Myriam Fares: The Life Story Behind Lebanon's Queen of the Stage

Myriam Fares is called the queen of the stage in Lebanon, and anyone who has seen her perform knows why. She does not only sing. She dances, she moves, she fills the stage with energy, and she turns a concert into a celebration. Her voice is strong, her dance is bold, and her shows are among the most exciting in Arab pop music. For more than twenty years, she has been the singer who makes a room move, and her fans love her for that joy.

She was born in Kfar Shlal, a village in the mountains of southern Lebanon, and she grew up far from the bright lights of Beirut. She was a girl who loved to dance and to sing, and she practised both with a discipline that surprised people around her. She did not become famous quickly. She studied dance, she performed in small shows, and she worked her way up, step by step, until her name was known across the Arab world. Her story is a story about movement, about energy, and about a woman who turned her body and her voice into one performance.

This is the story of that queen of the stage. It follows her from Kfar Shlal to Beirut, from her first album to her greatest hits, from her years as a pop star to her performance at the World Cup, and to the place she holds today as one of the most exciting performers in Lebanon. It is a story about dance, about joy, and about a singer who never stops moving.

A Girl From Kfar Shlal Who Loved to Dance

Myriam Fares was born on 3 May 1983 in Kfar Shlal, a village in the Chouf District of Mount Lebanon. Kfar Shlal is a quiet place in the mountains, where life moves slowly and where people know each other. Myriam grew up there, in a family that valued music and dance, and she was drawn to movement from an early age. She danced at home, she sang, and she performed for her family, learning how it felt to hold the attention of a room.

Her childhood was shaped by the mountains, by school, and by the sounds of Lebanese music. She heard the songs of Lebanon on the radio, and she heard the rhythms that made people dance at weddings and at family gatherings. She was not a shy girl. She was energetic, she was bold, and she loved to be on stage, even a small stage at home. That energy would become her trademark, and it would set her apart from other singers who stood still.

She studied dance seriously, and she learned ballet and other forms of dance, which gave her a discipline that many singers do not have. Dance is hard work. It asks for early mornings, for practice, for pain, and for patience. Myriam accepted that work, and she became a dancer as well as a singer. That double skill, singing and dancing together, would become the heart of her career, because she could do on stage what few other Arab singers could do: sing a song while dancing with power and grace.

The Lebanon of her youth was a country recovering from war, and life was not always easy. Yet music and dance remained a part of daily life, and Myriam’s family supported her love for both. She went to school, she studied, and she kept dancing, and she began to dream of a career on stage. That dream was not easy for a girl from a mountain village, but Myriam was determined, and she worked for it with a focus that impressed everyone who knew her.

As a teenager, she began to perform in public, at first in small shows and at talent contests, and people noticed that she had something special. She was not only a good singer. She was a performer, a young woman who could sing, dance, and hold a stage all at once. That combination was rare, and it would soon take her to Beirut and to the wider Arab world.

Studio El Fan, the First Album, and Ana Wel Shoq

Myriam Fares’ first big step came when she took part in Studio El Fan, the Lebanese talent show, in 2003, and she won the first prize in the Lebanese song category. The win introduced her to audiences across Lebanon, and it gave her a start in the music world. She was twenty years old, she was energetic, and her performance showed a singer who could dance as well as sing. The judges and the audience saw something new, and they remembered her.

Her first album, Myriam, was released in 2003, and it introduced her as a pop singer with a fresh sound. The album’s best-known song, Ana Wel Shoq, which means I and longing, became a hit, and it showed her gift for a melody that is both romantic and danceable. The song was played on the radio, at parties, and at weddings, and it made her name known to people across Lebanon and the Arab world. It was not a sudden explosion of fame. It was a strong beginning, and Myriam built on it with energy.

She followed it with more albums, including Nadini in 2005, and the title song became another favourite. Nadini, which means call me, was a song about longing, sung with a warmth that made it feel personal, and it showed that Myriam could sing a romantic song as well as a dance song. Her fans came to expect both from her, and she gave them both, album after album.

These early years were years of hard work. She performed at concerts, at weddings, and on television, and she built a following one listener at a time. A singer who dances must work harder than one who only sings, because she must rehearse her movements, her voice, and her stagecraft all at once. Myriam did that work, and her shows became known for their energy, for the way she moved, and for the way her audience danced along. She was not a singer who stood still. She was a performer who filled the stage.

By the mid-2000s, she was no longer a newcomer. She had albums, she had hits, and she had a growing audience in Lebanon and in the wider Arab world. The next step was to make the songs and the shows that would define her, and those were on their way.

