MAX Cooper at BHAN?
An amazing photo from Max Cooper’s show at the Royal Albert Hall by SNAPSI.CO.UK
OK, I admit it: the title is a little click-baity. Max Cooper isn’t playing at BHAN. But his influence will be there — and there’s a lovely story behind it.
Nans / SOLAR·ITY
On 6 November, Nans, the Barcelona-based artist behind SOLAR·ITY, is coming to London to headline BHAN for Palestine with a DJ set and live visuals. I’m also planning to write live beside them, projecting my words alongside their visual work. Music, images and words unfolding together, with a room full of people bringing their own energy into the experience. And if you ever attended a Max Cooper’s show, this should intrigue a bit!
BHAN Talk #1
BHAN Talk is a new experiment of mine: a chance to get to know the people who make up our community — ravers, DJs, fellow event organisers who share the BHAN spirit, and anyone with a story to tell. The format is as simple as it gets, with one rule: whatever we say stays. No editing, no post-production, just the two of us talking and seeing where the conversation takes us.
Max Cooper’s influence
As emerged in the first episode of BHAN Talk, Max Cooper is an inspiration for both of us. Nans spoke about how his work has influenced their approach to sound and visuals, and I immediately recognised that admiration.
I’ve seen him perform several times, and his show at the Royal Albert Hall on 7 April deserves a chapter of its own. For now, I’ll leave you with the final image: me, in just my underwear, in the middle of the hall at the end of the show. There’s a story there. Obviously. I hope one day I will find the time and the motivation to write about it!
Max in Barcelona, Nans in London
There was also a slightly painful coincidence: during our conversation, Nans mentioned that Max Cooper was due to play in Barcelona on 6 November, the very evening they’ll be here with us. So they’re missing one of their artistic heroes to come and play for BHAN. That deserves some love.
When SOLAR·ITY met Joe-BHAN
Although the November event gave us a reason to sit down together, our conversation took us back to where the story began: a beach in Albania.
In June, we met at Anjunadeep Explorations, in Dhërmi, at the Cove: a stage beside the sea, with people dancing on a white pebble beach and sometimes in the water. Nans had returned to the festival for a second time, approaching it as a spiritual retreat.
They spoke about being polyamorous, already having plenty of love in their life, and arriving without the intention of finding someone. Then they noticed me enjoying the music, practicing what they will later come to know as BHANning - that is, the ancient art of letting the music pass through your soul and move your body, almost as possessed.
Sweet Mistakes: from Dhërmi to London?
I remembered that encounter just as clearly. James Grant was playing at the Cove when he dropped Sweet Mistakes by Mark Novas. I was in the sea, but I needed to Shazam that track, so I rushed out of the water and up the white pebbles to grab my phone before the moment passed. Imagine if Nans plays it at the next BHAN. I might have to go straight back into the sea — emotionally, at least.
Anjuna-Queer
After the grab, I was completely absorbed in dancing. Then Nans saw me, and I saw Nans, with their queerness and energy, and felt an immediate connection.
I loved the Anjunadeep community, but queer people had felt like a small and less visible part of it. Meeting Nans there meant something. We kept finding each other throughout the festival, sharing affection and building a connection that would continue long after we left the beach. Somewhere along the way, we founded Anjuna-Queer.
Little did we know that a dear queer friend of mine from the Anjunafamily, Gab, had the same idea while attending ABGT700. Now we’re bringing the two communities together — making more space for queer connection within a musical family we already love.
Please leave a comment if you want to be added!
The last all-nighter
One of our strongest memories was the last-day afterparty. After an all-nighter, we were in a hotel as dawn arrived, and I put on an HVOB set for Cercle that Nans had told me was one of their favourites. They were in front of me, the sun was coming up, and the whole thing felt magical. Retelling it in BHAN Talk, I briefly managed to confuse sunrise with sunset before we corrected it together. Apparently, even the most vivid memories can get a little tangled when you say them out loud.
the first micro-bhan
We stayed in touch, and in August I invited Nans to London for a weekend around Anjunadeep Open Air and Maiden Voyage. Before those bigger events, we had a small Friday gathering at my place. Very small, actually: seven people altogether, including Nans. One DJ, six dancers. Our first micro-BHAN.
