Even when the body is broken, a certain inner strength emerges
With a career spanning more than two decades, German artist Markus Guentner has established himself as a prolific and ever-steady voice in the ambient-electronic scene, crafting soundscapes and film scores that inhabit the space between the metaphysical and the emotional. In this interview, Markus reflects on the evolution of his creative process, offering tremendous depth of insight and revealing how albums like Onda and Black Dahlia emerged from the intersections of mood-driven exploration and unforeseen, fated life events. Black Dahlia, his latest and perhaps most introspective release to date, is shaped by personal health challenges and thus infused with a commendably stoical spirit, paving way for an entirely new and remarkably philosophical engagement with his craft. Here, Markus is poised to share with us the intimate stories behind his musical evolution and the personal Weltanschauung which continues to inform the consistency behind his highly expansive creative output.
Your music often feels like a sonic exploration of the unknown, in which space and time dissolve into expansive, ethereal realms. When you're in the studio, what are you seeking to express or uncover through sound? Is there a particular feeling or concept that guides you, or do you let the music unfold naturally as you work?
MG: That definitely sounds like an accurate description of my music - a “sonic exploration of the unknown, in which space and time dissolve into expansive, ethereal realms.” I aim for exactly this kind of exploration in my music. There is, of course, always a theme running through each piece, but to allow myself to let go of certain structures, tempos and predictable events is also a big part of my creative process. My approach is a mixture of both things - exploring concepts, and "let’s just see what happens". I rarely start working on my music with a concrete idea, or a predetermined outcome of how it should sound.
When I’m at the very start of a piece, I’ll search to find the specific mood that I'm in. Once I have captured that mood, I find that everything else tends to follow along and happen naturally. So, then I’ll start to ask myself things. How can I intensify the mood? What instrumentation can I use for this? I will get very specific and focus finely on certain sounds and effects that I want to use. This is where the “flow” part of it really begins for me.
I play with various sounds and effects – some things are immediately suitable –other things I’ll find through trial and error, or by chance. Coincidences add further layers to the music and can bring that specific feeling of space and time dissolving with it. While this is all happening, it gives rise to even further ideas which I can then implement more concretely as I go deeper into working on the track. The movement and the speed of the pieces play a major role for me. I usually start without a specific tempo or beat, and so it is only the mood and the sounds that determine that tempo - often without any clues or concrete repetitive elements.
To give a specific example of my process, in the opening track of my last album Onda (Affin, 2024) the slight flickering pad in the beginning set the "tone" for the track. It wasn’t a structural idea, nor an actual concept, but more a mood/feeling thing. I started playing melodies and harmonies on top of the flickering pad and tried some different sounds and effects that gave the track a wider body and complexity. At some point, the mood became so intense that I became aware that I needed to go a bit further to disturb the harmony and softness of the track. So, I grabbed my guitar, dialled up an overdriven effect, and just played random tones. After a few minutes, everything started to sound a little bit like an orchestra warming up before a concert to me. It was through this process that the actual "arrangement" came together, and started to blur, therefore opening the boundary from a classic composition to free expression. I often have the feeling when making music that everything devours you, but at the same time, it opens you up completely.
So, the seemingly random interplay, and the approaching and receding of sounds in unpredictable waves, create a sense of open spaces and a certain endlessness of dissolving and expanding. It's the coincidence and chaos that is constantly driving the evolution of the song and turning it into something very different and special. Although you are enveloped by the atmosphere of the tracks, it also feels like a free and open space with no closed walls and nothing to hold on to. The way I create music is a natural, intuitive, and often unforeseen process - perhaps not unlike the way one feels when hearing and feeling the music too.
"Onda” beautifully encapsulates this duality; the compositions feel vast and enveloping, yet there's an intimacy to them, as though something transcendent is always just beneath the surface, ready to emerge. Do you consciously explore the tension between these opposing forces - vastness and intimacy - in your music? How do you hope your sound design resonates with listeners? Is there a particular emotional or abstract response you aim to elicit, or is it more about authoring an experience of openness and fluidity?
MG: Yes, you are right to notice this! I think that the tension between the vastness and the intimacy is exactly what makes it interesting for the listener. On the one hand, there is a sense of familiarity in the tracks because of a sense of calm and serenity that immerses and wraps around you. On the other hand, there is this vast emptiness that can feel like a complete openness that you can lose yourself in. This combination and duality gives the listener an incredible amount of scope for interpretations and impressions to associate with it.
I think my role in all of this is to simply express these possibilities in my music. When I compose and produce new pieces, I do it first and foremost for myself. There are of course certain approaches or methods (using pitch, tone sequences, harmonies, etc.) to steer the pieces in a certain direction to induce a feeling. I don't try to evoke specific emotions here - I leave that up to the listener to figure out what each track means to them. So maybe, in that sense, I am giving them lots of space to move around in with their emotions and thoughts.
