I do not define myself as a Christian, nor do I identify with any religion. I grew up within Muslim culture (my father is a practising Muslim), but I do not practise the religion. I also grew up within Western Christian culture, without necessarily being aware of the religious nature of the holidays and traditions that mark the Gregorian calendar. I do not wish to preach any dogma or champion any religion.

Reading works such as Les Misérables by Victor Hugo or Farewell Waltz by Milan Kundera, I discovered characters known as “Christ figures”. These characters left a profound impression on me and evoke that love conveyed through action, which I have also glimpsed at times in my father. The idea of universal, unconditional love for one’s neighbour runs through much of my thinking these days.

I feel that religion must hold some of the keys. Since taking a vow of sobriety, I feel closer to an inner peace I have long aspired to. I also feel I have grown closer to the Invisible. Something I do not feel I can assign a dogma, a name or a set of rules to.

This question has been taking root in my mind for over a year. I also looked into the subject and discovered that writing out the Bible is a fairly common practice in the study of the text (by searching for “writing the Bible by hand” on YouTube). And, as often happens when I see someone undertake such a demanding task, I thought: “Why not me?” That is where the idea for this new artistic performance came from.

Artistic performances are, first and foremost, a way for me to experiment on myself. To explore my own perception of time and effort, and observe the impact on my creativity. Will writing out the Bible for seven to eight hours a day have any influence on the way I make music during the last four hours of the day? I have no idea. That is precisely what I want to explore. There is an enormous amount of uncertainty in all of this. I am not planning to make a gospel album, I do not wish to caricature the visual codes of Christianity, and I have no intention of preaching any dogma. Perhaps this experience will find its way into my music in an unexpected way. Perhaps it will leave no perceptible trace. I want to leave that question open and live through the experience without deciding its outcome in advance.

The spatial, temporal and emotional context in which a work is created, and the constraint under which it takes shape, are particular to human experience and can never be experienced or reproduced in the same way by a machine. No matter how sophisticated it is. Context is what sets human creation apart from artificial creation. And now more than ever, this context gives a work much of its meaning and value.

Artistic performances are also a way of experimenting on the audience: how does a human being’s action, in a defined space and at a given moment t, influence the response of those who witness it?

If you feel hatred, disgust, irritation, compassion, inspiration or admiration, I invite you to reflect on that.

ALL LOVE