SARAH HICKSON PHOTOGRAPHY BLOG

There’s a painted mural in the Southern Moroccan town of M’Hamid El Ghizlane of a caravan of camels, and at the top is written “Tombouctou 50 Jours” (Timbuktu 50 days). Although the last of the traditional trans–Saharan trading caravans left M’Hamid for Timbuktu in the 1930′s, M’Hamid’s long history as the meeting point for nomads setting off across the desert continues to resonate, not least through the Taragalte Festival, which the Sbai brothers Ibrahim and Halim created in 2009. The festival celebrates the rich nomadic heritage of the region, and reinvigorates a strong sense of community based on cultural exchange and diversity. At its heart is also a commitment to protect the fragile natural environment and raise awareness of the threat of desertification in the region.

This year the Taragalte Festival welcomed musicians from the Zagora region, across Morocco, Mali (including a strong presence of artists from the Timbuktu area), Algeria, Mauritania and France. The festival’s temporary stage has a magical setting, which is both intimate and majestic, nestled in the undulating dunes beneath a vast, star-filled sky.    

TINARIWEN (NORTHERN MALI)

There was great excitement around the presence of Tinariwen, the renowned Touareg collective from Northern Mali, who performed at the very first edition of the Taragalte Festival in 2009. Earlier this year Tinariwen recorded their new album, Elwan, in a make-shift studio in the desert, just a few kilometres from the festival site. The album is due to be released in February 2017, and this much anticipated performance under the stars was a prelude to their international tour and the album release.  They didn’t disappoint.

By the time the six musicians make their entrance on stage in dazzling gold and white flowing robes it’s 1 o’clock in the morning.  Abdallah Ag Alhousseyni acknowledges the cheering crowd. 

Gritty, bluesy guitar riffs intertwined with gravelly vocals, infectious rhythms on the djembe and a solid bass line soon have the audience swaying, clapping and dancing.

Alhassane Ag Touhami in his magnificent gold robe, dances with jerky, yet elegant movements, his head and arms bobbing like a puppet on a string. His eyes twinkle below his dark bronze cheche.

There’s also an inherent longing and a restless quality in Tinariwen’s music. Ibrahim Ag Alhabib (Abdallah), the founder of Tinariwen, exudes a quiet, melancholic intensity. He paces the stage with his gold electric guitar, the lights catching his mane of grey curly hair and etched face.

Abdallah Ag Alhousseyni encourages the audience to join in.

At other times his presence is more introspective.

Tinariwen’s set comes to a close around 2.30am, and reluctantly the audience disperses across the floodlit sand.

OUM (MOROCCO)

Earlier that evening Oum, the Moroccan singer and Patron of the Taragalte Festival introduces tracks from her most recent album Zarabi. The album title translates as ‘Carpets’; Oum has drawn her inspiration for this album from the colourful and intricate hand-woven rugs made by the women of M’Hamid, and her music reflects this vibrant craft, with its subtle interweaving of traditional musical styles and more contemporary, jazz inflections.

Brahim Laghfiri from Génération Taragalte in the audience, before Oum comes on stage

Oum makes an entrance in a striking red dress, adorned with heavy jewellery

On stage with Oum - Yacir Rami (oud) and Damian Nueva (bass)

The tracks on Oum’s latest album draw on many different musical styles and cultures – from Sufi to jazz, traditional Gnawa trance to Latin-inspired rhythms. The music is multi-layered, polyphonic, at times delicate like lace, at other moments more passionate and hard-hitting. The musical conversations across the stage between Oum and the members of her band are a joy to experience.

Oum with Yacir Rami (oud), Camille Passeri (trumpet) and Natascha Rogers (percussion)

Yacir Rami (oud) with Oum

At times I feel as if I’m looking at a scene from a Spanish Baroque painting.

Yacir Rami (oud) with Camille Passeri (trumpet)

Damian Nueva, bass

Camille Passeri, trumpet

Natascha Rogers, percussion

If you’d like to see pictures of Oum at the 2013 Taragalte Festival, click here.

AZIZ SAHMAOUI (MOROCCO)

The Moroccan singer Aziz Sahmaoui is no stranger to the Taragalte Festival, and there’s an eager crowd waiting for him and his band, University of Gnawa, to come on stage.

Aziz Sahmaoui’s poetry speaks of the beauty of the desert, of nature, of love. His music is lyrical, hypnotic and energetic. 

Aziz Sahmaoui on mandole, and Adhil Mirghani on percussion

Aziz Sahmaoui on ngoni, and Adhil Mirghani on percussion

The atmosphere is electric as Aziz encourages the audience from the stage. 

Aziz Sahmaoui with Hilaire Penda on bass

Aziz Sahmaoui and Amen Viana (electric guitar)

Hilaire Penda, bass

Amen Viana, electric guitar

Amen Viana, Aziz Sahmaoui, Adhil Mirghani 

Ibraham Sbai, Artistic Director of the Taragalte Festival, congratulates Aziz Sahmaoui as he comes off stage 

IMARHAN N’TINEZRAF (ALGERIA)

Imarhan N’Tinezraf from Algeria take the first night of the festival by storm. Their music draws very much on Touareg traditions, with the immediately recognisable electric guitar riffs and a steady, hypnotic beat, but it’s infused with more contemporary elements of jazz, rock and blues, and the energy of Algerian Rai music.

Hicham Bouhasse (calabash)

Frontman Iyad Moussa Ben Abderahmane, aka Sadam

Hicham Bouhasse (calabash), with Abdelkader Ourzig (guitar)

Iyad Moussa Ben Abderahmane, aka Sadam

Hicham Bouhasse 

Hicham Bouhasse 

Haiballah Akhamouk (calabash)

About halfway through Imarhan N’Tinezraf’s set, the festival’s guest of honour, the U.S. Ambassador to Morocco, arrives with Halim Sbai. With the earlier formalities of the day over, the Ambassador and his colleagues appear relaxed as they make themselves comfortable on the carpet that’s just been hastily laid out on the sand.

