Today we’d like to introduce you to Bahar Badieitabar.
Hi Bahar, it’s an honor to have you on the platform. Thanks for taking the time to share your story with us – to start maybe you can share some of your backstory with our readers?
Thanks for having me. If I want to start talking about my music career…
I actually began music quite unexpectedly. I decided to audition for the Tehran Music School, which starts its program at age 12. It’s not an extracurricular, it’s like a built-in conservatory, where you study music as part of your school curriculum for six years. There, we had music-specific classes, including preparatory courses like ear training and harmony, up to advanced courses like “The Art of Call and Response in the Classical Music of Iran.”
That was where I first learned musical notation. Most kids auditioning already had some background, either in basic theory or on an instrument. I didn’t. I got in after completing the one-month preparatory course, and that’s when I picked up the oud, which became my principal instrument. Before that, I only had a little experience with Persian percussion, the tombak. Honestly, I wasn’t even that into music before then, I thought I would become a volleyball player because my mother is a volleyball coach.
But once I started studying music, something shifted. I began to enjoy it. In high school, things deepened. I started immersing myself in Iranian classical music, listening seriously, transcribing, and trying to play by ear. It stopped being just part of a curriculum or simply reading notation from a piece of paper and started to become a way of life, a life force.
During that time, I had some memorable achievements, like winning the National Youth Festival twice, at ages 16 and 17. After high school, I prepared for the university entrance exam, which is required to attend public universities, and got into Tehran University.
At first, I was excited. I had good professors. But after a while, I felt something was missing. I realized that if I wanted to continue music within an academic system, I needed something more open and exploratory. I started feeling a sense of limitation.
Even before university, though, I had begun listening to different musicians. One musician who opened a new world for me was Anouar Brahem. Through his albums, I discovered other artists, and later on, I started listening to jazz luminaries like Dave Holland and Jack DeJohnette. Something sparked in me. I heard a kind of music where I could imagine myself. I didn’t know how, but I felt a space in that sound, a space I could exist in.
When I hit that limit at university, Berklee was the first school I thought of. I knew it was more open, experimental, and welcoming. At the time, there were online auditions for Berklee, but I thought auditioning in person would give me a better chance for a scholarship. The closest country where I could get a visa was China, which was still very far, but it was my only option. So, I traveled to China to audition. Despite many difficulties, I was accepted with a Presidential Scholarship, a life-changing opportunity.
But the challenges didn’t end when I arrived. As an international student from Iran, there were many struggles just to stay and study. Yet, looking back, the journey has been transformative in ways I couldn’t have imagined.
Over the past six years at Berklee, I completed both my undergraduate and graduate studies. I did a double major in Composition and Performance, which took nearly five years, and then spent another year at the Berklee Global Jazz Institute, graduating just this past June. These years have shaped me deeply, not only as a musician, but also as a person.
Being far from home pushed me to grow. Immersing myself in music while facing both musical and personal challenges taught me resilience. It made me confront myself and discover who I am, and how I want to live and grow my work.
This journey also brought me closer to the core of music. It made me ask: Why do I do music? Is it simply to be a good student? Or is it something deeper? Here, I realized music is not just a responsibility or an academic pursuit; it is my life itself. Sound, frequencies, and music became inseparable from who I am. Art needs honesty. You can’t hide from yourself, your true self appears in your art. Creation is vulnerable, but that vulnerability is where the genuine work comes from.
A meaningful chapter of this journey has been creating and recording my debut album. I started this project three years ago, and as an independent artist, I learned how many steps and how much effort it takes to bring an album to life. It’s a long, complicated process. The album is finally set to be released this fall, and I’m very excited and proud, it feels like my child, something I’ve poured my entire heart into.
Now that I’ve graduated, I’m moving back to New York City. I lived there briefly, about seven months, between my undergraduate and graduate studies, working as a freelancer. Returning to NYC now feels like the natural next step. I plan to continue performing, teaching, and developing new projects. After releasing my debut album, I hope for more performances, tours, and long-term collaborations.
One of the projects I’m most excited about is my new collective, Zambra, formed with some of my closest friends, humble and amazing musicians I met during my time at Berklee. We’re currently recording, and we’ll be performing at the Detroit Jazz Festival. It’s an honor to share the stage in such a meaningful environment.
One of the highlights of my time in Boston was the honor of going on a mini tour with one of my biggest inspirations in music, Danilo Pérez. I joined him and the Global Jazz Messengers for several performances, and one of the most memorable nights was our concert at Chicago Symphony Hall, in a double bill with Children of the Light. Being backstage and hearing Danilo Pérez, John Patitucci, and Brian Blade, and later sitting in on a tune with them, was one of the most magical moments of my life. It was one of those moments when I thought to myself: This is why I do what I do. The joy and love I carried with me during those moments were truly precious. Beyond that, I learned so much during the tour and rehearsals with Danilo Pérez, lessons I will carry with me for the rest of my life.
