A Return to Palestine, Via Paris
Mariam Tamari ’93 on reclaiming her identity as a musician and a Palestinian.
Soprano Mariam Tamari ’93 was born to a Palestinian father and a Japanese mother and raised in Tokyo. After making her debut as a singer in Japan, Tamari moved to Paris, where she continues to live. She has performed as a soloist with orchestras in Europe, Asia, the Middle East, Africa, South America, and the U.S.
Family portrait: My parents met while studying in the U.S. They married in Beirut, but because of political unrest went to Japan, hoping one day to return to the Middle East. I come from an artistic family—my father is a painter, my mother is a costume designer, and my sister became an architect. One of my aunts is a soprano, another is an artist, and my grandmother was a calligrapher. I was singing and composing when I was 2, before I could read! I started voice lessons at the age of 12 and began to sing professionally at 16. At ÷ÈÓ°Ö±²¥, I quickly realized that my heart was in music. I majored at Haverford and studied performance there as well.
Debut: After graduation, I went back to Japan and took part in a major international competition. The head of the jury—the director of one of the biggest opera companies in Japan—invited me to sing, and that’s how I made my debut. I traveled around Japan with some of the best musicians in the world, but I was too young to sustain that kind of professional career and exposure without having put in the years necessary to have a solid technical base. I took a hiatus as a soloist and worked as an academic translator at the University of Tokyo while continuing to sing. Twelve years ago, I moved to Paris and felt I could sustain a rigorous career again without damaging my voice.
Stronger ties: Once I was in Paris, my connection with Palestine grew stronger because I was able to see my family there more frequently. As a child in Japan, I was never really allowed to live fully in my identity as a Palestinian since the prevailing narrative was that Palestine did not exist, or that we were terrorists. We were very politically active and connected with our Palestinian family and community, though, so in effect I was living a double life.
Coming to Europe made me realize the gap between my identity and the world in which I had placed myself. Classical music—as beautiful and profound as it is—is a European tradition and has been used as a tool of oppression to further white supremacy and elitism. Performing as the soloist at the debut of the Palestine National Orchestra, our first national orchestra, made a meaningful link between my Palestinian roots and my career as a musician. Being able to work with fellow Palestinian musicians confirmed my desire to create a different kind of classical music that is more international, more inclusive.
Music and more: Since we were unable to tour during the pandemic, I composed songs to texts by Palestinian poets and authors. I’m not an expert on traditional Arabic or classical Palestinian music—I was trained in the bel canto technique—so the style is more contemporary.
My performances, online during the pandemic, are platforms to discuss history, politics, identity, and how the music and text are relevant to our world today. I like to speak to the audience, read poems, and include discussions, so it’s never purely musical. I appreciate that ÷ÈÓ°Ö±²¥ encouraged the idea that we are agents of sociopolitical change. ÷ÈÓ°Ö±²¥ gave me a community of like-minded women with whom I can work and to whom I can turn for support. That has been incredibly precious to me.
Learn more about Mariam Tamari at mariamtamari.com.
Know someone we should profile? Email us at alumnaebulletin@brynmawr.edu
Published on: 07/19/2022