Assi El Hallani: The Life Story Behind Lebanon's Knight of Song

Assi El Hallani is called the knight of song in Lebanon, and the name fits him. He is a man of the mountains, a singer of Baalbek, with a voice that is strong, proud, and full of the spirit of the Bekaa Valley. His songs are about love, about home, about horses and mountains, and about a Lebanon that stands tall. For more than thirty years, he has sung with a power that fills large halls and open-air festivals, and his audience has loved him for that strength.

He was born in Baalbek, an ancient city in the Bekaa Valley, known for its Roman temples and its proud people. He grew up there, in a Lebanon at war, and he learned early that a voice could be a kind of strength, a way to hold on to who you are when the world around you is falling apart. He did not become famous quickly. He worked, he sang, and he waited for his chance, and when it came, he took it with both hands and never let go.

This is the story of that knight of song. It follows him from Baalbek to Beirut, from his first songs to his greatest hits, from his years as a star across the Arab world to his work as a judge on television, and to the place he holds today as one of the great voices of Lebanon. It is a story about strength, about pride, and about a voice that refuses to fade.

A Boy From Baalbek in the Shadow of Ancient Stones

Assi El Hallani was born on 28 November 1970 in Baalbek, Lebanon, in the Bekaa Valley. Baalbek is one of the oldest cities in the world, known for its great Roman temples, and it is a place where people take pride in their history. Growing up there in the 1970s meant growing up in a Lebanon that was beautiful and troubled at the same time, a country of music and of war, of celebration and of loss. Assi’s childhood was shaped by both sides of that Lebanon.

His family was a Lebanese family from Baalbek, and his early years were spent at home, at school, and in the sounds of Lebanese music. He heard the songs of the Bekaa, with their strong rhythms and their proud words, and he heard the great singers of Lebanon on the radio. He was drawn to singing, and he sang at home and among friends, learning how his voice sounded and how it felt to hold a note. He was not a child star, and he did not perform on big stages as a boy. He was a young man who loved to sing, and who kept that love alive while life went on around him.

He also loved horses, and that love would stay with him throughout his life. In Baalbek, horses are part of the culture, and a young man who rides well is respected. Assi learned to ride, and he became known as a horseman as well as a singer. That image, a man on a horse, a knight, would become part of his public identity, and it fitted him, because he carried himself with the pride and the strength of a horseman.

School mattered, but music kept calling him. He listened to the singers who were popular in Lebanon, and he tried to understand what made a song last. He noticed that the songs people remembered were the ones with a clear melody, with words that said something true, and with a voice that sounded honest. That lesson stayed with him, and it shaped the way he later chose his songs.

As a teenager, he began to think seriously about a career in music. That was not an easy dream in Lebanon in those years. The country was at war, the music business was uncertain, and a young singer had to find a way to be heard. Assi did not have money or connections, but he had a voice, and he had the courage to try. He sang at small gatherings, he practised, and he waited for a chance to show what he could do. That chance came in the early 1990s, and he was ready for it.

Studio El Fan and the First Songs

Assi El Hallani’s first big step came when he took part in Studio El Fan, the Lebanese talent show, in the early 1990s, and he won recognition for his singing. The show introduced him to audiences across Lebanon, and it gave him a start in the music world. He was young, he was strong, and his voice was unlike the voices that were popular at the time. He sang with power, with pride, and with a feeling that came from Baalbek. The judges and the audience saw something real, and they remembered him.

His first songs arrived in the early 1990s, and they sounded like Baalbek itself: strong, proud, and full of the mountains. The rhythms came from the villages, the words were in the Lebanese dialect, and his voice sat at the centre of every track, deep and unhurried. Listeners in Lebanon heard those songs on the radio, and they recognised something real in them, a singer who was not copying Cairo or the Gulf, but singing his own home. The records found their audience slowly, first in the Bekaa, then in Beirut, then across the Arab world, carried by people who played them at weddings and in their cars.

Learning to perform was the next lesson, and Assi learned it on stage, night after night. A powerful voice must be controlled, or it will tire, and a concert must be paced, or it will drag. He learned to open with energy, to slow down for a ballad, and to close with a dabke that brought the whole hall to its feet. He moved across the stage, he spoke to the crowd, and he made a large hall feel like a village gathering. That skill cannot be taught in a studio. It is learned in front of people, and Assi learned it well.

