Name: Marie Awadis
Nationality: Lebanese, Germany-based
Occupation: Composer, pianist
Current release: Marie Awadis's Études Mélodiques is out via Deutsche Grammophon.
Recommendations:
1. Philip Glass – Words Without Music: This autobiography offers inspiring insights into the life and creative journey of one of the most influential composers of our time.
2. Fauré: Requiem / Ravel: Pavane pour une infante défunte: These timeless classical pieces are emotionally powerful, with Fauré’s serene Requiem and Ravel’s haunting Pavane being essential listening.

If you enjoyed this Marie Awadis interview and would like to know more about her music, visit her official homepage. She is also on Instagram, Facebook, and tiktok.



Where does the impulse to create something come from for you? What role do often-quoted sources of inspiration like dreams, other forms of art, personal relationships, politics, etc., play?

When I first started composing, I felt an urge to connect through music other than playing myself. I began by expressing my own emotions. Composing became a way for me to release these feelings, knowing that, as human beings, we all share similar emotional experiences, even if the situations differ—or sometimes, they are the same.

As I expand my compositional world and move beyond my personal emotions, I start to find space to express more universal and cultural aspects.

I believe artists have the power to change the world with their voice, and it’s important to embrace that opportunity.

For you to get started, do there need to be concrete ideas, or what some have called a 'visualisation' of the finished work? What does the balance between planning and chance look like for you?

It depends on my mood, circumstances, and what inspires me at that moment. I usually don’t plan much; I try to go with the flow and see what works best for that particular moment.

If I’m working on a solo piano piece, I often just sit down and play, letting the music come naturally. Sometimes, an improvisation becomes a full piece with a few adjustments. Other times, I start with a sketch of an idea and then develop it into something complete. For example, my album Études Mélodiques began as sketches that were later expanded.

However, when I’m composing for strings or a choir, I tend to form the overall idea in my mind first— imagining the atmosphere, intensity, and layers, though the specific notes and harmonies come later as I write or work at the piano.

Is there a preparation phase for your process? Do you require your tools to be laid out in a particular way? For example, do you need to do 'research' or create 'early versions'?

When it comes to the piano, the process is more intuitive, but I do go back to listen to other composers for inspiration.

When composing for other instruments, I’m more inclined to do research beforehand—especially to understand the technical possibilities, since I don’t play those instruments. This research phase helps guide the ideas I have in mind.

If I get stuck, I trust that there’s always a way forward, so I keep on searching until I get the idea that I have in my mind.

Do you have certain rituals to get you into the right mindset for creating? What role do certain foods, stimulants like coffee, lighting, scents, exercise, or reading poetry play?

The mindset is crucial. Deciding to sit down regularly to practice or compose is key. For that I need order in my studio, or else the first thing I do is creating order.

To maintain inspiration, I believe in daily self-cultivation—physically through exercise or yoga, mentally through reading and learning, and spiritually through meditation, walking in nature. These 3 aspects should grow together in order to have a healthy balance for creation.

What do you start with? When you come up with a musical idea, have you created the idea, or have you discovered it?

I see myself more like a channel through which creativity flows, rather than its source.

We are shaped by our past experiences, and whatever we create is a continuation of what already exists. Everything is out there—we just catch the ideas and bring them into the world with our own voice. For instance, when I finish composing a piece, I still need to learn it as if it were new, until I know it by heart.

My process is a blend of intuition, discovering the source, and then refining it.


Marie Awadis Interview Image by Linda Rosa Saal

Many writers have claimed that certain aspects of their narrative are out of their hands once they enter the process. Do you like to maintain strict control, or do you follow where things lead you?

I have friends who are very strict about structure and symmetry in music, and I admire that approach. I’ve tried to compose that way, but it doesn’t work for me.

I feel most natural when I let go and create without judgment (although sometimes that is difficult). I refine the details and develop the idea after the initial burst of creativity.

