Community, food and culture are undoubtedly interconnected. A community’s food defines them, offering profound insights into their history and identity. Sharing, or preparing, a meal with others is therefore an intimate experience, bringing people with different practices, rituals and customs together and uniting them through a simple activity.
Nazri, conceived by Sydney-based Iranian musician Dr Shervin Mirzeinali, celebrates this experience. Part music and part dance, it is inspired by the Persian tradition of cooking and sharing food. Featuring three acclaimed musicians from different genres and a contemporary dancer, and using kitchen items and ingredients to create sound, the show depicts cooking both as a physical act for sustenance and a unifying one.
Dancer and choreographer Dr Elnaz Sheshgelani begins the performance. Curled up centre stage and covered by a chador (Iranian veil), she emerges from her slumber and prepares the performance space, sweeping away with a small broom. She then proceeds to depict the process of making a meal, from gathering ingredients to preparing and cooking them. There is no dialogue; instead, her journey is supported (and sometimes dictated) by Maharshi Raval on the tabla, Sohrab Kolahdooz on the tombak, and Niki Johnson on the bass drum, all placed at different ends of the stage, with the occasional sound projection courtesy Mirzeinali and Veronica Barac-Gomez.
It is with the musical acts that the notion of perspective-taking is introduced. We learn about looking at things with a new point of view, when a large circular platter becomes a daf (or dap, a frame drum), an upturned stew pot becomes a tabla, and a saucepan lid becomes a cymbal.
We see the percussionists individually in their own worlds playing their primary instrument, then introducing their worlds to another – by sharing their instruments like food and inviting the other performers to have a go. They each take the bait, playing the offered instruments in their own traditions (such as Kolahdooz playing Raval’s tabla like a tombak, on the knee rather than on the floor). And then, predictably but beautifully, all four performers come to the centre to collaborate on an instrument-substitute (a large cooking pot), to produce a wondrous melody.
The joy on the faces of the musicians as the final piece ends – the only formally written score of Nazri – is unadulterated.
We value our own traditions (read: worldviews), as we should. But if we allow others into our worlds, or step briefly into theirs – even if only in baby steps, such as through food or music – we are setting ourselves up for wonderful new experiences, discoveries, and perhaps, solutions to collective problems.
What makes Nazri shine is its depth. The performers, for example, feed off one another brilliantly. Sheshgelani moves with an intensity matching that of the musicians, sometimes creating a rhythm for them to follow or ceding to the rhythm they create. She also makes music herself as she interacts with cooking pots, kitchen utensils, and ingredients like nuts or lentils.
Individually, each artist is strong. Sheshgelani’s choreography starts engagingly and overcomes a mid-performance lull to display the cooking process in a thoughtful, imaginative way. Raval’s much-acclaimed tabla skills are again on display here, cleverly using his instrument to create the right mood at the right time. Kolahdooz is at his best when he matches Sheshgelani’s rhythm, and his ability with all the instruments he plays is noteworthy. Finally, though Johnson’s bass drum is somewhat under-utilised on its own, it is fascinating when used in combination with another sound-creating object such as a ladle or food item. Sound projection adds a subtle but interesting layer to the show, and the decision to host it in the tiny Local Edition venue pays off. The small performance space creates an intimacy between the audience and the artists which allows Nazri‘s theme of community to resonate.
Ultimately, Mirzeinali expresses the message of Nazri in all aspects of the production, and does so with great success. He has shown that despite our collective differences, there are ways we can – and should – come together. In the current climate of uncertainty, hate, and division (where even the term ‘diversity’ looks set to become unfashionable), it is reassuring to see this message of unity.
Perhaps we ought to just step back and look at the world through someone else’s eyes.
This article was first published in State of the Art.
READ MORE: Review: Bandini at La Mama HQ
