“During the last few weeks, my friends and family have mistaken the work of Christine Abdelnour Sehnaoui for both a broken air conditioner and a car dying outside my window. I can’t say that I blame them. Her recordings call to mind unoiled hinges, deflating balloons, asthma attacks. This Parisian alto-saxophonist, born 31 years ago to Lebanese émigré parents, plays like music does not exist. When she performs live, Sehnaoui clamps her eyes tightly shut – an expression that speaks to the intensity of focus she applies to her challenging and surprisingly diverse oeuvre. . . Sehnaoui comes from a school of improvised music obsessed with the sonic possibilities of things.”
My article on Christine Abdelnour Sehnaoui for The National is now online. Ordinarily I harbor a strong dislike for the saxophone. But in Christine’s hands, it is pure weird gold. Continue reading.
Yes! I think saxophones are fine, but her work is terrific and actually pretty inspiring, which is often hard to say about music this weird. The collision between breath and metal that she produces speaks as much truth as anything can about what it means to be a human on Earth.
Strongly placed in the Peter Brotzmann, Ned Rothenberg, Evan Parker, Mats Gustafson, John Zorn, et al tradition of careful misuse of the reed family.
Nostalgic for me, reminding of nyc’s early 90’s downtown scene.