Why korsi?

korsi is a community-rooted, artist-powered cultural collective that creates inclusive spaces for gathering, expression, and shared belonging. It began as intimate get-togethers and evolved into a platform to celebrate SWANA (South West Asia and North Africa) identities, artistic expression, and the warmth of collective presence.

The name carries our vision:

In Arabic, korsi means “chairs” — simple things that let us sit together.
In Persian, a korsi is a low table covered with blankets, warmed from underneath — a place to gather, eat, talk, and stay close.

For us, it’s both: a word for comfort and community, and an invitation to belong.

Our mission

To foster inclusive, culturally resonant spaces that center SWANA diasporic experiences through art, community care, and political awareness — while challenging the marginalization of migrant voices in the cultural field.

Our goals

Create recurring gathering spaces that nurture emotional connection and cultural exchange.
Support SWANA artists and storytellers with care, visibility, and fair infrastructure.
Strengthen intergenerational belonging between first- and second-generation migrants.
Celebrate cultural heritage while shaping future narratives through dialogue, workshops, music, and performance.
Build alliances with collectives that share korsi’s values.

What korsi means in practice

We mix German with Arabic, wrong tones with laughter, resistance with rest. We ask: what does collective recovery look like for our generation?

For second-generation migrants especially, life in Germany often centers resistance, protest, and front-line fight. korsi honors that work — but we also create the spaces of care and rest that resistance needs to survive.

We reimagine tradition for the present. We’ve turned classical concerts into party vibes, techno into Balushi rhythms, and collective dance into political work without naming it so. We embrace what our cultures lacked, like women dancing freely, and reframe what they gave us, like intimate hospitality, in open, public spaces.

Why we gather

We want to rethink gatherings.
We want to create life-changing moments through presence, not performance.
We want people to come together with ease and harmony, in spaces that feel safe without having to be declared so.

At korsi, gatherings are not about excessive consumption or curated perfection. They are about fulfillment — the feeling of leaving an event lighter, warmer, more connected.

It’s about meeting people you didn’t know before, exchanging music, culture, and stories, discovering how close we are across languages and borders. It’s about the intimacy of talking about everyday things, the randomness of conversations, and the variety that makes every gathering new.

When Ustad Noor performed at korsi, it wasn’t just a concert. It was a rare moment of seeing a neighbor’s culture not as “other,” but as ours — a shared quality in our variety. That is the kind of closeness we want to cultivate again and again.

For artists

korsi is a stage, but not one that demands.

We support artists from the first message to the aftermath of an event.
We engage personally: this is your project, your art, your stage.
We don’t dictate what to play. We trust. And whatever is shared, we embrace.

For emerging artists, approaching agencies or promoters often feels impossible. At Korsi, we create a mindful environment where the answer is: “You are safe, you are welcome, and we will take care of it.”

We generate opportunities and income for creatives in our community, while offering freedom to release emotions and experiment without barriers. Some of the most vulnerable, sensitive conversations we’ve had at Korsi came not from the stage, but in the in-between — the “I wanna talk to you” moments that make Korsi, Korsi.

In the end

korsi emerged in response to an absence:

the absence of shared spaces that reflect the cultural complexity and emotional reality of SWANA communities in Germany,
the absence of public environments that feel warm, welcoming, and defined by us.

Korsi bridges cultures without flattening them, platforms artists without tokenizing them, and offers belonging without conditions.

It’s not just about events. It’s about building collective memory and cultural continuity in exile and diaspora.

Korsi is not something you attend. It’s something you become part of.