Photo by Josh Snaps
Iranian-British artists Pouya Ehsaei and Tara Fatehi have developed From the Lips to the Moon as a live meeting point between music, spoken word, poetry, performance and visual art. The project began with a series of nights at London’s Reference Point in 2022 and has since travelled to venues including Café OTO, the Southbank Centre, the V&A, Vinyl Factory and Grand Junction, as well as cities including Berlin, Cologne, Mexico City, Tijuana and Nice.
Its self-titled debut album brings together material shaped through more than 25 live shows. Across 12 tracks, Ehsaei and Fatehi are joined by musicians and spoken-word artists including Tamar Osborn, Kareem Dayes, Yelfris Valdes, Koroleko Moussa, Hammadi Valdes, Tim Etchells, Nisha Ramayya, MA.MOYO, Maureen Onwunali and Oluwaseun Olayiwola. Each track captures a different combination of voices and instruments, moving between electronics, poetry, raw vocal performances and acoustic textures.
Recorded live aboard Lightship 95, a studio on the Thames, the album retains the working method at the centre of the project. Musicians and poets responded to one another in real time, allowing improvisation and unexpected exchanges to shape the recordings. Ehsaei then rearranged, produced and mixed the material, condensing these performances into shorter pieces without removing the immediacy of the original encounters.
The album also draws inspiration from the long relationship between poetry and music across the Iranian Plateau, including the traditions of travelling storytellers and musicians. Rather than recreating a single live show, it documents how From the Lips to the Moon has changed across four years of performances, collaborations and conversations.
After several years of evolving as a live project, From the Lips to the Moon has finally taken the form of a debut album. What did the album allow you to express that couldn’t exist within the live performances?
The album allowed us to gather snapshots of some of the ephemeral moments of our live shows. We’ve had many voices and instruments in our live shows, and the album is an attempt to document at least some of them. Of course, we also wanted those further afield to experience From the Lips to the Moon.
During the production process, we tried to preserve the spontaneous connection between the artists alongside precision in the recording, editing and mixing.
The album brings together a remarkable range of musicians, poets and performers, yet it never feels fragmented. How did you approach weaving so many different voices into something that still feels like a singular artistic statement?
We led the album with the energy, atmosphere and tingling vibrations of our live shows—from the curation of the artists to the months-long mixing process. The flow of the album was really important to us. Each track has its own voice while also contributing to a larger whole. The album is a stream of sounds and half-stories that takes the listener to different places, highlighting the significance of all the little moments and details.
You chose to record at Lightship 95, preserving the spontaneity of musicians and spoken-word artists responding to one another in real time. Why was it important for the album to retain that sense of risk and immediacy?
This is how we make art: risky and immediate. It gives us the freedom to be current, urgent and responsive to what is happening inside us, around us and in the world.
Photo by Josh Snaps
If there’s one idea or feeling you hope stays with listeners after the album ends, what would you like it to be?
That many voices from different backgrounds can come together and create something unique when they are given the freedom to express themselves in a responsive environment. We’d like listeners to feel the rage, sadness, excitement, tenderness, confusion and brutality of our lived experiences—with a smile.
The result is exciting, even though you can’t quite pin it down. You’ve built From the Lips to the Moon into a community as much as a performance project. What has been the most valuable lesson you’ve learned about finding the right creative collaborators?
We’ve spent years working across music, performance and writing, and have built our community year by year. It takes time. The right collaborators are those who are excited about the work, contribute generously, tell us afterwards what they discovered through the show, and elevate our work while being elevated by it.
For artists starting out, there’s often pressure to network constantly. In your experience, what’s a more meaningful way of building lasting creative relationships?
For us, networking can never be forced. We look for genuine connections with our peers. Our emotional bond with another person matters more than what they can do for us. This creates long-lasting relationships that won’t feel hollow when we don’t “need” each other.
Photo by Jemima Yong
What advice would you give to emerging artists who feel their work doesn’t fit neatly into one scene or genre?
Things that fit in are often boring. Don’t compare yourself to others. Free yourself from conventional ideas of what a successful career looks like, let your intuition take over and trust that your authenticity will be appreciated by those who matter. The only way to establish a new genre is to keep doing it—and doing it well.
Beyond music, what’s been inspiring you lately?
It could be a book, film, exhibition, place or even a conversation that has stayed with you.
