Rrose requires little introduction. The incarnation of multidisciplinary artist and label owner ("Eaux"), Seth Horvitz, is one of the most prolific artists in ambient and electronic music. Rrose’s work stands as a world of its own for over 25 years, a masterful realm that is powerful without grandiosity but imbued with a deep sense of knowing. Yes, a knowing, yet still fueled by the unknown habits and peculiarities of the machines used. Some of Rrose's tracks are perpetually true, enduring the passage of trends or developments. It’s challenging to describe more than that because productions like “Dissolve” (2019) or “Waterfall” (2011) exist in their own truth, allowing for both nerding out and spacing out equally.

According to Borshch Magazine, “Rrose retained the aura of an elegantly forceful enigma,” which I find to be quite apt. While nothing seems clear, it's sincere.

Rrose’s sounds exhibit meticulous craftsmanship with an avant-garde edge—rousing and hypnotic in its techno appearances, explorative in its senses, and unsettling in its more ambient and experimental expressions. The London-based artist will perform a live set at the Mostra Festival on Sunday, with the Castel de Montjuic as a backdrop. I couldn't imagine a more fitting location to experience a Rrose live performance, as the castle spreads a similar sincere, mystical, and powerful atmosphere. Ahead of the festival, we had the honor of exchanging a few words with Seth.

Hi Seth, it is a pleasure and honor to have you on the interview here, especially concerning such a beautiful festival like Mostra. What have you heard about the festival so far?
Honestly, not much! It looks like it’s in a beautiful location, which I always appreciate, and the lineup looks great, too.

I know the most obvious thing might be to talk straight about music, but let’s park this for a second. I’d love to begin with silence. Often enough, we speak about sounds but not the importance of silence. What role does silence play for you as a person and as an artist?
That’s a great place to start. I became interested in John Cage’s explorations of silence (and his wonderful book by the same name) several decades ago (yes, I’m old!), but those ideas seem to sink in more profoundly with every passing year. I find myself craving quiet, meditative spaces more and more and find myself less compelled to listen to recorded music to fill in the gaps of my day. My listening habits have become more active and intentional, whether directed at recorded music or the world around me. And within my music, the concepts of space and stillness (within an ecosystem filled with movement) are present at every turn. As it turns out, silence is music!

Plato stated that each individual is drawn to certain rhythms and melodies. It is so relatable - what one person might like- take drones for example - is offputting to another. What are the things you feel naturally and inherently drawn to soundwise, maybe even on a primal level?
I’m drawn to sounds that seductively confuse my senses, sounds that have fuzzy boundaries, sounds that emerge from the combinations of other sounds, sounds that lead me into a state of contemplation, but also sounds that vibrate the entire body and compel it to move rhythmically, cathartic sounds.

Mostra is a festival that I would position somewhere in the middle of the” dancefloor continuum.” The days start with ambient and evolve to what I’d call liminal electronics ( the perfect sound to sway to) and then a stronger but not too heavy dancefloor orientation. You will play a Sunday pre-closing set. What are your considerations around that slot?
I always appreciate a gradual flow to programming, so I will do my best to respond to the arc that has been established.

The artists playing before and after you - Konsudd and Timnah - are known for their rather fast hypnotic breaks sound, which has recently risen in popularity. How do you enjoy that sound yourself and to what extent - if any- does that influence the way you approach your performance?
I didn’t know about these artists before you mentioned them here, and to be honest, I don’t keep up much with the latest trends. I might need to do some research!

I'm intrigued to delve deeper into your live performance setup, particularly as you're gearing up for a 180-minute set at Zenner, a concept quite different compared to the conventional 60-90 minutes that live acts have. Could you elaborate on your approach to live sets overall, and how improvisation factors into your performance?
The Zenner set is an open invitation to try something new in a setting that is geared more towards listening than dancing, so I’m planning to play more with extended durations and give myself permission to improvise more than I would normally do (and I’m honestly a little terrified!). Most of my live sets are very tightly organized and planned, with improvisation limited to certain essential parameters. I use filters and effects to control the density and intensity of the mix, but I generally plot out the timeline in advance. This method is more faithful to how the music is created and more faithful to my strengths. I’m inspired by the dub method of playing the mixer as an instrument. When I give myself too many options, I am generally not happy with the result, and I find that I would rather present a set that feels intricately composed rather than one that feels made up “on the fly.”

I’ve read about how you transitioned from Sutekh to the Rrose “entity” and the role your studies at Mills College in Oakland played in that. There was a notion of first having to learn things to lose them to develop further as a musician. On the contrary, what are the things that you haven’t lost, the things you kept, apart from the fact of having stayed in electronic music?
I wouldn’t say I’ve lost anything; I’ve just made the conscious decision to leave some things out of my productions as Rrose to keep them more focused and intentionally limited. Sutekh was more of an “anything goes” project, which eventually led to an identity crisis. But what has stayed with me, and what I have come to accept is that techno is at the root of what I do - it’s the kind of music that has shaped me more than any other. When I went back to study, I thought I would be shedding my techno past, but I realized that was a counter-productive approach. Instead, I expanded my idea of what techno can be and accepted its enduring influence on my creative vision.

I have a somewhat self-related question to ask (apologies in advance!). You studied with Fred Frith, whose music was a daily presence in my upbringing, as my parents were deeply into avant-garde and experimental music during the 80s and 90s. Frith is renowned for his perspectives on deconstruction, reconstruction, and improvisation. What was the most significant takeaway for you from his works or teachings?
As I mentioned above, I tend to plan and edit meticulously and shy away from spontaneous improvisation (on stage at least). Working with Fred was completely eye-opening in that regard because he forces you to think spontaneously. I joined his improvisation ensemble course and he led us in a series of brilliant, fun, and provocative exercises that forced us to play together without thinking about it, to respond to our environment in the most direct and immediate way possible. It was a wonderful experience, but it also hammered in the fact that “free” improvisation is not my strength (haha!). If I had to summarize the most important takeaway, it would be that music, at its core, is a social practice. This might seem like an obvious statement, but it’s also deeply profound.

Mills is a highly esteemed academy, and it appears that you gained considerable insight during your tenure there. Ultimately, every artist must develop their path, whether through formal musical education or self-directed learning. Nowadays, there is a plethora of masterclasses, mentorship programs, and electronic music schools catering to aspiring producers. How do you perceive them, and if you were to offer guidance or teach within such programs, what advice would you give?
It’s hard for me to comment because there’s just so much material out there, it’s almost overwhelming, and the quality and content vary dramatically. When it comes to learning technical skills, YouTube has everything you need. It’s great that this access exists, but also a shame that it’s usually presented in a way that caters to (and reinforces) short attention spans. When it comes to being inspired and gaining creative insight, more patient engagement is required in my opinion. I have started hosting some sessions of my own via a platform called Echio, which have gone well. I’m opening myself up more to discussing my studio practices, influences, and inspirations. I also meet with some students one-on-one to discuss their work. When I was at Mills, being able to discuss my work with inspiring faculty weekly was invaluable, so I’m happy if I can provide a similar experience to others. As for specific advice, it really depends on the person, but if I had to give one bit of general advice, it would be: practice patience in everything you do!