The years after Studio El Fan were years of growth. He released more albums, he sang at weddings and concerts, and his name became known across Lebanon and in the wider Arab world. He was building a career, song by song, and he was learning that a singer of folk music must earn trust. His audience had to believe that when he sang about Baalbek, about horses, about love, he meant it, and Assi earned that belief by singing with honesty, year after year.

Baalbek stayed with him throughout his life. Even after he became famous, he spoke of his home city with pride, and his songs carried something of its spirit, a mix of strength and tenderness. A singer who remembers where he comes from sings differently from one who forgets, and Assi’s songs have always carried the sound of Baalbek in them, even when they are played far from Lebanon.

Wani Mareq Mareet, Ya Hala, and the Songs of the Mountains

The songs that made Assi El Hallani a star are now classics of Lebanese music. Wani Mareq Mareet, a song about passing by a loved one, became one of his best-known hits, and it showed his gift for a melody that is both strong and tender. The song was played on the radio, at weddings, and at parties, and it made his name known to people across the Arab world. It was a song that people could dance to, and a song they could sing along to, and that combination made it last.

Ya Hala, another of his defining songs, became a favourite, and it is still one of the songs most linked with his name. It is a song of welcome, sung with warmth, and it showed that Assi could sing a song of joy as well as a song of longing. His fans loved that range, because it showed that he was not only a singer of serious songs. He could also sing with happiness, and his audience loved him for that warmth.

Ahla El Oyoun, which means the most beautiful eyes, added to his list of romantic favourites, and it became a song played at weddings and anniversaries across the Arab world. The song’s simple words and strong melody made it easy to love, and Assi’s voice carried it without force. He did not need to shout his love. He sang it with pride, and the pride made it stronger. That is a rare skill, and it is one of the reasons his songs last.

Other songs followed, including Mali Sabah and Shaghel Balak, and each one added to his reputation as a knight of song. His albums sold, his concerts filled halls, and his name became a byword for Lebanese folk music. He performed in Lebanon, in the Gulf, in Egypt, and in Arab communities in Europe and the Americas, and his audiences were made up of people who had grown up with his songs and who sang them back to him, word for word.

These were the peak years of his career, and they taught him what it means to be a star. A star must make new music, must perform, must stay in the public eye, and must keep the trust of an audience that has many choices. Assi did all of that, and he did it without changing his sound to chase a trend. He stayed a singer of Baalbek, and his audience stayed with him because they knew what he stood for.

Festivals, the Arab World, and a Knight on Horseback

By the late 1990s, an Assi El Hallani concert had become a fixture of the Arab summer. He sang at festivals in Lebanon, where audiences gathered under the stars, and he travelled to the Gulf, where his shows in Dubai and Doha filled large halls with fans who had waited all year to see him. The dabke lines formed as soon as the drums began, hands joined, feet stamping, and the whole hall moved as one. A night with Assi was not a quiet evening. It was a celebration of the mountains, and he was its host, calling the steps, singing the verses, and keeping the energy high until the last song.

He also sang for Arab audiences far from home, in Paris, in London, and in North American cities where Lebanese families had settled. Those concerts had a different feeling, because the audience was not only listening to music. It was remembering Baalbek, the Bekaa, and the villages they had left behind, and Assi’s voice was the sound of that home. He understood that, and he sang to it, choosing songs that made the crowd feel close to Lebanon, even when they were thousands of miles away.

He also became a regular at the great festivals of Lebanon, including the Baalbeck International Festival, where he performed in the ancient Roman temples of his home city. Those stages are among the most important in Lebanon, and to perform there is a mark of honour. Assi performed there many times, and his voice, strong and clear, filled those ancient stones with Lebanese music. Those nights became part of his legend, and audiences who were there still talk about them.

His image as a horseman became a part of his public identity. He rode horses, he appeared on horseback at concerts and in videos, and his fans loved that image, because it fitted the knight of song. A man on a horse, in the mountains of Baalbek, is a powerful picture, and Assi lived it, not only for the camera but in his own life. He loved horses, he kept them, and he rode them, and that love made his public image feel real, not made up.

His music also travelled to the Gulf, where his songs were loved, and to North Africa, where listeners were drawn to his power. He sang in the Lebanese dialect, and he did not change it to suit other audiences. That choice could have limited him, but it did the opposite. It made him distinct, and listeners outside Lebanon were drawn to a sound that was clearly Lebanese, not a copy of music from elsewhere. His dialect became his signature, and his fans learned to love it.

