How was this song born: with an image, a phrase, a melody... or something else?
The album was born in the middle of the pandemic, while I was trying to bring out ideas on the piano. I remember perfectly that I started recording some ambient layers that fascinated me; it was very different from anything I had done before, and I decided to save that demo as “Then the Ashes Float,” a name that really stuck with me. I realized that it had to be something more than just a song or a demo.
Before this, I had an experimental electronic music project. However, I always had the urge to bring together my training as a pianist and my deep love for folk, contemporary classical and impressionist arrangements, and jazz, which ultimately led me to completely change my path as a composer.
I’ve always had a fixation with nature: how a plant mutates into a flower, or how leaves fade in order to survive certain seasons; all of this happening right before our eyes. Its “death” isn’t really death, but rather a mutation of itself, a way to adapt and look back at the past with peace.
Little by little, as I encountered more references like the films of Miyazaki and their music, the cinema of Ryusuke Hamaguchi, electronic music such as Leon Vynehall’s, Nothing is Still, and folk like De Todas las Flores from Natalia Lafourcade, among others, I wanted to tell a story in which the main character notices a heron in the distance, among the mountains.
Strangely, something tells them they must go where it is. In trying to follow it, they face several dangers that they must leap over and “fly” above; they have to leave their fears behind, look back with love, and realize how fleeting the past is, so they can move with the wind, die, and reemerge as floating ashes. As a concept, I think the album deals with death—not so much physical death, but spiritual death, which is necessary in order to rise again, to bloom, and to float.
Who worked or collaborated on this song and how did they contribute to its creation?
This entire project has been self-managed—from composition, arrangement, production, recording, editing, and mixing. I’ve always wanted to release a long-form project that was completely managed by me creatively. The only part I wasn’t involved in was the mastering of the songs, which was done by Sebastian Garrido.
How long did it take to take its final form?
Roughly four years—from the initial concept and first idea to experimenting with different sounds and textures.
Is there any direct reference or influence (another song, book, movie) that is present in this song?
I think all of Hayao Miyazaki’s films have been a pillar in my development as an artist. Also Drive my car by Ryusuke Hamaguchi; De Todas Las Flores from Natalia Lafourcade; Windswept Adan from Ichiko Aoba; Quebrada from Mariana Travacio; and impressionist music like that of Debussy and Ravel , which shows the beauty within the incidental, giving voice to things as fleeting as the wind, the water, or simply the act of seeing a vast landscape. In the same way, contemporary classical compositions such as Piano Concerto Op. 67 “Memo Flora” by Takashi Yoshimatsu. Finally, the electronic and eclectic music of Mabe Fratti, and Nekkuja from Marina Herlop.
What other songs or projects are coming up next?
For now, the plan is to keep promoting the album and to assemble a full-band concert presenting the album in its entirety.
Which composers, musicians, bands, producers, and studios would you like to collaborate with in the future?
I would love to collaborate with Edgar Bajo el Agua, Mabe Fratti, Estrella de Sol, Diles que no me maten and Clothing. Looking further into the future, my dream is to collaborate with Natalia Lafourcafe or Marina Herlop.
Photography by Juan Soledad and Mario Arzave
He tries to rediscover the boundaries of sound by drawing inspiration from folk, contemporary classical music, and experimental music, and seeks to tell fantasy stories through it.