Pigeon Opinion Featuring an Interview with Magdi Aboul-Kheir

Interview with Magdi Aboul-Kheir

(^)> Your musical influences span from baroque to trance. How do you navigate such a wide range of styles in your compositions?

With openness, curiosity, and a love of music. I think many music lovers can relate to this: that in every era and every genre, there has been and still is music that fascinates and moves them. And today, when you write music, you can draw inspiration from everything that came before us and everything that exists now—in all its diversity.

(^)> You’re classically trained as a pianist. How does that foundation shape the way you write music today?

I certainly hope not too much! For one thing, I’m not a particularly good pianist. For another, it’s limiting to think about music too much from the perspective of a single instrument. I very much hope that my music comes from my soul and my mind—not from the limited ability of my fingers.

(^)> You’ve said you’re guided as much by emotion as by craft. How do those two elements interact when you’re composing?

Emotions often set the direction, but craftsmanship helps—and is essential—to bring them to life. So that they find the expression I have in mind and in heart.

(^)> Melody seems to be at the heart of everything you do. What makes a melody feel truly meaningful to you?

When I feel that a melody sounds so natural and coherent as if it had always existed—and I had simply discovered and written it down.

(^)> Your work can move from orchestral arrangements to retro synthesizers. How do you decide which palette a piece needs?

Sometimes the sonic image is clearly defined in detail from the very beginning, but at other times a composition—the melody and the harmonies—first has to find its colors. The process can unfold in very different ways: the starting point might be an abstract idea in my mind, an aesthetic or sensory impulse from outside, but also traditional writing with pencil and manuscript paper—or an improvisation at the piano.

(^)> Do you approach writing differently depending on the genre, or is your process essentially the same across styles?

Of course, the genre plays a role. As I said, the compositional process can unfold in very different ways. Sometimes it flows almost effortlessly—so to speak, in a horizontal direction—without initially dwelling too much on ideas of arrangement. But when a piece becomes, for example, orchestral, I tend to think more vertically from the outset, focusing on the individual voices.

(^)> There’s often a tension between complexity and accessibility in music. How do you strike that balance in your work?

That is a great challenge and one of the most difficult tasks. You have to succeed in finding the right expression for an idea. Sometimes that can be complexity, which creates its very appeal—sometimes simplicity, to get straight to the point. Composing means putting things together, and one is often tempted to keep adding more ideas and embellishing the music; that can be appealing and can define the quality of a piece. At the same time, there is the danger of losing sight of the core, the essence of a piece. With the pieces of The Piano Has Been Dreaming, my aim was to distill that essence. A piece was not finished when nothing more could be added, but when nothing more could be taken away—like in sculpture. This is closely tied to the question of how simple a piece can be without becoming banal, but instead, on the contrary, remaining essential.

(^)> As someone who listens to everything from metal to string quartets, how do those contrasts influence your creative voice?

As a composer, you don’t create out of a vacuum, and I believe that everything I’ve ever heard in my life has nourished me, from Vivaldi to Metallica, from Vangelis to Morricone —and that’s what I draw from. Not by copying, but because it has shaped my vocabulary. It’s also enjoyable to mix genres, to cross boundaries, and, to stay with the image of vocabulary, to express oneself in several musical languages. And yet, somehow, it still becomes your own language.

(^)> When you sit down to compose, do you begin with a clear idea, or do you prefer to discover the piece as you go?

Both happen—and everything in between. Sometimes there is a clear idea and an almost finished piece in my head; the realization then feels almost like painting by numbers. And sometimes there’s only a spark, a scribbled sketch, a starting point—and from that, something develops in the process of writing and even takes on a momentum of its own.

(^)> How important is storytelling or narrative in your music, even when it’s purely instrumental?

A musical narrative and considerations of form are important to me. Although, or perhaps also because, I use no words. And there are certainly themes—and above all moods and emotions—that I want to express and bring to life. Yet, on the other hand, music is, after all, an abstract art form. And every listener is free to create their own story.

(^)> Living in Germany, do you feel your environment has influenced your musical perspective in any way?

It’s hard to say, because music is limitless. But the cultural environment in which you grow up and live certainly shapes you. What likely played a role for me is that I had access to good music education, that there are excellent orchestras in Germany, and, especially in the classical world, a rich musical culture. And of course, there are German composers and bands that influenced me—from Bach to Tangerine Dream, so to speak—but also countless other musicians from all over the world.

(^)> What role do technology and modern production tools play in your creative process?

As I mentioned earlier, even pencil and manuscript paper play a role. Because I love sketching on a sheet, the deliberate act of writing down a single note. Technique is part of the craft and helps with the realization—and of course, the possibilities are immense. However, I leave AI out of my music; then it would no longer be authentic.

(^)> For listeners discovering your music for the first time, what do you hope they connect with most?

That they can connect emotionally with my music. That it makes something within them resonate. That it touches them. That they even have fun. Phew, I hope that doesn’t sound presumptuous.

(^)> Is there a particular piece or moment in your work that best represents your artistic identity right now?

It’s hard for me to single out a piece or an album. I think it’s the overall picture—and my melodies, I hope.

(^)> Looking ahead, how do you see your sound evolving across genres and influences?

I’m looking forward to expanding my palette and learning more. The next albums focus on unabashedly romantic music for orchestra and chamber music, but I’m also working on retro-electro tracks and trying to write 80s-style synth earworms.

(•)> That's all, Folks! Check out Magdi Aboul-Kheir on the Pigeon Opinion Playlist