(DE)Polarization

Ghent has been home to Shalan Alhamwy for the past ten years — a violinist, composer and artist with Syrian roots. His musical journey began at a young age in Syria, in a home where music was part of everyday life. Today, he performs with international orchestras, teaches young musicians and creates bridges between cultures. In this open conversation, he reflects on his path as an artist in exile, on finding a sense of home, on doubt, and on the gentle power of music.

A Child with an Oud

“My name is Shalan. I was born in Syria in 1982. I studied music, but I also studied pharmacy, although I never worked as a pharmacist. I have been living in Ghent for ten years now. I am Syrian, Belgian, a migrant and an artist — all at the same time.”

Music was never far away during his childhood. “My father was an amateur musician and played the oud, an Arabic string instrument. When I was seven, he gave me a child-sized version of the instrument. We often went to concerts together. Music was simply a natural part of my world.”

Eventually, however, he chose a different instrument. “One day, I heard a violinist perform in my hometown of Homs, and that moment really touched me. By coincidence, we had a small violin at home. I started experimenting with it and received tips from friends. That is how my love for the violin began.”

Today, the violin is his main instrument, although the oud remains present in his musical memory. “Recently, I discovered the mandolin — it is tuned like a violin, but you pluck the strings like an oud. In a way, my roots come together there.”

Music as a Cultural Encounter

In his work, Shalan combines influences from Arabic, Western and Turkish music. “I find that meeting of styles fascinating. Music is something fluid. Many of my musical heroes worked precisely at the crossroads of genres and cultures. That inspires me. At the moment, I am even experimenting with Brazilian music.”

When asked whether this blending of styles can also be seen as a form of integration, he answers thoughtfully: “Perhaps. But above all, for me it is an artistic instinct — I am always searching for new sounds, for dialogue between traditions. Music belongs to everyone.”

From Damascus to Ghent

What does it mean for an artist to have to leave their country? “It has a profound impact. Syria has a rich artistic landscape, but it is also organised quite rigidly. At the conservatory, you study classical European music, while Arabic music receives less recognition. Sometimes my teacher would not even allow me to play it.”

“Here in Belgium, there is more freedom. More room to experiment. In Syria, you had to choose: either classical music or Arabic music. Here, they are allowed to coexist. And that suits me.”

Migration has broadened his musical perspective. “In a city like Ghent or Brussels, you come across musical niches that I would never have discovered in Syria. That has broadened the way I think. My music has become broader. My identity has too.”

On Prejudice, Opportunities and Differences

Shalan emphasises that he feels grateful for the opportunities he has been given in Belgium. “My sound is different from that of most classical violinists. Perhaps that is exactly what opened certain doors.”

At the same time, he does not ignore the existence of prejudice. “Prejudice exists everywhere. Not only in relation to migration. It is something human. But we have to continue working on it collectively.”

Music connects people. It creates a space where people with different customs, languages and backgrounds can come together to create something beautiful.

Making Music as Dialogue

Shalan works in diverse groups and ensembles, including Jiraan and Damast Duo. “What fascinates me is the different ways in which people make music. The classical approach — writing everything down and then performing it — is only one way. There is also improvisation, playing by ear… When these different approaches come together in one group, something unique emerges. Every time, it becomes an exercise in dialogue.”

And that dialogue, he says, is essential in a society where people increasingly seem to be positioned against one another. “Music connects people. It creates a space where people with different customs, languages and backgrounds can still come together to make something beautiful.”

Home Is a Feeling

What does it mean to feel at home when you live between different countries? “For me, home is not a place, but a feeling. It is the people around me. That sense of connection. I feel at home in Ghent, but Syria still lives within me as well. I lived there for 33 years. Of course I feel homesick sometimes. But the Syria I long for no longer exists. It only lives on in my memories.”

Keep searching. Do not reach conclusions too quickly. Doubt is healthy. If you live at the crossroads of cultures, there is a lot of work to do — but that is exactly what makes you grow.

Art as a Response to Social Questions

Shalan is not only a performing musician. He also works as a programmer and educational staff member at De Centrale, a cultural centre in Ghent. “There, we organise the Children’s World Choir, a project in which children learn songs in one another’s languages. They sing together, accompany one another and meet one another. Even children who are difficult to reach start to flourish. That is the power of art.”

If he could give policymakers one message? “I would not give them a speech. I would take them to that concert. That says everything.”

On Dreams, Doubt and Young People

Shalan continues to dream. “One day, I would like to create a project that brings my musical practice and visual art together. The ideas are already there, but it will take a lot of work.”

And his message to young people growing up between cultures?

“Keep searching. Do not reach conclusions too quickly. Doubt is healthy. If you live at the crossroads of cultures, there is a lot of work to do — but that is exactly what makes you grow.”