The UK’s longest-running Arab arts festival returns
Updated 14 July 2025
Jasmine Bager
DHAHRAN: The Liverpool Arab Arts Festival, or LAAF, the UK’s longest-running annual celebration of Arab arts and culture, returns this month with a theme that feels both timely and timeless: “Nostalgia.”
Now two decades in, the festival has grown from grassroots beginnings into an internationally recognized celebration.
Running through to July 20, this year’s program explores how memory, heritage and longing shape artistic expression across the Arab world and its diasporas.
The dynamic, bilingual line-up spans film, music, literature, performance, food and family activities — all underscored by deeper reflections on identity, loss and cultural continuity.
Arab News spoke with Taher Qassim, originally from Yemen, who founded LAAF in 1998 as a community-led effort to foster cultural pride and preserve Arab identity in Liverpool.
“The theme of ‘nostalgia’ is a reflection of both how far we’ve come and where we began,” Qassim said. “Twenty-three years ago, we set out on a path that was uncertain but filled with excitement and purpose. We knew we wanted to create something that represented the Yemeni and Arab presence in Liverpool, but we didn’t yet know how to express it.”
What began as a handful of cultural activations has since evolved into a platform for Arab artists. “From those humble beginnings … the festival began to blossom,” he said. “Today, we proudly offer a platform to artists from across the Arab world, Europe, the US, and beyond — something we could only have dreamed of.”
Two events stand out for him: ‘Arabs Are Not Funny’ and ‘The Book of Sanaa.’ The former, he says, “directly challenges the long-held stereotype that Arabs lack a sense of humor. It’s refreshing, bold and liberating — exactly what the festival stands for.”
The latter brings together literature, poetry, food, and a model of Yemen’s historic capital.
“The richness of this event would’ve felt like a fantasy to us two decades ago. Now, it’s a reality — something we’ve made possible through years of dedication and community.”
Qassim, who was awarded an MBE (Member of the Order of the British Empire) in 2008 for services to community cohesion, handed over the festival’s leadership to his daughter, Afrah, who now steers LAAF with the same vision and care.
Today, LAAF is no longer seen solely as a festival for the Arab community. “That perception has shifted dramatically,” Qassim said. “People from all backgrounds and ages attend and engage. The festival has become a space for dialogue, curiosity and connection.” As he put it, “Conversations happen naturally — before, during and after events.”
One event he hopes visitors will not miss is the now-iconic “Family Day” at the Palm House in Sefton Park. “It’s become the signature event of the Liverpool Arab Arts Festival — our legacy day,” he said. “Families travel from across the UK, Europe, and even further afield to be part of it. The atmosphere is joyful, welcoming, and truly inclusive … a vibrant, heartwarming celebration of Arab culture at its best.”
Some events require tickets, but “Family Day” — an afternoon of music, crafts, performances and community — is the grand finale and free to all.
DUBAI: On a small street in Beirut, the sound of an oud drifts through the open doors of a small cafe called Orenda. Inside, all eyes turn to Joe Kamel as his melody takes over, replacing the cafe’s buzz with a slower, softer mood.
A pharmacist by day, Kamel has built a second life through his music — one that reconnects people with something familiar and deeply sentimental.
“My passion was born at a very young age,” Kamel told Arab News.
“I have memories from perhaps the age of five, when I used to sing in a choir. That’s where my journey and love of music and culture began.”
When everyone around him wanted to learn guitar, he picked up the oud instead.
“I wanted to learn something close to my Arabic heritage,” he said. “Both worlds are exceedingly different, but one hectic career is balanced by my musical one to restore calm and peace.”
A pharmacist by day, Kamel has built a second life through his music. (Supplied)
At the cafe, his regular crowd is a mix of Lebanese locals and Europeans who may not understand the words, but still feel every note.
“Arabic music can be dramatic and romantic, but each song and chord tells a story,” he said.
For Kamel, that storytelling is what keeps his performances personal. If the music connects with even one listener, he said, that is enough to make it worthwhile.
He sees live performance as an exchange of energy, not just sound. Reading the room, he often adjusts his set on the spot to match the crowd’s mood.
“It’s hugely important to gauge what the audience wants,” he said. “Deviating from what I planned is something I’ll do if it means everyone enjoys the experience.”
Music events across the Arab world mix local heritage and global influences. ( Dubai World Trade Centre photo)
Kamel believes that renewed interest in traditional instruments such as the oud reflects a wider cultural shift. Many young people, he said, are looking for something they can feel — a break from digital music and a return to the authenticity of live performance.
That revival of live, communal music is not limited to Lebanon. Across the Arab world, a new generation of musicians is finding fresh ways to mix heritage and innovation.