In the past, there were of course certain approaches where I imagined how my pieces would be received by the audience. I had thought about how to make the listener feel the same emotion and mood as I do when I hear the song. However, I have personally found that the emotion I feel is not necessarily the same as the listener. The mood that comes out in the pieces while I'm composing them reflects my feelings and inspirations at that exact time. However, the listener is not in the same mood and associates something completely different with it or focuses on a different part - the beat or the melody might set the mood for them. Whatever surrounds and occupies them in that moment will influence how they hear the song.
Sometimes I have indulged in certain details in the song that the listener doesn't even notice. A sound design feature might feel strong to me, but then the listener hears it as being in the background - or doesn’t respond in the same way as me! Conversely, the listener might find something in the song that I wasn't even aware of, or that I deliberately composed and produced in this way without being conscious of it having a certain effect on them. For example, some tracks have rather brute and rough energy for me (because this corresponded to my mood when composing) but I was told that these tracks radiated an incredible melancholy, depth, and warmth. Some tracks have great emotional depth for me but don't elicit more than a “cool track” from someone. Maybe it's also because, at a deeper level, my innermost emotion and instinct led me there to counteract the “obvious” mood I was in. It could be one of the reasons why that tension is reflected in my tracks because it’s just a natural part of being human to have these contradictions and tensions within us.
Collaboration has played a significant role in your career, whether through your work with Kompakt, contributions to the Pop Ambient series, or composing for film. How have these diverse collaborations shaped your sound and pushed you outside your comfort zone? Do they enhance your personal style or deepen your exploration of sound? And for aspiring artists, how essential is it to collaborate with like-minded creatives for personal growth?
MG: Collaborations are very important to me because they are a conversation on a different level. After the three (mostly solo) ASIP albums, I wanted to create an entire album dedicated to this personal and unique dialogue that happens when you collaborate with another artist. So, I chose to do this recently by collaborating with different artists for each track of my album Kontrapunkt! It wasn't intended to be a wild collection of individual tracks, but to be a complete and unified album. At first, I was unsure of how so many different tracks, collaborating with individual artists on each one, could become one big whole. Despite the very diverse styles and different tracks, I discovered that I could keep my music identity and also let it run through everything so that it is mainly a Markus Guentner album.
Collaborations are indeed a very interesting thing for solo artists. I naturally tend to work with musicians who are going in the same direction as me or working in a similar environment. It can be a good exchange, and there is often a nice interplay. Yet, the opposite is also interesting - when you cooperate with people who don't seem to suit your musical style or approach at first glance. This can lead to many new and innovative things that you didn't even consider before. A good example is my collaboration with Heiko Badje for our “Stareaway” project. The horizons are broadened when you think outside the box and leave behind what felt safe and familiar. I like a mixture of the two things mentioned: on the one hand, I discover and learn new things; on the other hand, I delve deeper into my musical approach and position it within the collaboration as well as possible. I can connect this to my approach to soundtracks because there is a specific task to fulfill when translating visual things into music, but without moving too far away from your own artistic identity.
With “Black Dahlia” being such a pivotal release for you, I’m curious about its personal significance. What does this album represent for you on a deeper level? Are there specific experiences, emotions, or phases of your life that you’ve channelled into this work, and how do you see it reflecting your own personal journey or evolution, both as an artist and as an individual?
MG: “Black Dahlia” is clearly a different kind of album for me and a departure from soundscapes and enveloping atmospheres. The fundamental idea was to create a somewhat rougher, more experimental, and defined album. This is certainly not a "feel-good ambient" album! Don’t expect to drift off into the cozy distance. It's an introspective album that strives to break free, unravel, and explore the raw edges. Experimenting extensively with field recordings and playing around with synths and effects made me more aware of the importance of leaving things out. When I filter out certain elements to give sounds their own space, it allows them to stand apart as these statements.
The year I made “Black Dahlia” was marked by significant health issues that meant I wasn’t as mobile as I had once been. I couldn’t manage to do many things that I had previously been able to do in my life up to that point. Fortunately, my work as a musician wasn’t impacted too heavily. I didn’t do much socially; I rarely left the house, and if I did, it was mostly for a doctor’s appointment. I was constantly in a state of physical pain that I couldn’t think away or ignore. I tried to deal with it as best as I could and eventually came to terms with it.
Through this experience, I discovered that even when the body feels broken, a certain mental calm emerges. There’s an acceptance that comes with recognising you can’t control everything—no matter how much you’d like to. You can’t force things, even if you desperately wish you could. This understanding leads to an inevitable period of deep self-reflection. To a large extent (perhaps even the greatest extent) this state of mind, shaped by my circumstances and mood, was pivotal in shaping the album. It allowed “Black Dahlia” to take form, grow, and ultimately become what it is.