U.S. Ambassador Bush with Halim Sbai watching Imarhan N’Tinezraf on stage

Members of the audience dancing to Imarhan N’Tinezraf

Waiting for the next act...

LA CARAVANE CULTURELLE POUR LA PAIX

For several years now the Taragalte Festival has been working in collaboration with two Malian music festivals - the Festival in the Desert (formerly in Timbuktu and currently in exile), and the Festival on the Niger in Ségou. Together they created La Caravane Culturelle Pour la Paix (Cultural Caravan for Peace) - a Trans-Saharan / Sahel project bringing together musicians from different regions and ethnic backgrounds to promote a message of peace and cultural diversity.

Samba Touré waiting backstage 

Cheick Siriman Sissoko, backstage

Mariam Koné performing with the Cultural Caravan for Peace

Ben Zabo performing with the Cultural Caravan for Peace

There’s more about Ben Zabo at the last edition of the Taragalte Festival here. 

Samba Touré and Mariam Koné, Cultural Caravan for Peace

Ahmed Ag Kaedy, Cultural Caravan for Peace

Cheick Siriman Sissoko, Cultural Caravan for Peace

Fadimata Walet Oumar, aka Disco, performing with the Cultural Caravan for Peace

Binabina Samaké, Cultural Caravan for Peace

Members of the audience enjoying the music from the dunes at the side of the stage - including the band Daraa Tribes (seen here seated on the right)

Hawa Maïga

Hawa Maïga

Hawa Maïga

An effervescent set from the musicians of the Cultural Caravan for Peace, and an enthusiastic response from the crowd

DARAA TRIBES (MOROCCO)

The young musicians in the band Daraa Tribes come from different ethnic groups in the Daraa Valley region of South Morocco.

They are joined on stage for this performance by percussionist Natascha Rogers, who played the previous night with Oum.

Natascha Rogers, percussion

Balkier Razgui, lead vocalist and drums, with Natascha Rogers on percussion

Rachid Berazougui, guitar

Balkier Razgui, lead vocalist and drums

Guest artist with Daraa Tribes, playing the traditional krakebs

Natascha Rogers (percussion), Abdelkbir Saadi (bass)

GENERATION TARAGALTE (M’HAMID, MOROCCO)

Génération Taragalte is a young band that has grown up with the festival, and has a loyal following. These musicians all come from M’Hamid, and they take much of their inspiration from Tinariwen. 

Génération Taragalte

Mohamed Lagrissi, djembe

Brahim Laghfiri, vocals and guitar

Moustapha Jardouj, bass

Saïd Jardouj, guitar

Génération Taragalte acknowledging their fans 

Here’s a link to a post about Génération Taragalte at the 2015 festival. 

IMARHAN TIMBUKTU (NORTHERN MALI)

Imarhan Timbuktu, led by Mohamed Issa Ag Oumar, brings together renowned musicians from the Timbuktu region of Northern Mali.

Imarhan Timbuktu and guests

Mohamed Issa Ag Oumar and Fadimata Walet Oumar, aka Disco

Abdallah Ag Alhousseyni from Tinariwen joins Mohamed Issa Ag Oumar on stage

Abdallah Ag Alhousseyni from Tinariwen on stage with Imarhan Timbuktu

Samba Touré and a young Touareg dancer join Imarhan Timbuktu on stage

An enthusiastic dancer from the audience surprises everyone by managing briefly to evade security and get on stage. His passion for the music and his need to express himself shines through.

Imarhan Timbuktu and guests

KHAIRA ARBY (TIMBUKTU, MALI)

Khaira Arby from Northern Mali is the acknowledged ‘Queen of the Desert Blues’, and her performance certainly leaves the audience in no doubt of this.

Her huge voice commands authority, and between songs she speaks out powerfully in support of womens’ rights. 

She has a fabulous band of musicians on stage with her and there’s an infectious rapport between them.

Above all, it’s clear they’re having a great time. 

And the crowd responds accordingly.

GROUPE HASSANI (MAURITANIA)

Groupe Hassani from Mauritania also know how to enjoy themselves on stage. Quite how they manage to perform such athletic dance moves without kicking a mic stand, or tripping over the monitors, I have no idea. 

Groupe Hassani from Mauritania

Young women in the audience join in the dancing

A moment of stillness on stage after the flamboyant dancing

AWEK (FRANCE)

From traditional Mauritanian music we move to the American blues, with French band Awek.

Stéphane Bertolino, harmonica; Bernard Sellam, vocals and guitar

Bernard Sellam, vocals and guitar with Joël Ferron, bass

Stéphane Bertolino, harmonica

Awek: Stéphane Bertolini (harmonica), Bernard Sellam (vocals and guitar), Olivier Trebel (drums), Joël Ferron (bass)

Stéphane Bertolino, harmonica

Bernard Sellam, vocals and guitar

GROUPE AMAZIGH AMADIAZ BAND (MOROCCO)

From the brief conversation I have backstage with members of the Berber Groupe Amazigh Amadiaz Band, I learn that this is mostly a band of brothers, and that they fit their touring schedule around their full-time jobs as school teachers. 

Banjo-playing Groupe Amazigh Amadiaz Band waiting to go on stage

The audience watching Groupe Amazigh Amadiaz Band 

There’s something so exhilarating and seductive about listening to all these artists in the Moroccan Sahara. Maybe it’s the way the sound carries across the dunes, or the sweetness of the cool night air. It’s also the powerful and deep-rooted sense of community embedded in this historic oasis. M’Hamid has welcomed nomadic merchants from across the Sahel for hundreds of years, warmly embracing many different cultures, ethnicities and languages. The trade was not just economic, however; stories, poetry, music and traditions were also shared between the families who gathered here, or were travelling through. A generous spirit of cultural exchange, peace and diversity is in the DNA of this desert location, making the Taragalte Festival an unforgettable experience. 

