The Flow Between Sound and Silence

Aimée Portioli, known artistically as Grand River, creates soundscapes that feel alive; fluid, emotional, and spatial. Her work bridges the acoustic and electronic, the human and the digital, with an ear finely tuned to the subtleties of nature. Across her albums and installations, she has carved a unique voice within contemporary experimental music, one that invites listeners to pause, reflect, and simply listen.
We sat down with Aimée to talk about her origins, influences, process, her thoughts on technology and AI, and her latest installation, Symphony for Endangered Birds.
Introduction / Origins
How did Aimée become Grand River? What were some of the first things that happened in your life to put down a musical or creative path?
I have been engaged with sound and music for as long as I can remember. As a child, I started to play and study instruments such as the guitar and the piano, and I also sang in a choir from the age of five. During my early teenage years, I discovered audio software on my parents’ computer and began experimenting with editing, reversing sounds, and composing songs with lyrics. This marked a turning point, as I realised that I could shape sound in entirely new ways. The name Grand River emerged much later, yet the feeling behind it is rooted in the place where I grew up, surrounded by mountains and rivers. These environments profoundly influenced how I perceive movement, flow, and space in sound.

How has your identity and background shaped your relationship with music?
I am Dutch-Italian, and I have lived in both the Netherlands and Italy before moving to Berlin. Each place has left its mark on me, both consciously and unconsciously. My time in Italy, particularly in areas surrounded by nature, gave me a heightened sensitivity to the sounds of the environment: the cicadas, the water, the birds, and even the silence of open landscapes. That awareness remains present in my work, and I continue to search for it when I travel. On another level, I have always been fascinated by language and communication. I studied translation and wrote my thesis on how music itself can function as a language. This perspective led me to think differently about composition, as a means of communicating emotions and states of being without words.
Influence
What are some of your earliest memories of sound or music that shaped your creative outlook?
One of my earliest memories is of hearing my grandmother sing church choir music, while at home my mother would sing loudly along to popular and rock songs, with music playing throughout the day, both in the house and in the car. There was something magical about those voices blending together, giving me a profound sense of belonging. This inspired me to take up instruments myself and to begin creating my own songs. Watching my cousin play the guitar also sparked something within me. Performing on stage from a young age, singing in the choir with a live band accompanying us, was another deeply influential experience.
How have your influences evolved over time?

In the beginning I was more focused on songwriting, and I did that for many years. I wrote songs with lyrics, played guitar, and later performed in bands. I have always been drawn to emotional depth, to how sound can reflect an inner state, and that thread has stayed with me across the years and through the different genres I have explored. As you grow and change, your influences naturally shift as well.
Pineapple was such a beautiful debut. Can you share any memories from that record, and how your process has evolved since?
Pineapple was a very important release for me because it was my first full-length album, and it really felt like a statement. It doesn’t include any acoustic instruments; it is entirely electronic, reflecting the tools and ideas I was working with at the time. When I moved to Berlin I didn’t have my piano or cello with me, so I focused on the synthesisers I had in my studio. Since then, after getting my cello and piano back, I have definitely opened up more space for acoustic instruments again.
Creative Process and Collaboration

How do you usually begin a new piece or idea?
Sometimes I begin with a single recording, a voice, a subtle texture, or a melody and develop it by playing it by hand or sequencing it, letting that guide me. Other times I simply sit with one instrument and see what emerges. I like to take my time, layering and shaping until the piece reveals itself. It is never about forcing a structure; it’s more about listening and allowing the work to take form.
You often work across mediums: visual, sculptural, spatial. How do you choose who and what to collaborate with?
I have always been fascinated by the ways in which music interacts with other forms, such as visual art and installation. For me, collaboration is about connecting with people who share a similar sensibility and approach, whether they are visual artists, designers, or fellow musicians. My live projects, for example, often involve visual artists who help shape the atmosphere alongside the music. Looking ahead, I would like to explore more deeply collaborations with sculptural artists and investigate how their work could be integrated into sound installation pieces. I also have a strong desire to work with choirs once again.
AI and the Creative Arts
How do you feel about AI and related technologies being used in music and the arts?
I see AI as a tool. It does not replace creativity but can spark new directions and ideas. For me it is about how you use it rather than fearing it. I am curious to explore what it might offer for effects, instruments and sound design, for generating unexpected textures, for stretching and transforming recordings. At the same time I remain cautious about ethics and originality, and I would want to use AI in a way that extends my practice and opens new creative possibilities.
What concerns do you see around AI and creative industries today?
The main issue is when AI is used to copy or replace human work instead of enabling originality. That is a real concern, especially when artists’ work is taken without consent to train systems. For me that is a clear example of how it should not be used. Regulation is also important, because without guidelines and transparency it is difficult to ensure fairness and respect for creative labour. If it is treated responsibly, I believe AI can expand possibilities rather than reduce them, but there needs to be awareness and care in how it is developed and applied.

