Few artists command as solid a presence as Rafael Anton Irisarri. The prolific New York-based producer, engineer, and sound designer boasts an expansive body of work built on deep sonic exploration and a relentless drive for auditory and thematic innovation. From his potently beautiful soundscapes to evocative live performances that transform acoustic spaces and perceptions, Irisarri’s legacy transcends any preconceived limitations within the alternative arts scene. Through his acclaimed project The Sight Below, Irisarri merges shoegaze with minimal techno, showcasing his versatility and unique approach to sonic storytelling.
In this interview, Irisarri discusses his new studio, Black Knoll, the recently remastered release of his seminal 2017 album, Midnight Colours, and his deeply reflective insights into the existential threats pervading Western civilisation. He also highlights his continuous evolution within the ever-expanding soundscape industry. Rafael’s generously collaborative spirit has also seen him join forces with renowned creative talents such as Julianna Barwick, Biosphere, Grouper, Leandro Fresco, Steve Hauschildt, and Benoît Pioulard. These collaborations have enriched his musical repertoire and extended his influence across multiple facets of his illustrious career.
Your musical oeuvre encompasses a diverse range of creative roles, from composing and performing to mastering and producing. Could you share what initially drew you to the world of experimental sound design, particularly in genres like drone, minimalism, electronic, and how you started your artistic career?
Rafael Anton Irisarri: Growing up, I had limited access to recorded music. I relied on hand-me-downs from relatives or friends, which included the few records I owned. I am entirely self-taught without any formal musical training. I was a shy, pale, skinny, awkward child who was often bullied – a bit of a loner. Music helped me cope with my feelings of not fitting in from a young age. These days, I still find myself feeling that way sometimes. When I was ten, I saw Guns N’ Roses live at The Ritz in New York City on the TV. It sparked an obsession with heavy metal music and guitars. By the time I was eleven, I was listening to everything from Black Sabbath to Iron Maiden and Motörhead.
When I was fifteen, a friend from the local industrial scene introduced me to The Orb. Curious, I asked her what kind of this music was, and she replied, “This is ambient music.” That was a gateway that led me to artists like Kraftwerk, The Cure, Joy Division, Swans, My Bloody Valentine, Cocteau Twins, Harold Budd, Talk Talk, and Slowdive in my teenage years. Later, I would find minimalist composers like La Monte Young, Terry Riley, Steve Reich, Arvo Pärt, Moondog, Éliane Radigue, Pauline Oliveros, Laurie Spiegel, and many more. Elements from these artists have profoundly influenced my music, as I incorporated field recordings, found sounds, rhythmic syncopation, and textural production methods into my compositions and productions. These sometimes disparate influences from my formative years and personal discoveries blend and create a sound that’s been described by others as “bleached-out drone textures filled with soaring Romantic motifs.”
In the 2000s, I started my music career in Seattle by curating festivals and organizing electronic music events. It took me a while to get the confidence to show my work to people when I started making electronic music more than 25 years ago, let alone send record labels demos. Most of my friends in Seattle didn’t even know that I was making music. In 2007, I was signed by Ghostly International after receiving hundreds of rejections from labels. I released two albums under the artist name “The Sight Below.” I will always be grateful to Sam (Ghostly’s founder) for giving me that opportunity.
Your music does indeed reflect a broad and unique range of influences, thus effortlessly transcending any potential rigidity in artistic expression. I believe you also take inspiration from existentialist philosophy and literary fiction in addition to the surrealist aesthetics of filmmaker David Lynch. With such a wide scope of artistic influences, how do you synthesize these diverse elements to forge a sound (and legacy) that is both distinctively your own and deeply reflective of such varied inspirations?
Rafael Anton Irisarri: Throughout my work, I explore many aspects of the human condition and question our existence. Whether it is the relationship between humans and time (‘Midnight Colours’), the relationship with a place (‘A Fragile Geography’), or the emotional toll of our ecological impact (‘Solastalgia’). I incorporate these themes into my compositions and focus on my relation to them to create brief moments of clarity, in a way. Music can be a way to observe and comment on what’s happening around us, making us think about things we might usually overlook.
David Lynch’s knack for mixing the ordinary with the bizarre really inspires me. It pushed me to experiment with unconventional writing and structures, even while using something as simple as a guitar to craft my soundscapes. His influence helped me break traditional composition rules and embrace the happy accidents that happen when I improvise in the studio. Sometimes, I like to take a literary storytelling approach (like I did with El Ferrocarril Desvaneciente) and use sound to weave complex stories with multiple layers of meaning.
‘Midnight Colours’ has a beautifully painterly atmosphere, almost as if listeners are privy to a cinematic projection of the artist’s vivid dreams (and nightmares) screened on a collage of dystopian canvases. Considering your philosophical exploration of time in the album, particularly through its thematic linkage to the Doomsday Clock, how do you think the soundscape arts can influence mass consciousness towards the existential risks we face? In what ways do you hope this album impacts the listener’s understanding or awareness of these sobering dangers in relation to human survival?
