Interference
artist: Farah mohammad
Where are we? Sadaf’s living room? Transitioning into the musical performance that was so carefully prepared, a beautiful trio stands before us. Roshni Samlal on the Tabla, and Nathalie Barret-Mas on violin flank Falsa, our storyteller and vocalist. Such beautiful storytellers, such talented vessels we are blessed to sit amongst and marvel with. It reminds me of the blessing that is preservation by way of song. Do we interfere or do we pepper in a new narrative of perspective? Is this even our right? As music swells to pull me from the line of introspection, the drum steadily grows in dynamic, this is no time for self reflection. Chants call the violin in to sing along with the vocalist as they converse. Across the room Mohammad’s niece happily cries along to the melody as an unspoken background vocalist, an addition of a woven thread that builds this piece to a deeper completion.
Sitting cross legged whilst being serenaded by the sounds of a cohesive sound trio that weaves 800 years of stories, lives and heritage tightly together in less than 30 minutes. It takes all of me to remain present. It takes all of me to remind myself to notate this moment to capture the feelings of nostalgia for a home I’ve never laid foot to soil. How many ancestors have danced in the room whilst we sit in awe over their present gift of sound?
When we think of an interference it’s often with the connotation of an unwelcome disruption. However Mohammad’s exhibition reminds us of our roles in other’s lives. What a humbling recognition that as a society we are naturally intertwined. It is inevitable to disrupt someone’s space, or their flow of thought- and these are in the daily interactions we have- imagine the powerful effect we have on each other on a much grander scale as we shape and restructure society’s culture to make way for a more empathetic world.