Moukanoh Wein, Aman, and the Dance That Made Her Queen

The songs that made Myriam Fares a star are now classics of Lebanese pop. Moukanoh Wein, which means where is his place, became one of her best-known hits, and it showed her gift for a song that is both playful and danceable. The song was played on the radio, at parties, and at weddings, and it made her name known to people across the Arab world. It was a song that people could dance to, and a song they could sing along to, and that combination made it last.

Aman, another of her defining songs, became a favourite, and it is still one of the songs most linked with her name. It is a song about safety and love, sung with a warmth that makes it feel personal, and it showed that Myriam could sing a tender song as well as a fast one. Her fans loved that range, because it showed that she was not only a dancer. She was a singer with a heart, and her songs spoke to that heart.

Other songs followed, including Halla Halla and Goumi, and each one added to her reputation as a queen of the stage. Her albums sold, her concerts filled halls, and her name became a byword for Lebanese pop. She performed in Lebanon, in the Gulf, in Egypt, and in Arab communities in Europe and the Americas, and her audiences were made up of people who had grown up with her songs and who danced to them, word for word.

These were the peak years of her career, and they taught her what it means to be a star. A star must make new music, must perform, must stay in the public eye, and must keep the trust of an audience that has many choices. Myriam did all of that, and she did it without losing her energy or her joy. She stayed a dancer and a singer, and her audience stayed with her because they knew what she stood for.

The title queen of the stage was given by her fans, because of the way she performed, because of her dance, and because her concerts felt like royal occasions, full of colour, movement, and celebration. She accepted the title with pride, and she worked to live up to it, show after show, year after year.

The World Cup, Tukoh Taka, and a Stage the World Watched

One of the most important moments in Myriam Fares’ career came in 2022, when she performed at the FIFA World Cup in Qatar. She sang Tukoh Taka, the official fan festival song of the World Cup, together with the American rapper Nicki Minaj and the Colombian singer Maluma. It was a moment that took her from the Arab world to the world stage, and it showed that a Lebanese singer could stand beside global stars and be heard by millions.

The song was a celebration, with Arabic, English, and Spanish words, and Myriam’s part brought the Arabic sound to a global audience. She sang and danced in the video, and her energy was clear even beside two of the biggest names in world music. The performance was watched around the world, and it introduced her to listeners who had never heard Lebanese pop before. For a girl from Kfar Shlal, it was a remarkable journey, from a mountain village to the biggest sporting event in the world.

The World Cup moment also brought new attention to her career. Her older songs were streamed more, her videos were watched more, and her name appeared in news stories across the world. She handled that attention with grace, and she spoke about her pride in representing Lebanon and the Arab world on a global stage. She did not forget where she came from, and she carried Kfar Shlal with her to Qatar, in her voice and in her dance.

She also continued to perform across the Arab world, in Lebanon, in the Gulf, in Egypt, and in other countries, and her shows remained known for their energy. A Myriam Fares concert was not a quiet night. It was a celebration, a night of music, dance, and joy, and her audience came to dance. She gave them that, and they gave her their love in return.

Through these years, her voice remained her greatest gift. It did not lose its strength, and it did not lose its warmth. She took care of it, she performed with discipline, and she chose her concerts with care. A singer who dances must protect her voice even more than one who only sings, because dancing takes breath, and Myriam learned to balance both, which is why she could keep performing at a high level for more than twenty years.

Marriage, Motherhood, and the Woman Behind the Dancer

Myriam Fares’ private life has been a subject of public interest, but she has tried to keep it as private as she can. She married Danny Mitri, a businessman, in 2014, and the couple had two sons, Jayden and Dave. For a time, her family life seemed settled, and her fans were happy to see the queen of the stage living the love she sang about. She spoke of her sons with warmth, and she tried to protect them from the public eye, keeping their lives away from cameras and headlines.

Motherhood changed her life, and it changed her music. A singer who becomes a mother sings differently, and Myriam’s later songs carry a feeling of warmth and responsibility that her early songs did not have. She spoke about the joy of her children, and about the challenge of balancing a demanding career with raising a family. That balance is hard for any working mother, and harder still for a performer who travels and dances. Myriam managed it by planning carefully, by bringing her family with her when she could, and by accepting that she could not do everything at once.

She has also faced hard times in her career, as every long career brings. Not every song becomes a hit, not every album is received the same way, and the public’s taste changes. A pop singer can find that younger listeners want newer sounds, and that radio plays fewer of her songs. Myriam faced that shift, and she answered it by staying true to her sound while adding new touches, by working with younger producers, and by trusting that her loyal audience would stay. That trust was rewarded, and her fans stayed with her.

