassette era, and the beginning of CDs, along came the internet. How long were you actively involved in your work? Between 2008 and 2010, how did the work develop, and did you notice any impact from the internet on your sales? Hassan: Sales did decrease, but retail remained strong. In general, wholesale sales dropped, but I still had regular customers in Iraq and Lebanon. Of course, we didn't see the astronomical numbers we used to, but the sale of retail CDs compensated for that. Yamen: So in 2010, CD sales were good. Hassan: Yes they were considered good. You could reach sales of 40,000 or 50,000 CDs, which is a good number. Yamen: Then in 2010, you closed the shop when the war started. What impact do you think the decade of war had on music and the industry in Syria? Hassan: The store is empty now. It's been destroyed, a mortar shell landed on it. No one was hurt, but the store was destroyed. There is nothing there, only ruins – nothing to see. And the archive is a closed private warehouse. Now it's over. I mean, anyone trying to start their business again will be gambling, it will be a loss. Yamen: Why? Hassan: Everything is online now. You can open a website and upload your albums, and anyone who wants to listen to your songs can download them for a small fee. Beyond that, you can't do much more. You can start a website and develop it, and hope to get bigger… Yamen: What about YouTube, have you thought about working through YouTube? Hassan: We started trying at one point, but I withdrew it around 2008, 2009. It required a whole team and dedicated attention. The internet wasn't fast enough in Syria, we couldn't keep up with it all. You could only upload three albums a day. Yamen: Uploading? Hassan: Yes, uploading some rare things from the archive to the website. Every day there was an album or two, and it was really tedious. The timing wasn't right in Syria. I mean now the internet has evolved, software has improved. The file size of a song has shrunk, so you can stream it online. We didn't have those capabilities back then, we weren't in that field. Yamen: Would you think of doing something like this in the future? Hassan: Of course, I'll do whatever I can with whatever I have. Yamen: Being in Europe may also make things easier. All at the right time, in the right place. Hassan: Yes, especially as Kurdish singers here in Europe have their rights. If you take care of it here, your rights won't be lost, as long as you have evidence and documents to prove that it's yours. Yamen: Alright, thank you very much, Mr. Hassan, we've learned a lot. Hassan: I wish I could be of more use to you, but I really can't remember some details right now. Yamen: No, you gave us great information, it's been a good interview. Hassan: You're welcome, thank you very much. May God bless you. Thanks. Conducted by Yamen Mekdad and Mark Gergis Special thanks to Rizan Said, Wajih Al-Sheikh, Ayesha Keshani and Ammar Mnla Hasan.