Norwegian classical guitarist and composer Christina Sandsengen speaks to IAM about her most personal project yet – Tombeaux, an intimate album of remembrance recorded in the haunting acoustics of Emanuel Vigeland’s mausoleum in Oslo.
As the album gathers international acclaim and enters GRAMMY contention, Sandsengen reflects on love, loss and the power of music to heal
Your new album Tombeaux is an intimate and deeply personal tribute to your late loved ones. For readers who may not yet know your work, how would you describe the heart of this project?
At its core, Tombeaux is a gift of love and remembrance. Each piece is dedicated to someone I have lost – my parents and grandparents, people who shaped my life in profound ways. The album is not only about grief, but also about gratitude, admiration and the beauty of keeping their memory alive through sound. It is both an intimate diary and a universal reflection on love and loss.
You chose to record Tombeaux in Emanuel Vigeland’s mausoleum in Oslo. What drew you to this extraordinary venue, and how did its haunting acoustics shape the emotional character of the album?
The mausoleum is in complete darkness, and the walls are covered in frescoes depicting the human cycle of life and death – it’s unlike any other space I know. The acoustics create a resonance that almost feels as though the building itself is breathing with you. When I played there, the sound expanded and returned, transformed – almost like a dialogue between me, the guitar and the space. It was the only place that could embody the gravity and intimacy of this album.
Each piece on Tombeaux is dedicated to a loved one you’ve lost. Did you approach these tributes as musical portraits of their character, or as reflections of your own emotional journey with them? And in translating such personal memories into music, what moments in creating the album were the most difficult – and the most cathartic?
It’s both. Some pieces are almost portraits: the essence of who they were, their strength, their fragility. Others reflect my personal journey of grief, longing and love. The hardest moments were writing for my parents; the grief felt bottomless. But also, those were the most cathartic pieces, because in shaping music from my sorrow, I found a way to transform pain into something lasting and meaningful.
You’ve said in previous interviews that the guitar has been your “closest companion through every phase of life”. How did it help you process grief while composing Tombeaux? Do you see it as a vessel for memory or more as a partner in healing?
The classical guitar has always felt like home to me – an anchor I’ve held on to through life’s greatest traumas, including losing my closest loved ones in such tragic ways. It has carried me, kept me standing and helped me move forward despite everything. For me, the guitar is not only a vessel of memory but also a way of healing. By pouring my emotions into the instrument as I play, I find both consolation and a sense of peace. It’s where pain transforms into something that gives me strength.
The tombeau tradition dates back to the 17th century, with composers writing musical memorials for their predecessors. How do you see Tombeaux reimagining it for the classical guitar in today’s world?
I wanted to honour the tradition while making it deeply personal. Historically, the tombeau was often written as a homage within a musical lineage, and in a sense I do that as well, by paying tribute to those who shaped me. But for me, Tombeaux is also a very intimate dialogue with life, death and memory. By bringing the tradition into the present through the classical guitar, I hope it shows that this form can still speak with urgency today, carrying not only reverence but also vulnerability and deeply personal stories.
Your career has ranged from recording Debussy to collaborating with metal bands to arranging Randy Rhoads. How did these experiences outside the traditional classical canon prepare you for something as deeply personal as Tombeaux?
Stepping outside the canon taught me to trust my own artistic voice. I learned to embrace contrasts and follow what felt true rather than what fit convention. My goal is always to express music in the most honest, raw and authentic way possible.
While your album Solace marked your debut as a composer, Tombeaux feels like a new level of vulnerability. How has composing changed your relationship with the guitar as your “closest companion”? And looking at your career so far, do you feel this album marks a turning point in how you define yourself as both a guitarist and a composer?
Absolutely. Solace was the beginning of finding my voice as a composer. With Tombeaux, I had to strip away every barrier and play from the rawest part of myself. That vulnerability deepened my relationship with the classical guitar to a point where I no longer just play it – it feels like it has become an extension of my heart and soul.
Tombeaux has already received five-star reviews internationally, praised for both its intimacy and universality. What has been the most surprising or moving listener response to the album so far?
One listener told me that hearing the album made them feel less alone in their grief, and that it gave them comfort they didn’t expect. That touched me deeply, because it means the music is not just about my own losses, but can also resonate and help others. That’s the most meaningful outcome I could hope for.
The Recording Academy has become increasingly receptive to deeply personal, genre-defying projects. What do you hope GRAMMY voters will hear in Tombeaux that sets it apart from other classical recordings this year?
I hope they hear raw honesty. The album is not about virtuosity for its own sake, or about fitting into categories. It’s about life, death, memory and love – universal themes expressed through the intimate voice of the classical guitar. What makes it unique is the vulnerability behind the music, and the way the mausoleum itself became part of the sound, almost like another instrument in the dialogue.
If Tombeaux were to receive GRAMMY recognition, who or what in your life would you feel you owe that achievement?
First and foremost, to my loved ones who are no longer here – my parents and all my grandparents. Without them, there would be no Tombeaux. This album is my homage to their lives and to everything they gave me. And also, to the classical guitar itself which has been my most faithful companion and anchor through life. If recognition comes, it will be because of the love, support and sacrifice they gave me. This recognition would belong to them.
To discover more about Christina Sandsengen and her new album Tombeaux, visit www.christinasandsengen.com