He became a familiar face on television, appearing on music shows and in interviews, and his strong personality made him a favourite with audiences. He spoke plainly, he laughed loudly, and he did not hide his opinions. That honesty earned him respect, and it also earned him criticism at times, because a man who speaks plainly is not always welcomed. Assi did not change to please his critics. He stayed himself, and his audience stayed with him because of it.

The Voice Arabia and the Judge Who Knew the Craft

One of the most important chapters in Assi El Hallani’s later career came when he became a judge on The Voice Arabia, the Arab version of the international singing contest. He joined the judging panel, and he sat in the red chair season after season, watching young singers from across the Arab world. His role suited him, because he had built his own career from nothing, and he knew what young artists needed to hear.

Viewers saw a different side of him on the show. He was not only the powerful singer on stage. He was a man who listened carefully, who gave honest advice, and who was moved by a good performance. He praised singers who sang with feeling, and he was direct with those who did not. His honesty on the show earned him respect, and his warmth earned him love. He became a favourite judge, and his presence helped the show succeed.

The television work also brought him to a wider audience, including young viewers who had not grown up with his music. They saw him on The Voice, and they learned who he was, and they began to listen to his songs. That new audience kept his career alive, and it showed that his appeal was not limited to one generation. A singer who can reach young people through television, and older people through his concerts, has a rare kind of staying power.

His work as a judge also showed his generosity. He did not use the show only to promote himself. He used it to help young artists, to give them a chance, and to speak about the hard work a career needs. He told them that talent is not enough, that discipline matters, and that a singer must respect the audience. Those are lessons he had learned himself, and he passed them on with care.

Through these years, his own music continued. He released new songs, he performed, and he kept his place as one of Lebanon’s best-loved singers. The Voice did not replace his singing career. It added to it, and it gave him a second role, as a mentor, that he carried with pride. Many stars take a television job and forget the music. Assi did not forget, and his audience could hear that his first love was still the song itself.

Family, a Horse Accident, and the Strength to Return

Assi El Hallani’s private life has been a subject of public interest, but he has tried to keep it as private as he can. He married Collette Boulos, and the couple had three children, Maritta, Dana, and Al Waleed. For a time, his family life seemed settled, and his fans were happy to see the knight of song living the love he sang about. He spoke of his children with warmth, and he tried to protect them from the public eye, keeping their lives away from cameras and headlines. His daughter Maritta later became a singer herself, and that made him proud.

His family has remained important to him, and he has spoken about fatherhood as one of the most meaningful parts of his life. A singer who sings about love must also live it, and fatherhood gave him a new kind of love to sing about, a love that is quiet, steady, and unconditional. His fans have seen that side of him, and they have responded with warmth, because it shows that the knight is also a real man with a real family.

He has also faced hard times. He was reported to have been hurt in a horse-riding accident, and the news worried his fans across the Arab world. He recovered, and he returned to performing, but the accident was a reminder that a horseman’s life carries risks, and that a singer’s body, like his voice, must be protected. Assi handled the attention with calm, and he thanked his fans for their concern, and he went back to work.

There have also been professional disappointments, as there are in any long career. Not every song becomes a hit, not every album is received the same way, and the music world changes its tastes. A singer of Lebanese folk music can find that younger listeners want faster, more modern sounds, and that radio plays fewer traditional songs. Assi faced that shift, and he answered it by staying true to his sound while adding new touches, by working with younger producers, and by trusting that his loyal audience would stay. That trust was rewarded, and his fans stayed with him.

Through the hard times, his family and his faith in his music kept him steady. He did not disappear, and he did not complain in public. He kept working, kept recording, and kept performing, and his audience respected that steadiness. A star who survives hard years earns a different kind of love from his fans, a love based on trust rather than excitement, and Assi earned that trust over time.

Baalbeck Nights: Singing in the Ancient Temples

No stage in Lebanon means more to Assi El Hallani than Baalbeck. The festival there is held among Roman temples that have stood for two thousand years, and to sing in them is to sing inside history. Assi has performed at the Baalbeck International Festival many times, and those nights are the ones his fans remember most. His voice, deep and strong, rises between the stone columns, and the audience, seated on the ancient steps, hears Lebanese music in the place where it belongs. It is a homecoming every time, because Baalbek is his city, and the temples are his neighbours.

