5 Questions with Maryam Rahmani
A trained performer of Iranian traditional music, Maryam Rahmani began flamenco dance classes soon after arriving in Adelaide—an experience that transformed her approach to rhythm, flow, and artistic freedom.
Her debut album also reflects Maryam’s growing collaborative practice in Australia. Drawing from past work with ensembles including Adelaide Symphony Orchestra, Adelaide Baroque and Australian Art Orchestra, as well as her participation in international residencies such as Banff Centre’s Soundweaving, KAMAND marks a personal and creative turning point for this artist.
No.1
You’re a trained performer of Persian traditional music, in particular the orchestral instruments, the santur and kamancheh. What first drew you to these?
The santur came into my life by complete coincidence. One day my uncle, Amou Hosein, came home from work with one that someone had given him. He asked my cousin and I if we wanted to take some lessons, and that’s how I started going to santur classes every week.
My dad also had a big influence on me. Ever since I was really little, he would listen to traditional music and read me poems. I think that’s what planted this love in me and kept it growing all these years.
My real passion for music started later, when I went to university to study physics. That’s when I realised this wasn’t what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. So right after that, I applied to study music. There, I also had the chance to learn the kamancheh. I’ve always adored its sound—the beauty of those drawn-out tones that hold you in the moment and carry you away.
No.2
The single ‘Encanto’ on the album came from an unplanned session with your flamenco teacher Rosalie Cocchiaro. You’ve said that you started learning the dance a year after you moved to Adelaide from Iran. How do you think the dance form speaks to the music that you make?
I think the way flamenco dancers understand rhythm is really special.
Of course, they know how to count the rhythms, but what surprised me in class was that if I asked someone next to me how to count what we were dancing, sometimes it was actually harder for them to count it than just to dance it. Flamenco dancers tend to remember the whole rhythmic section so naturally—they don’t necessarily need to count in order to dance. That was so surprising to me.
The only way I had always learned was by following instructions: go from A to B, save the joy for later, and wait for that day when you finally become a master. Maybe it’s a bit of an academic approach—or stemming the perfectionist side of my character. But one of the lessons I’ve learned as I’ve grown older and gained more experience is to let myself just jump in, surround myself with it, and enjoy it. I faced that again while learning flamenco: after trying so hard to count everything properly, I saw others simply dancing it—and it worked way better!
Also, I’ve always adored rhythm as a bridge into any kind of music. I found a beautiful common ground between flamenco and Persian poetry, especially in the way prosodic meter works. So I really wanted to try to see how it sounds with the music I play, and my teacher Rosalie was so brave to try, doing it so powerfully.
No.3
Each track in KAMAND is grounded in the Persian classical repertoire and inspired by poetry, in particular Persian mystic poets from centuries past: Hafez, Saadi Shirazi and Omar Khayyam. Can you speak more to this? How does the work from these poets continue to inspire you today?
I’ve always had a deep admiration for poetry, and it was my very first inspiration to listen to traditional music—and to want to learn it. I remember that whenever I tried to analyse a song, to study its form or mode, I would always end up lost in the poem. It felt as though all the music existed just to help me feel what the poem was trying to say.
What I adore most is this power of music—that you can place it on any words, any image, even a film, and it works like magic. It transforms everything. For me, music truly is that magic: a way to immerse myself in the world of poetry and to connect deeply with my emotions.
No.4
As an adult migrant, how do you think migration has affected or changed your creative process or production?
Immigration was a huge turning point in my life, and it touched every part of me—especially my music. When I first arrived, playing music became like a magic rope. Whenever I felt homesick, it would pull me back to my homeland and my memories, making them feel close again, as if they weren’t far away.
At that time, I wasn’t really playing to practice; I was playing simply because I was sad, lonely or homesick. Later, when I had the chance to play for others [in Australia], I realised I was sharing that same music. And the most beautiful part was hearing people say that when I played, they felt like they had gone on a journey with me.
Music also opened doors for me to connect with people. Through collaborations, I not only learned so much musically, but I also met others who share the same passion, and sometimes even the same experience of immigration.
I often say that music is my mirror. In the beginning, it reflected all the intensity of my emotions—the sadness, the longing—but over time, it has shifted and become more flexible, helping me find a sense of belonging.
No.5
KAMAND is supported by an ensemble of other musicians. Besides Cocchiaro who worked on flamenco rhythm, we also have David Moran on cello, Sebastian Collen on piano and electronics, and Gustavo Quintino on double bass. How did you land upon these collaborators in particular and what makes an ideal musical collaborator, in your view?
Since I moved to Australia, I’ve loved playing with new musicians and discovering their world—and in this case, everything started almost by coincidence.
I first met David at a performance we were both part of. I couldn’t even watch his whole act because I was in the back tuning my santur, as usual! But later, we got in touch and began playing together. He always picks up the music so quickly and adds so much when he plays it back. We never use a score, and his approach to improvisation is really special.
I also met Seb through friends, and later he invited me to join him at the Piano Lab. That was such an amazing experience, because he has this gift for transforming music with his ideas, and particularly with the special drone sounds he creates on the piano. This is not to mention his composing magic.
Then there’s Gustavo, a really talented bass player who also plays with the [Adelaide] Symphony Orchestra. He immigrated not long ago too, and watching how quickly he has flourished and immersed himself here has been such a joy. It was truly an honour to have him on the album.
And, from the very first day I started dancing, I’ve always loved blending flamenco rhythms with traditional music. That’s why it was so special to have my flamenco teacher, Rosalie, join us on the album, as we explored something we had never tried before.
Find Out More
KAMAND is an exploration of acculturation, the delicate and often dissonant process of merging into a host culture while honouring ancestral roots.
Across the album, Maryam navigates improvisation and identity through santur, voice and kamancheh, supported by an ensemble of boundary-pushing collaborators: Rosalie Cocchiaro (flamenco rhythm), David Moran (cello), Sebastian Collen (piano, electronics) and Gustavo Quintino (double bass).
Each track is grounded in the Persian classical repertoire or inspired by poetry, particularly the words of 13th and 14th century mystics, Saadi Shirazi and Hafez. Yet the album resists tradition-as-orthodoxy, instead reimagining ancient forms through experimental structures, spontaneous composition and cross-cultural conversation.
Listen and purchase KAMAND here.