By Luke Nickel
ADIRA is a Berlin-based party and community event series celebrating Arabic pop and the diversity of queer Arab identities. Since 2023, they’ve held numerous events in Berlin and across Europe.
In 2024, they launched the first-ever Arab Drag Festival, featuring over 30 Arab artists from Berlin and other cities across Europe, and did a festival showcase at WHOLE Festival.
At its core are DJs, performers, and hosts Hassandra (they/them) and Zuher Jazmati (he/him). Hassandra is a Lebanese performer and DJ known for their daring drag and dry, witty hosting. Zuher is a Syrian-German DJ and activist working under the name xanax_attax, who plays a blend of vintage pop from the 80s, 90s, and 00s, plus rare electro tracks.
Next week, on 4 July, ADIRA holds its next event, ADIRA Party: Summer Edition, at AQUA-HÖFE in Berlin-Kreuzberg. With sky-high temperatures forecasted, this one promises to be a hot, sweaty banger. Ahead of it, I chat with them about the party, the politics, and the people they bring together on the dancefloor.
Let’s talk about the name, ADIRA. I read it’s Arabic slang for someone who is confident.
According to their press kit, the word is an Arabic slang term used in Levantine queer cultures signifying someone with “a strong presence who is capable.” I ask if they can use it in a sentence for me.
Hassandra laughs and says, “Let’s say you told off a German on the street, in German, and you just popped off; I’ll just say ‘Adira’. Or you have three boyfriends in one summer, I’ll say ‘Adira’. The more accomplishments you have, the longer the ‘i’ sound will be.”
“ADIRA is basically a title you have to earn.”
– xanax_attax
I can confidently say that both of them have earned their ‘Adira’. They are both multihyphenate promoter-DJ-artist-performers with seemingly endless ideas and talents.
How did ADIRA start?
xanax_attax says that he and Hassandra worked together before on Queer Arab Barty, a regular event that ended during the COVID-19 pandemic. After reconnecting for a drag photoshoot in 2022, they dreamt up a new party series—this one.
He says they wanted to create it for “Arabs, queers, and lovers of Arab pop music from our childhood and teenage years.”
I have been to two ADIRA events. Both times, I was struck by the mood: celebratory, chatty, a bonded crowd dancing together. Both times felt like a community, a great vibe, so I ask:
How do you create a strong sense of community?
Hassandra says part of the vibe comes from the shimmying dance move that so many ADIRA attendees like.
“It’s the type of dance you can never, ever dance alone. If someone is really shaking their hips, then you can’t help but clap for them,” they say. “The songs at ADIRA have lots of lyrics that people can sing along with, and most are major throwbacks that bring a crowd together.”
But it goes beyond music and dancing. xanax_attax says the first thing Hassandra does when they work with a new venue is talk to the light tech.
“Hassandra tells them not to put on any dark lights! It should be bright, colorful, and kitschy!”
– xanax_attax
Hassandra points out that they’ve been promoting the party in Arabic “since the beginning.” Their attention to detail extends to the door team, who are always queer and Arabic community members.
xanax_attax says, “I think this is something a lot of people who come not only want, but miss.”
Do you think clubs and dance floors are political?
xanax_attax: “Totally. Absolutely.”
Then, passionately:
“We are living in a time in Germany when our people are experiencing one of the most severe anti-Muslim crusades, anti-Arab racism, and, for three years, even stronger anti-Palestinian racism. And it’s connected to genocide that is being funded by this country. It’s a political statement for us to take up space in Berlin.”
– xanax_attax
Then he softens a bit: “The reality is, we bring many people together who are happy to create a community, who are happy to celebrate from night to morning and purely exist by dancing and celebrating and moving.”
From karaoke-focused events to a drag festival to fundraising for the Gaza Biennale, ADIRA has a range of formats. So I ask:
How do you come up with your ideas?
Hassandra says dryly: “Capitalism.”
I know they’re being funny, but truthful. Hassandra says: “It goes back to feeling like we have to present something new each time, but also from our personal interests and desires.” Then:
“We never thought of ADIRA as just a party.”