I’ve recently returned from ten days in M’Hamid El Ghizlane in the Sahara Desert where I was photographing the Taragalte Festival - a celebration of nomadic culture, reminiscent of the Moussem which marked the departure of the traditional trading caravans between the oasis town of M’Hamid in South Morocco and Timbuktu in Northern Mali. The festival, now in its 7th edition, is a partnership with the exiled Festival in the Desert (formerly in Timbuktu) and the Festival sur le Niger in Ségou, Mali, and features three days of live music from the local region and across North and West Africa, new artistic collaborations, environmental and education programmes, as well as celebrating nomadic traditions and heritage. 

Here’s a glimpse of the experience:

On the road between Ouarzazate and M’Hamid - driving through the rain with musicians from Mali, including Ben Zabo, pictured here. 

Looking through the blue-tinted windows of the minibus, the view blurred by rain 

Malian musicians Ben Zabo, Mariam Koné and Ahmed Ag Kaedi huddled by the side of the road on the way to Zagora, whilst the puncture was repaired... 

A few portraits taken en route:

Malian singer Mariam Koné 

Khalid Smaali, Sound Engineer

Malian musician, Samba Touré

Mariam Koné and Ben Zabo, against the stunning backdrop of the palm grove and the mountains.

Musicians Ahmed Ag Kaedi and Samba Touré 

A heavy load, spotted going in the opposite direction on the Zagora road 

It’s still raining hard as we approach the outskirts of M’Hamid

Arriving in M’Hamid at the festival headquarters / local cafe / bus station 

The water-logged grounds of the Oasis Mille et une Nuits in M’Hamid where I stay that night  

Driving across the dunes to the Petit Prince bivouac the next morning - the desert camp where the festival takes place, about 5 miles from M’Hamid.

Catching up on lost time with the stage build and preparation of the festival site

Allyson, Co-ordinator of the festival volunteers

The sun rising behind the dunes

Traces of animal life...

Patterns in the sand echoed in the woven fabrics of the bivouac and in the decoration of the lanterns and urns

Even the festival cat blends in

Early morning portrait - how to accessorise in the desert

Members of the Algerian band Imarhan N’Tinezraf arriving at the bivouac 

The group Daraa Tribes

Saïd Jarjouj from the M’Hamid-based band Génération Taragalte and Iyad Moussa Ben Abderahmane, aka Sadam, lead singer of the Algerian group Imarhan N’Tinezraf

Late-afternoon light

Cracked earth, despite the rain

Artists and festival-goers arrive in 4x4 vehicles, leaving a trail of dust in their wake

Looking across towards the festival site shortly before dusk

This old wall close to the bivouac marking the boundary of the site for the new music school Joudour Sahara, a collaboration between the festival and the US foundation Playing for Change - designed by Moroccan architect Aziza Chaouni 

Architect Aziza Chaouni and Project Coordinator Thomas Duncan work by candlelight to put the finishing touches to the model of the music school, in time for the official launch

Young women in traditional dress preparing for the festival’s opening ceremony 

Traditional groups in pristine white robes beat out hypnotic rhythms and sing trance-like chants 

Krakebs - traditional metal castanets

The camel riders kick their bare feet against the camel’s haunches and race across the dunes, scattering the crowds to either side

The official line-up of directors, distinguished guests and important members of the local community standing patiently in the searing afternoon heat, waiting for the arrival of the guest of honour, the U.S. Ambassador to Morocco

Hester Ezra 

A sneaky selfie with Ibrahim Sbai, Artistic Director of the Taragalte Festival

U.S. Ambassador Dwight L. Bush Sr, with Halim Sbai, Director of the Taragalte Festival

Ambassador Bush and his wife are greeted by the festival delegation

Ambassador Bush with Abdelghani Samoudi, Governor of Zagora 

Moroccan singer and Patron of the Taragalte Festival Oum introducing Ambassador Bush to the skilled women of M’Hamid 

Ambassador Bush admiring the children’s artwork  

Festival-goers gather at the bivouac gathering for the official speeches

Ambassador Bush just before his speech in which he announces that the Joudour Sahara music school is a recipient of the 2016 Ambassadors Fund for Cultural Preservation. This grant will be used to document and preserve the rich cultural heritage in the region

The official delegation at the inauguration of the festival. The drawing shows the plans for the music school

After the speeches the crowds gather on the dunes for more music, dance and camel racing

  Exhausted performers, at the end of a long day

During the festival there are plenty of opportunities for informal music-making -  spontaneous gatherings under the shade of a Berber tent, accompanied by foaming, bitter-sweet tea served in tiny glasses

Groupe Hassani from Mauritania

Abdallah Ag Alhousseyni from Tinariwen

Yacir Rami on lute, with Hind Bendahou on calabash

Mohamed Issa Ag Oumar

Members of Groupe Hassani dancing

Young musicians jamming on guitars late into the night

Tommy Dahill and his banjo - all the way from Alaska, pictured here with the festival’s resident astronomer, Younes Jamjari

Rich colours of the desert

Balkier Razgui from Daraa Tribes 

Moroccan singer Oum with women and children from the nearby villages

A series of discussions, conversations and debates accompanies the festival’s live programme. The environment, climate change, the role of culture, regional and global politics, restoring peace in Northern Mali, nomadic heritage, migration, education are some of the topics discussed. 

Halim Sbai, Director of the Taragalte Festival, talking at one of the programmed debates

Fadimata Walett Omar, aka Disko, leader of the Touareg group Tartit, from the Northern Timbuktu region 

Combatting desertification is one of the key issues for the region. The Sahara-Roots Foundation is a long-standing partner of the Taragalte Festival.

Sahara Roots and artists planting trees using the unique water box method - near the site of the Joudour Sahara music school

Wanda Hebly of Sahara Roots demonstrating the water box method for planting trees in the desert

Young musicians participating in workshops organised by the Joudour Sahara music school 

Samira Dainan leading music workshops with the young people from M’Hamid

Architect Aziza Chaouni, sharing her designs for the school 

My next post will focus on the musicians and performances at the 2016 Taragalte Festival..... 