Rafael Anton Irisarri: Throughout the years, I have been exploring themes of existential dilemmas and the precariousness of human existence in my work. Soundscape music offers an immersive experience, evokes visceral reactions, and conveys complex themes in ways that transcend language. I carve out a kind of sonic narrative to engulf listeners and let them listen, feel, and experience these concepts. The physicality of sound can be very impactful, and this is even more evident during my live performances.
Take “Midnight Colours” as an example—it doesn’t just play in the background; it grips listeners with the urgency and weight of existential risks while echoing the symbolism of the Doomsday Clock. Rich layers of sound and texture evoke urgency, anxiety, and profound contemplation. The abstract notion of a global catastrophe feels intensely personal and immediate.
When music strikes a chord with listeners, it ignites conversations amongst the audience and could potentially spark them into action. It could move listeners to consider personal changes, support vital causes, or advocate for necessary policy shifts. This truly highlights the transformative potential of music and how it can galvanize us to confront existential risks with courage and conviction and shape a future where awareness leads to meaningful change.
With my new album, FAÇADISMS, I want the audience to question what it truly means to live in a free society and to consider the hidden costs of that freedom. Are we genuinely free, or is this “freedom” merely a façade designed to maintain existing systems of power and control? Through the compositions on the album, I want listeners to reflect on how our lives in the West compare to those in other parts of the world. Is the freedom we cherish and take for granted in the West truly universal, or does it come at the expense of others? Whose interests does our freedom ultimately serve? Is it genuinely for the people, by the people, or is it manipulated to benefit a select few?
I’d like the audience to consider the uncomfortable reality that our prosperity in the West might be built on the suffering and exploitation of people in less fortunate regions. Consider how the extraction of resources often leads to environmental degradation and human rights abuses. These are not easy questions, and I don’t claim to know the answers. FAÇADISMS is a call to examine the complexities and contradictions of modern life in Western societies. I hope to peel back the layers and confront the truths that lie beneath the surface. It is an exploration of the ethical and moral dimensions of our existence, prompting us to reconsider our place in the world and the real cost of our so-called freedom.
Absolutely. Schopenhauer, whose system of metaphysics had a profound influence on Wagner, wrote extensively on how music reflects the fundamental essence of the Will; that is, the direct manifestation of the Ding an sich (‘thing-in-itself’), unlike other art forms, which reflect the shadow of the Will’s essence. In this context, would you say political – or perhaps more broadly philosophical – thought is intrinsically linked to modern classical and ambient-adjacent music? Considering the global influence and responsibility of leadership musicians have within the arts industry, do you think more soundscape artists should actively use their platforms to address geopolitical issues?
Rafael Anton Irisarri: I believe so. All art inherently carries political dimensions, often even transcending the artist’s intentions. The systems in which we live inevitably shape our perspectives and creations. Politics, in its own right, operates as a kind of artistic theatre—an often absurd spectacle of competing ideas. I find that albums offer a much more nuanced and effective platform for delving into complex geopolitical issues compared to the confines of social media. The inherent nature of social media tends to hinder meaningful discourse, fostering echo chambers that suppress dissent and curtail genuine debate. In such environments, it becomes exceedingly challenging to engage in profound and constructive conversations.
Interestingly, you mentioned the physicality of sound. Throughout your career, you’ve performed in a variety of interesting venues, from churches and synagogues to museums and festivals. How do these optically differentiated environments shape your live performances from your perspective? Do you believe performing in spiritual venues elicits an especially transcendent quality? Additionally, do you have any specific aspirations or new formats you hope to explore in your future live shows?
Rafael Anton Irisarri: Performing in such varied venues has profoundly influenced the way I approach my live sets. Each place carries its history, acoustics, and energy, which in turn shapes the experience for both myself and the audience. Churches and synagogues, with their inherent spiritual and historical weight, often lend a transcendent quality to the music. The reverberations in these spaces create a unique auditory experience that can feel almost otherworldly. I love the way sound lingers and intertwines with the silence. In museums and festivals, the context shifts. Museums often imbue performances with a sense of contemplation and introspection, aligning sounds with visual art and history. Festivals, on the other hand, bring collective energy and a sense of community, which can be incredibly invigorating and inspiring.
Regarding spiritual venues – there’s definitely something special about performing in places where people have sought solace, reflection, and connection for centuries. The architecture and the atmosphere seem to resonate with the music in a way that can feel magical. It’s as if the space itself becomes an active participant in the performance. For instance, performing at the White Stork Synagogue in Wroclaw, Poland, was especially emotional, given its history as the only synagogue in the town to survive the Holocaust. It was a poignant reminder of the resilience of culture in the face of rising anti-Semitism across Europe.