She has also faced criticism, as many female performers do, about her dance, her clothes, and her style. She has answered that criticism by staying herself, by dancing with pride, and by refusing to hide who she is. That strength earned her respect, because a woman who performs boldly is not always welcomed, and Myriam chose to perform boldly anyway. Her fans loved her for that courage, and they defended her when she was criticised.

Through the ups and downs of her private life, her music remained her anchor. She kept recording, kept performing, and kept dancing, even when life was hard. That is a difficult thing to do, and it takes strength. A performer who dances while her own heart is hurting must find a way to be honest without falling apart, and Myriam found that way, song after song.

The Dancer’s Discipline: Training a Body for the Stage

Myriam Fares is a singer who dances, and that simple fact explains much of her career. She trained in ballet as a young woman, and she learned the discipline that dance demands: early mornings, sore muscles, endless repetition, and a body that must be cared for like an instrument. A singer can rest her voice, but a dancer must keep moving, and Myriam kept moving, year after year, which is why she could still dance at the World Cup in 2022, nearly twenty years after her first album.

Her dance style is a mix. She uses Lebanese dabke steps, with their stomping feet and joined hands, and she mixes them with modern pop dance, with spins, with floor work, and with the sharp movements of a music video. That mix is her own, and it makes her shows different from other Arab singers, who mostly stand still. When Myriam performs, the stage is alive, and the audience watches her body as much as they listen to her voice. That watching is part of the show, and she knows it.

Rehearsals are the hidden part of her work. A concert that looks effortless takes weeks of practice, with choreographers, dancers, and musicians working together until every step is timed to the music. Myriam leads those rehearsals, and she is known for being demanding, for asking her dancers to repeat a step until it is right. That demanding is not cruelty. It is respect for the audience, because a show that is rehearsed well feels joyful, and a show that is not rehearsed feels messy. Her fans see the joy, and they do not see the work behind it, but the work is there.

Her body has paid a price for that work, as any dancer’s body does. She has spoken about tiredness, about injuries, and about the need to rest, and she has learned to pace herself, to choose her concerts, and to protect her knees, her back, and her voice. That pacing is a skill that young performers must learn, because a dancer who does not rest will not dance for long. Myriam has danced for more than twenty years, and that is proof that she learned the lesson.

The dance is also what makes her World Cup performance make sense. When she sang Tukoh Taka beside Nicki Minaj and Maluma, she did not only sing. She danced, and her dance carried the Arabic sound into a global picture. A singer who only stands and sings can be ignored on a world stage, but a dancer cannot be ignored, because movement catches the eye. Myriam’s movement caught the world’s eye, and that is why her World Cup moment worked.

The Queen in Her Later Years

Time has been generous to Myriam Fares, and she has been generous with time. In her forties she still takes the stage with the same energy she had in her twenties, and audiences still rise when Ana Wel Shoq begins. Her newer songs sit beside the old ones in her concerts, and the crowd dances to both, because a joyful rhythm does not age. She has learned to choose her appearances, to perform where she is loved, and to leave the stage while the applause is still loud, a skill that many stars never learn.

Kfar Shlal is still home in her heart. She returns there, she speaks of the village with warmth, and her work still carries the mountain air of the place where she grew up. That loyalty matters to her fans, because a star who forgets her village loses something, and Myriam has not lost it. Her songs sound Lebanese because she is Lebanese, and that honesty is what makes them travel. A listener in Dubai or in Paris hears a voice that belongs somewhere, and that belonging is attractive.

What she leaves behind is already visible. Young Lebanese performers look at Myriam and see that they can sing and dance at once, that they can be bold, and that they can be loved for it. She did not only make hits. She made a model for how to perform with your whole body, and that model is now used by others. A hit fades, but a model endures, and Myriam’s model is still in use.

Her place in Lebanese music is secure, not because of one song, but because of more than twenty years of work. She sang and danced through change, through the rise of streaming, and through the doubts of critics, and she is still performing. When the lights go down and the first notes of Nadini begin, the room knows who is on stage. It is the queen of the stage, and her crown has not slipped.

My Take:

I think Myriam Fares is a performer who reminds me that music is not only for listening. It is for moving, for dancing, for feeling joy in your body. I have watched her perform, and I have seen how she fills a stage, how she dances while she sings, and how her audience dances with her. That is a rare gift, because many singers can sing, and many dancers can dance, but few can do both at once, with power and with grace. Myriam can, and I admire her for it.

