Julia Holter Pays Homage to Life Itself
The Los Angeles pop singer-songwriter details the influences and the grief-filled writing and recording sessions surrounding her new album, Something in the Room She Moves.
Photo by Camille Blake
Hélène Cixous is a 20th-century French writer and philosopher best known for her 1975 essay “The Laugh of the Medusa,” in which she coined the term “écriture féminine.” Within the text, Cixous urges women toward liberation via writing. “Écriture féminine places experience before language, and privileges the anti-linear, cyclical writing so often frowned upon by patriarchal society,” states literary critic Elaine Showalter. Cixous’s work heralded the importance of communication as a means to discuss struggle, identity and connection. In her 1996 essay “Writing Blind,” Cixous mediates the relationship between her writing, creativity and the night. She details how the emblematic darkness of night allows her a distinct and visceral clarity that enables her to boundlessly create. “To go off writing, I must escape from the broad daylight which takes me by the eyes, which takes my eyes and fills them with broad raw visions. I do not want to see what is shown. I want to see what is secret. What is hidden amongst the visible. I want to see the skin of the light,” she writes.
On her highly anticipated new album Something in the Room She Moves, Julia Holter takes inspiration from Cixous’s “Writing Blind” to craft songs steeped in a tangible, thrilling urgency that accompanies the ritual of creation. “I was, at this time of my life, struggling with inspiration a lot. There’s this text by Hélène Cixous called ‘Writing Blind’ and there’s a lot in there about the night and how the night blinds us, like we can’t see but therefore the imagination can run wild and we create in the night when we’re free from seeing and that the daylight kind of prevents us from seeing […] I was really playing off that in my mind I think both with ‘Sun Girl’ and ‘Spinning’ where the harshness of the day can be very sobering and intense. But also, with ‘Sun Girl,’ it’s sort of enriching in certain ways,” Holter says. “She’s [Cixous’s] writing about this moment of creation and that sort of intensity and urgency of it. It’s very intense and I was trying to capture that.”
Something in the Room She Moves celebrates the physical and emotional experiences of life and the impact that creation has on the human spirit. Its swirling odyssey of sweeping sound and emotion leaves you breathless, and Julia Holter’s distinct blend of experimental pop reaches new expansive heights with open, ethereal arrangements of noise that swell and condense at will over a pressing and abstract sense of rhythm. A shimmering symphony of scattered synths, reeds and percussion uplifts the opening track “Sun Girl,” as Holter repeatedly sings, “My dreams as I dream in golden yellow.” A heartening warmth wafts through the track as we navigate through the many layers of instruments and samples.
“I wanted to have a playful feeling. I was obsessed with capturing this playfulness with a little anxiety,” Holter says of “Sun Girl.” “It’s almost like I had a painting in mind or something. I made the chorus first originally. So I had the chorus, but I knew I wanted the rest of the song to have this lightness and this playfulness but then an undercurrent of anxiety. I worked on it for a long time trying to capture it. I made a lot of different versions. It was very collaged together post-recording whereas most of the other songs were quite true to performance.”
“There’s a sample of this xylophone at this playground by my house, there’s a sample of me and my daughter hitting a table to make a drum beat [but] it was mostly me, there’s a recording of us hitting the piano, there’s a drum sample from Aviary—oh, my God, there’s so much,” she continues.
Within the layers of the opening track, we acquaint ourselves with a side of Julia Holter we have never seen before. There’s a central focus on bodies and physicality that hasn’t been examined in her previous work, as well as a lush, overgrown feeling of immediate love. Holter emphasized that she primarily leaned outward for her past projects and working on Something in the Room She Moves led her to a restorative space of seeking inspiration from a new inward perspective and the all-consuming emotion behind that space.