The festival nights are not like other concerts. The air is cool, the stones are old, and the crowd is quiet in a way that a nightclub crowd never is. Assi has said, in his own way, that Baalbeck asks a singer to be worthy, and he tries to be worthy, choosing songs that honour the place, singing with a care that matches the stones. His dabke songs sound different there, older and deeper, as if the temples themselves are listening. Audiences who were there still talk about those nights, years later, because a concert in Baalbeck is not only a show. It is a memory.

His daughter Maritta has also become a singer, and that has added a new chapter to his Baalbeck story. A father who watches his daughter sing is a proud man, and Assi has spoken of Maritta with a warmth that his fans love. She grew up hearing his voice, she learned from it, and she found her own. When they sing together, or when she performs on her own, the audience sees a family tradition, a voice passed from one generation to the next. That passing matters, because it shows that Assi’s music is not only his. It is his family’s, and it will live on.

Horses remain a part of his public life, and his love for them is not a show. He rides, he keeps horses, and he appears on horseback at concerts and in videos, a knight in the literal sense. That image, a man on a horse beneath the temples of Baalbek, is one of the most powerful pictures in Lebanese music, and it is real. He did not invent it for a video. He lives it, and his fans know the difference. A public image that is lived is stronger than one that is made up, and Assi’s is lived.

The Baalbeck nights, the horses, and his daughter together tell the story of a man who stayed rooted. He could have moved to Beirut and forgotten Baalbek, but he did not. He kept returning, kept singing there, and kept his home at the centre of his work. That rootedness is why his audience trusts him, and why his voice still sounds like the Bekaa, even after thirty years on the world’s stages.

The Knight in His Later Years

Assi El Hallani is now in his fifties, and the title his fans gave him, the knight of song, still fits. He rides horses, he sings at Baalbeck, and he carries himself the way a man from the Bekaa carries himself, with pride and with warmth. His voice has grown a little rougher with age, and that roughness suits the mountain songs, because a voice that has lived a little sings with more feeling. When Wani Mareq Mareet begins, the hall still rises, and that is a kind of applause that no award can give.

The horse accident taught him something that no stage could teach. He was hurt, he recovered, and he came back, and that return changed the way his audience sees him. They no longer see only a singer. They see a man who fell and stood up again, and that makes his songs feel more honest. He sings about love and about the mountains, and now his audience hears a man who knows what it means to be tested. That honesty is rare, and it is why his fans stayed with him through the hard years.

His children are part of his later story too. Maritta sings, and her voice carries something of her father’s, and Assi watches her with a pride that every parent knows. He has become a father on stage and off it, a man who teaches the next generation by showing them how to work, how to respect the craft, and how to love the mountains that raised them. That is a different kind of fame, and it is one that lasts longer than a hit, because it lives in the family he raised.

What he will be remembered for is not one song. It is the image of a man on a horse, singing between ancient stones, with a voice that carries across the Bekaa. Young singers from Baalbek look at him and see that they do not have to leave their city to be heard. They can sing in their own dialect, they can be proud, and they can be loved for it. That is a legacy, and it is still growing, every time his voice fills a hall and the crowd sings along.

My Take:

I think Assi El Hallani is a singer who makes me feel proud even though I am not Lebanese. His voice is strong, and his pride is clear, and when he sings, I feel as if I am hearing a mountain speak. That is a strange thing to say about a singer, but it is true. His songs do not whisper. They stand tall, and they ask the listener to stand tall with them. I admire that, because many singers try to be gentle and pleasing, and Assi tries to be strong and true, and strength is harder to fake than gentleness.

What I admire most about him is that he is from Baalbek, and he never forgot it. Baalbek is an ancient city, with temples that have stood for thousands of years, and a man from such a place carries history in his voice. Assi carries it, and he sings about it, about horses, about mountains, about home, and his audience feels that history. I think that is a gift, because a singer who forgets where he comes from sings like everyone else, but a singer who remembers sings like himself. Assi remembers, and his songs sound like Baalbek.

I also think about his image as a horseman, and about what it means to be called a knight. A knight is not only a fighter. He is a man of honour, a man who keeps his word, a man who protects what he loves. Assi lives that image, not only on stage but in his life. He rides horses, he loves his family, and he keeps his dignity, even when life is hard. I respect that, because a public image is easy to fake, but a life lived with honour is hard to fake, and Assi seems to live it.