– Hassandra
xanax_attax says it’s also a response to current events. “Who would have known four years ago that we would need to do a fundraiser for the Gaza Biennale?”
But the collective is not just reacting to geopolitical wars. In November 2024, xanax_attax realized it was the 90th birthday of Fairuz, a Lebanese pop icon, and “immediately” planned an event to honor her legacy.
The only thing limiting ADIRA? “So little time, so little money, so few resources, and so little energy,” xanax_attax says. “So little energy.”
Laughing, I say that, from the outside, no one would know that. I can hardly keep track of where the duo is off to next, with recent parties in Austria and the Netherlands.
I turn my attention to Hassandra, one of Berlin’s most beloved drag queens. They won the Mx. Kottie pageant in 2019, and since then, they’ve been a regular voice on the scene. ADIRA has now held two annual drag festivals featuring queens, kings, and performers of all kinds.
How does Arabic drag differ from the more American style of drag that’s gone mainstream?
I call this Americanised version the “RuPaul-industrial complex,” with a wink. We laugh, and Hassandra says, “How to sell yourself plays a huge role for Arab drag performers. It comes out in simplifying yourself, in silly acts of self-orientalism.” But they are cautious to make too much of a critique: they say a bigger difference might be that Arabic drag focuses less on entertainment.
“Arabic drag focuses on memory and reclaiming, on embracing the complex emotions we’re going through, a lot of grief over the genocide and the war, and a lot of resistance.”
– Hassandra
Hassandra points out that this is what drag, all drag, is really about. “It’s an art form with a lot of protest in it, and a lot of resilience in it.”
When talking to performers about ADIRA’s drag festival, Hassandra says, “There is this pressure of BIPOC bodies to always be political, so I often encourage them to just have fun.”
At this, I check myself a bit and tell them so. We have spent half our interview talking about the political aspects of their events, and I acknowledge that, as a white person, this is often the temptation: to see people of color’s existence or expression as inherently political. So, let’s move on and talk about the music!
If you could choose one track to represent ADIRA, what is it?
At this, xanax_attax and Hassandra audibly groan. “We get asked this often,” Hassandra tells me.
Still, they humor me and explain a running gag that they repeatedly play a track by Sherine, an Egyptian pop diva, at each party.
But I sense I’m not getting the full picture, so I try again:
How about a track that represents where you want ADIRA to be in three years?
This doesn’t go where I expect and results in a rousing chat about the current state of Arabic pop.
Hassandra tells me that, due to charged political events in the 2010s in many Arabic-speaking countries, there was almost no new pop music made during that time. The divas from the early 2000s still had money, so they kept producing, but they didn’t leave much room for new music.
Now, Hassandra says, there has been a recent revival in Arabic pop because of new singers in the scene, many singing in their own dialects or in broken Arabic mixed with English. Hassandra tells me the Lebanese singer Haifa Wehbe best represents this.
“Haifa Wehbe is a classic story of a pop diva who can’t really sing. She made a career out of nothing. But who wants a pop diva who can sing? She’s so smart. She sees where music is going and knows how to make a viral two-minute track on TikTok.”
– Hassandra
How do you both approach making DJ sets?
xanax_attax says it starts with pop and music that is recognizable. He spends hours on YouTube listening to playlists focusing on geographic regions or years.
He says, “That’s how I find music that I haven’t heard in a super long time. It’s just about digging, you know?”
I tell him I love this millennial reimagining of crate digging, scrolling through YouTube playlists.
He says that, like Hassandra, he’s also moving to finding newer songs or electronic edits of older ones, and that ultimately, it’s all about responding to the crowd. “Maybe it’s going to be mostly white people who are there. So I can’t pull out the same songs. I have to mix it up.”
Hassandra adds, “Or it’s Arabs who haven’t had a chance to go to an Arab party. Pop music is a big umbrella.”
