Helena Silva is a Portuguese violinist and composer based in Lisbon. Classically trained, she completed a Master’s in Performance at Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, and has since been forging a path that bridges the classical and experimental worlds. Don’t miss our interview with Helena Silva, where we discuss composing music, influences, artistic vision, upcoming projects, and life.
What first drew you to the violin, and when did you realize composition would also become part of your path?
My parents took me and my sister (9 and 6 years old at the time) to a gig by a local folk band near our place. After that, my sister really wanted to learn the violin and I was just dragged along, not really excited about the idea. This band’s violin player became our teacher, and just after a few months my sister dropped the classes, while I kept going till this day. As for composition, it was kind of a similar story in a way. A friend of mine, who used to promote a one-man-band festival, challenged me to play there, although I had never composed anything before. I borrowed a loop pedal from another friend and a few months later there I was, playing my own compositions for the first time.
What does a typical creative day look like for you? Do you have rituals or habits that help you enter a composing mindset?
I don’t have a regular schedule so to speak, as I am not very consistent when it comes to routines. However, when I felt like the time had come to work on what came to be Celeste, I would start the day by gathering some inspiration. That could take many forms - reading a book while drinking my morning coffee or listening to some music while doing something around the house, like watering the plants or setting the equipment to start playing. Then I’d begin improvising or playing something that popped into my mind just a few minutes before. I feel like my work so far has been quite spontaneous to a certain extent. I love taking hold of that fresh idea and improvise around it. It might take a whole different direction later, of course, but there are these raw emotions waiting to be captured. That’s what I aspire to.
Who are your top three favorite composers of all time, and why? Are there any non-classical artists who influence your work?
As a violin player I would name Bach as one of my favourite composers, though I wouldn’t necessarily cite any classical composer as an influence per se. It’s mainly contemporary artists who I would consider influences. Tim Hecker, Fennesz, Kali Malone and Brian Eno take the lead. All of them explore ambient and drones in their own way. The way Tim Hecker composes and records pianos and choirs to then almost destroy them awes me. Brian Eno being the undisputed master of ambient music and such an amazing thinker regarding art in general, also comes as a huge influence to me. Nils Frahm and Ryuichi Sakamoto, bridging and exploring classical piano and electronics are also worth noting.
How do you balance structure and improvisation when building your soundscapes?
Honestly, I don’t think much about structure when composing. No idea how my method will evolve in the future, but, for now, it has been quite spontaneous. I tend to let the composition itself and my intuition take the lead. Feelings matter much to me. I’m quite a nostalgic person, and I believe one can sense that when listening to my music. I’m constantly longing for places I’ve left or people I haven’t seen in a while, and I believe that comes forth through my music.
Celeste feels like a bold progression from Manta. What changed in your creative vision between the two releases?
Well, Manta was the first time I recorded my own music all by myself. It was nerve wracking for sure. I felt completely out of touch in the studio. Everything was new. And I guess that EP suffers from all that. Being out of my comfort zone, imposter syndrome, technical terms I was unfamiliar with... you name it. Those things end up permeating the music, whether you like it or not. This time, with Celeste, I felt more comfortable in my own skin, both as a composer and as an artist. Not that all those things went away, but this time they felt more manageable. I got more comfortable with the loop station and the whole effect pedals, and - most importantly - my vision for what I wanted to achieve was much clearer. It was a pretty natural progression. Besides that, I see now that earlier I was slightly frightened by the judgement from my peers, as in the classical music, I mean. After a few years digging more and more into electronic music I felt confident enough to let go of these mental barriers.
Which piece of music that you’ve composed is your favorite, and what makes it special to you?
I believe there’s no right answer to that, but I can say that Celeste, the track, was a pivotal point for the album. It kind of tied a few loose knots at the time. Alva felt reminiscent of my previous work, while compositions like Figurado and Morning Tide were facing a whole new direction. At some point during the process it felt like mixing oil and water. But then Celeste began to take form and the album as a whole started making sense. Besides that, and it’s the first time I am letting this out in public, Celeste was a very dear character in recent Portuguese history, who died when I was finishing the album in 2024. She happened to be carrying flowers when the revolution, which ended the dictatorship in 1974, began. And that’s how we ended up with such beautiful and iconic imagery – red carnations sprouting from the barrels of guns – and no shots fired.
Can you share any details about your upcoming projects or collaborations?
One of my goals is to collaborate more with other art forms. In 2023, I had the opportunity, during Celeste’s first steps, to record some violins for Lisa Morgenstern’s soundtrack for The Empress. And, more recently, I was challenged to compose and play live during the screening of The Seashell and the Clergyman, a 1928 experimental film. Performing for theatre productions has also been a recurrent gig over the past few years. As for the future, I’ve been preparing music for a short film as well - and I’d love to keep exploring more of these interdisciplinary collaborations.
Finally, from your perspective, what is the meaning of life?
I’m too young to add anything relevant to such an age-old question. Many brilliant thinkers have delve into questioning the meaning of life and the first answer that pops into my mind is that there is no meaning. Not that life is meaningless, but I don’t think we, individually, matter much in the whole universe context. However, focusing on myself, I would say that what my journey so far has showed me is that we should seek failure and overcome fear as a way to challenge ourselves. Otherwise we will never know our true potential. On a more artistic level, I seek to build a common ground where different cultures and places connect. I just love this idea of bringing distant worlds together, abolishing borders that so many times unwillingly trap and confine us.