About

Before sound, I was an athlete. High-performance soccer shaped me in discipline, in teamwork, in the demand to hold a standard. But there was a kind of connection I couldn’t find there: a deeper, more human one. At fifteen I set out to find it, and the first path was music.

Cinema had been with me since childhood; Interstellar was the film that forced me to question everything. For years I lived music and cinema as two separate worlds, until I recognized what joined them: sound. The score, the silences, the texture of every scene. Halfway through my music production degree, I chose to specialize in sound for film and television.

What goes unheard weighs as much as what is heard.

I come to every project with a clear intention, and at the same time I stay open to what others bring. Over the years I understood the weight of the word: when to speak and when to stay silent, what is stated and what is suggested. It’s no accident that I work in a medium where silence, too, carries meaning.

My work chases a single thing, simple to name and hard to achieve: to make you feel. A genuine emotion, born of an authentic experience. I don’t want something to sound pretty; I want it to feel true, and for that moment to stay — to come back later, somewhere else, when you least expect it.

I don’t want it to sound pretty; I want it to feel true.

From that search The Nation was born: the idea of a creative nation, a force gathered to create and to make people feel. More than a studio, it’s a way of being in the craft.

I was born ahead of time. I grew up knowing I had earned the chance to be here, and with it, the task of finding what for. To make people feel is my answer.