Katarina Gryvul On Using 3D Sound to Preserve Memories

Ukrainian composer Katarina Gryvul draws on classical training while creating innovative electronic music. After studying violin and composition at music academies in Lviv and Kraków, she pursued computer music and sound art at the University of Music and Performing Arts in Graz. Music has been central to her life since childhood, when she took vocal lessons and performed in competitions. Though her early singing career was cut short by a family move, those aspirations now find expression in her electronic compositions, where her voice plays a crucial role.

Her third album, SPOMYN (meaning "recollection" in Ukrainian), comes out via Subtext Recordings and examines memory through what Gryvul describes as "corrupted choral pop compositions." Created during personal and national upheaval, each track is dedicated to someone important in her life. The titles, like "Fragments of a Mirror" and "The Cricket Game" (presented on the album in the Ukranian language), provide small windows into their meaning, though Gryvul notes in our discussion that the music communicates what words often cannot.

Gryvul's approach centers on holophony, where each sound contributes equally to create immersive sonic experiences. As she explains, her process begins by crafting unique timbres and arranging them spatially, often using binaural techniques that create the sense of sound moving around the listener. This method allows each sound element to interact with others like characters in a small universe.

Beyond making music, Gryvul founded a school to share her techniques with other musicians, emphasizing the development of individual artistic voices rather than following established conventions. She expounds on all of this and more in our talk.

Inside the Sound Space

Lawrence Peryer: Your training includes classical violin performance, composition, and now computer music and sound art. What pushed you to expand beyond classical composition into electronic music?

Katarina Gryvul: Since childhood, I have dreamed of singing. Even in kindergarten, I took vocal lessons and performed in various competitions. I remember my grandmother sewing my concert dresses. But later, we moved to another city, and that was the end of my vocal career. That's why I see my electronic project as a tribute to my inner child.

Plus, the audience and atmosphere in a more "popular" environment—if I can call it that, compared to academic classical music—feel more open, spontaneous, and fun.

Lawrence: How did studying in Lviv, Kraków, and Graz shape your approach to sound? Were there particular mentors or experiences that fundamentally changed your musical direction?

Katarina: Honestly, the only truly strict teachers I had were for violin, harmony, and orchestration—basically, all the subjects except composition. In composition, I had complete freedom; honestly, my professors probably weren't all that interested in what I was doing. On one hand, that was great, but on the other, I often felt like I was on my own.

I think the works of Klaus Lang and Panayiotis Kokoras had the biggest influence on me. Also important were the numerous composition masterclasses I attended. I had one-on-one lessons with many contemporary composers, such as Stefan Prins, Andrew Toovey, Sarah Nemtsov, and Raphael Cendo.

Lawrence: Your music bridges holophony with avant-garde techniques. Could you explain how the concept of holophony functions in your compositions?

Katarina: This term was first introduced by Panayiotis Kokoras. The importance of this concept lies in the fact that each independent sound makes an equal contribution to creating a cohesive sonic image, where timbre and the spatial arrangement of sounds play a key role. This allows listeners to feel as though they are inside the sound space, where each element interacts with the others, creating a unique auditory experience.

This technology also mimics the principles of 3D audio. It is based on how our brain processes sound signals, taking into account the differences in time and intensity of sound reaching each ear. As a result, it creates the illusion that sound is moving around—from above, below, from the side, or behind. I often use binaural plugins or binaural sound recording to achieve this effect.

Lawrence: What does your composition process look like?

Katarina: As I mentioned earlier, for me, timbre and its spatial arrangement come first, and everything else—harmony, form, etc.—comes after. A large part of the process is dedicated to creating the timbral palette of each track, which is very similar to a painter's color palette, but here I would also add the texture of the elements themselves.

The search for timbre is intuitive; I often feel a tickling sensation inside, a kind of childlike exhilaration, and that's when I know I've found it. It's hard to describe this process, but I create music precisely for this reason—when you can build little worlds out of sounds, like tiny creatures inside. Each one has its movement, character, interaction with other sounds, and development—or lack of it.

An Emotional Diary

Lawrence: SPOMYN explores memory as "fragile" and "fragmented." What specific memories or experiences became source material for this album?

Katarina: The memories of the people I've lost over the past three years are reflected in each song. Each one is a form of personal memory dedicated to someone special to me, using sounds and words that are unique to us. I wanted to somehow preserve our memories, and I couldn't find a closer form than music. It's the only way I can express so much more than words ever could. It's like my emotional diary, one I've been keeping for many years.

Lawrence: What drew you to vocal elements, and how do you approach their manipulation?

Katarina: I enjoy playing with my voice; sometimes it loses all its "human" qualities, and other times it sounds intimate and chamber-like. For me, the voice is like a fingerprint. Having memory problems (prosopagnosia), the thing I remember most is the voice—the timbre, the tempo, the intonational rises and falls.

In this album, there isn't a track where I don't use my voice in one way or another, even though in the first and second albums, I'd say I was quite shy with it. I think it's somehow connected to accepting myself because, when I first started, it was really hard for me to sing in my tracks. My voice felt cringey to me. I can't say I sing better with time, but I've learned to accept myself as I am.

Lawrence: How does the current situation in Ukraine inform your music's themes and aesthetic choices?

Katarina: With all the sorrow, despair, and sadness I've faced over the last three years, I could never have imagined it. Sometimes, it feels impossible to hold all of it in one body. I know that every Ukrainian has experienced these emotions.

It has changed me, first and foremost as a person, and consequently, my musical choices. However, it's hard to trace exactly how it's changed me, because the events from three years ago feel so distant—it feels like a different life, like a dream I would love to return to.

