Artists Look to Sufism for Echoes of the Divine

It’s March 24, the final Monday night of Ramadan, and Barzakh Cafe — a cozy venue in Crown Heights, Brooklyn — is packed for a qawwali, the Sufi devotional music tradition that originated in 13th-century South Asia. The six performers, the Saami Brothers, carry an unbroken lineage of qawwali spanning 800 years. This marks their first Ramadan tour in New York, a departure from their usual circuit in Pakistan. 

There are no microphones. Layered voices reverberate through the intimate space, weaving together ancient Urdu, Hindi, Arabic, and Farsi verses. The harmonium’s elongated chords rise and fall, interlocking with the tabla’s rhythmic pulse and the dholak’s deep drumming. Percussive clapping punctuates the performance, echoing the communal energy of a Sufi dhikr (“remembrance of God”) ceremony in which adherents engage in rhythmic chanting — often reciting the attributes of God, aloud or in silence — accompanied by breathing, poetry, music, and movement to reach a heightened spiritual state and deepen their connection to the divine.

For some attendees, this is an introduction to qawwali’s entrancing power; for others, it’s a familiar echo of nights spent in dargahs, or Sufi shrines. Regardless of background, all audience members are drawn into the shared experience — a testament to how qawwali, once rooted in sacred South Asian spaces, now flourishes in non-traditional settings, fueling a global subculture that extends from music to visual art and beyond, particularly in New York City. 

Through its Beyond Barzakh event series, Barzakh Cafe is one of several Muslim-owned spaces in the United States and Canada working to bring qawwali into mainstream awareness. Partnering with organizations such as Auliya Council, Khusrau Circle, and the Center for Cultural Vibrancy — as well as Chicago’s South Asia Institute — the cafe works to preserve this tradition and emphasize its significance as a spiritual practice that weaves music, poetry, and meditative remembrance together. Yet, as qawwali’s popularity grows, some adherents are concerned about its commercialization.

Mehdi Kazmi, founder of Auliya Council, began hosting qawwali gatherings at his Riverside home in 2008, soon expanding to churches, mosques, and universities. “To truly revive qawwali, it must be more than just listening — it has to restore the full spiritual experience,” he told Hyperallergic. Hamza Shad, founder of Khusrau Circle, echoed this concern: “Qawwali, in its purest form, is a spiritual practice — not entertainment. We risk losing its divine connection if we strip it of its purpose and poetry.”

Beyond traditional performance spaces, contemporary artists and curators — both those who grew up with qawwali and those who discovered it later — are expanding Sufi traditions while honoring their roots by blending Sufism’s philosophies with modern artistic movements. For several artists, Sufi music serves as both a gateway to and a catalyst for deeper spiritual and creative exploration. Sobia Ahmad, a visual artist based between Washington, DC, and Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, recalls discovering qawwali as a child through television and cassette tapes of the late Pakistani singer Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. “I was drawn to the yearning vibrations in qawwalis and their metaphors about God and love,” she told Hyperallergic. 

In her 2024 solo exhibition Devotions at the Gibson Center for the Arts at Washington College in Maryland, Ahmad integrated dhikr into her art. Shooting 35mm film in sync with her breath, she embodied the Sufi concept of tawhid (“oneness”). Her 16mm film “One Big Eye” (2024), shot at Pando — a forest of one tree with a single immense root system in Utah — similarly echoes themes of interconnectedness.

New York artist Saks Afridi, a self-proclaimed “Sufi sci-fi futurist” with whom I collaborated on the exhibition Spacemosque at the Brattleboro Museum in 2024, also cites Khan as an early influence. His love for restoring classic cars as part of his practice mirrors the spiritual path, he said — full of challenges, discoveries, and growth. “Sufism isn’t about perfection; it’s about the journey,” he reflected.

Brooklyn-based artist Zain Alam deepened his engagement with Sufism through a 2024 residency with Nawat Fes in Morocco. His three-part video installation Meter & Light (2024), exhibited during his 2024 residency at Recess in New York, spanned three walls and compelled viewers to shift their gaze, mirroring the whirling and chanting of a dhikr ceremony. 

Khalil Chishtee, another New York-based artist, incorporates Sufi philosophy into his sculptural practice. Raised in the Chishtiyya Sufi tradition, his work embodies the principle of zuhd — detachment from material possessions. He crafts installations wholly from discarded materials like plastic and car parts, imbuing spaces, such as permanent works at the Castlebraid complex in Bushwick, with warmth and humanity.

Italian-Senegalese artist Maïmouna Guerresi also explores Sufi spirituality, drawing from her experiences with the Muridiyya-Baye Fall brotherhood in Senegal. Through fantastical photography that blends Sufi symbology in works like “Beyond the Border” (2019) and “Aisha in Wonderland” (2016), depicting figures in flowing garments amid cosmic and natural landscapes, Guerresi explores faith, identity, and transcendence. Meanwhile, pieces such as “Swing” (2019) address environmental excess, seamlessly intertwining spiritual and sociopolitical themes.

Sufism’s influence on contemporary art and culture is increasingly reflected in institutional exhibitions, as well. Toronto’s Aga Khan Museum exhibited Rumi: A Visual Journey Through the Life and Legacy of a Sufi Mystic in 2023 to mark the 750th anniversary of the poet’s passing, showcasing artifacts, manuscripts, and contemporary works. At the Royal College of Music London, Awaken: Sufi Music and Women in South Asia (2024) explored the overlooked role of women in Sufi music across Pakistan, India, Kashmir, and Bengal.

“I wanted to move beyond qawwali as the only Sufi music tradition,” curator Attia Shiraz told Hyperallergic, emphasizing the deep interconnection of histories, poetry, and rituals.

As Sufi traditions find new life in urban cafes, contemporary art, and institutions, qawwali remains a vital force in the global spiritual and creative landscape. The challenge is to honor its roots while allowing it to evolve — ensuring its essence, the yearning for the divine, remains at its core.