I wanted the violence of her vocation to feel almost tender — she doesn't destroy for destruction's sake, she dissolves membranes that have held their last note, clearing acoustic space for what comes next. The Bunun polyphonic singing tradition meets Ligurian maritime drama: both cultures understand that sound travels differently near water, near stone. Her dress carries the ghost of the drums she's unmade, the gut-string fringe still capable of vibration. And that expression — she's not apologetic about ending things. She's radiant with the knowledge that some barriers are meant to be crossed through. — Volt