Lawrence: Your track titles are in Ukrainian. Could you translate a few with particular significance and explain what they represent within the album's concept?

Katarina: I won't dive too deep into personal memories, but I can describe the "feeling" of some of the songs.

“Ulamky Lyusterka” (Fragments of a Mirror) – Musically, this composition comprises many "fragments" that can't be pieced together into something "whole."

"Hra V Tsvirkuna" (The Cricket Game) – As a child, we used to hunt crickets on warm summer nights, trying to find them by sound.

“Vdykh Vydykh” (Inhale-Exhale) – This is a key piece for me, which also starts with fragmented phrases, but in this case, they come together into one whole. The lyrics are so personal that I wouldn't want them translated into other languages. However, I believe everything can be felt through the music, even without understanding the lyrics. This is what I love about music – it's always self-sufficient and doesn't need an explanation.

Lawrence: How do the specific spatial approaches you implement in SPOMYN serve the album's themes of memory?

Katarina: As I mentioned before, I often use various binaural plugins to access more 3D-dimensional sound, even though it's in stereo. I also try to perceive sound as a living entity and imagine how it might move through space and interact with other sounds. It's like building a little universe with its own set of rules. Sometimes, the very nature of the sound can reveal a lot about its movement and how it will be placed in space.

Lawrence: How did your collaboration with James Ginzburg of Subtext on mixing and mastering shape the final sound of SPOMYN?

Katarina: I'm so grateful to James, I can't even put it into words. Mixing with him was my first experience mixing with someone else, as I usually do the mixing myself. However, I've never felt so "understood" as I did with him. He never disrupted the balance between the elements I created; it was as if he brought out the best in each sound and balanced them perfectly.

James is such a thoughtful and kind person; he's a true professional, and I was incredibly happy that he was the one who did the mixing and mastering of the album. It felt like he could read my mind during the process, so I didn't even have to say much about how I wanted things to be.

Sacred Hair

Lawrence: The album artwork by Yana Ilo visually echoes themes of shadow and fragmentation. How involved were you in developing the visual identity for this project?

Katarina: Yana is a very old friend of mine; she was one of the directors of my music video for the second album and the creator of most of the press photos. I love how she sees things, how sharp her perspective and aesthetic are, which I admire.

I had the idea of the hair for a long time, wanting it to be over my entire body. Hair is something very sacred to me, ever since childhood. My grandmother often performed various rituals related to it, so for me, hair symbolizes memory and a kind of subconscious information.

Yana took many photos, but this one, in particular, really captivated and held my attention. It was unanimous—Yana, James, and I all chose it for the cover.

Lawrence: You founded the Gryvul School to share your expertise with musicians. What specific gaps in music education are you addressing with this initiative?

Katarina: My school is my greatest achievement and realizing a childhood dream. I've always wanted to be the kind of teacher I never had, but desperately needed. That's how the idea of the school came about.

The program is very diverse; it depends on the student's needs. We can dive into ambisonics, polyphony, sound design, or contemporary instrumental extended techniques. I work with both professional composers and music producers. The most important thing for me is individuality, meaning that music should bring something new and not be directly associated with any existing artist. My students must develop their unique style, whether in contemporary composition or music production.

As a teacher, I also find it very interesting to psychologically search for different approaches that would best suit each individual student. Sometimes, the same information needs to be delivered in very different ways. Depending on the student's personal characteristics, I carefully choose the words and tone of voice that will allow me to explain everything as effectively as possible.

Lawrence: How has the reception differed across these various contexts where your work has been presented, substantial festivals like Warsaw Autumn, Ars Electronica, and CTM?

Katarina: These are very different types of festivals, but there are also many things that unite them. In general, the more time passes, the more I feel the line between the "classical" stage and the electronic one is blurring, if I can put it that way. Maybe I would say that the audience at CTM events tends to give more feedback, but the format of delivery is also much more casual compared to something like the Warsaw Autumn. So, I can't compare them too much.

Lawrence: How do you see SPOMYN in relation to your previous two releases, particularly Tysha?

Katarina: I believe this album is better than Tysha, if I can put it that way. I feel that in this new album, I'm bolder and more honest with myself, and as a result, with the listeners. This album is far more painful for me, and it was significantly harder to write, which is reflected in the three-year gap between releases. SPOMYN feels much more intimate, though it still contains many epic moments, which I would like to move away from in the future.

Lawrence: Many contemporary electronic musicians are rebuilding connections to folk traditions. Do you see your work as part of this broader cultural movement?

Katarina: I grew up listening to folk songs my grandmother sang to me, songs I performed during various holidays, and ones I later explored as part of my studies and folk expeditions. So, I feel that this is an inseparable part of me, but I don't consciously use any "existing" folk motifs. Rather, it's the remnants of similar melodies that I draw from different corners of my memory, and in the special form of voicing, which are very characteristic of the Ukrainian folk tradition.

Lawrence: Which elements of tradition do you consciously preserve in your work?

Katarina: I think I'm very attached to the traditional song structure and its melodic component. I enjoy working with harmonies and also having counterpoint lines, sometimes in the form of a canon. These elements can be traced in every track of mine.

Lawrence: Could you share a piece of music or work of art that inspires, comforts, or is otherwise meaningful to you?

Katarina: I think it would be an electromagnetic instrument - The Chromaplane by KOMA Elektronik.

Learn more about Katarina Gryvul at gryvul.com. Purchase SPOMYN from Bandcamp or Qobuz and listen on your streaming platform of choice.