It’s been about a year and a half since the Octopus Band started performing in Metro Al Madina, here are some questions I was asked for the upcoming shows, and some lovely photographs by Davina-Maria Khoury.
M: It began as a trio. Then, slowly, I started adding musicians—one at a time—until it got out of hand… or tentacle. For this concert, we’ll be ten musicians on stage. The name stayed, even as the number kept growing.
M: At first it was a joke—friends saw the poster for our first show and said, “You have an octopus now.” I liked it. Then I started learning more about the octopus and found it to be a perfect symbol of intelligence, creativity, vulnerability, and improvisation.
M: I see my role as a coordinator first, then as a bass player. I write the music and outline the path each piece should take, then I step back and let human instinct do its work. There’s no hierarchy—we take turns leading, depending on what the night asks of us. It’s more like a flock of geese than an orchestra.
| M: It’s essential. This project is built on love and respect. I look for a good human being before a good musician—and I’m lucky to find so many who are both. That trust is what allows the music to breathe. |
M: Grief, tenderness, ferocity, spirituality—we all move through these states. When I feel sad, I write sad. When I feel fierce, I ask the drummers to sound the war drums and the horns to charge like elephants. Some nights it works better than others—and that’s part of the truth of it.
M: Each time it’s a different experience, with a different line-up, and different songs. It starts with fear of uncertainty. Then curiosity. Then a befriending of what once felt dangerous—and turns out to be an ally. Everything worth looking for, I believe, lives in the deepest caves of that night!