Missy Fatale on stage as part of the Wilderness Playhouse Tricks and Tease Cabaret Night in The Mix. 

Studio three sixty’s latest creation - The Mix - is an innovative pop-up venue, which combines cutting-edge technology and high design values with flexibility and an intimate atmosphere.  At its launch at Wilderness Festival last month, The Mix became the festival’s Playhouse, hosting a variety of shows - from cabaret to chamber opera, theatre to stand-up, experimental writing to racy burlesque. 

Rosie Cheeks’ contortions brought gasps from the audience.

Dunja’s surreal “La Foule” was both playful and dark.

Kitty Bang Bang’s fire-eating act had plenty of attitude.

While Missy Fatale captured the glamour and decadence of the 1920s with her  stylish burlesque performance. 

Ferkel - a charmingly melancholic clown with a mischievous grin shared provocative poetry and song.

Pop-up Opera presented Emmanuel Chabrier’s rarely-performed and zany operetta, set in the time of Louis XVI, “Une Education Manquée”.

Bristol-based theatre company Idiot Child in collaboration with Bristol Old Vic’s artist development programme, Ferment, shared a scratch performance of their latest production, “What if the plane falls out of the sky?”, a humorous exploration of how we deal with fear.

And there was Superbolt Theatre’s parody of Jurassic Park - “Dinosaur Park”, a big hit in Edinburgh last year. 

The Wardrobe Ensemble explored the story of the class of ‘72 in their play “1972: The Future of Sex”.

And The Salon:collective entertained audiences with an unusual approach to performing Shakespeare, where the actors just learn their lines and their cues, but don’t read the play. The method the Bard himself employed, apparently....

A couple of weeks ago, Studio three sixty commissioned me to photograph the launch of their new pop-up venue The Mix at Wilderness. Designed by Emma Chapman, Lucy Osborne and Howard Eaton, who between them have an extraordinary range of theatrical, lighting and design experience, The Mix is a sophisticated, contemporary and adaptable space, yet it still feels comfortable and welcoming. 

These photographs are a snapshot of The Mix’s debut, taken over 24 hours in the relaxed setting of Wilderness Festival in rural Oxfordshire.

Perhaps the most unique feature of The Mix is the state-of-the-art lighting system, skilfully built into the architecture, and using the latest LED technology to enable multiple colours and effects at the push of a button.

The Salon Collective in technical rehearsal for “Shakespeare Direct”

A packed house for Cabaret Night 

The sleek auditorium seating has been specially developed for The Mix by pioneering furniture designer Felix de Pass. 

At different times of day the honey-comb composite wall material creates intriguing reflections, shadows and light patterns, making the venue itself a playful work of art. 

I love these beautifully crafted copper lamps which add drama to the foyer spaces.

Looking out towards the festival site from The Mix foyer

Audiences waiting for the next performance at The Mix

The shows programmed in The Mix at Wilderness ranged from theatre to stand-up, chamber opera to cabaret. In my next post I’ll be sharing some of the images I took of the performances. 

With its flexible performance space and adaptable front of house areas, I can see The Mix being snapped up by all kinds of organisations for festivals, performances and launches, as well as for corporate and private events  - take a look at the spec in more detail here.

A troupe of musicians with The Calais Sessions walking through the ‘Jungle’ including musicians living in the camp, Vanessa Lucas-Smith (cello) and members of the band Molotov Jukebox (Natalia Tena / accordion & Steve Apley / violin)

The Calais Sessions album is out!  Featuring tracks recorded in a makeshift studio in the ‘Jungle’ refugee camp in Calais since September 2015, the album includes songs by musicians living in the camp, as well as collaborations with musicians from the UK, led by the cellist Vanessa Lucas-Smith, the creative talent behind The Calais Sessions. There’s raw Syrian folk song, an Ethiopian gospel lullaby, Sudanese drumming, infectious Afghan pop, a Bollywood-inspired collaboration, and poetic ‘mawwal’ improvisation.

This is the studio where many of the tracks were recorded - a fragile wooden shelter covered in blue tarpaulin, billowing noisily in the wind. 

I’m very proud to have been part of this extraordinary project, and to have  helped to share the music, the voices and the stories of some of the displaced people who ended up in the Calais ‘Jungle’, having fled their homes in Syria, Iraq, Kurdistan, Afghanistan, Sudan, Ethiopia, Eritrea and elsewhere. Their  music on this unique album reminds us all of our shared humanity and the need for our stories to be told and shared. 

Within the first week of sales The Calais Sessions album was the bestseller world music album on Bandcamp and no. 16 in their overall bestsellers and no. 7 in the itunes world music charts.

The album is available to buy through The Calais Sessions website.

Or from Bandcamp.

Please buy if you are able - as a digital album, or as a unique CD (the CD booklet includes some of my photos of The Calais Sessions taken over the past 8 months). Proceeds go to Citizens UK and donations to the refugee musicians on the album. 

Buying from PayPal (via The Calais Sessions website) means you are purchasing a physical CD. You will be prompted for your address. If you buy from Bandcamp you can purchase a digital or physical album and you can also name your price. iTunes has its own pricing scheme and takes a large cut. All proceeds are for charitable purposes - to the refugees themselves and to Citizens UK. We would prefer you to use PayPal or Bandcamp, so as much money can go to its rightful place.

I spent most of last week with the incredible Good Chance team, photographing Encampment, the Good Chance theatre dome’s residency on Southbank Centre’s river terrace. The Good Chance dome, originally created in the Calais ‘Jungle’, is a space of welcome, solidarity and openness. In residence at Southbank Centre as part of the Festival of Love, it sparked curiosity and empathy amongst audiences and passers-by alike. It was a week filled with so much joy, hope and generosity, and a terrific programme of performances and important, thought-provoking discussions.  

