Amaki

The almond tree in Amaki’s compound house was dotted with tiny yellow oval-shaped fruits that willed their way to the ground at the slightest urge of a passing breeze. At dusk, the sky above would fill with hundreds of straw-colored fruit bats making their way across the city, seemingly guided by the warble of the call to prayer from a distant mosque. Growing up, this compound was the fertile ground for my imagination. It was modestly sized but pliable, folding itself into the universes of a child’s mind and the heart of a family’s world. This piece is a sonic exploration of personal history, and an homage to the matriarchal figures of my life who, through love and sacrifice, built structures of safety that made unbridled play possible for generations after them. I embrace an intuitive process of improvisation, turning an experiment with analog hardware and virtual instruments into a practice of performance as listening, straining to once again hear Amaki’s voice.