Interview with Justin Karas
Last name pronounced like Paris
Record Cover for Flowers Wild Abound
This is an transcription of a zoom interview with artist Justin Karas from Vitriol Records.
This is your first solo linked album. What inspired you to finally take the leap and create something entirely your own, and like, how did you feel throughout the process?
So I've made other records under other names. This is the first one that I've made under my own name, and it felt like a significant change. I don't know what I'm like in my midlife era. I'm wearing my friend's shirt. It says midlife chrysalis on it. So it's like a midlife rebirth, you know, moment for me and I started playing the harp about five and a half years ago, right before the pandemic, and it did feel like a really big turning point. So before I played piano and guitar, and I just fell in love with the instrument, and it sort of made me write new songs after a really long hiatus. I had a really long break where I didn't perform at all, so it kind of felt like the beginning of something new. And it felt right to release this record under my own name as a sort of like rebirth coming out of my cocoon.
The title Flowers Wild Abound. It talks about nature and freedom and growth. How do those themes reflect your own personal or artistic journey throughout making this record?
Well, I think part of the rebirth aspect of this like point and my musical endeavors speaks to that. I've always admired flowers for how effortlessly they grow, and yet they're so complex and they're so fragile yet so resilient, and they kind of embody these two different realms. And I remember just noticing, when I was looking at all the songs that I wanted to explore for this record, that the theme was really woven through everything. It wasn't necessarily intentional. It feels like more of a subconscious thing that just happened. And when I was playing around with titles and how to kind of address that theme, I came across an image of an archeological dig in which the skeletons of two people were found holding each other. And there've been a few instances of these kinds of things being uncovered, and they're often referred to as the lovers of wherever they're found. So the lovers of Valero are a really famous example. And I had this sort of fantasy that, what if, for the, you know, hundreds of or 1000s of years in which these lovers were buried under the soil. What if the flowers that were growing over top of where they were communicating their love for each other? So it's picturing like, you know, a field that was somewhat barren, and yet this one patch where the most beautiful flowers grew, and everybody would come around and admire them and feel that love resonating through them. And there's a little bit of that thought process in some of the songs as well. I'm not sure I fully understand it, but every time I really think about it, it really connects to a lot of parts of my own life.
You worked with and the unusual makes of instruments like the harp, the strings and vibraphone and even a pedal. Still, how did you weave those sounds together to form a cohesive style? And were you surprised by any combinations?
Yeah, I was surprised by a lot of the combinations. And it wasn't. It was a process of experimentation and sort of slowly working my way through the arrangements with Sarah Page, who produced the record with me. She's kind of my harp mentor. I'm, like, mostly self taught, but she's become a good friend of mine. She's an incredible harpist, and she's given me a lot of tips and a few lessons on proper technique. And I was really lucky to work with her on this record. So she produced it and helped me with all the arrangements. And I knew I wanted it to be orchestral once we started taking on that process. And so I was drawing from the people that are around me that we knew that played these instruments. And. And I don't really know if I was surprised by the way things sounded, but there was a moment with Michael foyer stack, who also mixed the record. He plays pedal steel on the record, and we've gotten to play live together a few times, and there's definitely a way in which the harp and the pedal steel speak to each other that blows my mind, and part of that is that they actually have pretty similar mechanisms. They're both affected by pedals that change the pitch and the keys that the strings are in. So the strings are sort of being either, you know, fretted or flexed with the pedals. They're plucked in the same way, but they have very different colors and cameras, and they kind of seem to Yin Yang, you know, like to feel each other in a really beautiful way. That was probably one of my most favorite kinds of musical things that I walked into that I didn't expect or know that it existed. I don't know if a lot of people have done like, pedal steel, heart combos.
So many of the songs that I've listened to from you, like blur the line between personal emotion and the natural world. Was that intentional? Or did it evolve naturally as you wrote it?
That's a really good observation, and it's definitely intentional. I think I'm always writing in a way that I'm trying to combine a few layers of thought to expose or explore how interconnected they are. And so to me, emotions are kind of our natural hour, you know, like we have we, I think we live in a society and culture that is really confused about emotion.We are often people that are sensitive are often told they're too sensitive and that they need to reel it in or edit it or hide, you know, what they're feeling from other people in order to conform. I think emotions are part of one of our ultimate superpowers, and it's very deeply linked to creative processes that are part of that. And so, yeah, I was trying to write in this way where a line or a statement could be about the natural world, or it could be about our own personal emotional landscape or my own personal experience, in order to put on display how those things are connected.