One of the highlights of the week was a brilliant performance by Cush Jumbo of a play with a difference - “White Rabbit, Red Rabbit” by the Iranian writer Nassim Soleimanpour.  Soleimanpour specifies that the actor should not see the script before stepping onto the stage. The text was sealed inside an envelope, and Cush Jumbo had no idea of its content until she opened the envelope just before the scheduled performance time. 

There’s a lovely review here in The Stage - including one of my photographs of the performance. 

I’m a member of a photography group (a satellite group of London Independent Photography), which meets once a month at the Greenwich Gallery. It’s fair to say that we’re an eclectic bunch, with very different photographic practices, which makes for wide-ranging conversations. The group’s organiser, John Levett never fails to steer a steady course through the discussions, managing to be both supportive and encouraging, whilst making astute observations and asking thoughtful questions.  

Each August we put on a small exhibition - the Greenwich Annuale. As members, we are all invited to submit one printed image, and up to six additional digital images for inclusion in a show reel. There is no theme to the exhibition - the design of the installation is a direct response to the selection of work submitted, and reflects a surprising selection of styles and genres.

This year I have submitted photographs from a project that I worked on a few months ago when I travelled to the refugee camps in Northern Greece to photograph the work of Clowns Without Borders UK. Clowns Without Borders is a charity that uses physical theatre and clowning to encourage children living in crisis to laugh, play, and for a short while at least, to forget their struggles - allowing them simply to be children. 

I’m preparing a longer blog post about the project and my experience working with Clowns Without Borders, but for now, here are the images currently on show at the Greenwich Gallery:

Clowns Without Borders UK performing for displaced children in a refugee camp in Northern Greece, April 2016 (with performers Marion Duggan & Inda Pereda)

A large audience of displaced families and children gather on the train tracks in the disused railway station at Idomeni, Northern Greece for a performance by Clowns Without Borders UK

Children living in the refugee camp at Idomeni, Northern Greece, form an enormous circle amidst the tents and makeshift shelters to play games with performers from Clowns Without Borders UK

Neil Frost from Clowns Without Borders UK bringing laughter to children in the informal refugee camp at the EKO service station in Northern Greece, on the highway between Thessaloniki and Idomeni

Children in the Idomeni refugee camp playing in the deep puddles which formed after a violent thunderstorm 

The magic of theatre - girls entranced by Clowns Without Borders UK performance - in the disused railway station at Idomeni refugee camp 

Laughter connects. Performer Neil Frost reaching out a hand to a young boy during a performance by Clowns Without Borders UK in a refugee camp in Northern Greece. (Also in this photograph, performer Dan Lees)

The private view of the Greenwich Annuale is today, Thursday 11 August, 6.30pm - 8.30pm (please let me know if you’d like to pop by) and the exhibition is on until 21 August. There’s also a Critic’s evening on Thursday 18 August, devoted to critique of the work on show. The invited critics are Mike Seaborne, photographer and ex-curator of photographs at the Museum of London and Valeria Carullo, curator of the Robert Elwall Photographs Collection at the Royal Institute of British Architects. 

The Greenwich Gallery is 5 minutes from both Greenwich Station (National Rail / DLR) and Cutty Sark (DLR):

Linear House Peyton Place London SE10 8RS

I've been privileged to be part of The Migration Museum's latest project, "Call me by my name: Stories from Calais and beyond". This thoughtful and important exhibition explores the human stories of the Calais refugee camp through words, photographs, drawings, sculpture, video and installations. (The powerful work pictured above - “Wanderers” by Nikolaj Bendix Skyum Larsen - is the first piece visitors encounter as they enter the gallery). 

I have heard reactions from visitors to the exhibition saying how much it has moved them, how they have seen aspects of the Calais camp that they have not seen in the media - images that have challenged their previously held views about the 'Jungle'.

There are many stories to be told - many of them complex and painful. But there are also stories of hope, love, resilience and above all, of humanity and community. With just a few days to go before the EU referendum, and amidst a terrifying build-up of misleading, fear-fuelling propaganda in the media in recent weeks, I feel more strongly than ever that we need to continue building communities, to acknowledge our shared histories, and seek out the things that connect us rather than what we think divides us. This exhibition couldn’t have come at a more critical time.

These are the eight images I have in the exhibition - all taken during visits to the ‘Jungle’ with The Calais Sessions between December 2015 and April 2016.

The simple wooden shelter The Calais Sessions use as a makeshift recording studio is normally a designated space for language lessons or other classes.  When it’s not being used for teaching, it’s a reading room, or simply a warm and dry space to sit, chat, and just hang out. The arrival of musicians and instruments in the ‘Jungle’ always attracts a crowd, and so the studio becomes an informal meeting place for many different people, languages and cultures.

In the shelter next to the Kabul Café in what used to be the heart of the Southern area of the camp before it was bulldozed earlier this year, traditional fabrics lined the walls and ceilings, and rugs covered the seating area around the edge of the room. Cigarette smoke hung in the air. Urged on by the clapping and drumming, young men got up to dance, whilst others joined in the singing. The faces of these young men, stranded in Calais, lit up. The strength of the human spirit and the need to connect shines through in the toughest of circumstances. 

As night falls in the Calais ‘Jungle’, the pounding generators kick into action - like a queue of trucks waiting to drive off. In this area of the camp bright white street lamps illuminated the water-logged road, casting milky reflections in the puddles.  Here the tents and flimsy tarpaulin shelters gave way to a string of bustling cafes, restaurants and small convenience stores run by refugees. Restaurants offered the comfort of home-cooked food, strong sweet tea and coffee and a warm place to hang out, smoke, play cards, or simply watch music videos on the TV. 

