Live review: Hamza Namira at Albert Hall

Written by:

★★★★★

Whilst many Middle-Eastern artists – Arab, Iranian and Turkish – play London, they rarely come up to Manchester. Indeed, this was the first time acclaimed Egyptian artist Hamza Namira had ever played Manchester, which was especially exciting for Manchester’s prominent Arab community, which goes back to the 1700s.

Albert Hall – a rare architectural gem that masterfully blends Gothic and Baroque styles with vibrant terracotta cladding and historic, ecclesiastical features – was the perfect venue for this concert which blended the classical with the contemporary. Whilst it is now a music and events venue, Albert Hall was once a chapel, as is evidenced by its beautiful stained glass windows and its imposing Grand Organ, affectionately dubbed “The Voice of Jupiter” (the second-largest pipe organ in the UK). This contrast, in which an old building has been rejuvenated rather than left to fall into ruin, works wonderfully for a genre-defying artist like Namira, who blends traditional Egyptian folk with contemporary Arabic pop and alternative indie, thus bringing Egyptian folk music into the modern era and keeping it alive.

Himself a multi-instrumentalist, Namira was accompanied by a musical ensemble, playing both Western and Eastern instruments. There were even both Western and Middle-Eastern drums. It’s some of the best live music I’ve ever heard, with the players working in unison to create a wall of sound.

Every single song felt anthemic – and indeed, many of them are lyrically anthemic, as Namira’s work is mostly marked by a recurring sociopolitical theme, focusing on topics of general humanist interest, like hope, alienation, generational change, and oppression, alongside an interest in reviving cultural heritage. He was dubbed the “Voice of the Revolution”, his works rising to prominence during the 25 January revolution, in which he personally participated and was considered a figure thereof. This led him to exile, before he was able to return to Egypt a few years ago. This context made the gig – for me, who is not Egyptian – feel especially important, as the audience was presumably made up of Egyptian immigrants, perhaps some of them refugees, who had chosen to leave Egypt (or other Arab countries) for one reason or another.

Namira sings with a warm, smooth, heartfelt quality that is soul-stirring and emotionally resonant, even if you do not speak Arabic and thus have no idea what he is saying. Without the aforementioned context, you might not even be able feel what he is saying, but you will still feel.