His work on The Voice Arabia matters to me more than I expected. I have watched talent shows, and I know how often the judges talk more about themselves than about the singers. Assi seems to have done the opposite. He listened, he advised, and he kept the focus on the young people in front of him. That tells me something about his character. A star who has already made it does not need to help the next generation, but the best stars do it anyway, because they remember how hard the early years were. I think his mentoring will be part of his legacy, just as much as his songs.

I want to be honest about something I find less strong in his career. His style has stayed very close to Lebanese folk music, and his albums can sound alike to a listener who hears them all at once. The rhythms stay familiar, the themes stay close to love and pride, and the sound does not change much from one album to the next. I understand why he did it, because his audience loves that sound, and changing it would be a risk. But I also think a few more surprises, a few songs that stepped outside the familiar world, would have shown us another side of him. A singer who only sings in one style can become a strong voice in a narrow room, and I would have liked to hear him step into a wider room now and then.

That said, I do not think the repetition is a fault in the way some critics might say. Lebanese folk music is a wide world, and Assi finds different corners of it in each album. One song is about passing by a loved one, another is about welcome, another is about beautiful eyes. Those are different feelings, and he sings them differently, even if the style stays close. I think a listener who pays attention will hear the differences, and I think his fans do pay attention, because they sing the words back to him at concerts, and they know which song is which.

His horse accident makes me think about risk, and about how a life lived boldly carries danger. He rides horses, he performs, he travels, and he has been hurt. I am glad he recovered, and I am glad he returned to the stage, because his voice is needed, and because his audience missed him. I think the accident taught him something about fragility, about how quickly a strong man can be hurt, and I hope it made him value his health and his family even more. A knight who has been hurt and who returns to the saddle is a braver knight, and Assi returned.

I think about his daughter Maritta, who became a singer herself, and about what it means for a father to see his child follow him. That must be a proud moment, and a frightening one too, because a father knows how hard the music world is. I hope Assi guides her with the same patience he showed on The Voice, telling her that talent is not enough, that discipline matters, and that a singer must respect the audience. Those are lessons he learned himself, and they are worth passing on.

When I compare him with other Lebanese singers, I see that his strength is not romance or elegance. Other singers are known for gentle love songs, for classical poetry, for bright pop. Assi is known for power, for pride, and for a voice that fills a hall. I think that is a harder strength to build, because gentleness is easy to love, but power can frighten people, and it takes time to earn trust for it. Assi earned it over thirty years, and his audience trusts him because of it.

I think about the younger men from the mountains who watch him and think, if he can be a knight, I can be a knight too. That is a powerful message, and it is one of the best things about his career. He did not only make songs. He made a path for singers from Baalbek, from the Bekaa, from the villages, who want to sing with pride and to be themselves. I hope he knows how many young singers he has helped by being himself, and I hope he keeps being himself, because the world needs more voices like his.

If I had to choose one song to explain Assi El Hallani to someone who had never heard Lebanese music, I would choose Wani Mareq Mareet, because it holds everything he does best in one place. It is strong, it is tender, it is about love, and it is sung with a voice that makes the listener feel proud. I would tell that person to listen to it loudly, to feel the rhythm, and to notice how the song makes them want to stand taller. That feeling is the point of his music, and Assi understands it.

In the end, I think Assi El Hallani’s story teaches a simple lesson that I want to remember. You do not have to be gentle to be loved. You can be strong, you can be proud, and you can sing in your own dialect, and the world will listen. Assi did that, and his songs are still sung at weddings, still played on the radio, and still loved across the Arab world. A career built on strength and pride, sung with a voice like his, is a career that earns its place, and I am glad his place is secure.

Baalbeck is the image I cannot get out of my mind when I think about Assi El Hallani. A man singing between Roman temples that have stood for two thousand years, his voice rising into stone that has heard empires come and go, and an audience sitting quietly, listening. That picture tells me what his career is about. He is not a singer of the moment. He is a singer of a place, of a history, and of a people who have lived in those mountains for a very long time. When he sings there, he is not performing. He is coming home, and the audience knows it.

