• Creating space with Adriaan de Roover

    Creating space with Adriaan de Roover

    Artist and composer Adriaan de Roover treats music-making as a portal into self-discovery. Through subtle sonic transformations, each release marks his journey and embodies a new sound, feeling, or place that resonates with a specific period in time from his life. This theme is particularly present in his latest record, Other Rooms, where he reflects on “the different paths I could have taken, the different versions of myself.” 

     

    Adriaan discussed with us the importance of cultivating space, both within music and in life, as a means of finding connection and giving shape to an evolving sense of self.

    Every album you release explores a new sound. What do you feel ties them all together?


    I’m happy that you say it sounds different. For me, it’s like following a continuous journey through different phases of my life. I don’t see clear boundaries between albums. It feels more like a steady exploration of new territories, all connected by a thread of curiosity about the sounds I’ve been exploring for the past decade.

     

    Sometimes I return to familiar sounds or ideas that sparked my interest years ago, but I’m also constantly drawn to new inspirations. It’s not like I have a clear plan for how I want my albums to sound. It happens more organically, just following my curiosity wherever it takes me.

    You introduced a more upbeat sound at your album release show in Het Bos. What inspired this musical shift?

     

    I’ve been consciously wanting to explore new sounds and ideas lately, and I think I’m contradicting myself more than before. I’m seeking more joy and playfulness because, through past projects, I’ve realized that melancholy is such a big part of what I do. It feels like my mind now wants to lean toward a sense of lightness and fun.

    Adriaan de Roover - Mood Talk - Objects & Sounds

    So, melancholy seems to come naturally to you musically. Do you find it more challenging to express joy and playfulness?

     

    I’m not sure I can force it, but I’m always happy when it happens. Avoiding melancholy is definitely more difficult for me, and maybe that’s okay. I realized this through various commissions, especially when creating a soundtrack for a documentary. It was a heavy project that lasted about three years, and layering melancholy over an already intense narrative was really confronting. I had to consciously find ways to break away from it. It’s something I have to be mindful of—not to instinctively tap into that melancholic space.

    Another element that’s very present in your music is the notion of space. Why is that important to you?

     

    I think it’s because I’m creating a space for myself. It’s like I’m carving out a place that adapts to where I am and makes me feel safe. Building this space that feels comfortable and familiar is a significant part of my music-making process.

    And do you visualize these spaces?

     

    Yes, but in a very abstract way. I like to take little adventures and explore different places. 

     

    Ten years ago, my music was more about embracing nature, but now it’s more intertwined with the urban life I’m a part of. People and man-made creations are becoming part of the soundscape. I’ve noticed more layers of human presence in the mix.

    What inspired you to start incorporating these elements into your music now?

     

    I’m not sure how intentional or conscious it is. It’s just something that started grabbing my attention. I find the contrast between comfort and anxiety fascinating, and I enjoy experimenting with these different elements. Sometimes, I use sounds that are a bit harsh, like the rumble of a metro or the screech of tram noises. The sound of cities can be really loud and unsettling, and I like to make it part of my work. It also reflects how things sound in my head at times.

    Are there other themes and concepts that show up often in your work?


    I think so, but it’s hard to pinpoint exactly. It all comes from my life experiences, thoughts, and conversations with others. Mostly, it’s a way for me to connect with myself. Especially with my latest record, Other Rooms, it’s less about conveying a specific message and more about tapping into my feelings. 

     

    It’s about creating spaces within myself and facing whatever comes up. I’m drawn to certain sounds because they challenge me, make me uncomfortable, and then I find myself searching for comfort again. It’s like stepping into the unknown or taking a leap of faith.

    Do you feel your music is becoming a more direct expression of your inner self?

     

    I think so and I’m also eager to be more direct and transparent in my expression. For example, instead of hiding sounds within layers, I might want to make them more distinct. Sometimes I enjoy the mystery of not knowing whether a sound is a guitar or a car, but lately, I’ve been gravitating towards clarity in my recordings. This connects with the idea of simplicity—making things more straightforward, both in the music itself and perhaps even with words. Maybe there’s a bit less fog and doubt inside me, and that’s also translating into the sound.

    Your latest work features more spoken word and singing. Are you planning to explore that even further?

    Yes, I’m also singing more during live shows now, and I’m enjoying the rawness. It can go out of tune, and that’s okay. I think this mindset even extends to using words instead of abstract sounds.

     

    At the same time, I’m feeling drawn to incorporating more beats again. I want to explore rhythm in a way that feels authentic to me. When I first started, I thought I wanted to make club music, but I guess I failed at that. I found myself gradually removing the drums during the mixing process and eventually stopped trying to include them altogether. It’s liberating because it opens up the space, allowing the music to breathe.

     

    I’m not entirely sure where this journey will lead, but I’m embracing the process and letting things unfold naturally. Who knows, maybe in a few years, people will be tempted to dance to my music again. Or maybe not.

    Adriaan de Roover - Mood Talk - Objects & Sounds

    And how do you approach working on commissioned projects?