From Riyadh’s warehouse parties to Dubai’s creative hubs and Cairo’s open-air concerts, a new generation of musicians is blurring boundaries between tradition and innovation.
Egyptian composer Hisham Kharma, who has performed in cities from Hamburg to Miami and at historic sites such as the Pyramids of Giza, says that it is a natural evolution.
“Living in such diverse cities taught me that music is universal, but each culture adds its own flavor,” he told Arab News.
Kharma said that nothing compares to performing live, where music becomes a dialogue rather than a presentation.
“On stage, the music becomes a conversation — you feel every reaction instantly,” he said. “It’s that shared emotion, that real-time connection, that keeps me coming back.”
Hisham Kharma says artists across the region are "being more daring, blending genres, and and redefining what Arab music can be.” (Supplied)
For him, Arab identity in music is not about looking back — it is about carrying that sound forward.
“Our heritage gives us identity, but innovation keeps us alive and connected to the present,” he said.
“When I perform in places like the Pyramids, it’s about showing that our culture isn’t ancient history — it’s evolving.”
He describes the moment as one of bold creativity.
“Artists across the region are being more daring, blending genres, and redefining what Arab music can be,” he said.
“Our culture is incredibly deep, and now we’re expressing it in fresh, modern ways.”
In Saudi Arabia, that creativity has found new visibility — and new confidence.
Artists such as TamTam are leading a cultural shift that feels personal as much as national. Her songs move between Arabic and English with ease, a reflection of her own story.
“It’s just who I am; it didn’t shape me; I shaped the music,” she told Arab News. “My identity is what defines my art.”
Tamtam's positivity beams, radiating from her personality to her music, which she attributed to her parents. (AN Photo by Mishari AlKhathran)
Her upcoming album, Ma3assalama, captures that duality; one side Arabic, one side English.
“It’s about the two sides of who I am; my Arabic roots and my Western identity that’s also a part of me,” she said. “I just hope it inspires people to embrace who they are, even if they don’t fit neatly into one box.”
TamTam has watched the country’s music scene transform in just a few years — from underground performances to global stages.
“I’m so proud of the artists coming from Saudi, each one with their own beautiful journey unfolding,” she said.
“It’s only the beginning, but honestly, every part of the journey matters — the beginning, the middle, the end, and everything in between.”
Beyond her own music, TamTam is helping to shape that journey for others through Goast Flower, a creative hub she founded to bring musicians together.
Beyond her own music, TamTam is helping to shape that journey for others through Goast Flower, a creative hub she founded to bring musicians together. (Supplied0
The name comes from the “ghost flower,” a plant that blooms without sunlight.
“It grows in the darkest parts of the forest,” TamTam said. “It blooms without needing light, and that really resonated with me as an independent artist who’s always kept creating, no matter what.”
Through Goast Flower’s Saudi Music Community, artists can find each other, collaborate and share resources.
“Big companies have told me they’re using the database to find and discover artists,” TamTam said. “I don’t want to gatekeep the data. I truly want people in the music community here to find each other more easily.”
She believes that real growth begins in small spaces — the cafes, courtyards and pop-up stages where young artists play their first shows.
“We hope that through the Saudi music community, these artists can find others to collaborate with, but more importantly, that they find a support system,” she said.gger.”
Goast Flower hosted an event last month with Apple Music MENA in Riyadh, where emerging musicians met industry professionals. (Supplied)
Last month, Goast Flower hosted an event with Apple Music MENA in Riyadh, where emerging musicians met industry professionals and ended the night with a spontaneous jam session.
“It was such a beautiful night and a true testament to what community can create,” TamTam said. “These kinds of collaborations help artists learn, grow and dream bi
Whether it is the delicate strings of an oud in Beirut or an electronic beat pulsing through a Riyadh warehouse, these gatherings are doing something powerful — bringing people together through sound.
Tamtam says it is her fervent hope that through the Saudi music community, artists can find others to collaborate with. (Supplied)
Kamel’s evenings at Orenda may seem worlds away from Kharma’s symphonic shows or TamTam’s pop, but they all share the same intention; to connect, to express, to belong.
As Kharma put it: “Artists across the region are being more daring, blending genres, and redefining what Arab music can be.”
More than just a shift in style, this new wave of Arab music is helping people to reconnect — with each other, their roots and national identity.
“Lebanon has been through so much historically, and playing the oud is one of my ways of escaping some of the unfortunate situations we’ve lived through,” Kamel said.
“I want my music to create a safe place for people to learn, enjoy, come together and leave with a feeling of pride, peace and love of music, heritage and culture.”
