Name: Viktor Orri Árnason
Nationality: Icelandic
Occupation: Composer, conductor, producer
Current release: Viktor Orri Árnason teams up with Álfheiður Erla Guðmundsdóttir for Poems, out now via Deutsche Grammophon.  
Recommendations: Since, in this interview, I am very focused on speaking about being present, I will recommend the book The power of now by Eckhart Tolle.
As a piece of music I will recommend Mahler’s Adagietto in his 5th symphony.

[Read our Álfheiður Erla Guðmundsdóttir interview]

If you enjoyed this Viktor Orri Árnason interview and would like to stay up to date with his music, visit his official website. He is also on Instagram, and Facebook.



Where does the impulse to create something come from for you? What role do often-quoted sources of inspiration like dreams, other forms of art, personal relationships, politics etc play?

In my experience, the impulse to create stems from a necessity to do so, and this need can arise from various motivations. Early in my career, this drive was fueled by competitiveness, but such a mindset yielded possibly shallow results; it was similar to endlessly honing tools without producing meaningful work.

Now, I believe the urge to create something enduring and impactful should emerge from a deeper place. Recently, my creative process has been inspired either by genuine excitement or personal suffering. When words fail to express my anguish, music becomes a powerful outlet.

However, lately, my focus has shifted to maintaining a sense of wonder about life and drawing inspiration from anything that ignites this feeling. Music, for me, is a reflection of life's beauties and complexities. Tapping into this source of creativity seems limitless, provided one practices maintaining this perspective. I've found that cultivating gratitude and forgiveness helps me achieve this mindset.

Although this all may sound clichéd, this approach has deeply resonated with me in recent years.

For you to get started, do there need to be concrete ideas – or what some have called a 'visualisation' of the finished work? What does the balance between planning and chance look like for you?

There are numerous approaches to initiating the creative process. During my music studies, I heavily focused on envisioning and then building a structure and its progression before bringing it to life through writing and arranging.

However, my recent methods shift this a bit. Now, I often begin by simply hitting the record button in my studio, then replaying the recording to discern what further steps are needed. This approach compels me to immerse myself in the moment, fostering a heightened state of awareness. It demands an acute attention to the choices I make – the specific durations of notes, which chords work and which don’t, and the intended structural direction of the piece.

This practice is undoubtedly more instinctual than what I learned in the academy, but in many ways more fulfilling. It poses a continuous challenge: to listen meticulously and responsively, tuning into the subtle nuances of the music as it unfolds.

The album POEMS is a very good example of this mix of the intuitive process and then finalizing it through more careful decisions of extra writing on top.

Is there a preparation phase for your process? Do you require your tools to be laid out in a particular way, for example, do you need to do 'research' or create 'early versions'?

Recently, I've realized that the best preparation for my creativity is, quite simply, life itself. It's about embracing everything that ignites inspiration. My practice involves being fully present in each moment, which includes attuning to every surrounding sound, observing the sky (cliché as it may sound), and continuously realigning with the present. This mindset has naturally fostered my creative flow.

In music, creativity is predominantly about listening, a skill that can always be refined. It involves tuning your mind to resonate with your environment, maintaining a state of constant alertness and receptivity.

I'm fortunate to have children who effortlessly bring me into the moment. Their presence is a powerful exercise in patience and a rich source of inspiration in daily life. Time spent with them doesn't leave me drained; instead, it fuels my inspiration, energizing me to head into the studio and create more music.

Do you have certain rituals to get you into the right mindset for creating? What role do certain foods or stimulants like coffee, lighting, scents, exercise or reading poetry play?

Lighting, scents, and music recordings played significant roles in the creation of our album, POEMS. We carefully adjusted the lighting in my studio and burned Palo Santo wood, creating an immersive atmosphere. We're even considering using Palo Santo at every concert we perform. These elements contribute to anchoring us in the present moment, enhancing our enjoyment and connection to the environment.

However, I consciously avoid becoming dependent on any specific ritual. Instead, I aim to let life's natural flow guide me into this state of presence and creativity.

What do you start with? And, to quote a question by the great Bruce Duffie: When you come up with a musical idea, have you created the idea or have you discovered the idea?

I think there is a mix of both things happening simultaneously. Lately I actually feel more like I am discovering ideas.

When do the lyrics enter the picture? Where do they come from? Do lyrics need to grow together with the music or can they emerge from a place of their own?

For us, we used the poems to push us into a state of mind. Our focus was also to let the poems be almost lyrically spoken out, so that the words felt naturally sung to the listener.

To us it was important that the words felt connected with the musical space, not necessarily note by note like many composers write, but connected to the wholeness of the piece.