     

    When collaborating in group settings, like a theater performance with other musicians, I find myself adapting more and learning to be functional, prioritizing the song and the collective vision over my own expression. But I still view these projects as extensions of myself and a way to express who I am. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be as interested in pursuing them. It’s something I’m still figuring out. I’ve realized I’m not particularly skilled at being purely functional. I know how to record a song in Ableton, but that doesn’t mean I can make the kind of music others create with this software. I’ve tried working on projects where I didn’t feel an emotional connection, and it just felt wrong. Something needs to stir inside me for me to truly engage with the project.

    What do you hope listeners experience or take away from your music?

     

    For me, creating music is a way to connect with myself or something deeper. I’m drawn to other people’s music for the same reason—it helps me understand and feel connected, both to myself and to something bigger. I hope that when people listen to my music, they can find that same connection within themselves or with something beyond them. Perhaps they’ll discover a sense of wonder or inspiration along the way.

     

    Pictures by Anne Verbist and Jan De Schoenmaker

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  • Crafting stories in sound with Nicolas Snyder

    Crafting stories in sound with Nicolas Snyder

    Storytelling shines throughout Nicolas Snyder’s work. With a background in writing short stories, the filmmaker, composer, and sound artist approaches creative projects with an eye for narrative detail, crafting sonic arcs and layering elements that elicit certain emotions to create a dynamic listening journey. His diverse sources of inspiration pull him in all directions, resulting in a rich body of work guided by intuition.

     

    Nicolas captures the spirit of following instinct and leading with heart. He reminds us to keep searching for the story and finding it in the everyday.

    What inspires the way you create and think about sound and music?

     

    My approach to sound and music is fluid, to be honest. It’s always evolving, both in my professional work and personal music. I don’t always have a clear vision from the start. It really depends on how I’m feeling at the moment. Sometimes I create without knowing what it will be used for. It’s like collecting various textures and colors that eventually come together to form something cohesive, like a patchwork quilt of sound.

    When listening to your albums, it’s also sometimes hard to tell where one track ends and another begins. Is that intentional?


    It’s interesting you mention that. Sometimes, the only difference between tracks is the session they were created in. I always try to connect them so they form a continuous journey.

     

    I’m close to finishing an album where, even though the tracks flow seamlessly, there’s a consistent, static mood throughout—it feels very blue to me.

    Nicolas Snyder - Mood Talk - Objects & Sounds - 1

    What made you decide to take this direction with the new album?

     

    I’ve always been drawn to the idea of a mood album. Some of my favorite records evoke a certain feeling from start to finish, and I wanted to create something similar—an album that captures a specific sound and place from beginning to end.

    How do you go about collecting and choosing sounds for your compositions?


    Oh, it’s always different. I have all sorts of things around me: lots of microphones, gongs, organ pipes, and various other strange instruments.

    I’ve got a piano in the back here that I’ve modified a bit with some gift wrapping paper to give it a crunchy, earthy sound. I recorded myself playing it for about 40 minutes and then picked out the parts I liked most. In a William S. Burroughs-esque way, I cut up and rearrange these snippets, take them out of context, and then layer synth and string elements on top. I also like to incorporate field recordings and film samples.

    I enjoy working ‘in the box’ a lot. I often use MIDI keyboards, which might not sound as glamorous as some other processes, but there’s an infinite range of possibilities in there. Many people are creating beautiful virtual instruments with detailed imperfections built into them, and I especially like to highlight those subtle nuances.

     

    But again, I’m always shifting from one thing to another. I take it day by day and don’t always know how it’s going to evolve.

    Do you plan out the concept of an album beforehand, or does it come about naturally through experimentation?

     

    Well, I often think in terms of albums and the art of making one. It’s something I’m drawn to, and it guides me. However, when I’m actually creating a piece, I don’t always know where it’s going to lead. It’s a very stream-of-consciousness approach.

     

    Often, as I’m finishing a project, I’ll create a track that deviates from the overall feel, sparking a new direction I might want to head in. Then, I’ll try to create pieces that complement it or fit well alongside it. This process serves as my compass, but I never have a clear path from point A to point Z. 

     

    Sometimes it’s straightforward, and other times, it goes all over the place.

    How does your experience in film and sound design shape the way you approach your own music?

     

    It’s just how I approach music-making. I don’t really consider myself a musician. I’m decent at playing the piano or guitar, but that’s not where I focus my practice. I like to create music that complements visual storytelling.

     

    When I create something personal, it often carries cinematic elements or a narrative arc that pokes out, even if there isn’t a specific story I’m aiming to convey. That’s just how my mind works. It’s the muscle I’ve worked out the most.

    Nicolas Snyder - Mood Talk - Objects & Sounds - 7

    It seems like creating a narrative with sound is something you’re naturally drawn to. 

