interview | ry x

As daylight lingered over Portugal’s YARD Festival’s white sand hills, the festival seemed to exhale. The moment asked for nothing but attention, and that’s when RY X stepped onto the stage. There are artists who adapt themselves to a setting, then there are those whose work appears to complete it. For years, the Australian singer-songwriter’s music has existed in quiet dialogue with the natural world. His set marked one of only a handful of live performances the artist has chosen to give this year. In conversation with Schön!, RY X reflects on his relationship with creativity, connection and his next project, revealing an artist guided by intention rather than by expectation.

You performed as the sun was beginning to set over YARD’s landscape. What did that moment feel like from where you were standing? 

It was one of the rare live shows this year, because I’ve been taking some time to record a new album, so it had a gravity to it already before I even walked out.  As I started to get closer to the stage, you just felt it build. There’s an intuitive connection you start to have with shows where you know if it’s going to be one that you really enjoy or one that has a certain feeling to it or not. I was like, oh, this feels really good, this feels like it might be special.  I think it was like marking the beginning of summer for a lot of people, so there was this palpable want to feel deeply and also be joyous, and I think those two things together was a really beautiful environment to walk into.

You mentioned this would be one of only a few live performances this year. What was it about this particular gathering that drew you in?

I love Portugal. I love the energy there. The community has been really celebratory around my music. And the lineup also. Bonobo played after me, he is a friend of mine. There’s a lot of trust, there’s a community. [YARD] asked us, ‘do you want to play with a string quartet? Do you want to do the sunset set for us on closing day?’ It just felt like a body yes, and I try to trust that as much as I can. 

Landscape and environment often feel deeply harmonious with your music. Is there a particular place or setting that felt like the truest reflection of both you and your work?

Getting to play outside in really incredible locations, where the land itself has a beautiful energy inherently adds a beauty and gravity to the moment. To me, it’s an honour to play these sacred times of day where the light, sky and earth are naturally changing. It feels almost like a duty of the heart, to bring people from the day into the night.

Your live performances often feel almost ceremonial in their atmosphere. What is it that you’re searching for in those moments of shared presence?

Maybe what you’re naming as the ceremonial feeling is, for me, the experience of going inward. I’ve been deeply inspired by traditions such as Qawwali music or Indian classical music — the idea of people playing to spirit, or to an entity, while people witness that connection to something more divine. At a certain point, it became less about entertaining and more about allowing myself to experience something meaningful, with people witnessing that experience alongside me.  To be vulnerable on stage, to undress and give them your heart, there has to be a level of sacredness and trust. 

Connection is a recurring thread  throughout your work. How has your understanding of connection evolved over time? 

I feel most able to connect when I feel deeply connected to myself. For each of us, that’s probably the most complete feeling of connection.  I feel really joyous within my community and in the connection to the people I love. There’s a devotional quality to the relationships that matter most to me and the values that sit at the core of who I am. I’ve lovingly ignored the industry for most of my career and simply focused on making music, making art and sharing it with people. Because of that, I feel I have an inherently direct relationship with the people who listen to my music. There isn’t a record label, or a PR person, or a carefully constructed image standing between us. I’m simply expressing myself and sharing that with people, and as a result that connection feels very strong and pure.

Life has a way of challenging our beliefs about people and connection. What helps you keep your heart open? 

I think it starts with having a practice of noticing the beauty in your own life and allowing yourself to really hold it for a moment. It’s very easy to get caught up in always wanting more and constantly striving for the next thing. I’d also say that chasing your joy is incredibly important. Sometimes people carry a sense of guilt around doing what they love or following what brings them alive. I would always encourage people to create purpose through what they love, rather than separating the two.

As you move onto a new body of work, what territories do you feel yourself exploring?

At a time when so much music is built from samples and increasingly perfected through technology, this process has been very different. It starts with me sitting alone in a room with a guitar or a piano, playing a song and then building around it. This record feels like a deep return to the core of who I am as an artist and songwriter. I’ve been working with a gospel choir, recording strings, Hammond organ, pianos, horns and all these beautiful organic textures. The songs explore love, existential questions, lust and desire, the divine, and what it means to be alive through the experience of being human. I’m probably three-quarters of the way through the album. 

There is a sense of stillness that runs through much of your catalogue. In a world that feels increasingly fast and demanding, how do you stay connected to that stillness? 

The pace of everything feels exponential now. In some ways, it’s no longer about the song itself but the fifteen seconds people know from it. Sometimes it’s about saying you were at a show rather than the experience of the show itself. Our attention spans are changing — yours, mine, everyone’s. Maybe success isn’t about endless growth anymore, maybe it’s about depth. Is the work connecting with people deeply? To me, that matters more than anything. 

What feels most important to hold onto as you move into this next chapter? 

I want to put beauty into the world and have an impact that feels meaningful. At a time when the world is carrying so much pain, I think that begins with self-healing and self-growth. Waking up each day and choosing to devote yourself to becoming a better human being, not only for yourself but for the people around you. From a spiritual perspective, I think that’s what I’m really searching for. And then there’s the importance of simply revelling in this beautiful life. My spirit feels things deeply and I think that’s true of many artists and sensitive people. You can become overwhelmed by it, build walls around yourself and try to protect yourself from a harsh world. Or you can stand up to it, allow it to move through you, and remain open to the beauty of being alive. That’s the choice I try to make every day, to make this life beautiful.

Discover the rest of  YARD’s upcoming summer lineup on their website.

photography. Courtesy of Arden Vail Sanchez + YARD Festival
words. Sarah Diab