Abdullah’s woollen hat frames his face tightly, accentuating his dark eyes. The studio falls silent and he begins to sing. His tone is sweet and mellifluous; short and simple phrases become more elaborate as his poetic improvisation intensifies. Abdullah is a Kuwaiti Bedoon. The Bedoon have no passports, and no right to education, health care, housing or work, and are often marginalized and persecuted. You can read more about Abdullah in this previous blog post. 

The generosity with which Abdullah shared his music and stories, and the beauty of his singing was one of many memorable experiences on my first trip with The Calais Sessions back in December. 

Ismail is from Afghanistan. He’s an accomplished singer, and plays the dambora, a traditional, two-stringed, long-necked lute. Ismail tells us the harrowing story of why he fled Afghanistan with his wife and children. He rolls up his right sleeve to reveal burn scars, explaining that the Taliban plunged his arm into scalding water to prevent him from playing. He also shows us a gun-shot wound to his stomach. As he records in the makeshift studio, Ismail is completely immersed in the music – animated and exuberant one moment, reflective and absorbed the next. There’s more about Ismail and his recording session here. 

The modest church in the Jungle where a small community of Ethiopians and Eritreans regularly gathered was demolished less than 24 hours after we met a group of women there one Sunday morning in January 2016. The perimeter zone of the camp had already been systematically cleared by the French authorities, yet the church tent stood strong.  

After a couple of songs led by the UK group Get Gospel, the Pastor encouraged the women in the congregation to sing one of their traditional songs of praise. What followed was a beautiful exchange of music, prayers and worship.  Later the Ethiopian women taught the members of Get Gospel some of their songs, which they then recorded together in the makeshift studio. Read more about this story here. 

“Call me by my name: Stories from Calais and beyond” is at the Londonewcastle Project Space in Shoreditch until Thursday 22 June.  It’s free, and is open from 12 - 8pm each day (apart from this Wednesday when it closes early for a panel discussion at 6pm about people smuggling).

You can read earlier posts about my visits to Calais with The Calais Sessions:

The Calais Sessions in the ‘Jungle’ - Part II

The Calais Sessions - a space for sharing music in the ‘Jungle’ 

Along the coast from Calais, just outside Dunkirk, there is a second refugee camp - the Grande-Synthe, where most of the refugees are Kurds from Iraq, Syria and Iran. Conditions are even more squalid than in the ‘Jungle’; clean water, toilets, wooden shelters and other basic amenities are in short supply. Unlike the camp in Calais, there is no organised distribution centre, and most of the refugees are living in lightweight tents, or under lengths of tarpaulin pinned to the ground with boulders. 

Strips of cardboard and corrugated iron have been laid across the mud in an attempt to create some navigable pathways, but the majority of this camp is completely waterlogged. Sanitation is pretty-much non-existent, dead rats lie in the mud, and infections inevitably spread fast. With many more families, women and young children living in the Grande-Synthe camp than in Calais, the situation is desperate.  

Stories abound of the police preventing people from bringing in supplies and donations, although we see a lot of volunteers in the camp, including a group of British Asians who we’d met at our hostel at breakfast that morning. They had raised money from their home town in Yorkshire to buy basic foodstuffs for refugees, and we help them carry large bags of rice to the communal kitchen in the centre of the camp.

The supply of wind-up lamps we brought to distribute amongst the families are gladly received. As we walk amidst the misery and oozing mud, we meet a mother and her five adult sons - Iraqi Kurds - who invite us into one of the few wooden structures in the camp. We spend an hour or so there, listening to their stories of courage, hope, despair and resilience. 

Ness from the Calais Sessions and two of the sons test out the wind-up lamp, charging it from a mobile phone. 

It doesn’t take long for the stories to turn into song. Benedict joins in on the viola, improvising around the traditional Iraqi Kurdish melody. 

After hearing their stories, and sharing their music, we ask if Roonak, the mother, would like to record her thoughts on her family’s plight, and the situation in the camp. Her moving message to people in the UK and Europe has been transcribed and translated here. You can also see a short film made by The Calais Sessions of our time at the Grande-Synthe camp.  

As night falls in the Calais ‘Jungle’, the pounding generators kick into action - like a queue of trucks waiting to drive off. Bright white street lamps illuminate the water-logged road through the camp, casting milky reflections in the puddles. Water drips steadily into the mud from the stand pipe.  

Just a few minutes’ walk down one of the pot-holed, muddy roads that dissects the camp, the tents and flimsy tarpaulin shelters give way to a string of bustling cafes, restaurants and small convenience stores run by refugees. Restaurants such as the Kabul Cafe offer a taste of home-cooked food, strong sweet tea and coffee and a warm place to hang out, smoke, play cards, or simply watch music videos on the TV. 

The interior lights glisten through the beads of condensation running down the  plastic windows. 

The cafes are full, but there are also lots of young men just hanging around on the road, chatting, or queuing to buy cigarettes. There are no women here; the few we met during the day are no longer around after dark. Once again, the musical instruments we’re carrying attract attention, and a crowd gathers around as a young man on a bicycle takes the darbuka and starts to play, his fingers flying nimbly across the skin.  

In the shelter next to the Kabul Cafe traditional fabrics line the walls and ceilings, and rugs cover the seating area around the edge of the room. Cigarette smoke hangs in the air. Urged on by the clapping and drumming, men get up to dance, and others join in the singing.  There’s a brief burst of energy in the room, and faces light up. The strength of the human spirit, and the need to connect shines through in the toughest of circumstances. 

We return to the Kabul Cafe to buy dinner. 

The food smells delicious and I realise how hungry I am. I ask the man serving us if he’s the chef, and he smiles modestly. 

For €5 a head we’re served generous portions of rice with vegetables, kidney beans, lamb stew, lentil dhal and chicken drumsticks -  packed up for us in individual polystyrene boxes, and wrapped in foil.

This modest church in the Calais ‘Jungle’ where a small community of Ethiopian and Eritrean refugees regularly gathered was demolished last week - less than 24 hours after I took these photos. 