For Nans, what mattered was the feeling of being given space. They remembered the details, the effort to bring everything together, and the people who came ready to connect with their music. On the terrace, on a sunny summer afternoon, they played a deep set that carried us towards sunset. Afterwards, the gratitude they received stayed with them. They described it as the moment a seed was planted: perhaps this was something they could offer the community in London.
Then we brought the controller inside, closed the windows and carried on. The music moved towards techno, and we still wanted to dance. Looking back, the progression felt very BHAN: starting gently, finding our feet, then building towards the part where our bodies really get moving. That afternoon gave us a shared experience to build on, and it helped me see how naturally Nans understood the energy of BHAN.
what to expect on 6 november
On 6 November, we’re giving ourselves an opportunity to develop that creative connection further. Nans described a performance combining music and visuals, alongside their excitement about meeting everyone on the dance floor. I shared my plan to write live next to them, allowing my words to appear alongside their images as the set unfolds. I’m excited by the possibility of responding to the music in the moment and sharing that response with the room.
You see the white wall behind the brown table? That’s where we are going to project the visuals! We’re still working out how to make the projections happen with the equipment and budget available. But it will happen for sure!
Why raving for palestine?
The conversation also turned to why the event is BHAN for Palestine. We both expressed our support for a free Palestine, and I spoke about my belief that politics belongs on the dance floor. I connected that to the spaces Black and queer communities created in response to marginalisation: places for freedom, resistance, self-expression and joy. For me, dancing together also means recognising the world around us.
And this reconnects to the recent story I wrote on my own blog, “Dancing for Palestine”.
The fundraiser
We want 6 November to hold celebration and solidarity together.
We’ll be selling a range of items to support our fundraising for Palestine, including:
Limited-edition homemade BHAN for Palestine water bottles and stickers — still in the making!
The BHAN journey
We also talked about how we want people to feel throughout the evening. The plan is to begin with social time at 6.30pm, with Paul “The Nephew” Fitzpatrick opening, before moving into BHAN time at 8pm.
There will be a moment to sit together, introduce the experience and take three deep breaths before dancing. After the music finishes at 11pm, we’re allowing half an hour to decompress. We both recognised that abrupt club ending — music off, lights on, everyone out — and wanted to give people a gentler way to land.
SOLAR·ITY is the first resident DJ of BHAN
Towards the end of the episode, we shared some news that makes this feel like the beginning of a longer journey. SOLAR·ITY will become BHAN’s first resident DJ, with the hope of returning to London at least four times in 2027.
Nans also joined the first BHAN Assembly, the advisory group being formed to bring different perspectives, expertise and second opinions into the project. I have plenty of ideas, and I want people around me who can help question them, shape them and bring their own knowledge to what we’re building.
BHAN in Barcelona: AYA
And something has already begun in Barcelona. Nans told us about their first-ever exhibition there in September, bringing together photography and immersive spaces. After our micro-BHAN in August, they decided to carry the experience into the exhibition’s opening evening, playing a two-hour set with no talking and no phones. Some people were unfamiliar with that format, but Nans remembered them embracing it. Now they’re excited about the possibility of growing a community there, with support from the connections being built in London. They invited me over, and I said yes. Now we just need to sort out the logistics!
BHAN is bigger than anyone
That brought us to something I’ve come to understand through BHAN: the idea is bigger than any one person. There is a company and a community in London, but the practice of being present, connecting through music and making space for one another can travel. Hearing how Nans had already carried it into their exhibition was a beautiful reminder of that. We spoke about gathering through movement and music as a ritual with a long human history, and about how valuable it can feel amid the distractions of everyday life.
See you there?
So, no Max Cooper at the decks this time. But on 6 November, there will be SOLAR·ITY, live visuals, live writing, and a community coming together for Palestine. After everything that has brought us here, I can’t wait to share that room with you!