What I admire most about her is her discipline. Dance is hard work, and singing while dancing is harder still. It asks for breath, for strength, for practice, and for a body that is trained like an athlete’s. Myriam trained that way, and she kept training, year after year, which is why she could still perform at the World Cup in 2022, nearly twenty years after her first album. I respect that discipline, because it is easy to praise a singer for talent, but talent without discipline fades. Myriam’s discipline kept her going, and her audience could see it in every show.

I also think about Kfar Shlal, and about what it means to be from a mountain village and to end up on the world stage. A girl from a quiet place, who loved to dance at home, became a singer who performed at the FIFA World Cup beside Nicki Minaj and Maluma. That is a remarkable journey, and it tells young people that where you start does not decide where you finish. She started with a love for dance, and she built a career from that, and I find that hopeful. It tells me that a dream, worked at with patience, can take you further than you imagine.

Her World Cup song, Tukoh Taka, interests me, because it was a moment when Lebanese music stood on a global stage. I liked that she did not hide her Arabic sound. She sang in Arabic, she danced in her own way, and she stood beside global stars without losing herself. That is brave, because the easy choice would have been to copy a Western sound and hope it worked. She kept her own sound, and the world heard it. I think that is a lesson for any artist: your own voice, your own place, and your own language are not limits. They are the things that make you different, and difference is what people remember.

I want to be honest about something I find less strong in her career. Her style has stayed very close to dance pop, and her albums can sound alike to a listener who hears them all at once. The tempos stay fast, the themes stay close to love and celebration, and the sound does not change much from one album to the next. I understand why she did it, because her audience loves that sound, and changing it would be a risk. But I also think a few more quiet songs, a few songs that stepped outside the dance world, would have shown us another side of her. A singer who only sings for dancing can become a joyful voice in a narrow room, and I would have liked to hear her step into a quieter room now and then.

That said, I do not think the repetition is a fault in the way some critics might say. Joy is a wide subject, and Myriam finds different corners of it in each song. One song is about longing, another is about celebration, another is about love. Those are different feelings, and she sings them differently, even if the style stays close. I think a listener who pays attention will hear the differences, and I think her fans do pay attention, because they dance to her songs at weddings, and they know which song is which.

Her life as a mother makes me think about the balance between fame and family. She married, she had two sons, and she kept performing while raising them. That is hard for any working mother, and harder still for a dancer who travels. I admire the way she managed it, by planning, by bringing her family with her, and by accepting that she could not do everything at once. She did not hide the difficulty, and she did not pretend it was easy. She worked, she loved her children, and she kept dancing. That is a brave choice, and I respect it.

I also think about the criticism she has faced for her dance and her style. A woman who dances boldly is not always welcomed, and Myriam has been criticised for it. I respect her for not hiding, for dancing with pride, and for refusing to make herself smaller to please her critics. That strength is important, because young women who watch her learn that they can be bold, that they can move, and that they do not have to apologise for their joy. I think that is one of the best things about her career.

When I compare her with other Lebanese singers, I see that her strength is not poetry or power. Other singers are known for classical songs, for strong folk voices, for gentle ballads. Myriam is known for movement, for energy, and for a stage that feels alive. I think that is a harder strength to build, because a ballad can be sung standing still, but a dance song must be lived in the body, and it takes a performer who is willing to give everything on stage. Myriam gives everything, and her audience can feel it.

I think about the younger performers who watch her and think, if she can dance and sing, I can dance and sing too. That is a powerful message, and it is one of the best things about her career. She did not only make songs. She made a path for performers who want to move, who want to be bold, and who want to build a career on joy. I hope she knows how many young artists she has helped by being herself, and I hope she keeps being herself, because the world needs more performers like her.

If I had to choose one song to explain Myriam Fares to someone who had never heard Lebanese pop, I would choose Ana Wel Shoq, because it holds everything she does best in one place. It is romantic, it is danceable, and it is sung with a voice that makes the listener want to move. I would tell that person to listen to it loudly, to feel the rhythm, and to notice how the song makes them smile. That smile is the point of her music, and Myriam understands it.

In the end, I think Myriam Fares’ story teaches a simple lesson that I want to remember. You do not have to be quiet to be respected. You can be bold, you can dance, you can sing with joy, and the world will listen. Myriam did that, and her songs are still played at weddings, still danced to, and still loved across the Arab world. A career built on movement and joy, sung with a voice like hers, is a career that earns its place, and I am glad her place is secure.

