What are the intersections of artistic practices spanning composition, visual, and performance art? Damsel Elysium shares their unique perspectives on how these mediums inform one another, the profound influence of nature on their work and the importance of finding new ways to communicate. Their insights reveal a deep connection to the world around us, challenging traditional norms and embracing a holistic approach to art and sound.
hube: Your artistic practice spans composing, visual, and performance art. How do these different mediums influence and inform each other in your creative process?
Damsel Elysium: Well, that’s quite a tough question, I think. Fundamentally, I see them all as the same. The visual world and the sonic world are very much united for me. If I’m scoring something or writing music, scenes are happening in my head as colours, as pictures that I want to show. So when I am working with sound, I always want to present a visual world with it. Umm, I also studied film, so that has influenced how my music always has a narrative to it. Because I’m thinking in scenes and stories rather than just the sound itself. That being said, though, I’m very drawn to the spontaneity of it as well. And sound is also something that I find a lot of sensory joy from. For me, they can’t exist without each other. They’re kind of one organism.
h: You beautifully compare human relationships to the roots of a tree and the mycorrhiza in the ground. How do you envision these unions, and how did this perspective influence the production and lyrical elements of your work?DE: We are all natural beings and communicate in unique ways. When I learned about trees using their roots to communicate and share resources, it felt very communal and right. It made sense. You know, it was surprising and amazing but also reassuring. All of nature, including us, has a form of communication and sharing resources. I wanted to illustrate that through my imagery. Trees communicate with each other, but we humans can also communicate with nature, the trees, and the sea. Visually, I wanted to represent that by making myself appear as though I was merged with nature, whether it was becoming the tree. Like my EP cover has branch hands. And other elements where I’m merging with the sea or other elements. It was about representing myself as part of nature, not just a subject with a pretty background but as part of me, growing with it and communicating with it.
h: Your work is described as an exploration of unconventional communication. As a neurodivergent artist, how does your experience inform the way you communicate through your music and visuals, especially in creating spaces for stillness?
DE: For me, because I’ve always struggled to communicate with people verbally, I quickly realised that my way of communicating was through other mediums. I always say that my instruments are my voice box because I can channel so much of my emotion and experience through them. They become my speaking voice. So even the way I play my instruments isn’t traditional; it’s about expression. When I am creating space or working in a performance, I’m trying to tap into a part of me that wants to say things, whether it’s questions or wisdom or talking about my experience, but not using words. I’m using energy. I think it’s important for people to find a language that isn’t just text or verbal because that’s limiting. For me, I have so much to say, so many visions in my head, and ways of describing things without the right words. Sound and visuals allow me to express emotions that you can’t describe. I hope that when I’m holding space and communicating with an audience, they feel what I’m feeling. It’s a tool for empathy, using feeling rather than just verbal responses.
h: You explore decolonisation in your work. Could you elaborate on what this means to you, and how it manifests in your approach to sound, composition, and the rejection of traditional musical notation?
DE: I think it comes from wanting to be a virtuoso violinist, which was my dream as a kid. But I realised the training spaces weren’t welcoming because of elitism, racism, and ableism. I quit music at 15 because of the pressure. When I was 19, I recognised the trauma of that world. I couldn’t even listen to a violin without crying or getting upset because my potential was ignored. The Black Lives Matter movement helped me understand my experience. I discovered other artists using classical instruments differently and realised the classical system wasn’t the only way. Decolonising my music practice involves breaking performance rules in institutional spaces and rejecting traditional norms. I also did a podcast on decolonising the music industry, speaking to different artists about it. It’s a long journey of unlearning and redefining.
h: Whether from a scientific or spiritual perspective, sound is often considered a foundational element. What is your take on the idea of sound as a fundamental aspect of existence?
DE: Sound is both a spiritual and scientific foundation. People don’t realise how much they use sound to navigate the world. Pauline Oliveros said, ‘Your ears tell you where your eyes are to look’. We hear a sound first and then look. I use sound to navigate and communicate with the world. I’m fascinated by the science of sound and how it travels. Everything makes a sound, even seemingly silent trees make noise when you use a hydrophone. Sound is fundamental to existence.
h: Is there a particular sound or composition you aspire to create but haven’t been able to yet? What challenges or experiments do you envision in bringing this unrealised sonic vision to life?
DE: There are so many. Right now, I want to create instruments with unheard sounds. I don’t usually have a sound in my head first; I find inspiration in the real world. Capturing spontaneous city sounds that often go unnoticed fascinates me. Moments when a train and a voice harmonise, for example. But capturing these requires carrying a microphone all the time, hoping to catch something amazing.
h: The creation of Whispers From Ancient Vessels seems to have been a profound exploration of sound and nature. Can you delve into the specific moments or experiences that inspired the EP and shaped its sonic direction?
DE: The project was initially meant to be a film. After finishing film school, I collaborated with a friend to create this visual and sonic world. It was inspired by a tree that had died. I had done a photo shoot with this magnificent copper beech tree, and when I returned two years later, it had collapsed. It became about grieving and asking the tree about its wisdom. Books like The Hidden Life of Trees and Bernie Krause’s video on the sounds of trees were inspiring. Although the film didn’t happen, the sound recordings of my conversations with trees became an EP. It was also influenced by my discovery of the double bass during lockdown, exploring its textures. The EP represents my self-discovery and inspiration.
h: In the context of the Youthquake project, how do you perceive the changing dynamics in fashion and culture, particularly with the influence of Gen Z creators? How does your own artistic expression align with or challenge these shifts?
DE: I grew up with a mom interested in fashion, so it was natural for me. Fashion is about self-expression and communicating change. YOUTHQUAKE was about giving Gen Z artists a visual voice. Fashion impacts history and its narrative. My artistic expression is about challenging spaces and creating a more expressive world. It’s about not fitting in but creating my own space.
h: Vanessa Mae, Oliver Coates and FKA Twigs have all played roles in shaping your sonic exploration. Could you delve deeper into specific performances or aspects of their work that left a lasting impact on your approach to sound?
DE: Seeing Oliver Coates at the Jazz Cafe in 2019 changed my life. It was before I started music again, and he used classical instruments in an alternative way, creating a world I wanted to be part of. Vanessa-Mae was a childhood inspiration; her CD encouraged me to practice violin. Despite her later career change, her hard work inspired me. FKA Twigs pushes herself to the brink, always trying new things. We need new perspectives, and she communicates a new world where people feel seen.
h: What are your aspirations for the future, and how do you envision the future of sound? Will it be filled with AI presence or will it stay human?
DE: I hope it stays human. AI is an interesting tool but is often used wrong, especially in music. Music should be about connection and humanness, not something copyable and easy. AI makes music more of an entertainment tool, which I have mixed feelings about. Technology has advanced music in amazing ways, but things seem to be taking a turn for the worse. We don’t have a safe space for musicians, and AI might make it harder for artists to exist.
Imagery courtesy of the artist
