Composer John Psathas talks about the careful thought and cross-cultural collaboration that went into a work to be performed by the NZSO marking the fifth anniversary of the Christchurch mosque attacks.
I don’t know where I was when I heard. I can remember the earthquakes and 9/11, and even Chernobyl, but I don’t know where I was when the news came through about the terrorist attack on Al Noor Mosque.
I remember the next day, though. We stopped to buy flowers and, looking around, we realised that everybody else had flowers, too. All of us drawn in silent, spontaneous community towards the nearby mosque, where strangers were receiving hugs and giving hugs and sharing tears. Laid carefully against a wall, all those flowers and candles, and maybe teddy bears, too. But I can’t remember the day of the murders and it bothers me: the victims deserve better.
New Zealand composer John Psathas (pictured top left) remembers. He was in his studio, teaching a PhD student, when his wife phoned and asked if he’d heard. “I stopped the lesson and went inside,” he recalls. “It’s one of those cornerstones in your life. You remember those moments.” Yeah. Maybe.
Five years on, Psathas offers not flowers or hugs but a new work, Ahlan wa Sahlan, which he has co-composed with the Moroccan singer Oum (pictured top second left) and Greek oud player Kyriakos Tapakis (picture top right). The piece closes the NZSO’s opening concerts of the year, marking half a decade since the Christchurch attack. Psathas admits it was difficult to write and there were many ways of getting it wrong. Not least, he had to decide what it was for: commemoration of the event? A tribute to the victims? Comfort for the families? And why use a symphony orchestra to express these things, given that the NZSO has little history of outreach with Aotearoa’s Muslim communities?
“More than anything, myself and members of the NZSO management decided we must not blindly create something we thought was a terrific idea without any kind of dialogue,” he says. “The risk of being seen to do this the wrong way was high, but I got involved because I trusted the intention [within the NZSO].”
Ahlan wa Sahlan began, therefore, not with music but with meetings.
“We started in Christchurch. I went to Al Noor Mosque and spoke to survivors. We went to the cemetery, the first and, hopefully, only time I see almost 50 graves all from the same day. Then we entered into discussions with people from the community there. We went to Auckland and met a representative of the Federation of the Islamic Associations of New Zealand. More recently, the entire orchestra went to the mosque in Wellington and was welcomed.”
Some of the feedback Psathas received was challenging. “The role of music in Islam is not the same as it is in our culture.”
“Ultimately, where we got to was, ‘This isn’t something we would do, but if you want to do it, go ahead.’ We got to the point where it felt right to create an expression of solidarity, of compassion, of sympathy and empathy, and of welcome.”
Hence the work’s title, Ahlan wa Sahlan. According to Psathas, it means several things, but in this music, it represents the idea that you are in the right place; you are welcome.
It’s an echo of the slogans we clung to at the time. They are us. This is not us. In writing Ahlan wa Sahlan, Psathas hopes to recapture some of that sense of community that has dissipated over time.
“My approach [while composing] was to imagine three rooms full of people, in Christchurch, Wellington and Auckland, who will come together. I felt my responsibility was to make the most of those people being together and hopefully generate a sense of togetherness, which music at its best can do.”
Father Ray Schmack has been attending the NZSO for more than 60 years and will be at the Beyond Words concert in Christchurch. He remembers where he was the day of the shootings. He was almost hit by one of the police cars screaming towards the scene. “I was buying furniture for my new place, and driving back when I heard all these sirens; I nearly got mowed down. I got home, and one of the residents said, ‘There’s been a shooting.’”
Schmack is used to the idea of shared grief. As a Catholic priest, he has seen plenty of it, and even now, whenever he passes Al Noor Mosque on his walk, he will remove his hat and stand in prayer for a few minutes. Like Psathas, he recognises the sense of togetherness music can engender, and says it will be special to be with other Christchurch people for the event.
“A concert night is special; you inevitably engage with the person alongside you,” he says. “And music can aid reflection and contemplation.
“For a time, the peripheral things aren’t very important.”
NZSO, Beyond Words. Christchurch Town Hall, March 7; Michael Fowler Centre (as part of the Aotearoa NZ Festival of the Arts), March 9; Auckland Town Hall (as part of the Auckland Arts Festival), March 10. Fawzi Haimor (pictured top third left) conducts.