Symphony for Endangered Birds
Can you tell us how this project began and what you hoped to achieve through it?
Symphony for Endangered Birds started as a desire to give voice to the fragility of bird species around the world, particularly those threatened with extinction.

I selected recordings of seven endangered bird species, each representing a different continent, and wove their songs into a 28-minute, 7-channel composition.
The goal was to create not just a musical piece, but a space for deep listening and reflection, a way to evoke loss, beauty and urgency through sound, and to make people think what it might mean to lose these voices forever.
What was your experience like working with Neutone on this piece?
Working with Neutone was inspiring, the technology opened up sonic textures I wouldn’t have reached otherwise. It felt like extending my palette in unexpected ways. It was very interesting as I created background AI birdchoir layers as a droney pad.
You also collaborated with visual and sculptural artists for this installation. How did that come together?
For this project I collaborated with Brandon Locher, who created the drawings for the booklet, and with Federico Gargaglione, who designed the sculpture. I find it very exciting to cross into different artistic fields and bring them together with sound. Each medium has its own language, and when you combine them, you create a richer and more layered experience.
How did you approach working with the field recordings themselves?

For Symphony for Endangered Birds, I began by gathering recordings of endangered bird species and in the end selected one for each of the seven continents. Once I had those raw bird vocalisations, I treated them as both sound material and symbolic content. They were not simply samples, but voices carrying a sense of weight and urgency. I then wove these recordings together with electronic textures and composition, subtle synthesiser tones, and ambient processing so that the bird calls could live inside a spatial, immersive environment. Some of the songs remain recognisable, while others were stretched or layered to create the sense of fading echoes, almost like memories dissolving in time.
What can visitors expect when they enter the installation space?
The installation takes place in an extremely dimly lit room, centred around a sculpture by Federico Gargaglione that ends in a suspended white feather illuminated from above. The lighting on the feather and on the speakers was designed by a visual artist, which adds another layer of sensitivity to the atmosphere. The feather becomes a quiet visual point of focus around which the bird voices unfold. As soon as visitors step into the space, the multi-channel sound surrounds them and draws them into an act of listening.
What do you hope people take away from the experience?
My hope is that Symphony for Endangered Birds does not stay confined to the walls of the installation but instead continues to resonate as a sonic reminder afterwards also in other spaces. I would like people to leave with a greater awareness of how many voices in our environment are already threatened or disappearing, and to consider how they can respond. That might mean paying closer attention to the bird life around them, supporting conservation efforts, adopting more environmentally responsible habits, or simply carrying forward the idea that listening deeply and with care is itself a meaningful form of action.
The Future
What’s next for you? What does the rest of this year look like?
This year has already been rewarding, filled with many beautiful performances and the invaluable experience of presenting my installation, which was very well received. I am currently touring In Uno Spazio Immenso and Tuning the Wind, as well as performing DJ sets, all of which have been deeply inspiring. Towards the end of the year, when I return home, I will continue working on my new album, and I am greatly looking forward to creating new sound projects, records, live performances, and installations.
Aimée’s latest project, Symphony for Endangered Birds, exhibited at Germany’s Folkwang Museum and invited listeners to immerse themselves in its world of fragile beauty and sonic reflection. In addition to upcoming future dates for her installation, she continues to tour internationally with her shows Tuning the Wind and In Uno Spazio Immenso, bringing her evolving language of sound to audiences around the world.
You can follow Grand River’s work here: