Latest news with #MohsenSharifian
Sydney Morning Herald
a day ago
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
Iranian superstar unleashes joyful frenzy
I had a little glimpse of what it would be like to be a god. From my box in Chatswood's Concert Hall, high above the front edge of the stage, I gazed down on a seething mass of humanity in what was effectively a mosh-pit, only with seating getting the way. The excitement of these people was as explosive as the music. Mohsen Sharifian's folkloric music comes from the southern Iranian coast on the Persian Gulf, and for the local Iranian community Sharifian has the star power of Elvis, Michael Jackson and Taylor Swift rolled into one. He has done what Goran Bregovic did for Balkan music: locate it within the universal dance beat of a thumping bass drum – here an electronic wallop triggered by Morteza Palizdan's foot – and take it to the world. From Harbour to Harbour 2 is the second incarnation of a project in which Sharifian's band, Lian, is joined by didgeridoo virtuoso William Barton and his mother, singer Aunty Delmae Barton. The concept, however, was better than the execution, as where I was sitting the bottom-end sound was sludgy, and the didgeridoo's nuances were largely lost. Barton and Aunty Delmae only topped and tailed a generous show that started 35 minutes late, while we, in a new low for concert presentation, watched ads on a big screen. The rest embodied the instant party that's a Lian performance, with people dancing from the moment the band launched into the raucous Eshkeleh, and only stopping when Sharifian addressed us. He's a virtuoso player of the ney-anban, an Iranian bagpipe with a sound that's shriller and even more transfixing than the Celtic version. His band also contains a second ney-anban player, his daughter Liana, whose main solo incorporated a dissonance that sliced through one like shards of glass, and whose instrument was adorned with a string of pom-poms, so when she twirled while playing, these gracefully arced around her. From the moment the band's formidable density – having three hand-drummers, an oud player and an electric bassist – fully kicked in, you understood why such a piercing instrument is demanded. Sharifian also sings, although the primary vocalist was the impressive Aka Safavi, who also had to scale this wall of sound, and did so more as a seasoned professional than as the natural charismatic that is Sharifian. The lyrics, meanwhile, sometimes drew on Omar Khayyam's poetry. More than anything this concert was the sound of joy: a joy that engulfed a room more used to hosting polite applause with rumps firmly glued to seats. Intermittently the mood could change to the pensive beauty of Reza Kashi's oud, but that pounding ersatz bass drum, intent on stoving in one's ribcage, was not to be denied, and soon enough we were back in a musical frenzy, with the ecstatic response it engendered. It was just a shame the sound was so muddy.
The Age
a day ago
- Entertainment
- The Age
Iranian superstar unleashes joyful frenzy
I had a little glimpse of what it would be like to be a god. From my box in Chatswood's Concert Hall, high above the front edge of the stage, I gazed down on a seething mass of humanity in what was effectively a mosh-pit, only with seating getting the way. The excitement of these people was as explosive as the music. Mohsen Sharifian's folkloric music comes from the southern Iranian coast on the Persian Gulf, and for the local Iranian community Sharifian has the star power of Elvis, Michael Jackson and Taylor Swift rolled into one. He has done what Goran Bregovic did for Balkan music: locate it within the universal dance beat of a thumping bass drum – here an electronic wallop triggered by Morteza Palizdan's foot – and take it to the world. From Harbour to Harbour 2 is the second incarnation of a project in which Sharifian's band, Lian, is joined by didgeridoo virtuoso William Barton and his mother, singer Aunty Delmae Barton. The concept, however, was better than the execution, as where I was sitting the bottom-end sound was sludgy, and the didgeridoo's nuances were largely lost. Barton and Aunty Delmae only topped and tailed a generous show that started 35 minutes late, while we, in a new low for concert presentation, watched ads on a big screen. The rest embodied the instant party that's a Lian performance, with people dancing from the moment the band launched into the raucous Eshkeleh, and only stopping when Sharifian addressed us. He's a virtuoso player of the ney-anban, an Iranian bagpipe with a sound that's shriller and even more transfixing than the Celtic version. His band also contains a second ney-anban player, his daughter Liana, whose main solo incorporated a dissonance that sliced through one like shards of glass, and whose instrument was adorned with a string of pom-poms, so when she twirled while playing, these gracefully arced around her. From the moment the band's formidable density – having three hand-drummers, an oud player and an electric bassist – fully kicked in, you understood why such a piercing instrument is demanded. Sharifian also sings, although the primary vocalist was the impressive Aka Safavi, who also had to scale this wall of sound, and did so more as a seasoned professional than as the natural charismatic that is Sharifian. The lyrics, meanwhile, sometimes drew on Omar Khayyam's poetry. More than anything this concert was the sound of joy: a joy that engulfed a room more used to hosting polite applause with rumps firmly glued to seats. Intermittently the mood could change to the pensive beauty of Reza Kashi's oud, but that pounding ersatz bass drum, intent on stoving in one's ribcage, was not to be denied, and soon enough we were back in a musical frenzy, with the ecstatic response it engendered. It was just a shame the sound was so muddy.
