Name: Julie Herndon
Nationality: American
Occupation: Composer, performer, producer, sound artist, educator
Current Release: Julie Herndon's new album Electronic Études is out via populist.
Recommendations on the topic of sound:
Aural Diversity (2022) edited by John Drever and Andrew Hugill. (New York: Routledge).
Autumn Leaves: Sound and the Environment in Artistic Practice (2007) edited by Angus Carlyle. (Paris, France: Association Double-Entendre in association with CRISAP).
Noise: The Political Economy of Music (1977) by Jacques Attali. (University of Minnesota Press).
Hungry Listening: Resonant Theory for Indigenous Sound Studies (2020) Dylan Robinson. (University of Minnesota Press)
Against Ambience (2013) Seth Kim-Cohen (Bloomsbury).

If you enjoyed this Julie Herndon interview and would like to stay up to date with her music, visit her official homepage. She is also on Instagram, Soundcloud, Facebook, and bandcamp.  

For a deeper dive, we recommend our earlier Julie Herndon interview.  


Cover art by Christina McPhee

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?

When I’m listening, I feel like an antenna. Certain sounds or tracks will strike me, and I feel a sense of connection, almost like recognizing someone else on the other side of the sounds.

That feeling of connection is something I am always looking for, both when I’m listening and when I’m composing. When I’m composing, I’ll listen back to my recordings looking for these moments of resonance.

Writing “From Nothing,” for example, my attention led me to some surprising places, like to cicadas and wind outside my window.



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

I recently watched a lecture by Brian Eno where he talked about coaching Bono to sing while monitoring with speakers rather than headphones. He said the microphone bleed was worth the stronger sound that results from hearing the music in the room. That resonated with me.

When I’m mixing, I’ll check the tracks headphones, but I far prefer to work with monitors. They let me hear how the sound interacts with the room, how it breathes.

[Read our Brian Eno interview about climate change]

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

There are so many! I love records that create an environment, so that listening feels like entering another world.

Harold Budd and Brian Eno’s Pavilion of Dreams and Enya’s Watermark are albums I come back to for their overall spaciousness.



While I was recording and mixing my piano tracks, “Shimmering/Wavering” and “Reflection: Up/Down,” I was thinking about how to create that kind of immersive sound with the piano and effects.



I listened to a lot of Tim Hecker, especially Dropped Pianos.



In terms of blending acoustic and electronic instruments, I love Arushi Jain’s Under the Lilac Sky and Kelly Moran’s Don’t Trust Mirrors.



For sound design, Caroline Polachek’s Pang and Debby Friday’s Good Luck are such a treat.



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?

Because I’ve played the piano for so long, it feels like home to me.

When I hear one, it feels like the instrument is addressing me directly.

There can be sounds which feel highly irritating to us and then there are others we could gladly listen to for hours. Do you have examples for either one or both of these?

I love the sound of noise, especially Brownian and pink noise. I could listen to it all day. I find it deeply comforting, probably because it is masking so many other annoying sounds!

High, piercing frequencies grate my nerves very quickly. They can easily feel overpowering.

Are there everyday places, spaces, or devices which intrigue you by the way they sound? Which are these?

I love a window, because it blends indoor and outdoor sounds. Parts of Electronic Études were recorded and mixed at home, so those environmental sounds became part of the music’s fabric.

In the same way, I’ve always been drawn to heartbeat and breath sounds because they can be audible internally and externally.

For example, “Mirrors” uses breath to set the rhythm and pacing of the tremolo patterns. It’s a way of making a window of sorts between the internal experience of biorhythms and the external experience of performance.



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

Caves often make me feel an intense sense of self awareness, as if the most insignificant movement I make has consequences.

However, the Sutro Bath caves in San Francisco are resonant, but they’re also right by the Pacific so they amplify the ocean sounds. It’s an interesting effect because usually you can hear yourself so well in these sorts of resonant spaces, but here, you’re masked by the pink noise of the waves.

It almost makes you feel invisible—which is a cool sensation!

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

I love recording at home. Not because of any special acoustic properties but because it allows a kind of slow listening. I can set up and live with the material for a long time, letting it shift and settle.

When performing, I love a good piano (bonus points for maximum character or being perfectly in tune), a clear sound system, and engaged listeners.

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

Working with sound feels like following a thread or unravelling a ball of yarn. It feels like a fragile path that always leads me somewhere slightly different than I imagined.

For example, when I was composing “Slide,” I started with a small melodic phrase and followed it to the next, looping each phrase as I followed it to the next one.



The process almost feels like knitting.

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?

There is so much research coming out about how sound pollution impacts our health and stress levels more than we realize. Low-frequency noises, from traffic or construction, are especially wearying since they can trigger fight-or-flight responses and get in the way of sleep.

Acoustic health is absolutely a form of public health!

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?

I live close to the ocean. When it’s cloudy outside, you can’t hear the waves because they muffle the sound. When it’s clear, you can hear them roaring. It’s beautiful to experience the moisture in the air as actively “producing” the sounds of the waves.

I experience clouds differently because of this, more as a sound-dampening blanket than a distant phenomenon. It makes me think about all the elements that affect our experience of sound day to day.

Many animals communicate through sound. Based either on experience or intuition, do you feel as though interspecies communication is possible and important? Is there a creative element to it, would you say?  

My dog listens to me composing and mixing music every day. It’s interesting to see what sounds pique his interest and which he is immune too.

For example, he seems to interpret high crackling sounds as another creature in the room with us. He’ll get up and start looking around or even run to the window and start barking. Or when he hears my husband play clarinet multiphonics, he’ll howl along.

I don’t know if the sounds are communicating specific messages to him, but they certainly remind him of things and prompt him to respond.

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?

I have earplugs stashed in almost every bag and pocket. I wish more venues mixed with the listener’s ears in mind. Louder isn’t better, it’s just louder.

The ear plugs alter the sound of the mix, but at least they help me protect my ability to hear for a bit longer.

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?

Silence isn’t actually silent, there are countless small sounds happening, painting a picture of the present moment. Any of these can push or pull into a new idea or direction.

For me, this is the starting point. It resets my ears and my mind. Some of my favorite ideas arise from imagining sounds in this sort of quiet-not-silent state.

Seth S. Horowitz called hearing the “universal sense” and emphasised that it was more precise and faster than any of our other senses, including vision. How would our world be different if we paid less attention to looks and listened more instead?

Sound is special because its vibrations can be felt and, through some materials, even seen.

In terms of moving away from superficiality, though, it’s less about the primary sense used, and more about having the patience to get past the surface stuff and perceive one another more deeply.

That could be done with any sense.