Maurice Béjart (1927-2007) was a world-renowned French artist who was quite influential in the art of dance in the latter part of the 20th century. In the process of collaborating with a group of Iranian musicians, he travelled to Iran for the Shiraz Arts Festival and met Ostad Elahi. He described the result of his meeting as follows: 

I found myself in the presence of a person who, in my opinion, was the greatest musician I had ever met in my life. . . . Music was his language, and it was through this music that I received a lesson. Then he told me the same thing that my father had said: the foundation of all religions is the same, and we should accept one of them; each is a path that is no more superior than the others. It was then that I decided to choose his path. He is a person whose thought guided me, and is still guiding me. That visit was both a personal and musical encounter. Ostad did not speak French—we communicated solely through music.

[The following is an excerpt of an interview with Maurice Béjart that appeared in the magazine Danser in April 1983]:

Q- You said that it was through music, not words, that you understood Ostad Elahi. Could you tell us what it was that you understood?

M.B. No, because I cannot verbalize those feelings. He did not speak French, and I did not speak Persian. He played music, but I cannot put into words what I felt and lived. This meeting induced a great change in my life, in my existence, and in my thought.

Q- As a contemporary of Ostad Elahi, can you tell me about who he was, what his personality and presence were like?

M.B. I really don't know what to tell you. What I can say and what I have also conveyed in one of my books is that he told me the following: 'If you need me, we will always be in touch. Any question that you have regarding any matter, ask me and I will answer you.' A few years later, I was contacted to produce a ballet on the triumphs of Petrarch for the Florentine Musical Foundation. But I didn't like the word 'triumph,' and wasn't too familiar with Petrarch; in reality, I didn't want to accept the offer. So I went to Luxembourg Park and inwardly asked Ostad: 'Should I really produce this ballet? I have no desire to do so at all. What should I do?' Suddenly, as I was sitting there a friend I had not seen for a long time passed by and suggested we go to the Gustave Moreau Museum. It is a museum that I liked very much—I had even produced a television report on Gustave Moreau and knew the museum's curator quite well. When we reached the museum, the curator said: 'I haven't seen you for a long time. Come, let me show you something interesting. There is a painting that has been under restoration and has not been on display for quite some time; it's just been returned to the museum. You must see it, come upstairs with me. We walked up to the first floor, where he turned to me and said: 'Behold the triumphs of Petrarch!'