OMAR FARUK TEKBILEK was a musical prodigy, noteworthy even in Adana, the city in which he grew up in southern Turkey near the Gulf of Iskenderun. Adana is situated on what was once the boundary between the Byzantine and Islamic worlds. "Because it was a border town," Faruk recalls, "Philosophers, artists, actors and all other members of the cultural intelligensia were attracted there. This explains why so many great musicians have come from my town. My city was rich with cultural opportunities, so I was very lucky."

At the age of eight Faruk developed proficiency on the kaval, a small diatonic flute which had been long ago dismissed as primitive by local musicians. His musical interests were nurtured by his older brother Hajahmed (also a gifted musician) and by a sympathetic uncle who owned a music store and who provided lessons. By the age of twelve Faruk began performing professionally. Fellow musicians would smuggle him into nightclubs where he would play brief but electrifying sets prior to a hasty exit, a club owner invariably chasing the underage flutist from the premises.

Istanbul beckoned to the young Faruk, as it did to all of his contemporaries. Upon turning sixteen in 1967, he moved to the metropolis, where he and his brother spent the following decade as in-demand session musicians. Faruk stayed true to his folkloric roots, attempting unsuccessfully to integrate his indigenous instruments within the framework of Turkish jazz, instruments such as the ney flute, the double-reed zurna with its buzzing oboe-like tone or the classic lute of Persia, the oud. A peripatetic figure on Istanbul's music scene, Faruk gained proficiency on several other instruments, both Turkish and Western, and during this period of frenetic session work he explored the compositional potential of the recording studio. Faruk carved out his singular and defining identity as a musician known for his skilled playing of arcane folk instruments, while functioning comfortably within contemporary recording studios.

Turkish virtuoso OMAR FARUK TEKBILEK opens a window into the divine passion and poetry of Sufism, the mystical sect of Islam. Burning performances on the full spectrum of Middle Eastern instruments and intense devotional songs of slowly unfolding magnificence create an ideal world where old and new cultures comingle, and time is suspended in the One Truth of music.

"Looking at the world through the eyes of a Sufi, wherever you look you see the Creator, not the creation." So the Turkish musician OMAR FARUK TEKBILEK explains both the title of his album One Truth and its unifying concept born of Sufism, the mystical sect of Islam to which he belongs. "Wherever a Sufi looks, he sees God's manifestation. Love, as it appears in the lyrics of Sufi music, is not materialistic love. It is divine love. This relates to what Sufism is fundamentally about: the oneness of everything."

Faruk was a musical prodigy, noteworthy even in Adana, the city in which he grew up in southern Turkey near the Gulf of Iskenderun. Adana is situated on what was once the boundary between the Byzantine and Islamic worlds. Because it was a border town, philosophers, artists, actors and all other members of the cultural intelligensia were attracted there. "This explains why so many great musicians have come from my town. My city was rich with cultural opportunities, so I was very lucky."

At the age of eight Faruk developed proficiency on the kaval, a small diatonic flute which had been long ago dismissed as primitive by local musicians. His musical interests were nurtured by his older brother Hajahmed (also a gifted musician) and by a sympathetic uncle who owned a music store and who provided lessons. By the age of twelve Faruk began performing professionally. Fellow musicians would smuggle him into nightclubs where he would play brief but electrifying sets prior to a hasty exit, a club owner invariably chasing the underage flutist from the premises.

Istanbul beckoned to the young Faruk, as it did to all of his contemporaries. Upon turning sixteen in 1967, he moved to the metropolis, where he and his brother spent the following decade as in-demand session musicians. Faruk stayed true to his folkloric roots, attempting unsuccessfully to integrate his indigenous instruments within the framework of Turkish jazz, instruments such as the ney flute, the double-reed zurna with its buzzing oboe-like tone or the classic lute of Persia, the oud. A peripatetic figure on Istanbul's music scene, Faruk gained proficiency on several other instruments, both Turkish and Western, and during this period of frenetic session work he explored the compositional potential of the recording studio. Faruk carved out his singular and defining identity as a musician known for his skilled playing of arcane folk instruments, while functioning comfortably within contemporary recording studios.