I’m here on my second visit to the Jungle with The Calais Sessions - a group of UK-based musicians and music-industry professionals who make regular trips to the refugee camps in Northern France to connect with musicians there and to facilitate an informal space for sharing and recording music. On this visit we were privileged to have four wonderful singers from the UK-based choir Get Gospel with us. 

There aren’t too many people up and about on Sunday morning. It’s been raining hard for several days now, and the leaden sky weighs heavily. Deep puddles stretch across the main track through the camp, and my boots sink deeply into the slippery mud.

The perimeter zone of the Jungle that has been systematically cleared by the authorities in the last couple of weeks ago bears the scars of hasty demolition; discarded clothes, blankets, plastic sheeting, insulating material, the odd shoe, mattresses, are strewn across the muddy ground where tents and fragile shelters once stood.

Encircled by neat wooden structures, the church is a small island of security, warmth and friendship - creating a sense of order and belonging amidst the general uncertainty, squalor and desolation. The simple wooden cross nailed to the entrance stands proudly against the brooding February clouds. 

Smiling broadly, and shaking each of us by the hand, the Presbyterian Pastor ushers us into the tent that serves as a place of worship. It’s relatively warm and dry - with a wooden floor and an electricity supply.  Some of the congregation have begun to set out rows of chairs, ready for the morning service, which we are invited to join.

Jules from Get Gospel explains to the Pastor that they would love to take part in the service and exchange songs with the congregation. The Pastor seems delighted and agrees enthusiastically, especially when Jules suggests that they would like to begin with “Amazing Grace”. After a couple of songs led by Get Gospel, the Pastor encourages the Ethiopian and Eritrean women in the congregation to sing one of their own traditional songs of praise. What follows is a beautiful exchange of songs, prayers and worship between Get Gospel and the Ethiopian and Eritrean women. The Pastor, who has been singing energetically throughout the service, then delivers some wise and comforting words on the subject of compassion and makes a closing prayer. 

The women’s songs are so moving and we would love to enable their voices to be heard more widely, So at the end of the service, after we’ve all been offered coffee, Jules tentatively asks the women if they would like to record a couple of their songs for the Calais Sessions. You can imagine how thrilled everyone is when they agree, not only to record, but to teach their songs to Get Gospel so that they can perform together. 

We’re all about to walk the short distance to Jungle Books, where the Calais Sessions’ makeshift studio has been set up. I feel the Pastor hesitate for a moment as we leave the church. I ask him what’s wrong, and he points to a viscous cloud of white smoke rising above the trees a short distance away near the road. It’s tear gas. 

There are police sirens blaring, and people are running across the wasteland next to the church to see what’s going on. 

This is the first time I’ve witnessed tear gas in the Jungle, and although we’re not that close, the acrid smoke soon hits the back of my throat. The atmosphere has shifted rapidly from one of relative calm to something altogether more edgy and tense. 

We wait for things to calm down before hurrying back to Jungle Books. 

Meanwhile, Damien and Ali, the Calais Sessions’ two sound engineers have been working wonders to turn the Jungle Books’ classroom into a fully functioning recording studio. 

During the week there are language lessons and other classes held here. At other times it’s simply a warm and dry space to sit, chat, or just hang out. The music sessions attract a fair bit of attention and there are always people listening, or waiting to take their turn at the microphone. The ongoing challenge is how to encourage people not to wander in an and out during a take. Surprisingly perhaps, the low background chug of the generator just outside the classroom door is less of a problem - Damien somehow manages to remove all trace of it from the final recordings.

Here are a few pictures of the Ethiopian and Eritrean women in the studio preparing to record. 

Ismail is from Afghanistan. He’s a singer, and plays the dambora, a two-stringed, long-necked lute. Attached to the index finger of his right hand is a small metal hook with which he strums the strings, maintaining a regular percussive beat by drumming the body of the instrument at the same time. A bracelet of metal rings adds further rhythm and texture. 

Ismail’s expressions and body language change rapidly when he’s performing – he is animated and laughing one moment, intense and subdued the next.

He also plays Benedict’s viola, and the darbuka (drum). 

Amin joins in on darbuka. 

Damien, the Calais Sessions’ recording engineer takes a break, whilst Ismail talks to us and a couple of journalists. 

He tells us the harrowing story of why he had to flee Afghanistan with his wife and children. He rolls up his sleeve to reveal burn scars and explains that the Taliban plunged his right arm into scalding water to prevent him from playing. He also shows us a gun-shot wound in his stomach. 

He lights a cigarette and walks away, looking into the distance.

Amidst the mud, the cold, the lack of privacy, the uncertainty, after the traumatic experiences many of the refugees have experienced to get to Europe, playing music and singing provides some respite; it brings a brief moment of normality, a little relief from anxiety. It’s a means of bringing people together and communicating with a shared language, it helps people tell stories, to express their feelings, to reconnect with home. The joy of the moment is visible on the musicians’ faces and in their body language as they sing and play. Emotions run high and the energy is powerful. It’s a point of connection that needs no additional explanation or justification.

Ali, the sound engineer for the Calais Sessions throws her energy into setting up the PA system, plugging in microphones, and balancing sound for a variety of musicians and instruments in one of the Jungle Books classrooms.

Vanessa Lucas-Smith (Ness) is the driving force behind The Calais Sessions. She’s also the cellist in the renowned Allegri String Quartet. Ness is pictured here with one of the refugees she met on a previous visit to the Jungle.   Benedict and Gus were the other two London-based musicians for The Calais Sessions’ recent visit in December. We also had the expertise of Damien, a recording engineer, Ali, a sound engineer and Sarah who was filming.

Arriving at the Eurotunnel terminus in Calais, the high-security fences around the port are only too visible, as are the police vans parked at regular intervals along the roads close to the tunnel entrance. 

Given that it’s the Saturday before Christmas, Calais town-centre seems remarkably quiet and drab, with many of the shops and cafes closed. In the hotel car park we sort and re-load the two vehicles with our cargo of sound equipment, speakers, cables, microphones, laptops, video cameras, not to mention a generator and a large bag full of wind-up, rechargeable torches to distribute at the camp.

