Karen Willems – Belgian percussionist and sound artist – emerges as an everchanging nonconformist creator. She started out in pop-rock bands (Zita Swoon Group, Yuko) before exploring improvisation and sound experimentation – from the Inwolves project to the solo Terre Sol (2020) and the Terre Sol Four quartet. Her motto – “There are those who conform and those who confront and never stop transforming” – is evident in her search for new possibilities in both the smallest gestures and the largest movements.
Willems works intuitively – in her attic room, she combines percussion, found objects, and field recordings in such a way that the boundaries between sound sources become blurred and surprise the listener. For her, improvisation is a form of self-revelation – the purest and most sensitive form.
In this interview, we talk about the creative process, objects-instruments, the role of improvisation, and how to build music that is close to everyone – without prejudice, full of surprise and delight.
Artur Mieczkowski
Artur Mieczkowski: Your motto is “There are those who conform – and those who confront – and never stop transforming.” How do this ‘confrontation’ and “transformation” manifest themselves in your artistic work?
Karen Willems: I try to search, explore, and discover new possibilities in my performance. In the smallest gestures and the biggest movement. By constantly challenging myself, I grow, as an artist and as a human being. In times when expectations run high, being surprised is a gift, and a sense of wonder is the most beautiful thing there is.
A.M.: In your solo project Terre Sol, you are charting a very personal path – how did it come about, and what was the impulse behind it?
K.W.: After years of being in service to other musicians, I felt the need to develop my own path. During the pandemic, everything shifted. It was a relief to create without pressure or haste. To feel space, to have time, and to discover that even without a schedule, the need to play remains.
I believe we need smaller, more intimate moments together. That’s what drives me, to truly connect. Far from the industry, close to the essence of music.
A.M.: Initially, you played in rock and pop bands (including Zita Swoon Group and Yuko) – how did that experience influence your current approach to percussion and sound?
K.W.: I love melodies and a good groove, something I definitely carried with me from my work in the pop-rock scene. Since then, my music has evolved more toward improvisation and my own compositions, within a more abstract form. I find it important to land from time to time in a place where a melody or rhythmic passage becomes essential. At least, that’s where I’m drawn too.
I want to make music for everyone, not only for the intellectuals that have already heard it. There’s something deeply beautiful about touching and surprising people who aren’t yet familiar with your music. That’s where something pure happens.
A.M.: You often use field recordings and various percussion objects—how do you choose these “objects”/instruments/conscious recordings—what determines what you will use?
K.W.: I work intuitively in my attic room. Percussion and found objects, toys find their way into my playing in a simple, direct way. Each sound gets a space. Field recordings bring you to other worlds, blending with the moment and the room, creating unexpected connections between the familiar and the unknown. I love it when, as a listener, you can no longer tell where the sounds are coming from. That sense of confusion and curiosity makes listening exciting.
A.M.: Please tell us about your creative process: from the idea for a composition or improvisation to the final material—what stages do you go through and what do you focus on most?
K.W.: I work quite fast, guided by the moment. Melodies, sounds, and movements that stay with me, I work with. And I need room for a little noise and a little imperfection. I don’t let material linger for a year. By then, my attention has already shifted to what’s calling me next.
A.M.: In the Grichte release, you combined solo exploration and a saxophone quartet—why did you decide on this division, and what is each “part” meant to express?
K.W.: With the double LP Grichte, I wanted to reveal myself in different facets. The first album solo as an explorer, the second one as a composer. It’s a journey beyond the role of drummer or percussionist, toward the full spectrum of my musical identity. With the brass ensemble, I let a repetitive, almost overwhelming sound emerge, while also exploring solo possibilities and subtle textures. The result is a play between the power of the collective and the delicate sensitivity of the individual.
A.M.: You draw inspiration from nature and everyday life—is there a specific place or moment that particularly sticks in your memory—and that shaped a particular piece or project?
K.W.: I grew up and live in a village, among creeks and polders. Earth, wind, silence. Seemingly ordinary, yet that is where the beauty lies. It’s in the small things. I don’t need to seek out exotic places for inspiration. I find it here. Nature brings calm and guides me through life. That’s important, because I am a bit restless…
A.M.: What role does improvisation play in your art—do you treat it as a tool for exploration or rather as a structural element of exposing yourself to the “unknown”?
K.W.: I believe improvisation truly exposes you. It lets you reveal a piece of yourself. In that way, it might be the purest and most vulnerable form of music. At times it can be frightening, yet it’s precisely that tension that sparks, that makes each moment of playing come alive.
A.M.: You have collaborated with many musicians and in various configurations – what do you think determines good improvisational collaboration?
K.W.: In improvisation, you never know what will emerge. What matters is the connection and mutual respect with the musician beside you. Taking the music seriously, without losing the playfulness. The ability to play intensely while laughing together, that is what makes the magic possible. What makes it human.
A.M.: Do you have any plans for sound experiments or forms that you haven’t tried yet (for example, sound installations, recordings in extreme environments, collaboration with other art forms)?
K.W.: I often have doubts about the music scene and my place within it. As I grow older, so does the desire to give back, to create meaning for others. Music can not be only about oneself. There are so many other paths to explore.
That’s why I’m involved more in social-artistic projects. Sometimes I work with people with disabilities around improvisation, and it’s incredibly enriching. It brings me immense joy to work with them. They are amazing and they teach me so much.
A.M.: How important is the visual aspect to you—album covers, videos, concert stage design—and do you personally participate in this?
K.W.: For artwork, most of the time I collaborate with my partner Dominiek Claeys. He creates work that naturally reflects my musical world. Always staying true to what moves us.
Music videos often feel unnecessary to me. They rarely resonate and often feel like wasted money. The same goes for stage lighting and design. I understand it works for some acts, but being placed in the dark and overwhelmed by anxious light shows doesn’t suit me. We need to see each other. A wink, a shared laugh… that’s what feels right to me.
A.M.: Looking back on your journey so far, is there anything you would do differently in hindsight?
K.W.: Of course, there are moments when I feel frustrated and disappointed, and that I wish I had approached differently. Yet it is precisely these stumbles and missteps that enrich you as a person. Making mistakes is essential. We should try to embrace them. They are necessary in life, in learning and growing.
A.M.: What are your immediate artistic plans—is there anything the public can look forward to in the near future?
K.W.: I have a few solo concerts coming up, and at home I’m exploring how to bring them to life. At the same time, I’m also working behind my drum kit. There’s a new awareness in my playing. I am discovering new things. The surrender is there, always.., and I can also feel it weighing on my body after years. Aaaiiiii! The joy of getting older.
Ah, maybe that is something to look forward to. ‘An old lady on an ergonomic stool, keeping herself under control.’ (which will probably not gonna happen).
A.M.: Thank you very much for the interview. I wish you the best of luck with your plans.
K.W.: You too Artur!