Carlos Ferreira makes music for everyone. The Brazilian composer uses an array of sound sources but always has an ear toward soundworlds that invites listeners in. While I’ve admired Ferreira’s work from a distance for a while, a lot of what he communicates in this conversation resonates deeply with me. His approach to bringing others to this music, to find connection through emotional responses to sound, is something I am always striving for, too. Learning about these aspects of Ferreira’s work only deepens my appreciation for this music, and unlocks new layers to these immersive sonic worlds.
His album, Isolation, which we talk about a fair amount here, is out now on AKP Recordings. I highly recommend it.
First, I’d love to hear about some of your earliest memories and experiences with music. Was there a lot of music around you growing up? What are some of your first memories?
When I was a kid – like 4-6 years old – my favorite toy was a portable cassette recorder that belonged to my dad. I remember spending whole afternoons recording the sound of my voice, as well as the sounds of my home environment. I believe my interest in exploring sounds has been with me ever since. Today I realize that I was already making music back then. So I think it was a natural path to follow. I don’t believe it was something I searched for, it was just there. And I’m just trying to keep feeling that sense of wonder.
When did you start gaining an interest in playing music and creating your sounds? And what was the impetus to actually start playing?
Before playing, there was a fascination with listening to music. There is no way to dissociate this. I remember spending whole afternoons sitting on the carpeted floor in the living room, in front of the speakers, listening to whatever was playing on the radio. The next thing I knew, I was asking my parents for a guitar!
So… The process of playing music for me has always been linked to creation. That’s certainly the central impetus, the core of it all.
Making music is something organic, like breathing. You are immersed in an ocean of sounds. More than playing, I’m interested in listening. With every cell of my body.
I think this means I can’t really pinpoint a path that led me to what I do. It’s like a rhizome with so many branches, and I can’t define it exactly.
How did you find your way into more experimental music and sound?
Curiosity. I’m just curious about sounds. About how they affect us, and how we can creatively reframe and contextualize them. As Conny Plank said in an interview, “Any noise has the potential to be music.”
I get REALLY uncomfortable when experimental music is treated as something elitist or excessively intellectual. I think this is a power project that should be questionable. None of us have power over sounds. They are all around us. We feel them, our body vibrates.
So for me, it’s exactly the opposite. What is considered experimental is precisely the most egalitarian and collective way that can unite us around something. I have no interest in creating something that needs to be explainable. I want to create something that can be felt.
So let’s talk about your latest record, the wonderful Isolationism. It’s described as a transitional album, marking the start of a new phase of your artistic exploration. Can you delve into the inspirations and motivations behind this shift and how it is reflected in the sonic landscape of the album?
First of all, Isolationism, for me, is an album of extreme vulnerability. I embraced my own vulnerability and uncertainty and sought to expand my sonic palette through different creative processes.
So I just felt like I wanted to do something different, look for wonder in other things. I don’t like feeling like I “know what I’m doing.” The chance of creating something different when you have absolute control over the process is zero. When we don’t know what we’re doing, the uncertainty and discomfort of stepping into unknown territory makes us try to look at things in other ways, making new decisions.
Isolationism symbolizes and in some ways encapsulates this longing.
The album utilizes a variety of instruments and atmospheric field recordings. How do you approach the integration of these diverse elements, and how do all those elements go toward conveying the themes of frequency, resonance, and sound vibration?
In this album I used sampling techniques a lot, using organic sounds and manipulating them in order to explore new forms of resonance and vibration. My choices were very much based on filling different frequency spectrums, within what our limited listening range can perceive. But… It was an album that I made in a maximum of 2 weeks, it was an immersive and very intense process. I don’t remember rationalizing about it…
The use of space is highlighted as a significant aspect of the record, too, and is something that really grabbed me. Can you elaborate on how you conceptualize and utilize space in the creation of the album, and what impact it has on the overall listening experience?
When you use spaces and silences as ornaments and expressive arrangements, you are basically saying to the active listener “whether or not you fill this space with whatever you want,” or “harmonize this with your own sound environment.”
This is something I always look for when I’m creating. I want to propose an experience that is democratic, and that allows for a non-hierarchical space of perception. I believe in the listener as a composer, as someone who creates something while listening and interpreting it according to their feelings.
Another thing that stands out to me is the narrative form of the album and how it all flows. I am such an obsessive when it comes to album sequencing and I think you’ve done a tremendous job with it here. How did you approach the sequencing of the tracks, and what was the thought process behind balancing all the contrasting elements?
I have a somewhat simple narrative logic. I like to obey the flow of ideas, according to the moment they arise. So… The tracks on Isolationism are organized according to the time in which they were created. That simple!
In this way… the tracklist is almost like a diary. The contrasts, non-linearities, and differences between the tracks are like photographs of different feelings and moments.
The collaborative nature of the album is mentioned, with contributions from Echo Ho, Lucas Protti, and Manami Kakudo. How did these collaborations come about, and how did the contributors’ input influence the overall texture and atmosphere of Isolationism?
Echo Ho and Manami Kakudo were friends that I met through mutual contacts, and that I had the privilege of creating a good friendship with. They are incredible artists.
A few years ago I participated in a sound art project with Echo and from then on I felt really connected to her artistic statements, expression, and wisdom. Since then, we’ve had countless video conversations, and we’re planning something in person together as soon as possible and viable. As for Manami, I’m a huge fan of her work as a composer. Her participation in the album was quite experimental – some time ago she had posted a video playing a rare pipe organ, and we talked a lot about the beauty of that sound. I then decided to sample the sound from the video, record it on cassette tape, and make several collages.
Lucas is a great friend here in my city, very talented, and plays countless instruments. When I was making the track “Living a Metaphor” the clarinet melody came to my head. So I wrote it in MIDI and then decided to invite him to record it. I loved the result!
Your work has always been concerned with the nature of listening, and with Isolationism you talk about harmonizing with the space we inhabit. How do you envision the listener’s role in experiencing this album, and what do you hope they take away from the immersive sonic journey?
As I mentioned in a previous question, I always want to do something non-hierarchical. Artistically, one of my principles is to propose something that does not obtain power structures, that put the artist on a pedestal. I hate it and do not believe that.
I am interested in creating listening universes where coexistence prevails, which allows each listener to compose those sounds while listening. That you can shape your own experience according to your own feelings.
Looking forward, how do you see this transitional phase influencing your future work? Are there specific themes, techniques, or collaborations that you are excited to explore in upcoming projects?
Right now I’m working on a new album, as well as some live soundtrack projects for music sessions for silent films.
Isolationism is a transitional album in terms of desires, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that the next albums will sound like developments of what was proposed there. The element that will unify them, and that in a way unites all my albums, is the search for wonder and catharsis through sound.
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