The conditions in the Jungle are as grim and as challenging as I had expected. The inadequate shelters, makeshift tents, woefully poor sanitation, lack of privacy, limited means of preparing food and staying warm, make each day an unimaginable struggle for the men, women and children who have made long, arduous and dangerous journeys from their home countries to escape persecution, conflict or poverty. Tarpaulins flap in the wind, and flimsy tents collapse into the grey mud. Clothes are spread out to dry amongst the brambles and rubbish. Some dilapidated caravans house families with children.

The Eritrean & Ethiopian Orthodox church constructed out of plastic sheeting and corrugated plastic over a basic wood frame is a prominent landmark in the camp. It has two large blue gates at the entrance, and a simple wooden cross on the roof. By the entrance two bedraggled Christmas trees enhanced with a few strips of aluminium foil are buffeted by the wind.

On the other side of the church is Jungle Books, a volunteer-run library, information and learning centre.

The books are organised alphabetically and by category - everything from children’s books to contemporary and classic novels, engineering text books to English grammar primers. Pinned to the walls are posters and flow charts outlining the essential elements of the asylum process. 

These rooms are welcoming and warm; insulated and heated off-grid with energy produced from a wind turbine on the roof. Thanks to the generosity of Jungle Books, two of their classrooms become our hub for the weekend.

From just behind Jungle Books, a refugee watches the lorries thunder along the main road at the perimeter of the camp towards the Eurotunnel. Whilst another man sits quietly, playing the Arabic flute. 

The drums we’ve brought with us are an obvious calling card, and help spread the word that we’re offering a space to meet other musicians, to play and record music.

Ness’s trumpet attracts attention and is a fun way to break the ice. Everyone wants to have a go – included Rowan one of the volunteers who runs Jungle Books. Ness’s cello also gets passed around.

We wander further into the camp and arrive at the Dome – Good Chance’s arts space from where they run an inspiring programme of theatre, arts and music projects, providing a friendly place to hang out, join in arts-based activities or workshops, share stories and watch performances. 

A little girl of about 6 years old comes to talk to me. She speaks excellent English and she asks me shyly if I know where she can find a guitar, as she really wants to play. Ironically I’ve just seen one, lying amongst the rubble - but it’s snapped in two...

Abdullah’s black and orange woollen hat frames his face tightly, accentuating his dark eyes. He waits patiently as Damien, the sound engineer sets the levels and Sarah checks over her video gear.  

The studio falls silent and Abdullah begins to sing. His tone is sweet and mellifluous – his phrases short and simple at first, but growing in intensity and expression as he gathers confidence. I’m captivated by the directness and openness of his performance, and our applause at the end of his first song is met with an infectious grin.

Abdullah picks up the darbuka and runs his fingers lightly over the skin of the drum, preparing for his next song. 

This is no ordinary recording studio. We’re in a simple wooden shelter in the ‘Jungle’ - the camp near Calais where around 6,000 refugees from the Middle East and Africa are currently living – people from Syria, Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Kuwait, Egypt, Eritrea, Sudan and elsewhere. It’s the weekend before Christmas, and I’m with The Calais Sessions – a group of UK-based musicians and music-industry professionals who make regular visits to the Jungle to connect with musicians here and to facilitate an informal space for sharing music. 

Abdullah is one of the talented musicians we meet. He’s a Kuwaiti Bedoon.   Bedoon comes from the Arabic bedoon jinsiya which means ‘without nationality’, and refers to the diverse group of people who were not given citizenship when Kuwait became an independent state in 1961. As a result the Bedoons have no passports, and no right to education, health care, housing or work, and are often marginalized and under threat.

 The generosity with which Abdullah shared his music and stories, and the beauty of his singing was one of many memorable experiences that weekend. 

The world premiere production of Sarai opened at the Arcola Theatre in Dalston on Friday. I’ve accompanied this project photographically over the last few weeks, and witnessed the epic narrative become a transformative and moving theatrical experience.

Karlina Grace-Paseda worked tirelessly with the writer and director Paul Anthony Morris and choreographer Shane Shambhu to embody a a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and a unique physical language for Sarai as she struggles to make sense of an ancient prophecy. 

The creative process to bring Sarai to the stage has been one of the most collaborative artistic experiences I’ve been involved with. The four musicians have been in the rehearsal room for two weeks, working closely with composer Byron Wallen who has written an exciting musical score that drives the drama and heightens the emotional tension. 

The musicians infuse the performance with a powerful physical presence - each of them bringing a unique musical personality to the piece. 

Nao Masuda on Taiko drums, percussion and celtic harp, Jenny Adejayan on cello. 

Byron Wallen (Composer & Musical Director) on trumpet and flute, Louai Alhenawi on Arabic flute (ney) and Arabic percussion.

Victoria Johnstone’s set design has evolved organically through the rehearsal period, as old clothes and fabric came to symbolise a refuge, a desert, a map, boundaries and borders, babies, children, dead bodies... lives lived.  And  Prema Mehta’s evocative lighting bathed the set in warm, glowing tones. 

Sarai’s story of abandoning her homeland and embarking on an arduous journey has a timeless quality and so much contemporary relevance. It also speaks to us as individuals - searching for purpose in our lives, acknowledging our vulnerability, living compassionately, building communities and fulfilling our dreams. 

Produced by Crying in the Wilderness Productions, Sarai runs until 7 November at the Arcola Theatre. Take a look at the website for the show, and buy tickets here. 

@SaraiArcola

@cryingwildernes

We head into the third week of rehearsals for “SARAI” this week, with actor Karlina Grace-Paseda and Director Paul Anthony Morris. 

Choreographer Shane Shambhu will be joining us later in the week, as will Musical Director Byron Wallen. 

Here are a couple of shots of Karlina as Sarai - resilient, resourceful and reflective.