Iranian Musician Plays Final Elegy in Ruins of Bombed Music Academy
In the shattered remains of his 15-year-old music school, Iranian musician Hamidreza Afarideh sat on a debris-laden floor, drew his bow, and played his kamancheh. He described this as "the last sound" of a life's work reduced to dust by an airstrike.
A Haunting Farewell Captured on Video
Weeks after a strike destroyed the Honiak Music Academy, Afarideh walked back into the hazardous ruins on April 7, 2026. He recorded a haunting video that quickly traveled far beyond Tehran, capturing his moments of deep grief. The academy had been severely damaged in an airstrike on March 23.
"Today was the last day to say goodbye to my school. I wanted the last sound that remains in this place to be the sound of music…not explosions and missiles," Afarideh wrote in a now-viral post. Within days, his images and clips racked up millions of views across Instagram, X, YouTube, and TikTok.
The video prompted a flood of multilingual reactions online, with many seeing it as a reminder of the human cost beyond military headlines. It triggered widespread calls to "stop war" and highlighted the destruction of cultural and artistic spaces.
The Day of the Attack and a Life's Work Lost
Speaking to media, Afarideh recalled the day of the attack. "I felt that a very important part of our memories, and sounds that could have continued in that space—sounds that many artists could hear, see, and live with for years—were suddenly destroyed by a missile and a drone," he said.
The music academy was built over a decade and a half by Afarideh and his wife, Sheida Ebadatdoust. He calls it "their shared life project."
"We worked with very limited resources, relying only on our dreams and dedication to build this academy. Losing it suddenly is extremely hard. All our hard work, efforts, actions to bring people closer to music and instruments was lost in a single night. It is very difficult to accept," Afarideh expressed.
He emphasized that everything they built over so many years was gone, and this loss will take years to process emotionally and psychologically.
Returning to Danger for a Final Tribute
Despite the risk of collapse, Afarideh returned to the damaged building. "I knew it was very dangerous… but I felt that if I didn't record this sound, it would stay in my heart forever. I might not stay (alive) afterwards… I felt I had to go there and make this the last image and the last sound remaining from the space we had created," he explained.
For Afarideh, the viral moment has brought global attention—but also underscored, he says, "the reality of war and destruction" faced by his 250 students and 22 teachers. His video has become a global plea for recognition of the cost of war not just in bodies and infrastructure, but in art, memory, and the fragile ecosystems of creativity that take decades to build and minutes to erase.
Impact on Students and the Healing Power of Music
He calls the place a "second home" where students came not just to learn music but to feel seen and held. "Students, who were to return someday, are now scattered, shell-shocked, and struggling to process what happened. One child crossed the building with his mother and didn't speak for hours afterwards. All students are going through similar feelings," Afarideh shared.
Yet, Afarideh insists on the power of art. "Music… is a symbol of freedom," he said. "In times of war, it can heal—even if only a little—the pain of those who have lost everything."
This story serves as a poignant reminder of how conflicts devastate not only physical structures but also the cultural and emotional fabric of communities, urging a reevaluation of war's broader impacts on society and creativity.
