Transforming Tombak

The sounds of Cinna Peyghamy, a deft and exciting tombak player who merges the Iranian instrument with modular synthesis, feel pioneering and experimental, yet simultaneously grounded and organic. His performances and recordings illustrate the real potential of synthesizers not as simply as machines for the creation of new sounds, but as a facilitator of real sonic partnership.  For our music issue, EastEast spoke with Peyghamy about the history of his setup, his “patching” philosophy, and the beauty of the unexpected in live performance. 

EastEast: What is your connection to Iranian folk music? How did you begin to play tombak and what drew you to the instrument? 

Cinna Peyghamy: I wouldn't say that I have a deep knowledge of traditional Persian music. When I was young, my parents would mostly listen to rock music or French singer-songwriter’s. But every time that I’m listening to it, I feel a sort of resonance inside my body. A bond. 

There is a track on my EP called "Sympathetic Fillings," in which I manipulate a sample of santur, a traditional Persian dulcimer. The sound of Persian instruments has always had an emotional impact on me. 

I started learning tombak in 2017. Before that, I’d played the drums for 7-8 years and I wanted to try something new. One day, I stumbled across a famous video of Mohammad-Reza Mortazavi playing the tombak. I was impressed by his virtuosic technique, but also by how he could make the instrument sing in ways that were almost “electronic.” I immediately decided that I wanted to learn this instrument.

EE: Did you follow a similar path with modular synths? 

CP: I started producing electronic music when I was 14. For the first year I was doing everything on my computer, then I bought my first synths and drum machines when I was 20. I think what drew me to this hobby was both the artistic side of composing music and the technical aspect of learning new technology. 

When I was watching synth videos on youtube, I would sometimes see these huge machines with wires and I was always thinking “What the hell is that? How does it work ?” I was fascinated by these machines. I realized that the only limit to a modular synth is the one fixed by your imagination. Compared to a regular synth, guitar pedal, or drum machine, all of which are fixed in their electronic design, the modular has an open architecture. This is what made me pull the trigger. 

EE: What inspired you to connect these two sonic “worlds”? Do you see your relationship with the tombak as similar to the one you have with your modular setup? Are they both just instruments or do you view them in different ways? 

CP: I basically started using modular synth the same year that I started learning the tombak. At the same time, I was doing my thesis for my master’s degree in Music Programming, where I was experimenting a lot with contact microphones. I asked myself the question: “What if I stick a contact mic on the tombak and plug it into the synth ?” As soon as I started playing with this setup, I knew that this won’t be just an experiment. A whole world instantly opened to me. 

Compared to a regular synth, guitar pedal, or drum machine, all of which are fixed in their electronic design, the modular has an open architecture. This is what made me pull the trigger. 

Obviously, they are both very complex instruments but in very different aspects: 

My relationship with the tombak is purely physical : I hold it, I hit it, I scratch it. I practice everyday with it, I carry it around. I hurt my hands when I’m playing it too hard. My considerations are: “is my hand technique good ? Am I precise enough when I play at this specific speed? Are my fingers relaxed ?” It’s an instrument that I need to practice everyday to bring muscle memory into my hands. 

With the modular, it’s more of a mental connection. I spend more time thinking about it than actually playing it: which module I should add or remove, how I would interconnect them, how I can use that free space to add complexity to my patch. It’s like doing a puzzle, or playing a strategy game. You spend more time thinking about your possibilities than doing the actual move. 

EE: What is your process in creating a patch? For those that are not familiar, can you explain first what a patch really is? 

CP: A modular synth is made of many different modules. Each module has a specific task. Alone, they’re practically useless. But they’re made to be connected one to another with patch cables to create more complex systems. It’s the connection of all these modules within a modular case that is called a patch. It can be seen like a map or a labyrinth: there is an entry point (the sound of the tombak) and an exit (the sound of the modular), but there are countless paths to connect one to another. I’m the one who’s deciding which paths I want to take. 

My modular case is built around these 3 ideas: transforming the sound of the tombak in real-time, using the sound of the tombak to trigger musical elements from the synth, and being able to improvise a full set (45-60 min) with all the tools at my disposal. When I’m designing a patch, I’m always looking to fulfill these three ideas. I’m looking to create a symbiosis between the tombak and the synth in order to play beautiful music. 

Designing a patch is really the fun of modular. In my case it’s not assimilated with composition. It resembles architecture, industrial design, or even computer programming in the sense that I’m building something that I’m going to use on a daily basis. 

EE: Unlike many modular synth users, you play with a fixed patch for lengthy periods of time, as opposed to working with new routing combinations. What led you to this technique and why does it work for you? 

CP: In order to be able to improvise long sets with my setup, I had to go pretty deep into patch design. This results in a pretty complicated and very dense patch, with more than a 100 patch cables. But this allows me to experiment with routing within the patch itself, without having to unplug the cables to test new configuration. It’s like a modular within the modular.

Once the patch is done, I leave it this way because I need to practice with it and play live with it because during my gigs, I make really instinctive decisions during my improv. Usually, I keep my patch for a year and a half (that’s about 20 shows) before trying a new one. During this time, I analyze which part of the patch works the best, which one I don’t use much, etc. It’s also a lot of research online to know which module I’m going to buy/exchange for the next iteration of the patch. When it’s time for me to unpatch and create a new one, I usually know what I’m going for and I’ve already gathered the necessary modules. Then I usually need a whole week to create the new patch, fine tune it and get used to it. Then the cycle starts again and I use my live shows to test this new patch. 

[Patching] resembles architecture, industrial design, or even computer programming in the sense that I’m building something that I’m going to use on a daily basis. 

EE: What is your experience performing with your current setup, especially in relation to your patches? Do you feel like you are reacting to the modular, it is reacting to you, or something in between? Does it feel like a solo performance or something like a group performance (you, the tombak, and the modular)? 

CP: It’s a strange feeling. I would say it’s really something in between. Sometimes I have an idea in my head, I play it and the synth does exactly what I expected. Sometimes, maybe I forgot to reset a setting somewhere in the patch, and the synth is suddenly reacting in an unexpected way. I love these moments that throw me off guard, as I need to quickly understand what’s happening, react to it, and turn it into something musical. 

When I play live I’m in a kind of hyper-focused mode in which I’m not paying any attention to what’s happening around me. There could be 10 people or 1,000—it wouldn't change anything. There is just me, the tombak, the synth, a very tight space where everything that is happening depends on the movement of my hands, fingers, and the musical decision that I make. 

EE: Please tell us about your upcoming performances and new album—how will it be different from The Skin in Between? And where do you see yourself moving next musically? 

CP: I've been touring with the same patch since early 2023. I’ve recently been working on my new patch that I’ll use for the next year or so. I’m very happy with this new iteration : it’s built on the same base as the last one but adds some core functionalities that I’ll use in my new live: more flexibilities with loop, additional way of playing/triggering samples, and digging further in a specific way of patching that I’ve called “tombak synthesis.”

On top of that, I’m almost done with my debut full-length album. It’s a continuation of what I did with The Skin In Between: exploring the different possibilities that the tombak offers as a compositional tool in an electronic framework. 

I can’t wait to show it to the world. Hopefully it’ll be released by the end of the year, or early 2026. 

Cover photo courtesy of Bachir Tayachi