Abdullah Miniawy is a multiple creature. It produces and writes in a form that looks more like poetry than to the song, it sounds traditional tools in a contemporary key and uses languages as sound portals through which to reach geographically distant public. We interviewed him on the occasion of his participation in the Lost 2025, the Festival of Electronic Art and Music to be held in July at the Masone Labyrinth for its fourth edition.
The Egyptian artist is a river full of stimuli: we have talked about the need to find some form of spirituality as an alternative way to capitalist individualism, what it means to live in the West after spending twenty years to chase the freedom of expression and his relationship with the Arabic language.
“I am interested in the origin of things,” Abdullah tells us from his apartment in Paris. «I also published a poem dedicated to the first letter pronounced in human history. I will bring all new materials to the Lost, fresh, lyric sounds that in turn want to investigate the origin of the language, of sound ».
Abdullah Miniawy – Peacock Dreams أashiحْ█lude ا اHIطPIّ³ | Full Album █ كامught
How is your life going?
I must say that it is going well right now, I am immersed in art. I have a new love, so I'm happy. I try to disconnect myself from the social apps because they are terrible and I try to make my contribution to the world, which for now is music. I don't know what will happen later, but for now I am trying to write ideas, to collect moments and then when I sit down, I produce them. I am also waiting for my French nationality because I have the residence here. On a personal level I am happy, I'm fine. I have a nice apartment in Paris near Montmartre.
How long have you been in Paris?
I left Egypt first to go to Munich and then I came to Paris. After making my first performance in France, I felt so well welcomed. I slowly set myself in the city, I integrated, I understood their codes, I understood people, the rhythm, and now I have my own pace. I've been here for almost ten years now.
Do you still feel linked to Egypt?
You know, we were born with the appropriate complex. We do not have the same quality of life, we do not have the same rights, the same mobility, we do not have resources, theaters, freedom. Sometimes I close your eyes and try to be nostalgic. I grew up with this identity chaos because I was born in Saudi Arabia, I spent my life thinking about Egypt as a romantic place, but it was not as romantic as I imagined it. When I arrived there, the revolution was the only romantic thing that was there. I am proud of this movement because for me politics is now outside of my geography. Even talking is political, confrontation as we are doing is so important to understand how things must be done.
Is your choice to be a musician a rarity in Egypt or is it something common?
It is a super personal choice because there is no bigger and more welcoming scene, musically speaking. There are twenty, thirty artists more interested in experimenting and having an original sound. Now there is the new post-revolution phase, there is trap music, the whole world uses the Autoune, but my family is conservative, they pray five times a day. I learned the music inside, I started learning the Koran, then I had to break the rules and create my style, which became a sort of folk adapted to a certain reality.
It is not such a common thing to make music in Egypt because the family is very present and looks for the best life model for you. They want you to police officer, I first made a police academy. They want you engineer, doctor so you can help the family. It was such a crazy thing to tell mine that I was leaving the police academy to become an artist. But since I was sixteen I have always shared what I had inside and this is a quality for which I am very grateful.
Where did you take inspiration when you were a kid? Of course, there was already the internet, but I don't know how much it was widespread by you. You entrusted you to your friends, did you have a reference place?
I studied at home in Saudi Arabia and it was a difficult experience, I could not deal with others. But when I think about it, I feel lucky to have lived in isolation, it has been super spiritual and has created these voices within me who are always in dialogue with my art.
They are '94, we are this generation between the internet and non-internet, we have gone from the boxes to the DVDs to the Internet. And when the network came I found my passion. I started writing when I was eight thanks to my father who transmitted my passion for classic Arabic and for me it was the first form of art. Then I started to disassemble the computers, I wanted to understand what this monster that comes home and, through a window, it shows you reality. I took the screwdriver to open the computer, I open every single piece. Then came the music when I was twelve, I started with the first smartphone and music software like Mixcraft.
I started sharing my things through MySpace and once I received support from a collective called Arab League, then I went to Cairo during the revolution and I saw that my texts were going everywhere, I started being aware of what I was doing. My inspiration was, as for everyone, first of all pop music and slowly I approached more complex things. Then I discovered sufi music while I was studying philosophy, which inspired me a lot. My father's library was so important for me because he created a strong relationship with religion and so I started to discover the culture behind it. For me it was super important to know the rules to be able to break them.
What is your relationship with folk music? Is it a genre you feel you belong? You also produced a piece of an Italian artist, the Niña, who is crazy in recovering regional dialects and ancient tools.
The piece is Sanghe And I composed it entirely. I have a lot of respect for the Niña and for what he is doing, for how he has transformed his image.
