Q&A with Aistis

 

A: Aistis is my given birth name and it is derived from Aisčiai, which is the Lithuanian name for the Aesti, a Baltic tribe (or people) that was first described by the Roman historian Tacitus (born c. 56 AD, died c. 120 AD). They were apparently the first to collect amber, for no reason other than wonder and curiosity. Giving it value because they thought it was beautiful and nothing else, which is an idea that I completely adore.

 

 

A: Sincere, Refined, Lush

 

 

A: I’ve been playing music ever since I was a kid, with no formal training other than a few guitar lessons from my older brother’s friend when I was about 9 years old. I fell in love with Green Day at that time, and all I wanted to do was play rock. As I went through my teens, I went through many musical phases, including but not exclusive to emo and hardcore, before eventually discovering and falling in love with folk music at around 13/14. This is around the time that I started to attempt to write songs, but I never actually finished one until I was about 17. That was a pivotal moment for me. It felt like a breakthrough into a world that I knew would be a part of my life forever. I recorded my first record at 19, and I’ve been recording/writing ever since. 

 

Being born in Canada as the very first generation Canadian within my family (both parents and even my older brother were born in Lithuania), my cultural identity has always been split. Being raised by a Lithuanian family, with Lithuanian traditions, has always made me feel more European than Canadian, but then at the same time, when I am visiting Lithuania, I feel slightly different and feel my Canadian side much stronger. It’s a strange thing, this sort of split identity, but one that I am proud of and has informed my writing in many ways. I feel like identity is a throughline in a lot of my writing, so I’m sure that is at least one example of how it has influenced me. 

 

 

A: “Plateau Botticelli” stemmed as an exercise of wanting to work on something new while I was finishing a multi-year process of recording a seperate album. I had been trying to navigate complicated emotions within a relationship I was having and I wrote/recorded a version of this song in my home studio. Something clicked where I sort of found a particular freedom in my production style/writing/exploration, and there was something that felt pertinent and pressing about it. I continued to explore other songs because of that feeling, and alas a new album was being made unexpectedly haha. It helped me work through and understand many different perspectives and emotions I was facing and was healing in its process of creation. 

 

 

A: These days, I’ve found that the most interesting results come from maintaining a sense of playfulness while recording. I don’t make choices ahead of time as to what the production will contain, I just sort of set frameworks and guidelines. Within those frameworks and guidelines, anything goes. Sometimes a certain instrument will inform the production for the rest of the song and take you into corners you didn’t initially expect to explore. That’s the fun and curiosity of it. It’s trying to be as free as possible to achieve the intended expression. For instance, I meow and coo on one of the songs on “Clay”. It’s entirely dumb but I love it more than anything. I would’ve never had the confidence to do something like that years ago, but to me it’s the greatest testament of my own personal musical growth. Piano and guitar are usually what I write-on, so those will forever hold the most special place in my heart, but really it’s just about exploration and seeing what can cause spark and inspiration, and that’s the beauty that every different instrument holds. 

 

 

A: That human relationships aren’t linear in their emotion or presentation. That beauty and disfigurement co-exist and the lines between where one begins and where the other ends often blur, and can be more beautiful than purity itself.