SBS Australia
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- SBS Australia
'A special language': This Iranian musician is in Australia to connect Indigenous traditions
From left: Mohsen Sharifian, William Barton, Aunty Delmae Barton and Liana Sharifian will be performing in Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide and Perth. Credit: Brendan Read / Keith Saunders / Unsplash / Jamie Davies / SBS Concerts in major Australian cities will showcase traditional Iranian and Indigenous instruments. Iranian bagpipe musician Mohsen Sharifian performs with the aim of 'keeping Bushehri and Iranian folk music alive'. Indigenous didgeridoo artist William Barton says the two countries face similar challenges in preserving culture. Mohsen Sharifian, a musician and composer from the port of Bushehr in Iran, will be performing in Australia alongside Indigenous artists William Barton and his mum, Aunty Delmae Barton, in a tour called Harbour to Harbour. Sharifian's folkloric ensemble, Lian Band, and the First Nations artists will come together to blend the ney-anban (Persian bagpipe) and didgeridoo, traditional Iranian and Indigenous instruments. While their music may sound different, there is a common purpose among the artists from Iran and Australia. "This is a special language that can bring us together, make us talk and connect our cultures to each other. When cultures and music connect, other things get closer," Sharifian told SBS Persian. "This is happening so we can talk more with each other, discuss our concerns, and pour our hearts out. "All of our passion is for the music of our motherland. A type of music with a rich historical background that is also the storyteller of many parts of our society and the Australian Indigenous community." Sharifian's home is the city of Bushehr, in the south of Iran, located beside the Persian Gulf. As one of the country's most important commercial ports, the city's population has been shaped by people from diverse cultures and countries over the past hundred years. According to Sharifian, this had a significant impact on Bushehr's music. "Music grows from culture, and wherever it is based on their culture and geography, they have their own type of music," he explained. "Bushehr had different connections with people from different countries, and its music now has a poly-national shape ... All of these have given Bushehr's music a special and unique shape." Sharifian started his musical activity with Lian Band in 1993, with the aim of "keeping Bushehri and Iranian folk music alive". However, Iranian musicians must go the extra mile to save their music. While music and concerts are generally permitted in the Islamic Republic of Iran, music production and distribution face strict regulations, as women are not allowed to sing and musicians need permits from the Ministry of Guidance and Culture. "There are many issues in front of Iranian music, and no one can deny it, (including) strictness in giving permits to concerts," Sharifian said. "There are some people in Iran who have their own concerns, and don't vibe with music and have their own stance. We respect them, but this will not make us forget our duty. "Since ethnic music needs more support, a lack of that frustrates many musicians as they need more attention." Thousands of kilometres away, here in the other harbour in Australia, while music might not face similar restrictions, Batron said that he and Sharifian both face "the strong parallel paths of keeping their culture alive". "It's the same thing where we have to sustain and nurture our culture through the performing arts," Barton told SBS Persian. "That's our ceremony, and so that's what we are, that's what's in our DNA." Ceremonies are an important part of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures. There are ceremonies for every significant event, including coming of age, marriage, birth and death. Music is one part of these ceremonies, Barton explained. "Music is integral. It's very integral. It's integral to the day that you're born into this world as an Indigenous person ... It helps keep storytelling alive," he said. "Whatever it takes to help sustain that connection to Country, we do that through music." Barton, a descendant of the Kalkadunga tribe, was born in Mount Isa, Queensland. The renowned composer grew up in a musical and diverse family and learned to play the didgeridoo when he was seven years old. The didgeridoo, also known as yidaki, is an instrument made by Aboriginal people at least 1,000 years ago. "Over time, [the didgeridoo or yidaki], intermarriages between different tribes, and it spreads ... and it has its own language to each landscape, and that's important to understand," Barton said. He will be playing this instrument alongside the Sharifian's ney-anban, a wind instrument which is commonly found around Bushehr. According to Barton, the two instruments are played with a similar technique. "That's pretty amazing, because he (Sharifian) uses the circular breathing [technique] as well," he said. "My crossover technique on the didgeridoo or yidaki, as it's known, as well, is the circular breathing ... In and out through the nose, but we store the oxygen in our diaphragm, kind of like the bagpipe." But besides the meeting of two instruments, the artists share a mutual purpose in bringing their cultures together side by side, something beyond the sounds. Sharifian said: "We are distanced a lot from each other, and this distance is increasing day by day." "Let's get together and get away from all the sorrow and chaos that is in this world, and listen to music from far away. "Let's not lose each other in this world." Share this with family and friends Independent news and stories connecting you to life in Australia and Persian-speaking Australians. Understand the quirky parts of Aussie life.
