Since the end of 2017, my main hobby is writing research papers in mathematics (I have published about 20 articles on academic journals and have two under peer review). However, at this moment of my life, I simply don't have the energies to keep on pursuing it on a regular basis. That's why in 2022 I was looking for a more relaxing hobby. Music seemed an obvious choice: I have played on and off piano and keyboards since I was six, and one of my most formative musical experiences was playing in a metal cover band in 2008-2012. This time around, however, I didn't (and still don't) have the time for committing to a live band, so I needed to figure out how I could to finish songs on my own and in my spare time. It made sense to look for a genre that was as close to "DIY guitarless metal with synths" as possible. Something similar to this band called Summoning that I used to listen to back in the day...
I don't remember exactly when I discovered the Dungeon Synth tag, but the music sat at the intersection of what I wanted to attempt on my own, and what I could reasonably achieve. As a nice bonus, I loved the escapism that comes with the territory, and I hoped to reignite the spark of the fantastic adventures of my youth through music about ancient mysteries, a nostalgic past that never was, and stories half-forgotten. If you look closely, all these themes are present in Wanderings and Vistas, my debut, and in The roads of the Old Empire, its sequel.
After releasing Wanderings and Vistas, I was already working on songs with titles such as 'Lady of Winter', 'Ancient Nightmare', and similar fantasy images. It's no wonder that, at the beginning, the Fantasy Synth tag felt an even better description of my music, as I've recounted in the journal entry on Evergreen.
However, on the 2022 winter solstice Bartizan Chill shared a very intriguing challenge: creating a winter synth album on the theme of memory, using also the artist's own voice as an instrument. A few days later, a sudden resolution crossed my mind: I was going to put on hold my current project, and was going to record and release an album on Alzheimer's disease. But wait, what's fantastical and escapist about such a horrible illness? At first, I tried to tell myself that I was going to refer obliquely to Alzheimer's through fantasy imagery, but that was probably self-delusion. The more I worked on The Last Embers of the Fire, the more I delved deep into the reality of the illness as seen by patients and caregivers. With the exception of Pilgrim, every song on that album was inspired by poems written by people who experienced Alzheimer's first hand or had a loved one who did.
Pilgrim, on the other hand, has a story of its own. Since I'm able to remember, I've always been a sickly child. At the end of the 90s it was discovered I had a cardiopathy, that eventually led to a heart transplant in 2001. The surgery, however, wasn't the end of the story but the beginning of a new one, whose chapters range from exhilarating to daunting, passing through every emotion in between. Pilgrim was born about 15 years ago as a way of expressing some of my feelings, fears and yearnings tied to the wild ride that has been my transplant journey. Listening to it, and especially to the chorus, still gives me the goosebumps and, on some days, almost brings me to tears.
In summer 2022, I starded working on The roads of the Old Empire, thinking that I had channeled into The Last Embers of the Fire all the stories about illness I needed to tell. How wrong I was! While working on The roads, I was also gathering new tools for my next music projects. I'm sure you've noticed my love for pitch-shifted delay and reverb, evident in Golem Dreams and present also in my subsequent releases.
Right after Golem Dreams erupted out of me, I also found a certain FX for finally getting a satisfactory "guitarless metal" feel, and I knew instantly what I wanted my first of such albums to sing about. Sumarið Þegar Hjartað Söng, Icelandic for The Summer When the Heart Sang, was mostly composed in two frantic weeks of August, with some final tweaks in September. If Golem Dreams erupted out of me, Sumarið burned inside until I finished putting it into music.
I could talk about this release for days... In this journal I want to focus on the fact that, once I found a suitable metal-adjacent voice, there was no doubt that I would use it to sing about the most important moments of my life.
After Sumarið Þegar Hjartað Söng, I embarked on further music explorations but, invariably, every once in a while I revisited various aspects of my story. Arrhythmias evokes some haunting, even harrowing episodes, and I am currently working on a sequel to Sumarið Þegar Hjartað Söng, that will continue the emotional tale of my transplant journey.
