afterthought: hanna
sound, family, and the natural world
Last year, I moved close to a nature reserve on the outskirts of Amsterdam. As I started spending more time outside, I also began listening more deeply; sounds I would have passed by before began to reveal more detail. For me, sound is a way of tuning in – I mostly listen intentionally while walking outside. I often feel that, in a world that moves so fast, it is becoming harder to truly listen. To each other, but also to what is here right now. Maybe that is exactly why I consciously seek it out: deep listening.
That seeking was the reason why I started doing my own downtempo morning show at TNP, named Baba Yaga. Baba Yaga is a figure from Slavic folklore that I got to know through the incredible book Women Who Run With the Wolves. She is a wild woman, often described with two contradicting roles; she is neither fully good nor fully evil, which fascinates me. I wanted to dissect the myth of her through my show in order to understand her better, so once in a while I read out a story of Baba Yaga while I play downtempo music, often with influences and sounds that refer to the natural world.
I am often drawn to folkloric and organic sounds, combined with modern or experimental influences. I love mixing soft and dreamy music with tracks that carry a bit of an edge, creating a dynamic blend that is also in the character of Baba Yaga herself. An example of musicians creating that kind of sound is Pablo’s Eye, who describe themselves as a ‘temporary atmosphere rather than a band’. Listening to their songs, such as Amb 7, which also appears in this mix, can feel almost hypnotic.
Pablo’s Eye - Amb 7
My own relationship with music began early. I have no idea where the inspiration came from, but as a child I was into rap haha. I wrote lyrics and recorded myself using my sister’s microphone, and my grandfather burned CDs of them, for which I designed the covers myself. It was an intuitive way of expressing what I was feeling, and that search has never really stopped. Although rap feels more distant to me now, I am still looking for the same thing: how music can tell a story. The transition into DJing happened organically. The strong connection to music was always there, I loved collecting and listening, and that was enough at the time. After a night out with friends, some of whom had been DJing that evening, I started experimenting with their equipment the next morning while they were still asleep. Those quiet early hours, with downtempo music playing as the world slowly wakes up, immediately felt right. That feeling has stayed with me ever since.
Also, my father was a drummer in the post punk band Barby Pop, so he introduced me to more unpolished sounds. They were a raw and energetic band in Amsterdam in the 90s. Lately, I have been diving deeper into their music and developing a stronger admiration for their sound and lyrics, through which they expressed their feelings and experiences in a very honest, unfiltered way. I love that kind of authenticity; it feels refreshing to return to once in a while, especially in a music industry that seems to be becoming more and more neat and sleek.
Barby Pop - Tas Vol Emoties
What I find most beautiful about sound is that it is intangible – it may be the most immaterial art form there is, and one that we’ve passed on through time. Throughout history, music has been a way to heal, to tell stories, and to connect, especially in times of pain, oppression, or change. I think that is also why almost everyone, regardless of background, has some kind of relationship with music.
Another track that brings many elements together for me is Canto del Pilón, a Venezuelan folk song by Frank Harris and Maria Marquez that appears as the second to last track in this mix. The first time I heard it, at home while digging for music on Bandcamp, I immediately felt, wow, this is something I could listen to endlessly. You can hear a rooster crowing, along with the rhythm of a maize mortar – it feels closely tied to everyday life, yet at the same time it carries something universal. That is what often moves me in folkloric sounds: they deepen my sense of admiration for the natural world.
Frank Harris & Maria Marquez – Canto del Pilón
Sound is an ongoing thread in my life, and the more I follow it, the more things seem to fall into place. From those early moments of recording rap as a child to quietly experimenting with DJing in the early morning, music has remained a constant. It is where storytelling, intuition, and deep listening come together. In a world that can feel increasingly dark and dystopian, music offers me a way to stay close to the natural world, to remain grounded, and to let intuition guide me.
Listen to Hanna’s contribution to our mix series here:

