Name: Aleksander Kostopoulos
Occupation: Producer, audiovisual artist, drummer, composer
Nationality: Norwegian
Recent release: Aleksander Kostopoulos's new album Klangre is out via Beatservice.

If you enjoyed this Aleksander Kostopoulos interview and would like to know more about his music, visit him on Instagram, Facebook, and Soundcloud.  



When I listen to music, I see shapes, objects and colours. What happens in your body when you’re listening? Do you listen with your eyes open or closed?

I still remember the feeling I had when music "hit" me for the first time. I was sitting in the basement of my childhood home, playing drums along with a song on my mom’s stereo. I must have been around 14 or 15.

I can’t put the feeling into words—and maybe that’s the whole point. But the music reached me then, and it still does.

I think I listen with my whole body—with my eyes open and closed. I move, I sit still. Music has given me so much, and it just keeps on giving.

How do listening with headphones and listening through a stereo system change your experience of sound and music?

Both experiences mean a lot to me, just in different ways and at different times.

I actually love listening to music through the in-ear monitors I use for live performances. Since they’re closed and block out most external noise, I think they help bridge the gap between playing on stage and simply sitting at home and listening.

They’re not hi-fi by any means, but they give me a sense of being fully immersed in the music—which is something I truly appreciate.

Tell me about some of the albums or artists that you love specifically for their sound, please.

I absolutely love Jon Hopkins' album Singularity.

It’s one I’ve listened to countless times, yet I still discover new sounds and moods in it to this day.



Another album is remember by Ólafur Arnalds. When my son was one year old, he used to wake up very early in the morning. I would put on this album, and we would often just sit together in silence, eating breakfast and listening to the music.

Those are moments I will carry with me forever.

[Read our Ólafur Arnalds interview]

Do you experience strong emotional responses towards certain sounds? If so, what kind of sounds are these and do you have an explanation about the reasons for these responses?

Yes, absolutely! I'm very drawn to drums, but for some reason, I tend to prefer them when they’re heavily processed or blended with electronic sounds. I don’t have a great explanation for why that is, but I think it has to do with wanting to hear something unfamiliar—or at least something that feels like it's exploring new territory.

At the same time, I love the combination of strings and synths. In general, I think I’m often moved by sounds where the organic meets the digital.

Have you ever been in spaces with extreme sonic characteristics, such as anechoic chambers or caves? What was the experience like?

Many years ago, I played a concert with a band called Adjagas inside a silo tank in northern Norway. The reverb inside had been measured at 18 seconds, which made for a truly unique experience. We had to arrive several days in advance just to get used to playing in that space.

The hardest part was actually talking—sounds just melted into each other and disappeared. But it was an incredibly exciting experience, and I think it turned out to be a pretty cool concert.

What are among your favourite spaces to record and play your music?

I have a small studio not too far from home where I record and compose most of my music. It’s nothing fancy—I haven’t even done anything special to the room—but it just feels right to work there. My last three solo albums, Oftania, FolaNero, and Klangre, were all recorded in that space.

That being said, I also love working on my music wherever I am, using just my laptop. I create a lot of music while traveling—on airplanes, in airports, and in hotel rooms. And quite a bit at my kitchen table.

In fact, the vocals for my song “obreAng” from Klangre were recorded in my kitchen—simply because a colleague was using my studio that day.



Do music and sound feel “material” to you? Does working with sound feel like you're sculpting or shaping something?

Yes, I think so. But it’s something that has developed more in recent years as I’ve started producing and composing myself. Early in my career, when I worked as a freelance drummer, I had less of a sense of shaping the music in that way.

Now that I produce, compose, and track everything myself, I definitely feel more like a sculptor. I love that moment when everything just clicks—when you either create or discover the sounds that fit together, giving the music new energy and direction.

I especially feel this when mixing my music. I do my own rough mixes before sending them off for final mixing and mastering, and it’s something I’m constantly working to improve. It helps me learn more about myself, my taste, and what I like or don’t like.

Even if I never end up mixing everything entirely on my own, diving deep into the sonic details makes complete sense to me.

How important is sound for our overall well-being and in how far do you feel the acoustic health of a society or environment is reflective of its overall health?

I believe that sounds and music play a huge role in many of our lives.

In my apartment, there was a small issue with the ventilation system above the kitchen—every now and then, it would produce a very faint whistling sound. It's just a small thing, but I had this constant noise in my home for a couple of months and I could really feel the tension and stress growing inside of me.

On the other hand, I also experience firsthand what music does for me in my daily life. It brings me calm, joy, friendships, connections, and memorable experiences. It helps me process things and find acceptance. And I believe many others feel the same way.

Sound, song, and rhythm are all around us, from animal noises to the waves of the ocean. What, if any, are some of the most moving experiences you've had with these non human-made sounds?

The ocean! Definitely the ocean. I love watching and listening to the waves as they crash onto the shore.

There’s something truly majestic about it. It helps me stay present in the moment, and often, the small everyday stresses that can feel bigger than they really are just fade away—if only for the short time I get to be near the sea.

Tinnitus and developing hyperacusis are very real risks for anyone working with sound. Do you take precautions in this regard and if you're suffering from these or similar issues – how do you cope with them?

Yes, I started protecting my hearing at a very young age.

I grew up in a family where many of us were involved in music, and I think it was my mom who first warned me to be careful with my hearing when I started going to rock concerts in the city. So I’ve always been conscious of it, using earplugs or hearing protection around loud sounds.

Playing concerts with in-ear monitors does take away some of the natural feel of the room, but at the same time, it allows me to lower the volume and protect my hearing. I also make a habit of both listening to and composing music at low volumes.

That said, despite all the precautions I’ve taken, I’ve still found myself in situations with dangerously loud sound—either from sudden feedback in a PA system or prolonged exposure where I didn’t have the best protection available.

I don’t have tinnitus or similar issues, but I wouldn’t be surprised if my hearing is slightly worse than average for my age, simply due to all the sound exposure over the years. Anything else would actually surprise me.

We can surround us with sound every second of the day. The great pianist Glenn Gould even considered this the ultimate delight. How do you see that yourself and what importance does silence hold?

Yes, I definitely see sound and music as a gift, but like most things in life, I need balance.

After immersing myself in a lot of sound and music for a while, I find that silence becomes even more important—I appreciate it more when I finally turn the sound off. And the same goes the other way around—music and sound feel even more powerful after a period of silence.

I see sound and silence as complementary forces—they create balance and enhance each other.