But I simply cannot stop there, and need to linger a little longer on these themes. All the years of medical procedures and follow-ups... Everything is adding up to the point that, some days, I am getting overwhelmed by all I have dealt with. And there will be further challenges ahead, even if I probably have a few more years of respite. In this turmoil, ᚼᛁᛆᚱᛐᛆᚿᛋ is becoming more that I have consciously envisioned when I started the project: a haven, but also the right place to give all these stories and feelings a voice.
Which brings me to today's topic. All of my life I have struggled in understanding my identity as a person with a disability. We live in a time where diversity is allegedly valued (despite the many challenges diverse people face daily, even in the supposedly open-minded West) but, before ᚼᛁᛆᚱᛐᛆᚿᛋ, I've never found that my diversity mattered. Of course, my health journey is what made me who I am, and I fully embrace it. Other than that, however, my studies, my job, my friendships were never much influenced by my supposedly diverse point of view. After all, a mathematical theorem doesn't change based on who states it. With music, at last, I found a place where it makes sense to bring in my story with all its sides, and not just the bright one of a "successful" transplant (as if success didn't mean that there were many more hard moments than one could imagine at first). And I have to admit that I needed a place like this, where I can take my time to explore and express everything that happened, without having to gloss over anything.
In hindsight, none of what I said comes as a wonder. In some Nordics languages, hjartans (meaning 'of the heart') can be used in medical terms such as 'lífæðar hjartans' (coronary arteries, if I'm not mistaken). So, the whole project started with a name that blurs the lines between fantasy and reality. Now, I consciously and fully embrace such themes, at last.
I'm not here to brag about my unique voice, however. Without the example of other artists who are pushing the envelope, evolving "the Dungeon Synth sound" (if there's such a thing) and concepts in unexpected ways, I would have found it impossible to gather the courage to bring themes dear to my heart in my music. Here's a short list, but I could go on and on for a long time...
Bartizan Chill, who promotes dungeon rushes (that inspired The Last Embers of the Fire), is no stranger to creating atypical Dungeon Synth on atypical themes.
Evergreen (an advocate for a diverse and inclusive Dungeon Synth landscape) and Ithildin move effortlessly between genres. Evergreen, for instance, is equally good at composing top-notch Dungeon Synth, metal and techno, while Ithildin isn't afraid of showing his mastery of prog-rock, with all sort of experimental influences.
Desolazione Rurale has a similar range, and he shows it by blending effortlessly genres within single songs. Verde Vulcanico, moving from straight electronica to metal and back again, is one of my favourite. And his latest Magia Naturalis is full of similar genre-blending music.
Lorewise, Gray Friar is one of the artist that brings unique themes to Dungeon Synth. An ex-scholar of medieval European history, he once told me that this project was born out of "respect for religion because it can be a beautiful thing". And it really shows through his music.
Probably, the biggest influence on me was Disquieting. Empty Throne Amongst The Stars was one of the first Dungeon Synth albums I found back in 2022, and it resonated with me in so many ways. First, the music is mind-blowing: a unique and very personal blend of synths and electric guitar, bass, and drums (if I'm not mistaken, Avery plays and records everything live, no samples were used). And the compositions are amazing: they capture perfectly the feeling of wandering this empty place in the cosmos, in search for meaning and, maybe, solace. Second, the art (also by Avery, who is also a top-notch visual artist) is so unique and fits the music perfectly (speaking of art, shout out to my wife who, despite not liking most of my music, paints me most of my covers and helps me pick the art for the covers she doesn't paint herself). Third, and most important, Empty Throne Amongst The Stars is dedicated to Avery's mother, who passed away in 2021. Putting into music such grief... Since I first listened to this album, I gained infinite respect for Avery and for his art.
I want also to mention a very small project, Journeyer. With his one release, he managed to express the joys and sorrows of daily life in music in a way that I find wonderful.
I am grateful also to everyone that encouraged me along the way: without you, I wouldn't have dared showing so much of myself. Special thanks to the usual suspects for your friendship and support! (If we've talked about music and/or something more, you're one of the usual suspects, even if you don't give yourself the credit for it ;)
Finally, this journal is partly inspired by Lord Batarkia's video How to "Dungeon Synth" | 7 tips for beginners. Tip #1 is great for old-timers as well as beginners.
Until next time, may you find your own voice and let it sing unrestrained.
ᚼᛁᛆᚱᛐᛆᚿᛋ, June 2024