I love abstraction in music. In the music I listen to, and in the music I create myself.
This is undoubtedly due to the formatting of my musical ear over the years, to the fine tuning of my listening.
Among a few landmarks of my musical education, certain experimental parts of Pink Floyd, and then of course the beginnings of Tangerine Dream and Klaus Schulze, then the discovery of electro-acoustic and contemporary music, a certain form of free jazz or improvised music.
Abstraction is first and foremost an experience of uprooting oneself from familiar landmarks and immediate, illustrative and figurative references. Musical abstraction leads to a different listening experience, as it is not preformatted by predictable compositional patterns. If it can generate a certain discomfort, it also reconfigures listening by giving an active role to the listener, who must invent his or her own reference points, his or her own grids of apprehension.
I think it's also a way of apprehending music in its very essence, without projecting a pre-established narrative or descriptive filter, freeing oneself from the expectations of a familiar musical form, be it classical music (concerto, symphony, etc.) or certain rock standards (verses, choruses, etc.).
As a musician, abstraction for me is associated with the idea of creative freedom, of exploring and experimenting with sound worlds of different architecture, comfortable or not, intellectually and sensorially challenging.
Above all, abstract music is a form of experience requiring active involvement on the part of the listener to enter a parallel universe with its own rules, in terms of geometry, volume, color and movement.
In this respect, abstract music is comparable to an abstract painting or sculpture: escaping the most immediate interpretative grids, it opens up a multisensory reception space in which the listener plays an active role, projecting onto the sounds his or her own auditory memory, imagination, reference points and visualizations.
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