A Personal Soundtrack – Painting to Music

Music sets the tone in my studio. Before I begin a new painting, before the first mark lands on the canvas, I take a moment to consider what it should sound like. Not what it should look like, not yet. That comes later. First, it’s about atmosphere. Energy. Intention.

Because every painting carries a rhythm. And the right music helps me find it. This is the artist process.

Setting the Tone

Each new piece begins with a question that has nothing to do with paint: what does this feel like?

The answer often arrives through sound.

If the idea is bold, graphic, full of movement and colour, the studio leans into something with pulse. Something alive. Music with tempo, with heat. On those days, an artist like Bad Bunny might fill the room, pushing the work forward with momentum, keeping hesitation at bay.

Other times, the painting asks for something quieter. Something rooted in story and place. When I’m working on scenes inspired by the East Coast, the soundtrack shifts. There’s a natural gravitation toward artists like Alan Doyle or Great Big Sea, whose music carries the cadence of the Atlantic. There’s history in it. Salt air. A sense of community that seeps into the work.

Beyond Borders

Even though my paintings explore Canadian culture and landscape, the music in my studio doesn’t stay within borders.

It never has.

From The Beatles to The Tragically Hip, from Coldplay to Radiohead, the soundtrack is eclectic, layered, and constantly evolving. Each artist brings something different into the space. A shift in tone. A new way of thinking. A subtle nudge in direction.

Music doesn’t need to match the subject literally. It just needs to unlock the right state of mind.

Painting to Music – Painting with Atmosphere

When the work turns toward quieter, more contemplative scenes, the music follows.

Paintings of ocean horizons, mountain air, or stillness in nature call for something expansive. Something that breathes. On those days, I might reach for Hozier, whose sound carries a kind of depth and atmosphere that feels almost elemental.

Or I might go in an entirely different direction and bring in the cinematic intensity of Hans Zimmer. There’s a scale to that music that can transform a painting session into something immersive, almost like scoring a film in real time.

The canvas becomes a scene. The brush, a kind of instrument.

Rhythm and Contrast

What keeps the process alive is contrast. One day it’s the raw edge and experimentation of Beck. Another day, the ambient, meditative layers of Moby. Each shift changes the way the work unfolds.

Music can tighten a composition or loosen it. It can push me to take risks or encourage restraint. It can pull me deeper into detail or lift me into a broader, more gestural approach.

It is not just background. It is part of the process.

A Living Soundtrack

Over time, this evolving mix of music becomes something more than a collection of songs. It becomes a record. Certain tracks are tied to specific paintings. Certain albums to entire series. Hearing them again brings everything back in an instant. The energy, the decisions, the breakthroughs. The soundtrack becomes a parallel archive to the work itself.

Closing Note

In the studio, before the paint, before the image, there is always sound. It sets the tone. It shapes the rhythm. It creates a space where ideas can take form. And while the finished painting may stand in silence, the music never really leaves. It lingers, just beneath the surface, carrying the pulse of the work long after the final brushstroke.