Feature: Samyula Decodes ‘Ethereal’
How did you come up with the theme?
The theme of ‘Ethereal’ came from a need to create something honest and light—a space to breathe. I didn’t plan it in a conceptual way; it just flowed naturally from the state I was in while composing. I was going through a quiet but intense inner process, and I wanted the music to reflect that stillness, that feeling of floating through emotions without being overwhelmed. The word ethereal felt like the most accurate way to describe it—delicate, spacious, and somehow outside of time.
What impact do you hope 'Ethereal' will have on your audience?
I hope it brings calm. Even if it's just for a few minutes, I’d love for people to feel a kind of softness inside when they listen to it. I receive messages from people saying they use my music to study, to concentrate, to think, to meditate… and I find that incredibly moving. ‘Ethereal’ isn’t about big gestures; it’s about being fully present, with whatever you're feeling.
Can you talk about any standout tracks on 'Ethereal' and what makes them special to you?
“Transcendent” definitely holds a special place for me—it came out of a very honest place and felt like a personal breakthrough. It’s about letting go and rising above fear and fragmentation. Another one I feel close to is “Core.” It’s minimal, but emotionally raw. It’s like reaching into the very center of who you are, where there’s no mask, no noise—just you.
What is your creative vision as an artist?
For me, creating is about connecting. I don’t see myself as a performer trying to impress—I see myself as someone opening a door to an inner space. My vision is to keep creating music that feels intimate and emotional, that invites people to feel, to slow down, and to reconnect with what’s essential. I’m not afraid of silence or fragility in music—those are powerful elements.
How do you translate your inspirations into musical ideas and compositions?
It usually starts with a feeling or a sensation that I can't quite put into words. I sit at the piano, often in the early morning or late at night when everything is still, and I improvise until something resonates. Once I find a motif that speaks to that feeling, I stay with it and let it guide me. I rarely force anything. I also draw inspiration from nature, from books I read—especially poetry and psychology—and from everyday life moments: a walk, a deep conversation, or even just watching my children play.
