Exploring Esssena's Islands of Sound

For Toronto-based experimental artist Esssena (Husna Farooqui), sound is a tool for placemaking. Growing up in Bermuda, she became attuned to the particular sounds of the islands: tree frogs calling at night, the ebb and flow of the ocean, the reverberations of old rooms and buildings. She began recording these sounds without yet knowing what they would become, but knowing for certain that they might not be around long enough to be heard again. Years later, they became part of her live performances, woven into an ever-changing practice that treats sound as a world the listener can step into.

She calls this world a “sonic island,” a phrase that turns the familiar idea of a sonic field inside out. Esssena thinks about sound as something that can contain infinite depths within a finite space, shaped by the relationships of the things that inhabit it. But her practice also incorporates more than representing these soundscapes alone: her performances make use of sheet metal, chains and contact microphones, producing environments that can feel as immersive as they are unpredictable.

For her upcoming performance at the tenth anniversary edition of Venus Fest—a festival dedicated to providing a gender-expansive, trans, and femme-forward space in the industry—she is developing “An Incantation of Spirits,” a new work inspired by the voices and forces of the natural world. In the lead up to her September 20 performance, co-presented by New Feeling, I spoke with her over video call to talk about her process, musical inspiration, philosophy, diasporic experiences, our shared island backgrounds, and what it means to be performing at Venus Fest's milestone festival this year. 

Daniel G. Wilson: What can you tell me about the “sonic island” concept?
Esssena: When I started having to write bios and stuff, I would talk about a “sonic island.” And that was a metaphor I was working with because it was kind of like a play on the phrase sonic field, but thinking of a sonic field a little bit differently based off of my experience growing up on an island and making it into an island instead. For me, it invokes something different because I feel like with the sonic field, it's this flat plane that can extend out infinitely. Whereas with the sonic island, it's not an extension infinitely outwards, but it's an extension infinitely inwards, like something that contains itself. With an island, there is a boundary.

Can you tell me a bit about your process?
I think a lot of my sound actually comes from this consciousness of place. I didn't know that the stuff that I was recording in Bermuda [in 2025] was going to become part of my sound later on. It's complicated because I’m not Bermudan, but I grew up there. I was there from the time that I was two years old to basically 18. And there's just this sense with islands, especially an island as small as Bermuda, that with the way that the world is going, like the sounds that I grew up with will be extinct one day. They’re just going to be underwater. And there are so many sounds that are so distinct to Bermuda, especially the Bermuda tree frogs that come out at night. I had wanted to record these sounds, so that's what I basically ended up doing that summer. I went around Bermuda. I was recording different things that I heard, the ocean, the tree frogs. I revisited places. There's this unfinished church on one end of the island. I went there and I took some field recordings in that space. In my childhood, I went to a really small primary school, which was attached to a mosque. I went in there as well, actually secretly I broke in a little bit [laughs].

I recorded in these old rooms that used to contain so much memory for me. I just developed this library, this inventory, and then I came back and I wasn't doing anything with them. But then I had a friend who is the vocalist for the industrial project called Grief Debt. They were gonna do their debut show at St. Stephen’s [church and venue in Toronto], they’re friends of mine and had invited me to perform. I hadn’t performed a live set before like ever, and I just said yes, I'll do something. The idea was I was supposed to actually do this movement thing with one of her friends and be like a weird backup, but that changed and I was like, ‘I don't even do that. I can't do this performance art thing that you want me to do.’ And she's like, ‘that's cool. You know, do whatever you want,’—really such a sweetie pie. So I ended up doing something with sound. And actually, that was the first time I was trying to develop a sound and a live set. That was when I started using those field recordings that I took in Bermuda and created a live set out of that. 

I also had this setup with a sheet metal and a chain braided into my hair. The sheet metal had a contact mic on it and then as you run the chain over this metal sheet, it kind of sounds like waves. And I later did more noisier things with that. But from then on, every single time I’ve performed and done music, it’s been a different setup and I’m kind of trying to do something else. I do think that what ties it together is this immersive sound that evokes a sonic world. That was something that I was thinking about a lot.

What is the origin of the name Esssena?
I wanted a name that derived from my own personal name, but something that has its own character. When you sound it out, “esssena” sounds like “s” “n” “a” (which are the last 3 letters of my real name). But also Esssena sounds like an actual meaningful name somehow, a being larger than me that I could invoke and channel. It also reminds me of the word ‘essence’ and the extra s’s have a snake-like quality to them, which feels protective. Snakes are still the medicine symbol today, and maybe there’s that aspect subconsciously as well, in terms of my feeling of music as ‘medicine’ or healing—though not just [that] of course.

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You are performing at Venus Fest’s 10th year anniversary.  Are you excited?
I’m a little nervous. As far as the current set, I’m actually trying to develop some new material for this Venus Fest special. And so I haven't posted about this yet. I will before the show, but essentially the original music for the most part, it will be called an “Incantation of Spirits.” Basically, it’s going back to this whole sonic island concept that I have, but bringing it out even more and also kind of reversing the equation.

“An Incantation of Spirits” is basically my reflection of the nature spirits, the earth spirits, the water spirits, and the ways that they voice themselves to you, the ways that they inhabit and speak and connect. In the natural world as well, it can be very beautiful, but it can also be very brutal, it can be very violent and if you don't respect the natural world, there can be rage and you can be very quickly and suddenly put in your place if you don’t come with respect. So, the rage of the elements but also that rage creating a clearing as well, because I find with thunderstorms and stuff, there’s still this feeling of release and catharsis and the air feels better, you know, even if there’s been devastation and destruction.

A lot of times, people experience nature and the sounds of nature as “background” (or even as “background music” with ten hour bird/rain/jungle/forest soundscapes). But with “An Incantation of Spirits,” what I’m trying to work through is the understanding of nature as something with many beings that are alive and very present. These are beings that sing, make themselves known, that nourish, interfere, rage, rebel, demand respect. Beautiful, but also capricious. This is not about just idyllic meadows. It’s about the fuller experience and one that encompasses beauty in the same breath as brutality. One that forces us to see our relationship with nature on more equal terms (i.e., as beings, and humans are not really separate from nature). Or perhaps, rather unequally in terms of how much power the natural world really has over us…

You have some history with the festival right?
I've been going to Venus Fest basically since I found out about it, which was a few years ago. I went to see rEmpit g0dDe$$, who is a Southeast Asian DJ and producer. I think there's some really amazing things happening in Southeast Asia, specifically, you know, Malaysia and Indonesia. Really interesting sound cultures. And I was trying to explore that as well when I was in the Philippines and get connected to that because those rhythms are just amazing. So I knew rEmpit g0dDe$$ and I found out that she was playing for Venus Fest. 

I think that was also the same year that Evicshen was playing maybe as well, whose project I didn't know beforehand, but then experienced it and obviously it's an addicting experience and very physical. I saw Evicshen again through the music gallery and then again, this summer. So I love Venus Fest.

This interview has been edited and condensed for length.