For Cristi Cons, that encounter is the essence of his art. Trained as a classical cellist, he learned to sculpt silence and resonance with strings; today, that same sensitivity unfolds into sound design. Sound is not a tool—it is a living material. Acoustic instruments are reshaped through synthesis, textures stretched until they become architecture, atmospheres breathing like living organisms. To the point that his passion for it leads him to create his own loop packs, encouraging people “to experiment as much as possible, since the possibilities are endless.”

His versatility in connecting with the audience is also vast: he knows exactly when minimal, a groovy house, or the enveloping textures of downtempo and trip-hop should emerge on stage, while unfolding denser atmospheres that converse with deep techno, always weaving in those unexpected elements that leave his mark on every performance. Both in his solo work and through his label Amphia or the projects SIT and Amorf, he has been a key figure in shaping the Romanian underground, bringing his vision to audiences worldwide. From chamber music concerts at the National Music Academy of Bucharest in his early days to some of today’s most prestigious new stages—Sunwaves, Circoloco, Caprices and fabric—his talent unfolds naturally. It is not only about attending to the details in the construction of his sonic landscapes and sharing that precision with others through his sound contributions, but also about inhabiting each space with the ability to make a dancefloor resonate for hours.

The key lies in the finesse. Within his creative environment, technology and intuition converge, transforming his devotion to sound design into a practice of discovery rather than control. Collaborations with Vlad Caia and Mischa Blanos reveal a shared pursuit: to create music that transcends genre, moving freely between chamber intimacy and festival intensity.

This Friday, at Artlab’s Circle of Sound, Cristi invites Buenos Aires to immerse itself in that philosophy: an evening where listening becomes a form of community and sound itself becomes art. In this conversation, he shares how curiosity led him from classical music to electronic, how technology turned into a creative engine, and how each collaboration opened new perspectives. His story is one of constant evolution, where sound ceases to be technique and transforms into emotion and presence.

You can find the tickets here.

In projects like Amorf, the piano and other acoustic elements were reshaped through synthesis, effects, and processing to coexist with electronic textures, resulting in a hybrid sonic architecture. How did you arrive at that universe of sound design?

The rewarding aspect of collaborations is the exchange of ideas and energy that comes about in every circumstance, studio jams, post-production, or live performances.

As Amorf brought together three people with different musical perspectives, the bridge between classical piano and electronic music came largely through my friend and pianist Mischa Blanos, who naturally combines those two worlds through his artistic vision. Vlad and I complemented his approach with our own perspectives, and most creative decisions were made together, usually during the post-production phase.

When we jammed and created new material, each of us would begin creating his own sounds and at some point everything would come together naturally.

Where does your fascination with audio technology and sonic experimentation come from, and what continues to drive your constant exploration?

After years of playing and being surrounded mostly by classical music, in the search of my own identity, I began exploring other genres until I landed on electronic music because it resonated most with my personality probably.

I believe it’s important for everyone to go through this process, as it’s an important part of self awareness and exploration.

Since I truly believe we’re constantly evolving, our curiosity naturally leads us toward new fields.

Audio technology was something I felt was missing from my early musical education, and today I find it fascinating from both an engineering and a creative perspective.

How important is collaborating with artists who share a similar vision, energy, and sensibility? Thinking of projects like SIT with Vlad Caia and Noesis Music Studio with Mischa Blanos, do those creative partnerships help push your own work forward?

Every collaboration teaches us something new about ourselves, our creative approach, and offers a perspective we might never have discovered on our own.

I’m grateful for every project I’ve been part of because each one has contributed something meaningful to my work and helped me grow, both creatively and personally.

When does a sound stop being just a technical element and begin to breathe as art?

When it unexpectedly creates an emotion, or when it combines with another sound in a way that evokes a feeling that wasn’t there before.

Rooted in classical music and cello training, with a deep affinity for improvisation and musical production, have you found yourself envisioning compositions for other artistic disciplines such as ballet, contemporary dance, or cinema?

I’m currently in a phase where I simply want to explore and learn without having expectations of where that would lead because expectations can often interfere with the work and creative process.

I’m trying to keep both my mind and heart open to every form of art, trusting that life will eventually guide me toward the places where I truly belong.

Your studio seems like a laboratory of ideas. If you had to choose three pieces of equipment that genuinely expands your creativity, which would they be and why?

The first that comes to mind is the Cirklon, which is the sequencer and, in many ways, the brain of my studio.

When working on a new piece, I sometimes begin with a specific idea, while other times I simply experiment without any destination in mind. Sequencing musical patterns is a wonderful way of discovering ideas that I probably wouldn’t have found by playing directly on a piano keyboard.

Another instrument I’ve recently been diving deeply into is the Sequential Pro 3. I’ve owned it for quite some time but had only scratched the surface of its capabilities. It combines two analog oscillators with a digital wavetable oscillator, and its extensive modulation possibilities open up an inspiring world of sound design.

The third would be the Yamaha Motif 08, which I discovered through Mischa Blanos. Even though I‘ve owned it for years—and still use it to practice my rather lousy piano skills—it has an incredibly rich palette of sounds that continue to find their way into most of my productions.

Among your current tours, you recently played at Sunwaves, a multi-day immersive festival where music and community move like a perpetual flow. Now you arrive at Artlab, an intimate acoustic gathering space where HiFi acoustics and closeness with the audience shape the encounter. What aspects of the sound and the environment attract you in each of these experiences, and how do they influence the way you select and share music?

Playing in very different environments, from Sunwaves to Artlab, always gives me a fresh perspective on how I connect with both the music and the people in front of me.

I often find myself noticing both the similarities and the differences. What remains constant is the sense of community and belonging that music creates. What changes is the way people perceive it.

On a large open-air festival stage, for example, where it’s cold outside, people experience tempo and energy differently than they do in an intimate indoor space with warm acoustics and a closer connection between artist and audience.

In the end, music and art in general, is about helping us perceive things in ways that might otherwise go unnoticed.

As the acronym of his duo SIT (Theory of Lateral Invisibility) suggests in a playful image—a slender figure seen in profile that almost fades away—his music plays with the imperceptible: sounds that appear and disappear, textures perceived in the margins. In that territory, sound ceases to be a technical element and begins to breathe as art: it becomes unexpected emotion, a presence vibrating in the invisible. This is the subtlety that sustains his work, a universe where what seemed absent reveals its force, and the intangible turns into shared experience.