     

    Yeah, it’s something I naturally gravitate towards. I initially pursued writing short stories and even got a degree in writing, although I didn’t take it further. But when I’m making music, I often think in terms of crafting a short story—conveying a complete arc, adding elements of mystery and surprise, and creating dynamic shifts. It’s not always a conscious process. It’s just how my mind works when I’m in the creative zone.

    Did you always want to bring elements of storytelling into your music?

     

    I go back and forth. In the beginning, I tried writing more traditional songs because there’s a certain beauty in familiarity. But I’m driven to create things that feel new and surprising. It’s just not exciting for me if I’m not exploring uncharted territory. That’s why there are so many surprise turns in my music. I’m constantly trying to surprise myself. It’s like walking down a corridor, about to open a door. What is the most beautiful, surprising thing I can find on the other side of that door?

    And do you imagine a movie playing in your mind when you’re creating the narrative?

     

    Not really. These are just metaphors. It’s not so much a visual experience as it is a feeling. I often think of creating sound as building a three-dimensional space—a place that doesn’t actually exist but can be imagined in a certain way.

    How has your sound evolved over the years since you started composing and producing music?

     

    I’ve gone through many phases as a music creator, and it’s hard for me to quantify what has changed. I’m in my 40s now, and it took a long time for me to reach a point where I truly understand what I’m doing as an artist, not just in music but in anything I create, whether it’s woodworking or painting. I’m content with where I am now and not in a rush to change that. Lately, I’ve been writing more traditional songs on guitar because it feels right. I’m often drawn to creating things that simply feel good, no matter the genre. I may not know exactly how to articulate it, but I recognize that feeling when it comes. These days, it’s much easier for me to identify what resonates with me.

    Do you have any rituals or routines that help you get into that creative mindset, whether for music, woodworking, or painting?

     

    No, I have to fit it into every little nook and cranny of my life. I’m quite busy with work, and I find myself traveling a lot. Still, I wouldn’t feel like myself if I didn’t do something creative.

     

    If I had to choose, my ideal scenario would be waking up with nothing planned for the day, just taking my time and eventually creating something without overthinking it. Just doing it because it feels good. But I don’t always have the time for that.

    Do you ever see yourself combining your different creative pursuits into a single, cohesive project?

     

    I would love to create tangible spaces one day, maybe through installations or similar projects. Something immersive that you can physically experience. Imagine a ramshackle structure you step into, instantly transporting you to a realm that’s a bit fantastical and primal.

    Nicolas Snyder - Mood Talk - Objects & Sounds - 5

    What’s a recent project or experience that has really moved you?

     

    I recently released an album that was a highly collaborative project with a poet named Spoon Jackson, who is serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole. 

     

    Spoon recited his poems to me over a prison phone built into the wall. I recorded our conversations using an app on my phone and then composed music around them. It was an incredibly rewarding process, and I’m immensely proud of the album. It has more of a song-to-song feel compared to my last two albums, yet it retains many similar textures.

     

    Collaborating with someone in such a beautifully limiting environment was deeply rewarding. Throughout the album, you can hear artifacts of the process, like the electronic female voice that periodically interrupts the conversations—Spoon refers to her as the “computer lady.” I also incorporated sound textures to evoke a sense of a prison dream world, as many of Spoon’s poems revolve around his dreams and fantasies—experiences he hasn’t had in the physical world since he was incarcerated at the age of 19.

    How old is he now?

     

    He’s in his seventies. He’s never had a cell phone, never been on an airplane, and never experienced many things we take for granted. Through his poetry, he’s created a beautiful dream life, though some of it is very sad and real. Yet, there’s also this vivid romance inside him that he can only express through his poetry and art. I felt it was powerful to support him in that and to paint his dream world with music.

    Nicolas Snyder - Mood Talk - Objects & Sounds - 4

    How did you get into the project?

     

    There’s a record label that was originally called Die Jim Crow Records, named after a set of laws in the U.S. that were aimed at oppressing Black people without explicitly stating it. They’re now called FREER Records, and they work exclusively with incarcerated or recently released individuals.

     

    During COVID, the label posted that they were looking for producers and musicians to collaborate with incarcerated people. My dad had been in prison for two years, so I felt a strong connection and empathy for that world.

     

    They sent me a recording of Spoon reciting a poem, and I really liked how it turned out. I asked if they could put me in touch with him. He called me and said, ‘So I hear you’re interested in making some music together,’ and we’ve been talking ever since. That was about two to three years ago. I didn’t expect it to turn into an entire album.

    Wow, that sounds like an experience that will stay with you for a long time. Considering the immersive and intentional nature of your music, how do you envision people experiencing it? Is there a particular setting or mindset you recommend for listeners?

     

    I’d say somewhere comfortable. When I picture it, I imagine reclining on pillows. It might sound trite, but for albums like Spell of Remembrance, it’s like embarking on a psychedelic journey. You’d want to approach it with that kind of mindset. It’s not passive ambient music in the traditional sense, like Brian Eno’s idea of being as ignorable as it is interesting. I also appreciate music that doesn’t demand to be the center of attention, though some of my albums definitely command focus. I want it to feel like a trip.

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