The second Interlude episode of the series invites critically acclaimed Serbian violinist, sound artist, poet and researcher Manja Ristić. Her work offers a much-needed opening towards listening within and beyond our surrounding environments, at the intersection between creative research, attentiveness to ecological systems and a very fragile, personal but always accessible framework for listening with and through the body.

The sense of unity with that of rupture
Four quite open and complex questions are the starting point for the creation of a rather personal guest mix that blends sound, imagination and memory. This new series is curated by sound artist and music producer Maria Papadomanolaki also known as Dalot for Igloo Magazine. Interlude focuses on female artists and aspires to highlight how exceptional, skillfully crafted and varied the responses can be.
The second episode of the series invites critically acclaimed Serbian violinist, sound artist, poet and researcher Manja Ristić. Her work offers a much-needed opening towards listening within and beyond our surrounding environments, at the intersection between creative research, attentiveness to ecological systems and a very fragile, personal but always accessible framework for listening with and through the body. A classically trained violinist (Belgrade Academy of Music, Royal College of Music), Ristić has an expansive experience and skill for understanding and interpreting the classical context into more experimental ways of working with sound and of blending the sense of unity with that of rupture, of distancing with that of reconciliation. Her artistic output is often interdisciplinary and her writing is poetic, suggestive but never conclusive.

Her most recent release titled lights shimmered like whispers in the depths of the trees (Sawyer Spaces, May 1st 2026) is a collection of two long-form compositions tracing the ancestral imprints of belonging to a land, to a country and to a past that was once built by bodies who dwelled, walked, dug and curved their stories before disappearing. The album features miniature recordings of water, land, air, insects, footsteps and found objects, Ristić collected from a variety of locations across Portugal, Italy, Austria and Croatia, blended seamlessly with carefully manipulated sounds and skillfully played instruments like violin, EMS synthesiser or piano.
The two pieces in the album offer a sustained listening experience through a deep, evocative soundworld, allowing the listener to empathize with what is heard, the places, the human and the more-than human, the wispers and the cracks on the forest-floor as if these sounds carry with them the stories of all that once was. The album is dedicated to Ristić’s grandmother Negosava Ristić, born Stefanović, and the youth of post—WW2 Yugoslavia, who built the country with their bare hands.
Manja has prepared a guest mix featuring a selection of pieces from her most recent releases and some unpublished material. As she notes in a short statement that accompanies the mix:
“Western epistemologies have long treated listening as a means of capture, and my practice deliberately turns away from this. It insists on listening as a way of communicating with the world rather than standing outside it. Listening is a disposition — a willingness to be altered and moved by the resonances that flow through bodies and environments. This willingness becomes particularly crucial in working with landscapes marked by trauma and ecological precarity. Negligence leaves absences, distortions, lack of continuity. I often try to trace how these residues accumulate and shape the acoustic ecologies of places, suggesting that they also influence how memory fluctuates and how futures become audible.” ~ Manja Ristić
The future always bleeds from the present ::
The mix is made in response to the following four questions for which Manja also wrote some thoughts:

Maria / Igloo :: What is the first sound that you listen when you remember the past?
Manja Ristić :: For a long time, it was the sound of the salinity of the Adriatic Sea, the crackle one hears when floating on the water. It comes from my childhood and from a fascination with this dense underwater sonic texture.
What is a sound that you are afraid that you will forget if you cannot hear it anymore?
Manja Ristić :: My mother’s voice. She passed away in 2007, and I don’t have a single recording of her. I often recreate her voice in my mind, yet the only realistic sensation of it appears in my dreams.
Is there a listening environment that you go to when you seek comfort?
Manja Ristić :: I often use noise-cancelling headphones without reproducing any sounds when I seek comfort. In that way, I can regulate my nervous system and concentrate on metacognitive observation of my inner state. Once I am settled, I listen with my whole body-mind to the content that favours deep vibes over basic sensorial soothing.
What is the sound of the future and how should we listen to it?
Manja Ristić :: The sound of the future is the silencing of the engines. It is an ocean without noise pollution, a flower field full of bees buzzing, a rain forest in its full sonic glory. Once we move beyond fossil fuels, the transition into sonic naturalism begins. The sound of the future is our physiological hearing range extended to infrasonic and ultrasonic frequencies. It is also an AI voice in our heads. The sounds of the future are extreme weather conditions. Time spent in an anechoic chamber becomes normalized as a common health routine. The sound of the future is the live stream from the Marianas Trench and from other planets. We are already listening to these sounds. The future always bleeds from the present.

Mix tracklist / author / album / “track name” / publisher ::
Manja Ristić – lights shimmered like whispers in the depths of the trees – “bore its wounds in silence, excerpt” – Sawyer Spaces, 2026
Manja Ristić – Lisboa – “Aeroporto” – self-release, 2026
Manja Ristić – tiho spuštanje – unpublished
Manja Ristić & Mark Vernon – Volim Beograd – “Ljubavna poruka (Pozovite službu 988)” – Kamizdat, 2026
Manja Ristić – Sargassum Aeterna – “Wounded Sky” – Rekem Records, 2025
Manja Ristić & Tomáš Šenkyřík – Vstal – “Melanchólia” – Skupina, 2024
Manja Ristić – lights shimmered like whispers in the depths of the trees – “thick green bed of a land” – Sawyer Spaces, 2026
lights shimmered like whispers in the depths of the trees is available on Sawyer Spaces. [Bandcamp]
Credit for featured image: Unforeseen Experimental Film Festival, CZKD Belgrade, ph Milica Cvetković.























