Aleksandra, we are so excited to talk about your recent work on “Meie Erika”. The film tells such a powerful, dual story – there’s the intense, rhythmic world of Olympic track cycling, but also the very private, traumatic history of Erika Salumäe herself. As a composer who loves to explore the ‘imperfect and unpredictable,’ how did you balance those two worlds?

The score is a dialogue between vulnerability and control. For me, connecting to Erika’s story was very instinctive. I wrote the first demo just from reading the script in August 2024. I felt such a strong connection to her that I didn’t even think about whether I would get the job – I just wrote the music and sent it to the production saying: “I don’t know if we’ll work together, but this is how I feel.” That piece later became the main theme of the film, Meie Erika.

At the core of the score is an imperfect, fragile, almost lonely synth sound that feels like it’s crying out – as if Erika is saying “see me”. It represents her vulnerability and her need to be seen and loved, and it runs through the entire score. Sometimes it’s fully exposed, and sometimes it gets buried under the noise of the races, the orchestra, and the persona she builds around herself – but it’s always present.

The musical journey moves from chaos into control. In the earlier racing scenes, the music is unstable and impulsive – almost reckless. She’s pushing without fully understanding her limits yet (tracks like Kolkhoz, Race and Tsaryova Race). By the time we reach the Olympic races, the music becomes more focused, more contained, more powerful. The chaos doesn’t disappear – she learns how to hold it.

Sometimes life places us in roles where we feel unseen or reduced to something surface-level. I was going through something like that at the time, and I recognised that same drive in Erika – the need to prove your worth through achievement. And in a way, I think both of us discover that this isn’t what truly fulfills you. Balancing those two sides – her vulnerability and her strength, her emotional world and her almost machine-like discipline – felt very natural to me. The score became a space where both could exist at the same time.

“Meie Erika” is a joint Baltic production involving Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. Given that Erika Salumäe is such a massive icon for the entire region during a pivotal time in history, did you feel a responsibility to weave those different Baltic identities into the score?

There was definitely an element of grounding the score in the Baltic identity. One of the most direct ways I approached that was through the kannel – I actually bought one in Tallinn when I first met the director, German Golub, and it became part of the early sound world of the film. You can hear it quite clearly in “Preparing for Latvia” – it has this intimacy that felt very connected to Erika’s roots. Recording with Sinfonietta Rīga in Riga also anchored the score in the region in a different way.

But beyond that, I realised quite quickly that what was pulling me in wasn’t so much the geography – it was the human aspect of her story. Erika’s journey sits at a really important historical moment – the collapse of the Soviet Union – and she naturally became a symbol of Baltic identity and independence. But for me, the more powerful layer was what it meant to exist as a woman inside that kind of system. She was operating in an environment that demanded extreme discipline, resilience, and physical endurance – qualities that were often defined in very masculine terms. And she didn’t just survive in that space, she matched it and pushed through it. There’s something incredibly powerful in that.

So rather than trying to represent different Baltic identities in a literal way, I found myself drawn to that internal world – the tension between strength and vulnerability, control and emotional need. That felt universal to me. In the end, I wasn’t trying to separate Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania musically – I was looking for something that could hold a shared emotional experience across all of it.

The score for “Meie Erika” is so beautifully diverse. I was struck by the contrast between the title track, which is elegant, pensive, and almost whimsical, and a cue like ‘Kolkhoz’ with its energetic drum kit, quirky brass, and sparse strings. Was it a challenge to maintain a unified ‘voice’ for the film while juggling such vastly different palettes, or did you find a specific through-line or theme that tied them all together?

Thank you. For me, it wasn’t so much a challenge as it was about having a very clear through-line from the beginning. The score is built around a few core themes – especially the Erika theme – and a very specific sonic identity that runs through everything. The main anchor is that fragile, slightly unstable synth sound that represents her. It appears throughout the score in different forms – sometimes very exposed, sometimes buried under the orchestra, and sometimes, like in the “Victory” cue, fully taken over by it. But even as the palette shifts, that core idea is always present.

There are tracks like “Kolkhoz”, which really stand on their own and reflect the pure chaos of racing drunk tractor drivers – and I wanted that contrast to exist. But even there, the energy and rhythmic language still belong to the same world. A big part of that came from using the bicycle itself as a foundation. I recorded sounds from my own bike and built many of the rhythms for the racing scenes from that. It gave those moments a very physical, almost tactile identity, which helps tie everything together across different styles.

