
Hoxton Charlottenburg "Wine & Vinyl" Residency
We are curating DJs for the Hoxton hotel lobby for ten weeks from October.
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Music, food, and community at Oona Bar’s Closing Weekend.
By Héloïse Leclercq
Dub & Dal is a project rooted in dub, reggae, bass music, homemade food, and a shared love for soundsystem culture. Founded by Indian-born, Berlin-based curator Aarti Kriplani, Dub & Dal started with a radio show and grew into sessions of workshops, shared meals, and heavy sound.
This Friday from 6 to 8pm, they are back on air at Refuge Worldwide for a talk on wellbeing in dance music and a first listen to Eruption, the debut O.M.Theorem album, recorded live at Dub & Dal.
We caught up with Aarti to learn more about the project’s roots and the community behind it.
How did Dub & Dal start? It started at our home. Tobias (O.M. Theorem) had a monthly show on VersLibre, a community radio in Bergen, and we were really into dub music in all its forms. I began inviting friends and DJs I knew as guests for the show, and also friends to come listen and eat together with us. My go-to dish for a big group was always Dal, and one day we joked, “We’re having Dub & Dal”.
We were going to a lot of dub and soundsystem parties because we wanted to hear the music as it should be heard. But the gender balance in those spaces was tough; even compared to other electronic music scenes. The culture around soundsystems, with the big stacks, dubplate exclusivity, and a lot of macho energy, felt overwhelmingly male-dominated. On the other hand, the modern bass music scene was much more diverse and welcoming, but often disconnected from the warmth of soundsystems and the roots of the music - reggae, dub.
Dub & Dal grew out of wanting to bridge that gap. To build a space for soundsystem culture that is diverse, honours its roots, and still carries the same welcoming vibe we had at home.
Homemade Indian food is central to your events. What kind of atmosphere does a shared meal create during your event?
Food is communal. It’s at the centre of festivals, holidays, celebrations and rituals all around the world. At Dub & Dal, we all eat the same food, smell the same flavors, and feel that same warmth inside us. It softens the atmosphere: people look at each other, smile, and talk while eating, whether they’re old friends or meeting for the first time.
Sharing Indian food, especially Sindhi dishes from my community, is also a way of storytelling. When people ask about recipes or the origins of a dish, it opens conversations about migration, memory, and how food travels. We want to keep the DIY spirit alive: ‘Homemade Food’ & ‘Handbuilt Soundsystems’.
Your events often start slow and build through the day. How does that rhythm shape how people connect?
We aim to create gatherings where people from all backgrounds can participate and make new connections, reconnect with familiar faces. Starting early with food makes that possible, even for families with kids. It also gives me the chance to showcase some experimental and not-dub acts, before the energy rises.
Curry & Curiosity brings in conversations around care and collective action. Why do those themes feel important in a music space?
Curry & Curiosity began as a talk series I started with Deborshi Chakraborty under the Community Chai project, and we’re now folding it, along with Feed & Feedback, into the Dub & Dal Collective. At Panke for the Kali edition, for example, we opened with a talk on the Iranian feminist movement Jin, Jiyan, Azadi. The point was clear: music spaces aren’t neutral; culture is political. The dancefloor can be a place of solidarity as much as celebration.
Feed & Feedback sessions invite producers to share unreleased music. What are you hoping to nurture with that?
The collaborative aspect of creating music, like a band would, is often missing in electronic music. Online feedback exists, but sharing music is personal, and we believe it’s best done in a safe, supportive space. The interaction is just as valuable for those giving feedback as for those receiving it, often sparking new ideas and co-creation. Grant and Tobias both experienced this through Martyn’s 3024 program. With Feed & Feedback, we’re adding food to the mix, making the exchange even more communal.
You’re also running workshops on soundsystem culture. What do you want people to take away from those?
Education has always been a big part of Dub & Dal. Whether that’s a soundsystem exhibition, polyrhythm workshop, or a panel discussion about live/hybrid setup. Over the years, while hosting soundsystems, I’ve realized that most DJs have not even seen a control tower, let alone operated one. It’s because access to a soundsystem (and the control tower) is impossible, unless you are part of a soundsystem crew or have enough money to own a whole stack. We wish to make this skill more accessible with this workshop format. We tested it in May and will offer it again on October 18th at MaHalla.
Dub and bass-heavy music are at the core of what you do, but you also include Konnakol, poetry, live performances. What draws you to that range of sound?
When I think about curation, it’s not just about selecting artists. It’s about shaping an experience, a feeling I want people to carry through the evening. That’s reflected in the topic of the talk or workshop and even in the food menu.
Live performances are central to that curation. The raw sound of instruments is eclectic, but also deeply personal. You’re witnessing something that can’t be repeated in the same way again. It's delivered in real time: mistakes, improvisations, emotions & all.
I also want to platform South Asian sounds and musicians, especially Konnakol, which I believe has a huge potential to evolve into a rap genre of its own. In the end, this comes from a lifelong love of music. I grew up with my dad’s record collection, spent years diving into different genres, and while friends encouraged me to DJ, I’ve really found my home in the role of a curator and I’m thoroughly enjoying it.
On the radio tomorrow, you’re talking with Zena about wellbeing in club culture. Why is that topic important to you right now?
Zena (Genevieve) proposed this workshop to me, and I loved the idea because it’s something I think about a lot too. Community is at the heart of what we do, and many of the issues Zena wants to address are the same ones that drive our work. Club culture is often built on escapism, it gives people a place to forget reality, which can feel healing in the moment, but it isn’t sustainable for body or mind in the long run. I see a lot of people who go out all the time and still feel lonely. That’s why it feels important to talk about wellbeing now and Zena has valuable insights and suggestions to share.
O.M.Theorem’s Eruption is your first label release?
It’s funny that you ask that. We were debating a lot if Eruption should be the first Dub & Dal album, and in many ways, it would make so much sense. In the end, we decided to keep it on the O.M.Theorem label, but we still present it through the Dub & Dal lens because the album was shaped here. It was performed several times on different soundsystems and finally recorded as a continuous piece of music at our MaHalla gathering earlier this year. That said, the Dub & Dal label extension is ready, I’m just waiting for the right moment to launch it.
You often talk about creating spaces that feel like home. What does that look like to you, on and off the dancefloor?
If you’ve read this far, hopefully you have an idea what this means now. Come experience it yourself on October 18th at MaHalla!
Come down to Oona Bar for a listen and a meal with the Dub & Dal crew during Closing Week.