Drawing on your previous statements in relation to the “mood” of musical creation, I am reminded of Nietzsche’s description of the transcendental balance between the 'Apollonian' and 'Dionysian' as the foundation of art—the Apollonian representing order and clarity, and the Dionysian embodying chaos, intuition, and raw emotion. From what you've shared, your creative process seems to reflect this very tension: the precision of your sound design (Apollonian) coexisting with the unpredictability of chance and emotion (Dionysian). Do you consciously see your music as an expression of this dynamic, and do you think the listener's experience with the soundscape arts in general—especially between this notion of serenity and vast openness—mirrors an urge to transcend or perhaps even embrace the warring undercurrents of artistic expression, thus being foundational to the creation of interesting, timeless music?
MG: That’s a great description, and it feels very true! The balance between two things that couldn’t be more opposite yet are intriguingly indispensable is so fascinating! Purely “rational art” doesn’t work, and purely “emotional art” doesn’t either. If I were to create a song based solely on rational approaches, it would just be a functional product. If I were to create a song based purely on emotions, it would probably sound quite terrible and be utterly chaotic. So, this balance between the two feels obvious and necessary for me.
Of course, it’s not always easy to achieve that balance. The rational side generally focuses on the exterior (the visible elements and the craftsmanship of a song) while the emotional side is more about looking inward, exploring private and often more vulnerable places. Finding the balance between exactly what, and how much of myself I’m capable of sharing is challenging, and it’s even harder to explain how those decisions are made.
Fundamentally, music and art are about personal perception - what is heard, seen, or created - as both the artist and the listener/viewer. Naturally, I can assess and explain music and art objectively and rationally to some extent, but their deeper essence is on a completely different level that’s beyond language. What seems meaningless to me, or fails to capture me emotionally, might be the greatest and most profound work for someone else - and, of course, vice versa. There is always music and art that defies perfect, classical, or traditional schemas but is still highly appreciated and successful in its own way for being original and unorthodox.
What is the foundation of timeless music? Is something magnificent and an instant classic simply because it captures the zeitgeist? Possibly. Whether it will endure the test of time can’t be predicted at that moment, but there’s often an underlying feeling or knowing when you encounter something brilliant and magnificent. When it comes to taste and judgment in art and music, I am confident in my ability to assess things. I’m very clear about what I like or don’t like, and I trust my intuition. There’s music and art that I personally enjoy, but I’m aware they might resonate only within a certain time. Also, there’s music and art I don’t particularly enjoy but can sense it as being a good piece and recognise that it has the substance and potential to endure.
What is interesting about creating music is all the decisions you make while writing, editing, and arranging it. Do I follow trends and create things just because they’re currently popular? Do I let myself be guided by my own drive and give priority to my thoughts and emotions? Do I succumb to the egoic “I want to be heard” mentality? I could compose and produce an album within a short time without any problems, but what’s the point if I don’t really have something to say or there’s no true expression of myself in it?
It’s important for me to create without pressure or burden of I must… I should… someone’s waiting on me for this, and so forth. If I don’t feel the urge to make new music for a year, that’s fine. If I compose two albums in two months, that’s also fine! There’s nothing worse than doing things just because you feel obliged, or others are doing it this way, or because it’s what is expected of you. Your own rhythm is what truly matters.
Looking ahead, what new territories or techniques are you excited to explore in your music? How do you approach maintaining your distinctive style while evolving creatively over time? Are there any trends in the ambient-electronic or soundscape genres that intrigue you, or upcoming collaborations and projects that might push the boundaries of your artistic expression? Finally, what advice do you have for aspiring soundscapers looking to expand upon their legacy?
MG: The next project to be released is my “Black Dahlia” album on AFFIN. This feels different for me, and I am curious to hear how people respond to this one. I'm also working on the new Guentner + Spieth album to follow up after our debut album “Overlay”. I'll also be working on other collaborations and solo projects this year. There is a new live show in the works, as I haven't actively played live for a long time, and so I will be devoting time to this in 2025.
The trilogy of the “Theia”, “Empire”, and “Extropy” albums released on the US label A Strangely Isolated Place contain the inspirations, ideas, emotions, and approaches I described: concrete realisations, coincidences, and that flow. In addition, the long period of time, from 2015 to 2021, also demonstrates the changes and expansions in my music and this continual process of creating it. The basic elements and my personal style are very evident in these albums. If I had to choose one song right now that represents my style best, it would be “Everywhere from the Extropy” album, for which I made a video, in addition to there being a kind of mega-mix trilogy of albums available via A Strangely Isolated Place. *
I'm always trying to discover new things and am a very curious and inquisitive person, be it by listening to other new and old music, new hardware, software, etc. I enjoy this constant, never-ending journey of discovery. If you keep your sense of curiosity, then you will always be intrigued by all the new things being released. My only advice to aspiring musicians is this: You must be true to yourself. It must be real. Don't be afraid of making mistakes or failing. Just try out and discover new things. Enjoy yourself and let it be fun!
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