Often, new ideas and alternative paths open up during the process. Does this happen to you, and how do you deal with it? What do you do with these ideas?

It happens, and I try to go with the flow. I aim to keep certain elements concrete but allow space for flexibility.

While composing, I grow, and my perspective or approach may shift due to new inspirations from music I’ve heard, books I’ve read, or even a walk in nature.

Sometimes, it’s beneficial not to be too attached to certain ideas.

How would you describe the creative state for you personally? Is there an element of spirituality in what you do?

During the creative process, I constantly remind myself: 'Don’t judge.' Composing is about letting go and allowing whatever emerges to take shape.

Later, I evaluate whether certain parts need improvement or further development. This phase can be challenging, but it’s a vital part of learning about myself and my creative process. Ultimately, it’s about accepting the new work I’ve created and letting people experience it in their own way.

Once a piece is finished, how important is it for you to let it lie and evaluate it later on? How much refinement do you allow until you're satisfied?

It depends on the piece and how long I’ve worked on it. For me, a piece can always be improved. So, unless I set a limit, there’s no end.

Eventually, I decide it’s time to let go—it no longer belongs to me but to the world. After that, I won’t listen to the recording unless necessary.

In the studio, how important is the actual performance, especially in an age where so much can be "fixed in post"?

There’s always room for post-production tweaks, but the goal is to capture the best possible performance in the moment. As a pianist, I play on different instruments in various environments, so preparation is essential to minimize external factors and ensure I can enjoy the process.

Studio work captures a specific moment in time, and those moments can be chosen in order to achieve a certain aspect of perfection. while playing a concert is about living in the moment and sharing it with the audience.

Each performance is unique. In the studio, once a recording is made, it captures a single moment, which can still be experienced in different ways by the listener. However, it’s no longer an exchange between the performer and the audience; it becomes a separate, individual experience for the listener.


Marie Awadis Interview Image by Linda Rosa Saal

Even recording a solo song is a collaborative process. How important is trust between participants, and how does it contribute to creating a great song?

Trust is crucial. The first meeting with the sound engineer, the room, the piano—all of it matters. You might have the best studio and engineer, but if the chemistry isn’t there, it will affect the process.

A professional artist can still do the work, but the energy is better when there’s a smooth, joyful collaboration.

What's your take on the role of production, including mixing and mastering? In terms of what they contribute to a song, what is the balance between the composition and the arrangement?

Being well-prepared before recording is key. The most authentic recordings come from solid preparation. Mixing and mastering are important for enhancing the production, especially with modern technology like Dolby Atmos and advanced mixing gear. Etc …

However, the music itself should stand on its own—these tools should enhance it, not hide flaws.

After finishing a piece or album and releasing it into the world, there can be a sense of emptiness. Can you relate to this, and how do you return to the creative state afterward?

Yes, endings are always challenging. Whether it's completing a piece, finishing a concert tour, or wrapping up a project, there’s often a sense of emptiness and loss.

However, I've learned that embracing this sense of closure opens up space for new opportunities. After completing a project, I take time to revisit my notes, sketches, and ideas to explore new directions.

Sometimes, I dive into entirely new concepts or projects to reignite my creativity and continue evolving.

Music is a language, but like any language, it can lead to misunderstandings. Have your works ever been misunderstood, and how do you deal with that?

When I create music, it’s based on my personal experience—it’s my way of expressing things that can’t be put into words.

But it doesn’t mean others will have the same experience. I want to give listeners the freedom to interpret the music in their own way, to create their own journey. I don’t mind if their experience is different from mine, as long as they connect with it.

Creativity can manifest in many areas of life. Do you feel that writing music is inherently different from something like making a great cup of coffee? What do you express through music that you wouldn't in more mundane tasks?

Being present and enjoying every moment is important, whether it’s making coffee or composing. But through music, I aim to connect on a deeper emotional level.

My hope is that the music reaches people and awakens something greater than just listening to sound.