Bijan Ghiasi
بیژن
Bijan is a multi-instrumentalist, vocalist, and performer whose music traverses traditions of the Silk Roads and beyond. Rooted in the musical cultures of Persia, Armenia, the Middle East, and the Mediterranean, his work brings together ancient instruments and living folk traditions with the harmonic, rhythmic, and compositional languages of Western music and contemporary performance.
His musical path has been shaped by an eclectic and deeply rooted education. Bijan studies duduk with master Armenian musician and vocalist Khatchadour Khatchadourian, a disciple of renowned duduk player Levon Minassian. He has also studied under Abdolreza Rostamian, a student of Armenian duduk master Gevorg Dabaghyan, whose students include internationally renowned musicians such as Pedro Eustache, who contributed Duduk to Dune’s soundtrack. He has studied Persian ney with Maziar Karandish (Mah Ze Tar), a master ney player and multi-instrumentalist from Shiraz, Iran. His training also includes classical guitar with Persian master Boghrat Sadeghan and Christopher Mallett of UC Santa Cruz; classical piano under the supervision of world-class pianist Susan Bruckner at Cabrillo College; and blues/funk/R&B guitar with Oliver Harris of the Dennis Dove Band. He is currently embarking on studying Balkan clarinet with Greg Jenkins.
Alongside his instrumental studies, Bijan has pursued extensive coursework in music theory, ear training, composition, and electronic music production, including Ableton Live and Logic Pro. His performance experience spans festivals, intimate acoustic settings, recitals, community gatherings, restaurants and bars, sound healing spaces, and larger live events with DJs. This depth and range allows him to move fluidly between traditional repertoire, improvisation, contemporary arrangements, dance-oriented performance, and contemplative soundscapes.
Bijan holds a degree in English Literature and Dramatic Arts from UC Davis, where he began his formal music studies. His background in theatre continues to inform his approach to performance, with an emphasis on magnetic stage presence, storytelling, embodiment, and audience engagement.
His musical practice is also inseparable from his spiritual and contemplative life. Bijan is a dedicated yoga practitioner and holds a 200-hour yoga teacher training certification from Mt. Madonna through Baba Hari Dass’s lineage. He is also an avid Vipassana meditation practitioner. Bijan is deeply involved in the Bay Area’s vibrant communities of musicians, artists, and spiritual practitioners, regularly participating in and contributing to workshops, sound healings, full-moon gatherings, medicine circles, and other community events. He is also an avid participant in Lark Music Camp, where he continues to explore music as a vehicle for connection, cultural exchange, and collective experience.
At the heart of Bijan's work is a lifelong exploration of the relationship between tradition and contemporary expression. His music draws from the Persian, Armenian, Turkish, Greek, and broader Middle Eastern traditions that have shaped his cultural and musical identity, while remaining open to the sounds and traditions of Asia, Africa, and the Americas. Rather than treating these traditions as isolated worlds, he approaches them as interconnected threads within a much larger human musical story. He then infuses intoxicating world bass beats with these rich traditions to craft a transcendent, grooving, immersive experience.
Through duduk, ney, voice, guitar, clarinet, and other instruments, Bijan creates performances that can range from vibrant and dance-oriented to intimate, mystical, and meditative. His work honors the lineages from which these traditions emerge while allowing them to meet new audiences and contemporary musical contexts.
Bijan currently resides in the Bay Area in California
Biography
Duduk
Nylon Guitar
Electric Guitar
Persian Ney
Arabic Ney
Keyboard
Clarinet
Native Flute
Djembe
Instruments
Statement from the Artist
Artistic Vision
My deepest intention is to share the beauty found within the world's sacred, devotional, and folk traditions through music that honors their roots while speaking to contemporary audiences. By weaving ancient instruments and melodies with modern textures and rhythms, I hope to create experiences that awaken curiosity, soften the heart, and invite listeners into musical worlds they may have never encountered before.
Much of my musical foundation comes from both Western Music and the traditions of Persia, Armenia, Turkey, Greece, and the broader Middle East—cultures whose music has profoundly shaped my life and identity. Yet, like the trade winds that carried instruments, stories, and songs across continents for centuries, my own path continues to lead me toward the musical traditions of India, Africa, Asia, and South America. I see these traditions not as isolated cultures, but as branches of a shared human story.
Music, to me, is an offering of presence and connection. It has the remarkable ability to dissolve the boundaries that language, politics, and history often create. Whether through joyful dance, emotions being stirred, communal singing, or quiet reflection, I hope each performance becomes a space where people feel more deeply connected—to themselves, to one another, and to the cultures whose voices continue to echo through these ancient melodies.
Growing up between Iranian and American cultures, I experienced both the richness of belonging to multiple worlds and the tensions that can arise when cultures become misunderstood or reduced to stereotypes. My work is, in many ways, a response to that experience. Rather than arguing against division, I hope to offer something more enduring: moments of beauty that invite empathy, curiosity, and the recognition of our shared humanity.
On My Name
Bijan (Persian: /biːˈʒæn/ — bee-ZHAN)
For many years, my name felt like something I carried with uncertainty. At family gatherings it was spoken with warmth, familiarity, and love; elsewhere it was often mispronounced, mocked, or stumbled over. Like many children growing up between cultures, I became accustomed to deciding whether to correct someone, change my name, or modify it.
Choosing to perform under my own name became an unexpected act of reclamation. Rather than searching for a stage name that felt easier, I realized I wanted to grow into the one I had been given.
The name Bijan also carries deep cultural significance. In Ferdowsi's Shahnameh (The Book of Kings), written around 1000 CE, the story of Bijan and Manijeh tells of a young Persian hero who falls in love with Manijeh, the daughter of Iran's rival king. Though imprisoned by the rival King, Bijan survives through Manijeh's unwavering devotion until he is ultimately rescued. Like many enduring love stories, it reminds us that compassion and love can triumph over hatred and fraught histories.
As someone of both Iranian and American heritage, that story has taken on new meaning for me. In a world where nations and cultures are so often defined by fear, conflict, or political narratives, I find hope in a story that insists love can cross even the deepest divides. It reminds me that behind every border are ordinary people capable of kindness, beauty, and friendship.
Keeping my name is my way of honoring that inheritance. Every performance becomes an invitation—not only to hear music from different parts of the world, but to encounter one another with greater openness, curiosity, and care.