Many writers have claimed that as soon as they enter into the process, certain aspects of the narrative are out of their hands. Do you like to keep strict control or is there a sense of following things where they lead you?

I used to practice excessively to control all aspects of the music. But honestly, I feel that the more I let go of control, the better the music becomes.

Often, while writing, new ideas and alternative roads will open themselves up, pulling and pushing the creator in a different direction. Does this happen to you, too, and how do you deal with it? What do you do with these ideas?

Absolutely, it happens frequently. I genuinely enjoy the challenge of being steered into new directions with my writing.

My strategy for handling this involves maintaining an open mind. I always let the creative process unfold naturally and remain flexible.

Additionally, I'm prepared to revisit earlier versions of my work if the new direction I explore doesn't lead to a stronger musical version.

There are many descriptions of the creative state. How would you describe it for you personally? Is there an element of spirituality to what you do?

Indeed, the process has become very spiritual for me. I experience a profound sense of elevation as I get inspired to write music about the big questions in life, delving into philosophical inquiries, and exploring themes that transcend my own ego.

This shift towards more expansive and introspective topics deeply enriches my creative experience.

When you're in the studio to record a piece, how important is the actual performance and the moment of performing the song still in an age where so much can be “done and fixed in post?“

In my current recordings, I prioritize capturing a human essence. I believe it's increasingly vital to embrace imperfections in our work. This aspect gains even more significance as we, as creators, begin to face the emerging competition from artificial intelligence.

Allowing these natural imperfections not only maintains the human touch but also distinguishes our work in an era of technological advancement.

Once a piece is finished, how important is it for you to let it lie and evaluate it later on? How much improvement and refinement do you personally allow until you're satisfied with a piece? What does this process look like in practise?

It's crucial for me to allow ideas to simmer, revisiting recorded concepts repeatedly to contemplate their potential growth.

When ideas are in a written form, it requires a shift to a more imaginative mindset. There it becomes important to question the inherent strength of the musical material itself and considering ways it can be enhanced.

Visiting both sides of this creative process is key to nurturing and refining my creative ideas.

Even recording a solo song is usually a collaborative process. Tell me about the importance of trust between the participants, personal relationships between musicians and engineers and the freedom to perform and try things – rather than gear, technique or “chops” - for creating a great song.

Trusting in your collaborators is essential to the whole process. Finding the people that you love working with becomes so important.

What's your take on the role and importance of production, including mixing and mastering for you personally? In terms of what they contribute to a song, what is the balance between the composition and the arrangement (performance)?

The importance of production varies with each project. For example, the album VAST, which I created with Yair Elazar Glotman, was meticulously produced. In this case, production became an integral part of the creative process itself.



We used thirteen microphones to record just two instruments, achieving what I believe are larger-than-life recordings of a violin and bass duo. This outcome was the result of a shared understanding between us of the transformative power of sound engineering in a recording.

On the other hand, in our album POEMS, production played an important role but wasn't as critical. The tracks from POEMS are versatile enough to be reinterpreted in new settings while still retaining the essence of the music. This adaptability contrasts with VAST, where replicating the original production and its unique sound would be a more complex task.

After finishing a piece or album and releasing something into the world, there can be a sense of emptiness. Can you relate to this – and how do you return to the state of creativity after experiencing it?

I'm fortunate not to experience that sense of emptiness after completing a project, though I can understand why it might happen to others.

For me, there was a profound sense of relief when I signed the contract with Deutsche Grammophon, knowing that my music would be released under such a lovely label. This feeling was amplified when the music was actually released.

Celebrating the launch with a concert in Berlin was exhilarating. Feeling the audience's engagement as we played the music was immensely gratifying. As for returning to a creative mindset, I find it naturally re-emerges as I continue practicing mindfulness.

Creativity can reach many different corners of our lives. Do you personally feel as though writing a piece of music is inherently different from something like making a great cup of coffee? What do you express through music that you couldn't or wouldn't in more 'mundane' tasks?

Yes I do think there is a difference there. Making amazing coffee or food for others certainly is a beautiful act of sharing and connecting. But I might say that there is a similarity in being a parent to a child as there is in creating and taking care of your music.

Both demand long-term vision coupled with the ability to remain present and engaged in the moment. Just as relishing every moment with your child and aiding their growth mirrors the process of creating music, the commitment levels differ. Parenting is a lifelong commitment, an endeavor that one cannot simply choose to cease.

On the other hand, continuing to create music is a choice, especially considering the challenges in making a sustainable living from it. This difference in permanence between the two roles is significant.

I am deeply convinced that music possesses a unique ability to express aspects of life that are beyond the reach of words. For this reason, I feel immensely grateful for the opportunity to express myself through music.