As part of the series of interviews that I was conducting at the eighth Doha Song Festival, one of my most precious encounters came in the form of a dialogue with Morocco's Asmaa Lmnawar. As a young girl, she was invited to sing at a concert commemorating the achievements of Ahmed Fuad Najm, the prolific Egyptian poet. She has sang about the horrific experiences of Moroccan migrant workers and refugees throughout Europe. Recently, she recorded a memorable duet with with Kadhum El Saher, the region's most sought after artist. He described Lmnawar as a jewel in the sea of female voices in the Arab world. I had the opportunity to sit down with her for this memorable and very informative discussion.

bigHead: Asmaa, what's 'tarab'?
Asmaa: You are asking for the definition of a really important word. I will try to give you my humble interpretation which I have come to realize through my experiences in my career. I feel that 'tarab' is a higher state that both the listener and the artist reach to. That is also the technical definition which is commonly understood amongst most artists. For me, it is when a singer provokes the listener to the point where her or his body is tingling, to where the listener even starts swearing. Others might also define it as the beautiful composition with substantial lyrics, usually something far from music which is intended to make you dance, or a particular style of unified percussion like 'samri' in the Gulf. That is what I would define as 'tarab'.

bigHead: Is 'tarab' still around in Arabic music?
Asmaa: As others define it, yes. In the way that I define it, it depends. I always strive to reach 'tarab'. In every song, even those with fast rhythm. I want to provoke the listener's mind, body, and soul, even to the point, like I said, to where she or he starts swearing.

bigHead: But are you a minority in the world of singing?
Asmaa: There were many pioneers before me. Even emerging artists want to give the listener pleasure, perhaps through dance, and still make them reach a higher state. It is all related to invoking emotions, making the listener laugh or cry. It's all about reaching 'tarab'.

bigHead: Arabic music is changing though, isn't it?
Asmaa: Before i started singing, I used to be a listener. I was an encyclopedia of listening. I listened to everything, not only music from the Arab world. As a Berber, and an Arab from Morocco, I grew up in a very culturally rich and diverse environment. From the north to the south of the country, there are different styles and different percussions. As I grew up, I started to listen to music from the outside. Therefore, we can say, that that is the sign of the times now. That there is change all over the world, there is an exchange. People are looking at each other's cultures. Western artists might like to use Arabic percussion elements or use a 'kamanja' (violent) playing Eastern tones. Just like an Arabic arranger uses R&B, or uses the style music is mixed in the West. I think it's a mutual affair.

bigHead: But, through this exchange, is there a danger of us losing our identity?
Asmaa: Any opening of borders has an element of danger in it. But it is an experience in itself that's nice. Why not? And since we are Arabs and proud of our identity, we know how to salvage the situation, we know how to avoid the danger. We are in the beginning of this experiment, we're not at the middle or the end. If people sense danger, they will back off. And by the way, the Doha Song Festival is one of the efforts that is battling against this experiment of opening our musical doors to the West. It is an experiment that was carried out in Egypt and in North Africa through phenomena like Rai. The Qatari festival sensed or smelled the danger of fusion before it was too late and organized this event as a response to it by insisting that the event only includes acoustic instruments. I could be wrong, but that's my personal opinion.

bigHead: This is my first time meeting you, and in fact, it's the first time I listen to your music. From speaking to my colleagues in the press core covering this festival, and from what I have seen in their coverage, it seems that you are being touted as the savior of 'tarab'. How do you deal with that responsibility?
Asmaa: Firstly, the comments made by these journalists is a great honour for me. It's very nice from them. I hope that I not only work to conserve the traditions of 'tarab', but that I always present something beautiful. I will always strive to put the listener in a state of 'tarab', but more importantly, I am interested in presenting something beautiful. As I mentioned, I am not against fusion. There might be an element of danger in it, but i am not against it, As a woman from my generation and my era, I would like to use fusion in my art. However, I must make sure to maintain the quality of the lyrics and the music. I want my performances to put people in a state of 'tarab', even though it takes the shape of a modern mold. That should not be a problem.

bigHead: In both the West and in the Arab world, the music industry is more interested in presenting women as sex objects, as opposed to artists. What do you have to say about that?
Asmaa: It is a choice from the women herself. Some choose to market themselves in that way. Ultimately it's one's choice. If a women chooses to be used in that way, then for sure the viewer is going to see her in that way. It depends on the mood and setting that you create around you. As a singer, what is it that makes me a sexual object? It's the way I dress, the way I deal with others, the way I talk, the choice of my words, the way I sing. All these things, if were done in the right way in my opinion, wouldn't turn me into a sexual object, that's what I think.

I also asked Asmaa if she felt any pressure to look a certain way or do certain things in order to find more success in her artistic expidition. Her responses were very diplomatic, perhaps sensing the watchful eye of a major promoter in the Arab world sitting within earshot. She lamented the fact that woman are free to choose, and that our culture is ultimately dictated by moral guidelines, and is steeped in history and culture. Points that I don't necessarily agree with. But when i asked her if she would be free to do a music video that didn't feature her at all, but would rather highlight the poor children of her home country which she so proudly associates with, she looked at me with despair, and said that shes hopes so. Asmaa Lmnawar is in many ways a musical phenomenon. Her voice, distinct in character and strength, and her proximity to Arabic tradition combined with her colorful exposure to a variety of musical cultures and backgrounds, within Morocco and out, make her a versatile artist. Most striking, however, was how brave, humble, and poised she was in dealing with the growing powers of stardom in the region.

I would like to thank Asmaa Lmnawar for her time, and look forward to enjoying her upcoming works.