During my time at Berklee, I was also part of the Jazz, Gender, and Justice Institute, which focuses on jazz without hierarchy. Spaces like this are so important, and I’m grateful for the mentors at Berklee who guided me along the way: Kris Davis, Alain Mallet, Marti Epstein, Richard Carrick, Danilo Pérez, John Patitucci, Joe Lovano, and many more. Their mentorship deeply shaped my growth as an artist.
There are many exciting things ahead, some I know, and some I trust will unfold unexpectedly, as life always does. I’m grateful for the opportunities I’ve had so far, and for those still to come.
Lastly, I’d like to share about my master’s thesis project, Embraced by the Flowing Water: Oud as a Queer Ontology. This was my most recent work, and one I’m very proud of. It’s available publicly through the Berklee Global Jazz Institute Vimeo page. Beyond my debut album, I want to expand this project further, deepen it beyond the scope of a thesis and bring it into the world in new forms.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
There have been many obstacles on my journey, as a musician, an independent artist, and an international student navigating a career in a new country. I’m fortunate to have a beautiful and supportive community by my side. But I also face challenges, such as geopolitical obstacles I have to overcome.
One of the less visible but most impactful challenges was adapting to a new musical language. I play the oud, an acoustic instrument of Middle Eastern origin, which doesn’t have a clearly defined path within jazz or creative/contemporary music. There weren’t many role models I could look to who were doing what I was trying to do, integrating the oud into jazz and creative music spaces. So, I had to learn how to interpret and translate this new language through my instrument, and that journey continues to this day.
Every time I play with other musicians, I learn more about how to find my voice and make space for the oud in these musical settings. This exploration became the heart of my thesis project, how to allow my instrument and my music to exist within the improvised/jazz idiom.
For example, playing oud in a traditional jazz setting, with a rhythm section of piano, double bass, and drums, presents some practical challenges. The oud is naturally quieter and occupies a lower register, making it harder to balance sonically. At first, it might not typically be treated as a melodic instrument in jazz, where melodic roles often represented by instruments like saxophones or trumpets that live in higher registers, or as a bass instrument, as the body of the oud is smaller than a double bass and therefore has a quieter sound range. So, I had to experiment and learn how to write and arrange music in a way that highlights the oud without it getting buried, whether that’s through careful voicing in the piano or playing with musicians who are attentive to dynamics and texture.
This process of adapting, translating, and finding my sound in a new musical context has been both challenging and rewarding. It’s been joyful to continue to discover more of my individuality as a musician not only in how I play, but in the music, I write and the communities I connect with.
Now that I’ve graduated, I’m focused on working as a musician, playing, teaching, composing, and collaborating. This is something I was already doing back home but making a living as a musician anywhere is never easy, especially as an independent artist funding their own projects. I hope that more individuals and organizations continue to support musicians and artists like myself. I believe the number of people who care about and uplift the arts is growing, and that gives me hope.
Especially for those of us creating music that falls outside the mainstream, we rely on listeners, venues, and institutions that believe in the power of alternative voices. Supporting artists can take many forms: buying music on Bandcamp, becoming a patron, attending live shows, or simply sharing their work with others.
It’s my hope that musicians will be treated with the respect and care they deserve, and that our communities recognize how essential art is not just for entertainment, but for healing, understanding, and staying human in difficult times.
Thank you, Voyage LA, for inviting me to share my story. I hope this interview inspires others to support artists in whatever ways they can. Across the world, many are facing hardships; and I think each of us carries a small light. When we come together, with compassion, courage, and love, we can help one another grow.
Are there any books, apps, podcasts or blogs that help you do your best?
One of the great podcasts I actively follow, and always look forward to new episodes of, is Rahe Goosh. It’s a podcast for Farsi/Persian speakers that explores important and engaging topics about music.
Huge thanks to its creator and everyone involved, especially Saeed Yaqubian, for curating and sharing these valuable materials and stories with the Farsi-speaking community. I’m sharing the link here.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://baharbadiei6.wixsite.com/website?fbclid=PAQ0xDSwL2V_9leHRuA2FlbQIxMAABp3x87Wyn3z5qx0ojLgV36yYhH7nlVdK10TPadSlB96FtOHekFcgrzpCeBlku_aem_j0-YN5-NB3X_iGLke_8wAg
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/baharbadiei/?igsh=ZTZwMHlkZDRtMHZo&utm_source=qr
- Youtube: https://youtube.com/@baharbadieitabar?si=xI4O3P6MuiMYZRzq