Looking ahead, I’m keen to explore more immersive and interdisciplinary formats. The idea of integrating lights, visuals, and other sensory elements into my live shows to create a more augmented experience is very appealing. For instance, in my live collaboration with Abul Mogard in Rome this July, we performed on a rooftop alongside the famous Roman aqueducts in a surround sound 5.1 format. It was a beautiful experience for both us and the audience. Collaborating with artists from different fields to design performances that break traditional boundaries is thrilling. Ultimately, it’s about finding new ways to evoke emotion and deep focus, creating spaces where music can touch people, and continuously pushing the limits of what a live set can be or should be. Taking chances and relishing in their uncertainty while aspiring and reaching outside of one’s comfort zone.
Your alternative project, The Sight Below, is renowned for its unique fusion of shoegaze and minimal techno. How has the evolution of this project influenced your recent work, especially in terms of sound design and thematic exploration? Additionally, how does your new studio, Black Knoll, facilitate or transform the creative process for projects like this? Can you also share insights into the gear and technologies you currently use for the tech boffins among us and how they impact your sound?
Rafael Anton Irisarri: The themes explored in The Sight Below often centre around introspection, melancholy, and the beauty found in sadness. Those themes resonate in my latest projects, whether solo or with Orcas (my “band” project with Benoît Pioulard). The atmospheric qualities and the subtle interplay of light and shadow in the music continue to inform the thematic choices in my recent compositions. This ongoing evolution reflects a deepening understanding of how sound can be used to convey complex emotional states and narratives that do not rely on traditional song structures or lyrical content.
Black Knoll has been a transformative space for my creative process. It’s equipped with state-of-the-art gear and designed to facilitate a seamless workflow that allows me to experiment freely and push the boundaries of my sound with both analogue and digital gear. The studio’s acoustics and layout are tailored to support detailed sound design work, ensuring that every nuance is captured and can be finely tuned. This environment has been crucial for developing the dense, textured soundscapes that have characterized my work over the last decade.
Over the years, I have gathered a beautiful collection of vintage guitars, basses, and amps in my studio. Amongst my favourites are the 1966 Fender XII guitar, the 1967 Hagström H8 bass, the 1974 Rickenbacker 4001 bass, the 1969 Micro-Frets Spacetone, and the 1985 Vox AC-30 amp. Recently, I’ve been interested in aluminium neck guitars from Electrical Guitar Company. I have the Travis Bean Designs 1000A and 1000S models, which were introduced to me by Stephan O’Malley from SunnO))) during our tour together in Australia in 2019. I absolutely fell in love with the playability and sound of these guitars. Aside from those stringed instruments, I rely heavily on my Prophet-5 and often pair it with a vintage nineties Alesis MIDIVERB II and a CXM 1978 from Chase Bliss Audio. I can spend hours improvising on the Prophet and running it through these effects units to explore new sounds and possibilities.
For mastering, some of my favourite pieces in the studio include the Chandler Limited TG12345 Curve Bender EQ and the Gyraf G24 Passive Aggressive Compressor. The G24 is a powerful unit that has independent controls for the mid and sides, which both feed-forward and provide feedback. This is indispensable. I also use the Sontec MEP-250 on almost everything I master nowadays. It’s an incredible piece of equipment, and the tonal quality of its op-amps is unparalleled. You really can’t go wrong with it.
You have stated in the past that, regarding the artistic process, comfort breeds mediocrity, and struggle facilitates innovation. You’ve described your music-making process as a form of therapy, which strongly aligns with Nietzsche’s aphoristic line, “To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.” With this perspective in mind, do you have any advice for emerging artists on how to embrace struggle and use it as a catalyst for channelling creative growth?
Rafael Anton Irisarri: Oh, that interview! Haha, I think some people might have taken my comments the wrong way. I was talking about pushing yourself out of your musical comfort zone – whether that means experimenting with different styles, getting creative with gear, or exploring new ways to play your instruments. I wasn’t suggesting that you need to be starving or lack the basic needs to create beautiful work or be an innovative artist. For me, discomfort and struggle have been part of my creative journey. Instead of avoiding challenges, I see them as opportunities for growth. Embracing obstacles can turn them into stepping stones for innovation and self-discovery. As Nietzsche said about finding meaning in suffering, I’ve looked for meaning in my struggles and personal traumas. Each challenge has taught me something new about myself, my art, and the world. I believe in channelling your emotions into your music—whether they stem from personal issues, societal concerns, or global events. Music has the power to convey complex feelings and tell stories, making it a unique way to connect with others. Don’t be afraid to experiment with different styles and themes. Give yourself the freedom to take creative risks. Your art can bridge gaps and foster understanding among people with diverse experiences. Just remember to stay true to your vision and values. That’s what makes your work stand out and be compelling.