Hassandra describes other genres people might expect at an ADIRA event: Dabke, commonly known as Levantine wedding music; Arabic hip hop, or Mahraganat; and Egyptian wedding music, which xanax_attax likes to play.
The duo says that many of these genres are seen as working-class music, while others, like Raï from North Africa, are generally unfamiliar to both of them, so they make sure there’s someone on the lineup who’s an expert.
My head is spinning at all this: So much music to explore! It’s amazing to hear all the different factors that make a DJ set at ADIRA, from recognizability to cultural context to geographic location. When I saw the ADIRA showcase at WHOLE Festival, I could feel the crowd come alive on certain songs. Even though I wasn’t familiar with them, it was fun to be part of a crowd that was absolutely singing its heart out.
Hassandra says this communal attitude means that at “every party we have to tell people, no music requests.”
But there is a balance. Sometimes they have to play music they don’t love, like a popular ballad by Syrian singer Assala, which is “barely mixable.”
“We can’t be arrogant DJs. Sometimes people love when we take it up a notch and bring in electronic. But sometimes they hate it, and say so.”
– Hassandra
Let’s talk about your 4 July event, ADIRA Party: Summer Edition at AQUA-HÖFE.
It’s subtitled “Hotter Than All the Gossip.” Hassandra explains: “This is from an iconic song by Syrian singer George Wassouf.” The direct translation of the original Arabic basically expresses the sentiment that people’s talk and gossip don’t change anything, so pay it no mind.
Hassandra tells me people often get this lyric, in its original Arabic, tattooed on their feet. “People’s gossip is on your foot; it doesn’t matter.”
xanax_attax says the party on 4 July will be “exactly what people want, an OG ADIRA party. There are going to be classic ADIRA pop songs. And a North African set as well.”
They both feel it’s time to go back to the party’s roots. Hassandra says, “It’s also a protest to this capitalist approach.” I ask them to explain that, and they tell me a stripped-down party is a protest to the capitalist requirement of always generating new ideas, more performances, and extra gimmicks.
That more minimalist approach, doing what works well and leaving out the rest, focused their planning for the 4 July event.
What can people expect if they haven’t been to ADIRA before?
“It’s a lot of talking to strangers. A lot of joyful moments. A lot of people pulling out their phones to Shazam a song. A lot of great music.”
– Hassandra
xanax_attax laughs and adds: “No darkrooms, but beautiful conversations.”
This is exactly how I experienced it. I tell them I attended dressed in my most “don’t-talk-to-me” outfit, and even so, three people introduced themselves as soon as I walked in and were dance floor buddies for the whole party.
As our talk ends, I close with some rapid-fire questions.
What does success mean to you?
xanax_attax: “Getting what you want”.
Hassandra: “Failing.”
What do you do on a day off?
“I like to smoke a biggie, order food, and watch Drag Race all day long.”
– xanax_attax
Hassandra has no answer: they “never” take a day off.
Are you reading anything good lately?
Hassandra is reading If an Egyptian Cannot Speak English by Noor Naga, and xanax_attax is working through a book by Arundhati Roy, “an Indian philosopher and writer, and the book is called Azadi, which in Kurdish means freedom.”
Anyone else on your team who deserves a shout-out?
Hassandra drops a list of names of people who are central to making ADIRA happen: DumTak, Amar, Ola, Imad Gebrael, and Marwan Hawash.
Then Hassandra adds, “Also, a big shout-out to Tzkrti, the platform where we sell tickets. It’s Palestinian-owned.”
Follow ADIRA on Instagram and get tickets now for ADIRA Party: Summer Edition on 4 July at AQUA-HÖFE, and follow co-organizers Hassandra and xanax_attax.
Dr. Luke Nickel is an award-winning Canadian multidisciplinary artist, writer, and composer living in Berlin. His interests include experimental music, speculative fiction, roller coasters, and contemporary performance. He’s eager to write about people and practices on the margins of the mainstream.
Words: Luke Nickel
Edits: Alexander Cheves
Photos: Mara Menzel + Images courtesy of ADIRA Party
