Singing live feels like coming home—art runs deep in my blood: Diana Haddad
Your latest single, El Nas El Helwa, was a big success. Did you expect that kind of reaction?
I was hopeful because the song radiates joy and positive energy—but honestly, the audience's response exceeded my expectations. I loved the simplicity and playful spirit of the lyrics. It really reflects who I am and what people are looking for: genuine happiness. That's why it touched hearts so quickly.
You were away from the scene for almost three years. Why?
I went through a difficult personal period, so I chose to step back and take a breath. It wasn't a break from art itself—it was an inner pause. I spent that time watching, reflecting, and recharging. I truly believe that period helped me grow. When I returned, I came back with even more strength and passion.
There were rumours that you retired and wore the veil after your pilgrimage. What's the truth?
The truth is, I never retired. I didn't make any official announcement like that. Yes, I performed the pilgrimage and it was a deeply spiritual experience—but I never said I was leaving music. If I ever do decide, it will be announced clearly and directly. People change and evolve, but change doesn't mean an end. I believe in balance, and I respect everyone's personal choices.
Have you ever thought seriously about retiring?
Yes, of course. Moments of reflection can make us question everything. But music runs in my blood. I've worked so hard to get here, and there's still so much I want to share. If I ever do retire, it will be a decision made openly, with complete conviction.
You now prefer releasing singles over full albums. Why?
Because the industry has changed. Listeners today often focus on one or two songs from an album, and the rest can get overlooked. By releasing singles, I can treat each song as a special project, giving it the attention it deserves so it can shine on its own.
You once wished to see more duets between female artists. Why does that matter to you?
Absolutely—it's something close to my heart. Sadly, collaboration among women in our industry is rare. But when two female voices come together in a respectful and creative way, the result can be truly special. Collaboration enriches art—it doesn't diminish anyone.
What's your view on mahraganat music?
I'm not against it. Everyone has the right to choose what they enjoy. But I hope there's more awareness about lyrics and preserving artistic taste. Art reflects society, and if there's real talent within mahraganat, then welcome—but it should still respect basic artistic values.
How did the Moroccan audience receive your Mawazine performance?
It was incredible. From the first moment on stage, I felt this powerful energy. Moroccan audiences are so loyal, warm, and expressive. That night felt different—truly special. It was as though I was performing for my own family.
You've called Morocco your second home. What does it mean to you?
I meant it wholeheartedly. My brothers are married to Moroccan women, and their kids are half-Lebanese, half-Moroccan. Many of my closest friends are Moroccan too. I deeply admire the culture, traditions, and generosity here. Every time I come back, it feels like coming home.
At the concert, you performed a surprise duet with Douzi. How did that happen?
The song Ehda Habba was originally a solo, but I thought it would be special to add Moroccan and Spanish verses. Douzi immediately came to mind—he's both a friend and a gifted artist. His surprise entrance delighted the crowd, and the duet felt spontaneous and heartfelt, which I love.
Are you considering stepping into acting?
I'm ready—but only if it's on my terms. Every year I get offers from Egyptian projects, Bedouin dramas, and co-productions—but I haven't yet seen a role that truly feels right for me. Acting is serious work, and I don't want to do it just for visibility.
Are you afraid of trying something new like acting?
Not at all. I've stopped being afraid of anything—but I have become more selective. I want a role that fits who I am and adds something meaningful to my artistic journey. I dislike routine, and if I try something new, it has to reflect my spirit.
What do you think about social media and AI in the arts?
Social media helps us connect directly with audiences—which is great. But too much of it can take away an artist's mystique. AI is a reality now, and we have to understand it and use it wisely. But if it's used carelessly, it risks stripping away the human essence that makes art special.
How do you stay grounded amid all this change?
I try to keep life simple. I exercise, train my voice, and spend time with family and friends. I love calm and always look for inner peace. Success matters—but it's meaningless without emotional and spiritual balance.
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You were away from the scene for almost three years. Why? I went through a difficult personal period, so I chose to step back and take a breath. It wasn't a break from art itself—it was an inner pause. I spent that time watching, reflecting, and recharging. I truly believe that period helped me grow. When I returned, I came back with even more strength and passion. There were rumours that you retired and wore the veil after your pilgrimage. What's the truth? The truth is, I never retired. I didn't make any official announcement like that. Yes, I performed the pilgrimage and it was a deeply spiritual experience—but I never said I was leaving music. If I ever do decide, it will be announced clearly and directly. People change and evolve, but change doesn't mean an end. I believe in balance, and I respect everyone's personal choices. Have you ever thought seriously about retiring? Yes, of course. Moments of reflection can make us question everything. But music runs in my blood. I've worked so hard to get here, and there's still so much I want to share. If I ever do retire, it will be a decision made openly, with complete conviction. You now prefer releasing singles over full albums. Why? Because the industry has changed. Listeners today often focus on one or two songs from an album, and the rest can get overlooked. By releasing singles, I can treat each song as a special project, giving it the attention it deserves so it can shine on its own. You once wished to see more duets between female artists. Why does that matter to you? Absolutely—it's something close to my heart. Sadly, collaboration among women in our industry is rare. But when two female voices come together in a respectful and creative way, the result can be truly special. Collaboration enriches art—it doesn't diminish anyone. What's your view on mahraganat music? I'm not against it. Everyone has the right to choose what they enjoy. 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The song Ehda Habba was originally a solo, but I thought it would be special to add Moroccan and Spanish verses. Douzi immediately came to mind—he's both a friend and a gifted artist. His surprise entrance delighted the crowd, and the duet felt spontaneous and heartfelt, which I love. Are you considering stepping into acting? I'm ready—but only if it's on my terms. Every year I get offers from Egyptian projects, Bedouin dramas, and co-productions—but I haven't yet seen a role that truly feels right for me. Acting is serious work, and I don't want to do it just for visibility. Are you afraid of trying something new like acting? Not at all. I've stopped being afraid of anything—but I have become more selective. I want a role that fits who I am and adds something meaningful to my artistic journey. I dislike routine, and if I try something new, it has to reflect my spirit. What do you think about social media and AI in the arts? Social media helps us connect directly with audiences—which is great. But too much of it can take away an artist's mystique. AI is a reality now, and we have to understand it and use it wisely. But if it's used carelessly, it risks stripping away the human essence that makes art special. How do you stay grounded amid all this change? I try to keep life simple. I exercise, train my voice, and spend time with family and friends. I love calm and always look for inner peace. Success matters—but it's meaningless without emotional and spiritual balance.
