The last black-cloaked figure leaves the stage. Silence - then waves of applause. But no-one emerges from the wings. A reminder that what has been a fascinating performance for us is a devotional rite for the musicians, singers and dancers of the Istanbul Music and Sema Group.

The last black-cloaked figure leaves the stage. Silence - then waves of applause. But no-one emerges from the wings. A reminder that what has been a fascinating performance for us is a devotional rite for the musicians, singers and dancers of the Istanbul Music and Sema Group.

The first half, a recital of Sufi music, went some way towards preparing us for the Whirling Ceremony itself. The readings, in English, introduced ideas of relinquishing unfulfilling worldly ways to follow the Sufi path of awareness and one-ness: heart, mind and body united in revering the Creator. The music, from different periods and sources, framed the readings with rich, sonorous chantings allied to undulating beats on the frame-drum and intertwining lines of quite ethereal sound from the ney (flute), tanbur (long-necked lute) and kanun (zither). Solemn yet joyful, it resonated with a compelling calm.

During the interval, a colleague wondered if we would ever think of "just dropping in on" a Catholic mass. It was a concern about the nature of our spectating upon a ritual which has profound religious significance for the Dervishes. But from the moment a conical-hatted, black-swathed Dervish appeared, and bowed towards the red sheepskin at one side, a mood of reverence was established.

As the six men slowly raised their arms, the full skirts of their gowns belling out, the whirling and the music melded into an act of ecstatic prayer. Acts of faith are outwith star ratings: this one is simply a privilege to watch.

From Saturday's later editions.