Rising Afghan composer, Arson Fahim, and British conductor, Cayenna Ponchione-Bailey, presented a wonderful orchestral program in solidarity with Afghan Musicians on Saturday night in Jordan Hall. Afghanistan is currently governed by repressive militant Islamic fundamentalists and Pashtun warlords who have effectively banned making music. Their flagrant violations of human rights and continued persecution of musicians has been widely reported in the media.
I am admittedly predisposed to be in awe of Arson’s journey, having known him since he was 12. We met more than a decade ago during a year I spent teaching at the Afghanistan National Institute of Music in Kabul. A handful of the musicians in the ensemble received their formative education at that incredible little school, which sadly no longer exists. They are now spread out across the country in a miraculous diaspora; Arson brought them together to share an evening in the service of a much larger message about the power of music.
For a brief moment, while observing the ensemble preparing to begin a rehearsal the night before the concert, I was viscerally reminded of an experience I had in Kabul Bank in 2013. Like a Wall Street trading floor, the space was filled with a frenetic, buzzing energy– there was a continuous din of chatter in many languages, doors swinging from hurried comings and goings, papers snatched out of the air, fiercely inspected, then passed through different sets of hands until reaching their appropriate destination, phones ringing, babies crying, feral toddlers roaming about, playful confusion, benign havoc, the giving and receiving of directions that were at once both unassured and boldly determined, a sense of uncertainty about what would come next, serenity in the realization that it was simply happening all around you, all the time.
The concert, however, told a much different story. Although the western orchestra and guests on eastern instruments had only a few rehearsals, they performed with joy, dynamism, and at a level of musicianship commensurate with the conservatory stage. It is extraordinarily difficult to create new music that convincingly and authentically fuses the aesthetic sensibilities of any traditional form with that of a western orchestra, but this program did not attempt to do that in the way I had anticipated. This was the third chapter of the concert series and it felt like an evolution—much of what I heard was cinematic in character, more influenced by popular music from Afghanistan and Iran than the region’s profoundly beautiful and deeply rooted classical and folk traditions.
Seare Ahmad Farhat’s chishm panha, koh panha (“hidden from eye, hidden by mountain”) showed clear sophistication in terms of modern compositional technique and the use of processed sound to explore the poetry of long-distance relationships and the changing nature of human interconnectivity caused by cellphones and the internet. Conductor James Ross and the ensemble created a beautifully textured sonic landscape that fell away somewhat abruptly at its conclusion, suggesting that it may be part of a longer work in progress. Next came a medley composed by Mohammad Qambar Nawshad, a talented ANIM alumni currently seeking asylum in Germany. The piece titled Janat e Moshkibara Watan (“Fragrant Paradise of My Homeland”) used the songs of three legends of Afghan music: Awal Mir, Abdul Rahmin Sarban, and Ahmad Zahir. The piece had a patriotic flare reminiscent of Soviet anthems created to inspire national pride.
Dokhte Baharoun (“Daughter of Springtime”) was written by Iranian vocalist Mahya Hamedi and arranged for orchestra by Derek Weagle. Mahya spoke about the song’s inspiration being drawn from the tragedy of having to make music in secret. She sang passionately and the ensemble swelled around her voice during climaxes and moments of delicate repose. A similar conceptual basis was used in a new work presented later in the concert by NEC student, Yangfan Xu, who appeared integral to organizing the concert. Her piece was born from a collaboration with a musician in Kabul and explored self-expressed themes of forced anonymity and the destruction of culture. Yangfan also, according to the opening sentence of her bio in the program book, “holds a deep passion and a love for cats.”
Rubab-e Zinda (“Alive Rubab”), a concerto for the Rubab in four parts co-written by featured soloist Qais Essar, another remarkable example of youthful Afghan resilience residing in Boston, trumpeter Qudrat Wasefi, was the only work seriously to attempt synthesis of Afghan and European classical traditions, and did so in a way that maintained the integrity of the many special qualities and distinct characteristics that define each tradition. It would have been a good place to feature Hamid Habibzada, who is clearly a fantastic tabla player. I also felt that there should have been much more time for Qais and Hamid to improvise together against the orchestra playing a fundamental, which would have given the audience a full plate of the real thing, rather than just a quick taste.
Kakolaye Tu (“Your Curls”) by Afghan songstress and unreserved advocate for women’s rights, Elaha Soroor, used the imagery of hair to tell the story of a woman in exile. The orchestration by conductor Cayenne Ponchione-Bailey strongly attested to her depth of knowledge and the many years of dedication and commitment to orchestras as both a creator and a conductor. Trending composer, Milad Yousfi, won for best dressed. Milad’s extravagant outfits remind me of the bohemian fashion of Theolonious Monk after he was “discovered” by the commercial recording industry in the mid-1950s. He conducted his own Attan which he based on the celebratory Pashtun dance in seven. If I can be certain of anything, it’s that all of the Afghan musicians that were on stage: Qudrat, Mehran, Sunbul, Zarifa, Nazira, Qais, and Hamid know how to dance in seven.
At this point, Arson took the floor to raucous applause acknowledging the tremendous achievement of bringing the ensemble together. He spoke earnestly about how challenging it was to make happen. Arson asked us the question, in a moment of maturity well beyond his years, “What is the point of doing this?” It is a fair and poignant thing to ask and seriously consider in the context of any concert, let alone one framed around addressing a major, ongoing geopolitical and humanitarian disaster. His answer was profound, “Music can change people, and people can change the world.”

Such a beautifully written and thoughtful reflection. Your writing captures the spirit, emotion, and meaning of the evening in a powerful way. Thank you for sharing this and for continuing to support Afghan musicians.
Comment by Negin khpalwak — March 16, 2026 at 4:38 pm