A blank sheet of paper; a silent space. For creators, these can be the scariest things in the world. For Hinako Omori, these seem to be the tools of her sumptuous sonic trade.
Omori is one of those rare creators who defies any attempt at classification. Equally at home on Radio 1 or Radio 3, she has appeared as a keyboard player, pianist and synth programmer for the likes of Ed O'Brien, KT Tunstall, Kae Tempest, James Bay and Ellie Goulding. Her solo project has emerged organically from this world, taking in everything from ambient whispers of synth-based sound design to orchestral scoring.
I caught up with Omori in the midst of a busy international tour, breathing life into her first full-length album A Journey…. Our conversation turned early on to the need for musicians to take care of their own needs – ‘finding balance is really important’, she says. The idea of balance runs through Omori's creative process; combining carefully crafted synth design with field recordings collected from forests and countryside.
A Journey… grew out of an invitation, from university friend Oli Jacobs, to contribute to 2020's WOMAD at Home festival. Jacobs is head engineer at Peter Gabriel's beautiful Real World studios. According to Omori, ‘I had all of these demos that I'd accumulated in the three years before the pandemic, of me experimenting with synthesisers. A lot of the writing was done on the road, while touring around with other artists.’ These formed the chrysalis of what grew into A Journey. Building in field recordings captured from the chocolate-box landscape surrounding Real World, Omori began creating an immersive sound-world. Borrowing Real World's binaural head microphone – designed to capture sound in the way the human ear hears it – the resulting soundscape was built in ambisonic glory on Real World's crystalline surround-sound mixing room. ‘Having access to this equipment was an honour and not something you usually get to use.’
Creative process
I was interested to know, given the breadth of work which makes up Omori's portfolio, how she begins her creative process. ‘I start tapping into feelings,’ she explains, ‘working out where I am at that time on that day. I usually start by playing something: I like exploring how I can find a physical connection with an instrument.’ This experimental approach to sound underlines Omori's creative process. When working with her amazing web of collaborators, she starts by finding a way to ‘serve the beautiful work someone else is trying to create. I try to find something which fits their world; which honours their world.’
Given the incredible array of synths, pedals and plugins which form the palette of A Journey, I was keen to explore how this technology informs Omori's creative journey. ‘A lot of the music comes from getting to know the equipment; the process takes on something like a meditation on how you can use this piece of equipment to express what you're feeling; how you can get to the core of what you want to express.’ The album was built around the Sequential Prophet '08, OB6 and Moog Matriarch, which form the cornerstone of Omori's impressive north London studio space.
A Journey unfolds in space like a flower stretching out towards the light. In addition to the writing, programming and sound design of the album, Omori contributes some of the photography to the final gestalt concept, together with Katie May, another of Real World's engineering team and a fellow graduate (with Omori and Jacobs) of Surrey University's prestigious Tonmeister course. Her haunting vocals layer across the album's sound design, coloured by a range of effects, both analogue and digital. ‘I tend to harvest lyrics away’, she adds; ‘they live on a note pad’. The music and words form separate parts of Omori's creative journey: ‘Once I have an idea, I then think “what lyrics would go well with this?”’ I particularly love the idea that the process of uniting music and lyrics ‘is like a puzzle’ for this fearless creative spirit.
For the track ‘The Richest Garden in Your Memory', Omori paraphrases Great Circles: The Transits of Mathematics and Poetry by the poet and philosopher Emily Grosholz. The pellucid piano line plunges into a deep three-dimensional reverb-scape, melding seamlessly with Omori's dreamlike vocals. The transparent synth pads sit unobtrusively, warming the slowly melting frost of Omori's spring garden.
© Courtesy of Annie Lai
Hinako Omori's work is inspired by the 1980s Japanese therapy of shinrin-yoku (‘forest bathing’)
Studio v touring approach
I was interested to know how this sumptuous soundscape would translate into live performances. ‘Limitation does play a part in how I work. In the studio, you can play with lots of sonics from different instruments, but when you're on tour, it's a different experience’, Omori explains. She usually tours with her go-to instrument, the Sequential Prophet 08.
‘The Prophet was the first synth I bought. I love the challenge of working out how to realise what you want to express on one instrument.’ I get the sense that the process of crafting a live version of a studio composition is not one of reducing but rather of reimagining the possibilities. For the debut live shows of A Journey, reimagined with the London Contemporary Orchestra, Omori talks about conducting a guided meditation – leading the audience into her creative world.
The role of limitation is central to the creative process, nowhere more so than when technology is integrated into the journey. Problems become possibilities; these possibilities enable us to gain a more intimate understanding of our tools and our media. The choice of the Prophet 08 in Omori's workflow is no accident. The subtractive synthesiser is limited to eight voices, with two modulation options per voice. Digital alternatives offer a far more limitless sonic palette – this preference for an analogue workflow seems to be at the heart of Omori's roadmap.
In a recent demonstration for another of the cornerstones of Omori's studio, the Moog Matriarch, I was interested to see that she instinctively starts her exploration of the instrument in monophonic mode; limiting her exploration to a single note at a time, and working out systematically as the sonic possibilities of this semi-modular rig unfold. ‘It's a dream to have all of these synths out on a rack’, Omori said of the north London studio space which she shares with a community of like-minded creatives. She describes the space as a ‘synth-based studio with laptop’, and her go-to instruments, the Prophet 08 and Moog Matriarch, offer a visceral approach to an otherwise abstract journey into sound.
Team work
The sense of community is another central feature of Omori's approach to music-making. Much of her work involves collaborating with a dream-team list of artists from a range of styles and backgrounds. I was keen to know how working with such a diverse musical family informs her own musicality. ‘I learn so much from each different experience’, she explains; ‘I love the synergy of the session world – getting to honour someone else's creation.’
In typically self-effacing style, Omori goes on to explain that ‘being able to do something you love, with people you admire – it doesn't feel like work.’ Omori describes her collaborators as ‘an organic spider web of friends’.
Recently, Omori was invited to write for the BBC Concert Orchestra as part of their Unclassified Live series at London's Southbank Centre. A festival celebrating composers who evade categorisation, the program is the brainchild of BBC Radio 3's Elizabeth Alker. Omori was excited by the challenge of writing for symphony orchestra, and by an approach markedly different from her session work with luminaries of the pop world. We talked about different approaches to orchestrating and transcribing musical ideas. ‘We covered orchestration at university; it's not something I have had much opportunity to do since’, she explains. I was excited to hear that Omori frequently sketches out session work on paper, underlining the visual, multisensory approach which informs her artistry.
Advice to others
Given the singular nature of Omori's musical journey, I was keen to know whether her path has unfolded in the way she imagined, and what advice she would give to her younger self. ‘Not to worry so much’, she mused; ‘find your own way of finding your own feet. There's no right or wrong way of doing things. Guidance and guidelines are great but you should feel able to step outside the box if it helps you say what you want to say. That's not to say formal training isn't a good thing, but I think people with no musical training have a wonderful advantage in terms of finding their own unique path.’
Hinako Omori appears as part of Unclassified Live with the BBC Concert Orchestra on 19 May at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, London, and on BBC Radio 3.
