After 13 years, I’ve released my first personal composition. Dez de Janeiro marks a turning point—not from creative block to productivity, but from constraint to freedom. I no longer compose imprisoned by unrealistic aspirations. Just pure music.

This hiatus doesn’t mean I wasn’t composing. I was, constantly—but only in response to commercial requests. Commercial work has sustained me for decades, and I’ve always believed my music should be my primary source of income. Personal work doesn’t yield instant returns, so I focused on what paid. But when the escape valve is tapped, your anima starts to decay. I’ve been struggling with this urge to create something for myself for ages. Now I’ve decided to let it out, detached from any pressure.

Arvo Pärt experienced a similar struggle. After the controversial reception of his Credo (1968), which Soviet authorities considered provocative for its religious content, Pärt fell out of favor and stopped composing in his earlier, complex, atonal style. He felt unable to express himself through the music he had inherited. For eight years (1968 to 1976), he immersed himself in the intense study of medieval and Renaissance music, Gregorian chant, and Notre Dame school polyphony. Pärt reemerged in 1976 with an entirely new, minimalist style he named “tintinnabuli” (Latin for “little bells”)—characterized by simplicity, slow spacious grace, and a reduction of music to its elemental components.

Pärt’s journey resonated deeply. I decided to take a leap of faith and started composing with no obligation to meet any labeling or composition criteria. I pulled everything stuck inside and composed an instrumental track to express my current state. Leveraging my scoring techniques and background influences, it emerged as something neoclassical—though not in a conventional way. Unlike Pärt, I’m not following strict rules or founding a new style. Maybe it cannot even be considered neoclassical, but it isn’t electronic or ambient either. It exists somewhere between the styles I feel comfortable writing.

Dez de Janeiro is the first in a series I’ll release through mid-2026—not from pressure, but from momentum and accountability. The natural step after this will be live performances. Once again, on stage. No strings attached.