Her dance training is something I keep thinking about, because it explains her longevity in a way that talent alone does not. A singer can have a great voice and still fade, but a dancer who trains every day builds a body that lasts, and a habit of work that lasts longer. Myriam trained in ballet, she rehearsed for weeks before a show, and she kept that discipline for twenty years. I think that discipline is the real secret of her career, more than any single song, because it is what allowed her to still dance at the World Cup in 2022, when many singers of her generation had already slowed down.

The World Cup moment is one I return to often. She stood beside Nicki Minaj and Maluma, two of the biggest names in world music, and she did not disappear. She sang in Arabic, she danced in her own way, and she made the Arabic sound part of a global song. That is brave, because the easy choice would have been to copy a Western style and hope to fit in. She kept her own style, and the world saw it. I think that moment mattered for Lebanon, and for the Arab world, because it showed that an Arab singer could stand on the world’s biggest stage and be herself.

Her sons, Jayden and Dave, are another part of her story that stays with me. She married, she had children, and she kept dancing while raising them. That is hard for any mother, and harder still for a dancer, whose body is her work. I admire the way she kept going, and I think her fans saw that and respected it. A mother who dances is a mother who shows her children that joy and work can live together, and Myriam showed that, year after year.

If a young performer asked me what to learn from Myriam Fares, I would say three things. First, train your body, because a performer who trains lasts. Second, dance your own dance, because copying others will not make you memorable. Third, be joyful, because joy is a serious art, and it takes work to make a room dance. Myriam did all three, and her career is the proof that they work. She is still here, still dancing, still the queen of the stage, and that is a lesson worth remembering.

Tukoh Taka is something I think about often when I think about Myriam Fares, because it shows what a Lebanese singer can do on the world’s biggest stage. A World Cup song is heard by billions of people, and Myriam was there, dancing and singing, in a song with Nicki Minaj and Maluma. That is a moment that few Arab singers ever reach, and she reached it by being herself, by dancing the way she dances, by singing with the energy that made her famous in Lebanon. I think that night in Qatar showed the world what Lebanon can give, and I am proud of her for it, because she carried her country onto a stage where the whole world was watching.

Her dance is another part of her story that stays with me. A singer who dances must train her body the way an athlete trains, and Myriam did that, year after year, so that she could move for an hour without stopping. That discipline is invisible to the audience, who only see the joy, but it is real, and it is hard. I admire her for it, because it shows that her concerts are not accidents. They are the result of work, of practice, and of a body that has been trained to dance while it sings. That is a rare skill, and it is why her shows feel so alive.

Her sons, Jayden and Dave, are another part of her story that stays with me. She married, she had children, and she kept performing while raising them. That is hard for any mother, and harder still for a singer who dances for an hour on stage. I admire the way she kept going, and I think her fans saw that and respected it. A mother who dances is a mother who shows her children that work and love can live together, and Myriam showed that, year after year.

I also think about Kfar Shlal, and about what it means to carry a small village onto the world’s stages. A girl from a quiet place, who loved to dance and to sing, became a woman whose voice was heard at the World Cup. That journey tells young people that where you start does not decide where you finish. She started with a love for music, and she built a career from that, with work and with discipline, and I find that hopeful. It tells me that a dream, worked at with patience, can take you further than you imagine.

Frequently Asked Questions

Where was Myriam Fares born?

Myriam Fares was born on 3 May 1983 in Kfar Shlal, a village in the Chouf District of Mount Lebanon. She grew up in the mountains, where she first learned to love singing and dancing.

How did Myriam Fares become famous?

She became famous by winning first prize in the Lebanese song category on Studio El Fan in 2003. Her first album, Myriam, followed the same year, and its song Ana Wel Shoq became a hit.

What are Myriam Fares’ most famous songs?

Her most famous songs include Ana Wel Shoq, Nadini, Moukanoh Wein, Aman, and Goumi. Ana Wel Shoq is the song most often linked with her name, and it is still danced to at weddings.

Did Myriam Fares perform at the World Cup?

Yes, she sang Tukoh Taka, the official fan festival song of the 2022 FIFA World Cup in Qatar, together with Nicki Minaj and Maluma. The song brought her music to a global audience.

Why is Myriam Fares called the queen of the stage?

She earned the title because her concerts are known for their energy, dance, and celebration. She sings and dances at the same time, and her shows fill the stage with movement in a way few other Arab singers match.

Is Myriam Fares married with children?

Yes, she married Danny Mitri in 2014, and they have two sons, Jayden and Dave. She has spoken about balancing her career as a performer with her life as a mother.