His daughter Maritta is another part of his story that stays with me. A father who watches his child follow him into music must feel proud and afraid at once, proud because his work meant something, afraid because he knows how hard the work is. I hope Assi guides her the way he guided the young singers on The Voice, with patience, with honesty, and with the warning that talent is not enough. If she learns that from him, she will be ready, and his voice will live on in hers, which is the best kind of legacy a singer can have.

Horses are a strange thing to think about in a music career, but with Assi they make sense. A horseman learns to be patient, to be strong, and to trust an animal that is bigger than he is. Those are the same lessons a singer needs. I think his years on horseback taught him the calm he shows on stage, the way he stands, the way he waits for the right moment to sing. A man who rides well does not rush, and Assi does not rush his songs. He lets them build, and the audience builds with him.

What strikes me about his accident is how it showed the risk of a life lived boldly. He rides, he performs, he travels, and he has been hurt. I am glad he recovered, and I am glad he returned to the stage, because his voice is needed. I also think the accident taught him something about fragility, about how quickly a strong man can be hurt, and I hope it made him value his health and his family even more. A knight who has been hurt and who returns to the saddle is a braver knight, and Assi returned.

If a young singer from the mountains asked me what to learn from Assi El Hallani, I would say three things. First, remember your home, because it is the source of your sound. Second, be patient with young singers, because you were young once and someone helped you. Third, ride your own horse, sing your own songs, and do not copy anyone else. Assi did all three, and his career is the proof that they work. He is still here, still singing, still proud, and that is a lesson worth remembering.

His concerts abroad are something I think about often, because they show what a singer means to people who live far from home. A Lebanese family in Paris or in London hears Assi sing, and for a few hours they are back in Baalbek, in the Bekaa, at a wedding, in a village square. That feeling, of being home without travelling, is a gift, and Assi gives it. I think that is why his audiences abroad are so emotional, and why they sing along so loudly. They are not only enjoying a show. They are remembering who they are, and Assi’s voice helps them remember.

I also think about the dabke lines at his concerts, and about what it means to dance together. A line of people holding hands, moving as one, is a picture of community, and Assi leads that line. He calls the steps, he sings the verses, and the hall follows him. That is a beautiful thing, and I think it is why his music matters beyond entertainment. It holds people together, literally, hand in hand, and that is a rare gift for a singer to give.

His children are something I think about often, because they show what a singer’s life means at home. Maritta sings, and her voice carries something of her father’s, and Assi watches her with a pride that every parent knows. Dana and Al Waleed have their own lives, and Assi has kept them close, even while travelling the world. That closeness is something many fathers know, and it is why his fans feel close to him. He is not only a star. He is a father who worked, who travelled, and who came home, and that is a life many of his listeners live themselves.

I also think about the horse accident, and about what it means to fall and to stand up again. A man who is hurt and returns sings differently, with a knowledge that a young singer cannot have, and Assi’s later performances carry that knowledge. His audience heard it, and they welcomed him back, because a voice they loved had been silent for a while, and they were glad to hear it again. That welcome is a gift, and it is one that Assi earned by being honest, by being strong, and by singing with a power that his audience trusts.

Frequently Asked Questions

Where was Assi El Hallani born?

Assi El Hallani was born on 28 November 1970 in Baalbek, in the Bekaa Valley of Lebanon. Baalbek is known for its ancient Roman temples, and he has spoken of his home city with pride throughout his career.

How did Assi El Hallani become famous?

He became famous by taking part in Studio El Fan, the Lebanese talent show, in the early 1990s. The show introduced him to audiences across Lebanon, and he followed it with albums and concerts that built his reputation.

What are Assi El Hallani’s most famous songs?

His most famous songs include Wani Mareq Mareet, Ya Hala, Ahla El Oyoun, Mali Sabah, and Shaghel Balak. Wani Mareq Mareet is the song most often linked with his name.

Why is Assi El Hallani called the knight of song?

He earned the title because of his strong voice, his pride in Baalbek, and his image as a horseman. The knight fits a singer who carries himself with honour and who sings with the strength of the mountains.

Was Assi El Hallani a judge on The Voice?

Yes, he served as a judge on The Voice Arabia, where he listened to young singers from across the Arab world and gave them honest advice. Viewers came to know him as a warm and direct judge.

Is Assi El Hallani still performing?

Yes, he continues to perform and release music, and his older songs are still played widely in Lebanon and across the Arab world. His concerts still draw large audiences who sing his songs along with him.