Nadia Struiwigh: “I’ve always imagined myself as a sort of fairy creature, and for a long time, I felt like I had to hide that part.”

Nadia Struiwigh (Photo: Katja Ruge)

Dutch musician Nadia Struiwigh, currently based in Berlin, approaches sound both as a diary and a laboratory. Since 2009, she has been recording the ebb and flow of her life experiences and inspirations, building an intimate archive of sonic experiments. As Nadia herself has noted in interviews, each session is a moment of raw revelation—a meditative unraveling of emotion, memory, and the unpredictable rhythms of day-to-day life.
A devoted synthesizer artist, Nadia has meticulously assembled a custom rig featuring Korg, Moog, and Skulpt instruments. These tools serve as her passport to the interstitial realms where experimental ambient, downtempo, and techno converge. She has a very special ability to sculpt immersive soundscapes that breathe, shift, and pulse with a life force uniquely their own.

Her releases on respected European labels such as Dekmantel, Central Processing Unit, Denovali, and Nous’klaer Audio speak volumes about the distinct voice she commands within the electronic music scene. In interviews, Nadia reveals that her growing interest in sound healing is more than just an aesthetic choice—it is an exploration of how music can serve as a therapeutic conduit, unifying artistic expression with the restorative powers of sonic therapy.
Both Katja and Nadia were still riding the creative wave from the night before when they met for the shoot—Nadia had just wrapped a synth workshop, and Katja had hosted one of her signature “Electric Lights” happenings with Joyce Muniz at the Planetarium Hamburg. On top of that, Nadia had a double date with music, also playing a late-night set at the Elbphilharmonie.

Before drifting into the photo session, the two shared lighthearted and beautiful moments from their nights. The energy between them was airy and effortless, as if they had known each other forever—even though it was one of their first real meetings.

Nadia, which music was the first to truly touch, inspire, or move you? What made it so special?

Nadia Struiwigh: Ahh, I really love this question—even though it’s probably one of the hardest to answer. I’ve lived through so many musical phases, and each chapter of my life has come with its own emotional soundtrack. Honestly, it feels like I’ve lived five lives in one already, and each one has left a mark on my palette.

My earliest inspirations definitely came from home. My parents had such impeccable taste in music. I grew up listening to Dire Straits, Pink Floyd, Enya, Genesis… that was the kind of atmosphere I was immersed in. Music was always playing around the house, and it was deeply woven into our daily life. I remember watching MTV and TMF religiously every day as a kid—just mesmerized. Something in me just knew. Like there was this little voice saying, “This is your world. This is your path.”

Then came the 90s. And with it, an explosion of exploration—Underworld, DJ Shadow, Aphex Twin, Moby, Boards of Canada. I was hooked. I’ve always been drawn to melodic transitions and emotional journeys in sound. At first it was downtempo, hip hop, the layered storytelling through beats… and later, I got fascinated with dance music and how it moves energy in the body. I became obsessed with what sound does to us—how certain frequencies shift our emotions, how we move to rhythm almost instinctively. Music started feeling like a healing language to me. I would see colours and shapes while listening. To this day, I say: I am music. A ball of frequencies. And the artists I connect with deeply are sending out that same kind of frequency in their own unique way.

Nadia Struiwigh (Photo: Katja Ruge)

Have there been people whose contribution to your musical identity was especially important?

YES. One hundred percent. It’s impossible to evolve without being influenced, challenged, or lifted by others. DJ Estroe will always have a very special place in my story. She believed in me from the very beginning and gave me space to find my voice. She showed me both the raw and the beautiful parts of this industry. We’re best friends now, but her presence in those early years was really transformative.

My parents didn’t fully understand why I was giving everything to music—I didn’t have a typical social life. I had friends, sure, but I was always choosing the studio over going out. That part of me has never changed. Then there was Bernd, my very first booker, who believed in me from day one and continues to support me. Marcus, my agent at Little Big, played a huge role in my journey too—he was the one who pushed me hard to start performing my own music live more (not that I was not playing live before). That was the biggest leap forward I’ve ever made as an artist.

Now, I’m in a new phase with an amazing team around me. Greg, who also manages Clark and Nathan Fake, is now my manager. Theresa, my assistant, and Tenielle, who does my marketing and is the co-founder of a new platform PAX AURORA, have both held me through some very vulnerable moments. Their care and support have been so grounding. I’m also stepping into a new relationship with a fresh agency that feels completely aligned very soon. This journey has been wild, soul-stretching, and full of gratitude. I probably forgot some names, but if they’re reading this—they know who they are. Big love.

Nadia Struiwigh (Photo: Katja Ruge)

Are you able to share the process of evolving your identity with us?

Haha, where do I even start? It’s been a long, winding road—and honestly, I’m still walking it. What I’ve learned is that evolving doesn’t mean becoming someone new—it’s about returning to who you always were underneath everything. The more I change, the more I realize I’m still that dreamy, slightly odd, super sensitive kid I always was.

My friends sometimes call me a “Furby” because I live in my own world. I process things deeply. I can turn any struggle into a transformation story—I don’t really know another way to exist. I’ve always imagined myself as a sort of fairy creature, and for a long time, I felt like I had to hide that part. Society pressures us to fit into neat boxes, but that never worked for me. I’ve learned to stop resisting who I really am. I believe in softness, intuition, energy, community. For me, music is the language that holds all of that. It’s how I understand the world and how I stay connected to myself.

What do you hope to find in music—your own and others?

Honestly, I’m not searching for anything specific when I make or listen to music—it just is. Either it resonates, or it doesn’t. And that resonance is always shifting depending on where you are in your life. I move through a lot of different styles depending on my mood and what I need in the moment.

But if there’s one thing that always pulls me in, it’s soul. If something is made without heart, I can sense it immediately. I get turned off by music that feels like it’s just following a formula. But when something feels raw, honest, alive—when it taps into that otherworldly frequency—that’s when I get goosebumps. That’s when I feel like music is doing its real work. Music, to me, is a portal. It can hold space for healing, reflection, transformation. It’s pure magic.

Nadia Struiwigh (Photo: Katja Ruge)

What do you prefer, the studio or playing live? And why?

Oof. I always cheat on this one because to me, they’re not separate—they’re part of the same ritual. I bring the studio with me on stage, and I bring the stage back into the studio. I try to create a sense of “home” wherever I am. When I play live, I bring gear that I love, and I treat it the same way I would in my own space—just flowing, exploring, playing.

There are moments on stage where I’m so in it that I forget anyone is watching. It’s like I step out of the material world completely. And then I look up and remember—oh, right, I’m here, with all these people. That shared energy, that collective moment of resonance—it’s something I treasure deeply.

What is your ideal space to listen to music?

Literally anywhere. I listen to music constantly—it’s my backdrop for everything. There isn’t a single day where I don’t have something playing. I’ll be on a train, looking out the window, and suddenly I’ve built a whole movie in my head. Or I’ll be lying on my couch, completely wrapped in a track, feeling all the layers.
Travel is a big one for me. Airports, buses, planes… they open up this liminal space where time feels different. I think I’ve written whole emotional universes just from listening to music in those places.

What do you think sets your “voice” apart from others?

Hmm. I don’t know if I’m “set apart,” but I do feel like I bring the full spectrum into my sound. I love weaving rhythms, pads, synth lines… and that moment where it all collides—that’s what gives me life. I get goosebumps. I sometimes find it hard to let go of elements because I’m so in love with the whole story of a track.

My music is layered and narrative. Sometimes it edges toward the poppy, but it always stays rooted in the underground. There’s often a UK-ish influence. I rarely use vocals because they feel too defining to me. Instead, I use synths as my voice. The melodies and textures carry the emotion. That’s how I speak.

What empowers you or helps you overcome challenges?

I think the biggest thing I’ve learned is that I am often my biggest block. Not the world, not others—just me. My thoughts, my inner critic, my overdrive. If I’m pushing too hard or disconnected from myself, nothing flows. That pressure kills the magic. So when that happens, I slow down. I shift into something else.

I’m also a designer, and I love cracking small systems or diving into code. It grounds me. The inner critic still pops up sometimes—the “Are you sure?” voice—but I’ve learned to talk back to it. I remind myself, “You’ve made it through before. You always find a way.” Then I let go again. Trust is the medicine.

Nadia Struiwigh (Photo: Katja Ruge)

Most beautiful experience focused on your music?

There have been so many. MUTEK Canada really left a deep mark on me—it felt like full alignment, like I was exactly where I was meant to be. Paradiso was also unforgettable. There are those rare nights when everything just clicks—the venue, the sound, the people, the energy. It’s transcendent.

I’ve cried during shows—tears of pure gratitude. I also have so much love for the people behind the scenes: the sound techs, the stage crew, the hospitality team. They’re the backbone of every magical night, and I love connecting with them too.

Honestly though, this chapter of my life feels like one long beautiful moment. After 16 years of pouring into this path, things are aligning. I feel deeply proud of what I’m sending out. And still—I think the best is yet to come 💫

A guilty pleasure or something surprising about you?

Haha. Fries and completely useless TV shows bring me a kind of joy that’s honestly hard to explain. Just lying on the couch, being totally unproductive… it makes me feel proud in a weird way, because I normally don’t allow myself that space.

Also, I meditate a lot, and I’ve been reading tarot for years. I use it to tune into energies—mine, or the collective. I see signs constantly—angel numbers, songs that pop up, flickering lights. Since I was a kid, tech around me has acted up in strange ways. Lights flicker, screens freeze—it’s like the electricity is trying to talk to me. And honestly? I think it is. It’s the same current I channel into my music.

A fantasy venue or dream event to play?

I don’t have one specific festival or venue in mind—I trust that what’s meant for me will come. But I see the feeling. I see a huge stage, packed with people, my full studio setup surrounding me like a spaceship. I see myself talking to the crowd, laughing, dancing, being totally me.
I already try to bring that essence to my shows now, but I know it’s going to expand. Bigger stages, deeper connections, more light. I still get butterflies before every show, but I’ve learned that the nerves are just energy moving. That’s how I know something real is about to happen.

Do you see a connection between your femininity and your work?

This is something I’ve always felt but rarely talked about. I’ve never really identified fully with either femininity or masculinity—I feel like I’m both, and neither. I’m just me. I can be incredibly soft, intuitive, emotionally open… and at the same time, I’m bold, direct, grounded.
That duality lives in my music. The tenderness shows up in the melodies, the space between the beats. And the more intense, driving energy shows up in my heavier productions. My Blueprint release “X1 Shift” really shows that contrast. Both sides belong. Both are me. And I think more people are starting to realise that we don’t need to choose—we can be it all.