DESPITE being centuries old, qawwali music remains massively popular with live audiences around the world.
One of its top British exponents, Chand Ali Khan Qawwal and Party, is set to embark on another UK tour in February.
The Midlands-based group has already sold out some shows, and their Dillagi tour promises a blend of authentic original compositions and contemporary interpretations, including Bollywood-inspired songs.
Lead singer Chand Ali Khan is looking forward to reconnecting with audiences on the action-packed tour and discussed his love of live performances.
How much does performing live mean to you?
Some fans recently described to me the unspoken connection they feel during our live shows. How it gives them this warmth and makes them feel peaceful. To be honest, I echo these sentiments. Live performances are the heartbeat of this rhythmic tapestry of qawwali. It’s not just about singing; it’s about weaving an emotional journey with the audience. The shared energy and unspoken connection create a spiritual conversation through melodies.
What can audiences expect from your UK tour?
This year, we are bringing a revitalised flavour of sufiana kalaam to both famous and rare qawwalis, along with Bollywood tracks rooted in qawwali music theory, resonating with our contemporary touch – all under the banner of Dillagi. Brace yourselves for an auditory odyssey and some delightful surprises. You’ll have to join us if you want to know more.
How do you feel about your growth as a live performer?
The artistic process is an evolution, really. With every concert, I try to delve deeper into the nuances of expression. The stage is our canvas and our interpretations of qawwali are there to paint emotions. Over time, with the grace of Allah, my palette has grown richer.
Why do you think live qawwali music is enjoying such a resurgence?
There has definitely been a change in recent years. While anyone can access music editing software, not everyone can be a true artist, particularly a live singer. People are starting to realise the value of creating live music. They are getting fed up of lip sync performers and karaoke effects. In our digital age, we now crave authenticity and having a good time; in this realm, qawwali stands as a beacon.
Tell us more about that.
People recognise the rawness and emotion of qawwali when performed live. It offers a poignant escape and fosters empathy in the midst of the mundane. People yearn for connection and qawwali offers an intimate and communal experience unlike any other genre.
Which qawwalis do you enjoy performing the most?
It has to be my all-time favourite, Yeh Jo Halka Halka Suroor Hai. Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan saab crafted so many melodies and variations in this track that are entrancing and the poetry resonates deep within the soul. Personally, I love the build-up of the raag, which just captivates you.
Do you ever get nervous before going on stage?
I think it used to affect me more when I was younger. All artists get a little jittery on stage. But now, nervousness has become part of the prelude – it gives me that mix of excitement, reverence and opportunity to deliver qawwali perfectly on stage. Nowadays, it’s a positive driving force, and a reminder of the responsibility to create an atmosphere that transcends one’s connection with god and touches the sublime.
In your opinion, what is the secret of a great performance?
I approach each performance as if it were my last concert. That way, I give it my all and hope the audience gets to experience the immersive magic of qawwali. I don’t like to complicate or spoil the recipe. When you surrender to the music, it enters your heart and reflects in your expression.
What are your future plans?
We are currently working on original compositions, which will hopefully be released soon. Exciting discussions are underway for venturing into the western arena and also collaborating with prominent names in the original qawwali sphere. Ultimately, the goal is to preserve the richness of our musical heritage.
Today, what inspires you as a singer?
The biggest inspiration towards this line of work is the music and impact of the late great shahenshah-e-qawwali, Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan saab. Despite the turmoil and challenges in the world, my aim is that the message of my work helps unite our community with commonality and instills love, peace, and kindness that mankind deeply holds. Although it's difficult with so much conflict and disagreements in the world, there are many good stories of journeys, struggles and triumphs. I hope our music transforms into a catalyst for spreading this message.
Why should we come to the concerts?
The London concerts have already sold out a month before the tour starts. But there’s still time for the UK to join us in Glasgow, Birmingham and Manchester. I cannot wait to see you all there.
Tickets are available to book at www. qawwaliworld.com. Instagram: @chandalikhanqawwal
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A seated Jain enlightened teacherAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Ganesha from JavaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
A Chinese silk painting depicting the BuddhaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
ArdhanarishvaraAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Head of a grimacing yakshaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
NagaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
The Bimaran casketAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Hunia Chawla
A still from rehearsal
The cast of Marriage Material in key moments from the play, including Avita Jay, Kiran Landa, Omar Malik, Irfan Shamji and Anoushka Deshmukh
Sathnam Sanghera’s 'Marriage Material' adapted into bold new play on conformity
The play Marriage Material at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre is Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s adaptation of Sathnam Sanghera’s novel of the same name, which first came out in 2013.
She is lucky to have Iqbal Khan direct Marriage Material. The play, a co-production with the Birmingham Rep, is set in the late 1960s. Mr and Mrs Bains (played by Jaz Singh Deol and Avita Jay) run a corner shop in Wolverhampton. Their younger daughter, Surinder (Anoushka Deshmukh), is 16, her sister Kamaljit (Kiran Landa) is just a bit older.
They have a neighbour, Patwant Dhanda (Irfan Shamji), who, as we shall soon see, is not a very pleasant man. In fact, he comes across just as racist as Enoch Powell, who represented Wolverhampton South West for the Tories from 1950 to 1974.
It will be recalled this was a time when Sikhs working on the buses were told they couldn’t wear a turban. That was a hard-fought battle that had to be won.
The Bains, meanwhile, simply want to get their girls married off.
Nothing new here, I thought.
What makes the tale different is that the plot twists and turns down the generations. Mr Dhanda, who has the makings of a paedophile, makes a pitch for one of the girls when Mr Bains dies early in the play. “A life with no man in the house is no life,” he informs the newly widowed Mrs Bains.
Mr Dhanda has a wife but she has returned to India so he considers himself to be a free man.
Surinder’s English teacher from school, Miss Flanagan (Celeste Dodwell), who is also head of the fifth form, tells Mrs Bains about her daughter: “I don’t want to embarrass you, but she is bright. Ridiculously bright.”
She adds: “Mrs Bains, I think it would be a pity if Surinder didn’t stay on at school.” The initial response from Mrs Bains is not encouraging: “Too much education makes people’s brains get mixed up, they don’t sleep at night…”
But she is finally persuaded that Surinder should be allowed to stay on for a while longer before being married off.
Mr Bains was very old school. When Surinder confides she would one day like to be “a somebody”, he is amused that “my daughter wants to be a somebody”.
“Like you,” she tells her father.
Mr Bains consoles his daughter: “We will find a somebody for you to marry.”
At the point of a possible marriage, however, Surinder is sweet-talked by chocolate salesman Jim Wilson (Tommy Belshaw) into running away with him. They share a love of literature, and he calls her “Sue Bains”. But the relationship does not end well.
Once she has left, Surinder is written off as “dead” by her family. The story that is circulated is that she was only 16 when she was killed in a car crash. That’s better than to let on that she ran off with a white man.
By the time she is reconciled with her sister towards the end of the play, a great deal has changed. Kamaljit married Tanvir Banga (Omar Malik), a young man who helped out in the Bains’ corner shop. When the two sisters meet again, Tanvir has also died. But he and Kamaljit had a son, Arjan Banga (Jaz Singh Deol doubles up for this role after the death of Mr Bains). He has come home after his father’s death to help his mother who is still running the family corner shop.
Meanwhile, Mr Dhanda’s business has prospered. He now has a son, Ranjit Dhanda (the role is taken by Omar Malik after Tanvir’s death), and he is nearly as unpleasant as his father.
Arjan has an English fiancée, Claire (Celeste Dodwell). In London, Arjan worked as a creative director. But after deciding to stay in Wolverhampton to help his mother, he decides he cannot marry Claire because she is white. In other words, Asians are not free of racism, either. Happily, at the end, the couple are reconciled.
As for Surinder, she parted company with Jim Wilson after realising he was all talk, depended on her for money and had failed to earn a penny from his literary pretensions. She had prospered, though, as a hotel owner and had been transformed in time into a well-groomed businesswoman. After being tracked down by Arjan, she decides to return to her roots in Wolverhampton and help Kamaljit run the family corner shop. Perhaps 50 years had passed during the passage of the play.
Being subjected to racism turned some Asians into racists themselves. The word goreh (white person) is repeatedly spat out with venom. Maybe it is worth remembering the play’s audience isn’t exclusively Asian – white folk are watching as well. And maybe some of the toilet humour ridiculing white people, which always makes me cringe, could be cut out.
In Sanghera’s novel, there is a quote from Enoch Powell’s speech in November 1968: “The West Indian or Asian does not, by being born in England, become an Englishman. In law he becomes a United Kingdom citizen by birth; in fact, he is a west Indian or an Asian still... he will by the very nature of things have lost one country without gaining another, lost one nationality without acquiring a new one. Time is running out against us and them. With the lapse of a generation or so we shall at last have succeeded – to the benefit of nobody – in reproducing ‘in England’s green and pleasant land’ the haunting tragedy of the US.”
In Marriage Material, where the acting is marvellous (apart from Mr Dhanda’s Indian mannerisms and accent being overdone) we do travel across a couple of generations.
There is a scene when Tanvir rejects Mr Dhanda’s vision of creating a little Punjab in Wolverhampton.
Mr Dhanda wants to take over the Bains’ corner shop and is putting pressure on Tanvir to sign the papers. He says: “In this country, money is the path to freedom.”
“Sign, please,” he instructs Tanvir. “We must make sure our children learn to behave nicely, according to our rules.”
He insists: “We maintain our identity so we can be ourselves.”
Tanvir disagrees: “We can be us here. With the goreh.”
Dhanda warns him: “Then we will be inviting chaos.”
Tanvir’s comment is telling: “You sound like Enoch.”
Kamaljit, who is expecting a baby with her husband Tanvir, says: “I would like my child to grow up knowing the history of the Gurus and to read the Granth Sahib. And to love their culture.”
Tanvir tells his wife: “I would like my child to go to the finest schools, to cheer for England in the World Cup and eat Yorkshire pudding on a Sunday.”
Kamaljit sets out a dream that has perhaps come to pass with many third and fourth generation British Asians: “Maybe our child can do both.” Much, much later, in a throwback to the past, we learn of Surinder’s O-level results: “Biology A, Chemistry A, English Language A, English Literature A, French A, History B, Latin A, Mathematics A, Physics A…”
Kamaljit tells her younger sister: “Never mind about the B.”
And that is quintessentially Asian. Their acting is outstanding.
Marriage Material is at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until June 21, and at the Birmingham Rep from June 25-July 5