For me folk has a very wide definition. To do this, you need to absorb knowledge, you have to come from where the origins of this sound come from. For me it is like pre-Islamic poetry, it is difficult to find because it is not very documented, you have to travel to Saudi Arabia to find it, but the knowledge is within me.
It is something you have in the blood, it is difficult to analyze, but I'm trying to find the words to bring it out. The content is another important part of folk, but my content is not folk, it is universal, it is more spiritual, it is a flirtation with the individualism with which I live in Europe. All these cell phones are frustrated, modern life, Instagram. In my album 'Nigma Enigma', the one before the last 'Peacock Dreams' which comes out on May 23, strongly criticized all these things.
When you describe your music, use three keywords: freedom, religion and revolution. What is the connection between these three voices?
There are some slogans that we can bring to life consciously or unconsciously, and this slogan was born when I was sixteen, I always kept it because it is my day, it is my journey through freedom of expression, also to criticize religion. This is actually my day in three words, it is exactly what happened, it is exactly how I came out of a village near Faiyum. After a while, people are surprised to use the same words. But this was the heart of my revolution. After these years in Europe I was the first to promote atheism, to escape from what they are, from religion.
At the beginning you will find a platform to speak freely and then you wonder what you are doing here. Once I was playing in Vienna and I met a twenty -three year old girl, with hijab, I was curious to know how she came to the concert, I started talking and I discovered that she was following Hassan – the Sabbah, a sufi journey, and found a sort of freedom inside my songs. Speaking with her, I realized that there was a community inside a community, there was not only her. Even our reality today has no longer a creed, everything concerns man, materialism and this is the new religion. But this is not life, then you get to fifty, sixty years old and think: “What did I do?”. I had this religious heritage and I lost it completely.
Capitalism has become the central religion of the world and I cannot accept it, it is something I would like to discuss without imposing an idea. Our words are not forever, if you call me tomorrow maybe I will have another perspective because nothing is fixed and nothing is eternal.
How do you insert religion in your art, while it is so important for you?
I take some inspirations, some words. When I make music or art within in another mental space and for me this is the highest form of prayer. Sometimes I close your eyes and start seeing things, but they are not necessarily religious. Maybe I see them in the classic Arabic language which is the most courtly form of Arabic. For this reason I also have a great fanbase in the Middle East because from Iraq, Egypt, Algeria listen to me and understand me, I use a language close to the Koran, but it is also a way to enter the heart of this culture.
I am inspired by Tanakh, Torah, Christianity, Islam and I think we should be able to create a sort of spiritual unity, of community. For example, I was in a church in Venice a few days ago and I was struck by the fact that only the priest spoke while the people listened to. It is such a simple act, I don't care what it was saying, to which we are no longer used to. At one point people kissed, it was strange to hear a stranger who wants to kiss you, but it was beautiful.
Usually it is the moment when the priest proclaims peace. The people who know each other kiss, those who do not know each other give their hand.
It was beautiful for me, for this reason religion has a strong value for me, even if we are growing with all this individualistic behavior around.
If you find someone attractive on the street and look at the phone it means you no longer know how to work. The Church has become more open and for me there is something inside. I don't like dogma, I had problems with politics, but all these restrictions prompted me to make better and continue this path. At one point I had the temptation to give up everything because it was too difficult, I felt attacked by the institutions, by my family.
How is the music scene today in Egypt and Saudi Arabia?
In Saudi Arabia there is turmoil, it goes fast and I am impressed with how much they have succeeded in a few years to correct the image and work artistically and openly on many things. It's something I appreciate. I appreciate when people try to change things because we cannot be guilty for our history. A German person cannot be guilty for the Nazi past of his nation. Now they have asked me to play at the Biennale in Saudi Arabia and are choosing the heaviest text I have, an anti-religious text. My profile has not passed to national security, but they asked me to play at the Biennale. It is curious.
In Egypt I am still connected to the scene because Egypt will always be a place where I can share my art. Fans write me. They are part of a great movement started in 2011.
It will be your first experience at the Lost Festival. I think you may really like it because you share that mystical vibe that is also in your music. Will you bring a special project, something specific?
Yes, I bring a new project. It's called “The Evens, Rahma” and investigates the origin of sound and wind. I work a lot with the wind instruments and I involved an Indian flutist. When the Lost Festival team called me, I immediately focused on this idea and tried to present it in the best way. They are all new materials, fresh sounds, lyrics that in turn want to investigate the origin of things, language, sound. I also published a poem dedicated to the first letter pronounced in human history. Since then I have been deepening this idea of the origin of things. I only have two dates this year in Italy, the Lost Music Festival and the Venice Biennale curated by Caterina Barbieri. But they are two big dates.