And more broadly, the score follows a kind of narrative arc – moving from something more raw and organic into something more controlled and expansive, as Erika evolves. So even though the surface changes quite a lot, it’s all connected through the same thematic and sonic DNA.

How would you describe your creative workflow with German Golub? In a project with so much historical and emotional weight, did the musical direction feel like a shared vision from the start, or was there a healthy ‘push and pull’ as you both discovered the film’s sonic identity together?

I’d say it was both a shared vision and a bit of push and pull. There was a clear understanding early on of the emotional core of the film, but we discovered the sonic identity together through the process. I would bring ideas in, and German would respond very openly not in a prescriptive way, but by offering a different perspective or pushing for something deeper. That back-and-forth kept evolving the score into a more interesting place. By the time I got to scoring the Olympic scenes, we were so aligned that all there of those cues made it into the film from the first draft.

German is an incredibly intuitive and emotionally driven director, which made the collaboration feel very natural from the start. We didn’t work with references – which I really valued. The only “guideline” he would sometimes give me was a metronome, just to align with the pacing of the edit. Everything else was about feeling. He has a very precise way of articulating emotional states and character motivations, which made it easy to translate those ideas into music. It never felt restrictive – more like we were constantly expanding each other’s ideas. I’d love to work with him again.

In a previous interview, you mentioned that artists like Ariana Grande, Shakira, and Christina Aguilera were your early musical loves. As a singer-songwriter yourself, how does that pop sensibility and focus on vocal prowess influence your approach to a feature film score?

I’ve always been drawn to artists with very distinct vocal identities – people like Christina Aguilera, Ariana Grande, Shakira where the voice isn’t just carrying the melody, but has a very specific colour and character. That’s definitely shaped how I approach music. I tend to think of instruments almost like voices. I’m very sensitive to timbre, to how a sound “speaks”, and to expressive details like slides, glissandi, or instability in the tone.

Some of those influences come through quite naturally. The kind of vocal slides or emotional inflections you hear in singers like Christina Aguilera translate into things like sliding trombones or rising string glissandi in my scores. It’s not something I consciously plan – it’s just part of how I hear and shape sound. I’m also very drawn to writing melodies that feel immediate and memorable – something you could almost sing. And then my classical training expands that into a more layered, orchestral language. So it becomes a kind of hybrid – a balance between instinctive, vocal-driven expression and a more structured, cinematic form.

You’ve noted before that awards are a powerful way to ‘get your music out there’ and gain visibility. If awards provide that external reach, how would you describe the internal role that organizations like the AWFC play for you? How has being a part of this professional network shaped your journey or helped you navigate the industry?

I do think awards are a powerful way of getting your music out into the world – even if you don’t win, your work is still being heard by people in the industry, and that kind of visibility can open unexpected doors. The AWFC plays a much more internal role. It was actually one of the first composer communities I became part of straight out of NFTS, and I remember immediately feeling how open and supportive it was – even from the first coffee meeting. It’s a space where people genuinely share experiences, opportunities, and contacts, and you don’t feel like you’re navigating everything on your own. It also supports you in reaching the right people and opening the right doors. It celebrates its members’ successes – it really does feel like you have an army behind your back.

What I value most is that it doesn’t come from a place of competition or scarcity, but from wanting each other to grow. That’s quite rare in this industry, which can otherwise feel very isolating. As composers, we spend so much time working alone, so having a space where you can step out of that – connect, exchange ideas, and hear different perspectives – is incredibly important. Sometimes you learn things you didn’t even know you needed to ask. As a mother myself, I also really value connecting with other composer mums and sharing experiences of navigating this career. For me, AWFC isn’t just about professional development – it’s about having a community that makes this career feel less solitary, and a lot more human.

With “Meie Erika” making its debut and your recent solo album Book of Dreams out in the world, what’s next for you? Is there something we can look forward to in the near future?

Right now I’m working on an independent feature documentary with a young Italian director, Niccolò Salvato. It’s a very intimate project, with a heavily synth and vocal-based score, exploring the emotional world of a former inmate trying to rebuild his life and find acceptance again. Further down the line, I’m also attached to a feature documentary with director Samir Modi, supported by Al Jazeera, which explores stories of immigration to Britain and looks at the human side of that experience.

I feel like I’m naturally moving towards projects that are very character-driven and emotionally complex, where the music can really explore inner worlds rather than just external action. So I’m excited to keep building in that direction – continuing to develop my voice across both film and my own artist work.

Interview by Michael Van Bodegom Smith

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