What song do you think best captures that connection for you? In your opinion?
Well, I do think the opening song, which is also the title track, flowers, while the bound does it in the most literal way, because there's a lot of flowers that are named, and all those flowers are named because of the symbolic presence that they might have. So I was doing a lot of research about how certain flowers represent certain things. Typically, obviously, symbolism is relative, but that song, to me, is a definite component of that. I think borders is an interesting song in that regard, because it takes it to a slightly different level where it's maybe not so much like the natural world is borderless. I mean, we've built this system of borders. We've enclosed land, called it our own indigenous cultures would would, I think, rightfully say that there's no such thing as owning land, and land is a gift to us, and if we engage with it in reciprocity, then we are giving gifts back, and that's a more natural exchange with with land. And the natural world at Borders is doing a similar thing where, you know, I'm kind of insinuating that there's these ways in which land has been segmented to keep us safe. But then I'm also talking about personal boundaries, or ways that we protect ourselves, or build walls between us and other people because we think it's going to make us feel safer, when in fact, connection is something that we need. Boundaries are also something that we need. So it's very complicated, but, yeah, I think those are the two songs that come to mind right off the top of my head.
The track “Tonight” has been described as like a dark, poetic elegy. What was happening in your life or mine when you wrote it and did it start from like a lyric or melody? You're feeling and how has it changed for you over time?
“Tonight” is, in my mind, it's always been a song about how Death and life are interlinked. So we have this, like, you know, common human fantasy, like, what would it mean to live forever? How would we actually take advantage of that? Feels like an exciting thought, but there is no such thing as eternal life, because death is as much a part of life as life is. And so that song was sort of sitting with that idea of how to be in harmony with the natural world, is to accept death and also to acknowledge that death is not just something that comes to the end of life, but it's also something that comes that gives way to the beginning of life. So the cycle of death and rebirth, when I first wrote it, like a lot of my songs, I don't fully understand, like, what I'm what I'm singing about, and the the reckoning with it is, like, the more I sing it, the more I think about my own death. And it does feel a little bit heavy to sing it every time. And that wasn't necessarily an experience I had when I wrote it. I was just thinking about the poetry of it all, but I hold it a lot closer now.
How did collaborating with Sarah Pagé shape the sound or vision of the full album?
It shaped it in such a profound way I don't really understand, like, I can't think of how this record could have existed without her, and she brought a level of focus and energy and discipline to the process that was just a huge learning experience. Just observing her work and getting to work alongside her, it's like, okay, people can work with this amount of like focus. I didn't even think it was possible. It's a bit intimidating. And she has, I mean, she's been like that for her whole life, so she has an amount of knowledge and skills that is just so far above and beyond anything that I've ever been able to develop, and on a very practical level, like for the arrangements, for example, she, you know, I was like writing the arrangements the way that I know how, and I would bring them to her, and then she would bring her knowledge of composition that comes from classical training to it. She would observe it. She would give me notes on what to change. And also, kind of like, teach me about some of the general basic rules of composition, which was like a master class in arrangement for me. And she did that just out of her inherent sense of generosity that I think she brings to everything. So, yeah, this record owes itself to her. I mean, it's, it's really, I really feel so deeply grateful that I was able to work with her.
Was there a particular moment in the studio that changed how you saw the project — maybe a ‘happy accident’ or a breakthrough during recording?
There was one moment that was kind of like that. So there's a song called “The Letter” on the record, and that song is just a harp voice and then a string trio. And we recorded that, and most of the arrangements at Sarah's studio, which is in a town called Morin Heights. It's about an hour north of Montreal, and on this particular day, there's like the most incredibly violent rain and thunderstorm that I've ever experienced that was passing through the town. It was there all day, and the power kept going out and coming back on every time the lightning struck, like the windows would rattle. My dog was with me, and he was terrified. So I was like, I was really stressed about the whole thing. And the string trio that we were working with called Warhol Dervish and Sarah who they're all professional classical musicians, they were just. Like, unfazed by it, just like, completely chill. And we're like, well, we'll get it when we get it. And, like, just as soon as the power would go back on, they were just like, right back into it. I have, like, so much anxiety in general. I was like, I cannot fathom how to deal with this scenario with that much grace and that much like, you know, elegance. I was like, Okay, so, yeah, it was really eye opening. I was like, I want to be like that. I want to just, like, ride the wave of chaos. Because that's what like making music is, a lot of the time, like playing shows, like, there's so many elements you can't control. And I, you know, I think a lot of people, including myself, get caught up in it, and, yeah, I learned how I would like to be, and I'm trying to work towards that.
If someone’s listening to Flowers Wild Abound for the very first time, which song would you tell them to start with, and why? What do you hope they feel or notice first?
I think that I would like people to start with “Nature, Nature”, because it's the most bare song. It's just harp and vocals. That's how I usually perform as well. And I think that would give people a chance to see the skeleton before they see the fully formed, you know, entity. And there's also a sense that it, along with the title track, kind of contains some of the major themes of the whole record. It's about our relationship with the natural world, about life cycles, death and rebirth, and about love as a force for growth. Yeah. And then I would hope that they would be like, This is great. And then they would hear stuff with all the arrangements, be like, Wow. Next level, you know.
Translating like this record into a live performance, like you said that you've done before. How do you capture the layers and like the delicate sound on the stage?
I've performed these songs with just harp and voice and I always write with the intention that it would be enough to just have the instrument and my voice, like when I play by myself and write music, I'm like trying to do something that's interesting enough for myself without having to have those arrangements. So the arrangements are like this extra bonus thing. But I did have a show a few weeks ago in Montreal where I got to play with a bunch of other musicians that are on the record and it was a big learning experience, and it made me realize how special it can be to have those arrangements captured. That said it's really hard in most venues to deal with these kinds of instruments and to amplify them. Like the harp alone is a very difficult instrument to amplify. So yeah, I guess that's my that's my thought around that question is, I hope that it's enough just to have the skeletal structure of the song, because it's definitely easier to manage playing live, and that I like the idea that somebody would have these two contrasting experiences with the song, like get to See something very vulnerable and bear live, and then they maybe, if they feel compelled to listen to the record, there's all this, like bonus, sort of flourishing blossom blossoming Around the songs.
Now that the album is out, how has it changed your sense of who you are as an artist — or what kind of music you want to make next?
I think putting out an album is like a pretty humbling experience, especially in this, like, current musical landscape I've been in. I felt really grateful for everyone that's been listening. I also feel like, it's you, it's a really difficult thing to be graceful about. I mean, I feel like, like I don't have any kids, and to me, the songs that I make, or the paintings that I make, like, those are kind of my babies. And I, when I put out a record or finish a painting and like, you know, share it, or whatever it's like. I want my babies to do well in the world, I want to. I want them to have, like, the fullest life possible. And for songs, that means people listening and engaging. Getting something out of it. I don't know if it has changed me as an artist? I'm not it's only been out for, like, what's the date? It's been less than two months. So I'm not sure yet if I felt any like shift. I'm still negotiating what it means to me. But I think for the next one, I already have a lot of new songs, and I'm at a crossroads. Like, I kind of feel like I could either let go of making it really precious. I'm kind of drawn to like, doing something that's a little bit more like, like punk ass, you know, as Michael would say or do, something that's even more ambitious and somehow push the format that I've worked with on this record even more, maybe, like, you know, a bigger orchestral setting. I don't know, it's one or the other in my mind right now, so I'll let you know.
When experimenting with the different instruments like you've mentioned before. Is it a struggle to keep, like the clear emotional tone? Or how does that work?
I think so in some ways, yeah, because the way that the songs have to be recorded as I lay down my tracks first and then we build around them. And there were a couple instances where, once we had a bunch of different instruments also articulating and guiding the emotional, sort of ebbs and flows of the songs. My voice didn't sit in the mix. I mean, it's not that it didn't sit in the mix like sound wise, the emotion was sort of out of step, like I felt like I didn't sound like I wasn't giving enough, you know, and so I did have to go back a couple times and redo the vocals, because they felt so informed by that new sonic landscape. So there's a negotiation that definitely happened.
Do you see nature as a metaphor for human emotion, or as its own character in the music?
I think I see human emotion as part of nature. I think I see them as the same thing. I feel like our perception has divided them. And there's a lot of tricks of the mind that make us feel like we are some sort of, like, contained entity. And I yeah, like, I'm not, I'm not convinced that, like, flowers don't feel emotion or trees, I would be I would willingly believe that emotion exists in every living thing, and maybe drives some sort of Clockwork or mechanism to the the entire natural world of which we are apart of. I hope that it would be, I think, an extension of human emotion, rather than a metaphor. A character is maybe a better way to say it like a character as a representation for these things, because they are one in the same.