Kevin Braheny Fortune - Encountering the Mystery, in the key of gentleness

Elusive, sparing both in his live performances and in his recorded output, American musician Kevin Braheny Fortune, born in 1952, shines through despite his reticence as one of the three great renewers of ambient music to come out of Los Angeles, alongside his friends and colleagues Steve Roach and Michael Stearns, a trio of meditative composers who, starting in the late 80s, redefined the genre according to an aesthetic drawn from wilderness landscapes. The untamed nature and desert landscapes he sought out and explored during his formative years would inspire a style that is anything but wild; much of his studio work, from the essential 1980 debut "Lullaby For The Hearts Of Space" through to his output in the new millennium, is marked by an ecstatic, melodious approach, a dreamlike surrender in which his own mastery of the sax peeks through, tightly bound to opiate-like analog electronics. Among the many protagonists of North American ambient music, he is one of those with the greatest musical competence - both theoretical and technological - evident both in sprawling tours de force of space music and in the solid songwriting of the healing music found on 2009's "Channeled Chakra Balancing". In the practice of gentleness, Braheny has welcomed the Mystery, making himself a channel for voices inaudible to most, translated into an instrumental language of an inspiration so profound it comes to sound unfathomable.

Kevin, let's start with a detail: why did you add the word "Fortune" to your surname?

You should know that I'm a channel to the metaphysical world: the name "Fortune" was given to me during a trance experience. But I still kept Braheny at the center.

The exquisiteness of your soprano sax on the album "Lullaby For The Hearts Of Space" makes it necessary to ask which saxophonists you consider your points of reference.

I have a classical training and I played as much jazz as I could. My influences include, among many others, Wayne Shorter, Dewey Redman, Bernie Maupin and, of course, John Coltrane.

Your classical training is evident in your love of structure, unlike many other ambient composers.

My earliest influences were Prokofiev, Mussorgsky, Scriabin, Rachmaninoff and Rimsky-Korsakov. Then came Beethoven, Chopin, Dvořák and Grieg. As a wind player, I've always felt at home in the universe of melody. The one I love most of all is definitely Ravel: even today I'm still amazed by his orchestrations. Satie, Debussy and Fauré were also important figures for me: their impressionist approach shaped my ability to channel energy into music.

What do you remember about your apprenticeship with electronics guru Malcolm Cecil, co-founder of the seminal duo Tonto's Expanding Head Band?

Brilliant man and talented musician. Starting in 1975 I spent quite a bit of time with him, helping him build his TONTO (that is, The Original New Timbral Orchestra). I had just arrived in town, and since he was also a skilled producer, I got to sit in on recording sessions for names like the Isley Brothers. I can't tell you how amazing it was to watch him and the other engineers at work in the studio. That's when I started getting familiar with those enormous mixing consoles. We laughed so much, playing at raising and lowering our hands Tai Chi-style to ride the channel levels!

Another name of high caliber but little known to most is that of Serge Č̱erepnin.

A longtime friend and collaborator. He now lives in France, but we talk almost every week. I met him around the same time I was working with Malcolm. From there began a collaborative relationship building synthesizers. He created a wonderful set of analog synthesizer modules that I still use today. He was also an avant-garde composer and violist, descended from two famous Russian composers, Nicolai Č̱erepnin (his grandfather) and Alexander Č̱erepnin (his father), while his mother, Ming, was a renowned Chinese concert performer. His experimental sensibility was geared toward designing brilliant electronic instruments that allowed musicians to create complex sounds from very simple elements.

Unlike most ambient composers, your discography is quite sparse.

In '92 I recorded "Passion's Dance", an album that Hearts Of Space Records turned down. Around the same time I fell seriously ill. I could barely move. During the Los Angeles riots, I remember being up on the roof of my recording studio, trying to keep the burning embers from the surrounding buildings on fire from irreparably damaging it. That's when I realized that, as much as I had loved Los Angeles and appreciated everything it had let me experience, it wasn't the right place for me to heal. So I moved to the San Francisco area, in order to face the healing process with the right determination. But I was really too sick to do anything: I kept composing, but I couldn't record a thing.

Except for the two albums with Tim Clark...

That's right: "Rain" and "The Spell". But my energy was still very low, and it took 20 years to get past the worst symptoms. I always wanted to finish mixing "Passion's Dance", and I eventually managed to, releasing it on Bandcamp five years ago. I started putting out music again in 2009, with "Channeled Chakra Balancing", an experimental work of channeled music on the theme of the human body's energy points. And most recently I've started channeling personalized "musical readings"; with permission from the people who commissioned them, I've released five of them, filing them under the "Dreamwalker Meditation Music" category. Anyone who wants to know more can visit my website kevinbrahenyfortune.com.

What can you tell me about Clark?

A dear friend and a wonderful composer. I first heard his music on the ZBS Media radio production "The Fourth Tower of Inverness", featuring Jack Flanders. That was around '78. I loved his ability to create a sonic environment perfectly in sync with the narrative. In '95 I was about to play a concert in Scottsdale, Arizona, and Stephen Hill of Hearts Of Space suggested I call him up, since he lived in the area. So we played a first concert together and even wrote a couple of pieces. Already on that first occasion, we shared an incredible rapport: if I headed off somewhere melodically, he always seemed to know where I was going, and when he took a new direction, I could follow him with total ease. Almost all the pieces on "Rain" and "The Spell" were improvised and recorded in a single take. But I'm no slacker, mind you! Just consider that, for composer Paul Avgerinos alone, I took part in 12 of his albums.

You mentioned Hill: I imagine your album "Lullaby For The Hearts Of Space" is a tribute to his music radio program.

Yes. Stephen is a pioneer in spreading ambient/space music. He and Anna Turner hosted the radio program "Music From The Hearts Of Space", launched in Berkeley, California, in '73, which is late-night radio at its best. Like many of my peers at the time, thanks to them I was introduced to that huge audience of listeners craving new contemplative music, music that expanded consciousness. In 1980 Stephen and Anna organized a fundraising day for the program: I was scheduled to perform the day's closing music, billed as "a lullaby to usher in the end of the night". Using the Serge synth, I improvised the piece that I titled, fittingly, "Lullaby For The Hearts Of Space". The first recorded version came out on "Perelandra" in 1984; Stephen kept the second version in rotation for the following six years, until he told me: "If you're not going to release it yourself, we'd like to". And that was the beginning of the Hearts Of Space Records label.

You mentioned the Serge synth (or Serge Modular Music System), a truly peculiar instrument.

In '75 Serge (Č̱erepnin) had designed temperature-stable oscillators for Malcolm, called New Timbral Oscillators, or NTOs. That's when I built my own Serge synthesizer, the "Mighty Serge", and I used it on most of my later recordings. One of the best pieces I used it on is, in fact, "Lullaby For The Hearts Of Space". Last year I released two archival pieces made with the Serge, "Dragon Waits" and "Enchanter's Isle". The first is 100% Serge, and the second is 95% so. I just finished conjuring up a commissioned piece, where the explicit request was that it be played exclusively on that synth. I'll be uploading it to Bandcamp shortly.

So tell me about the Mighty Serge from a technical standpoint?

It's a "modular" instrument, in that it contains many modules that perform unique functions: oscillators that produce waveforms, filters that color those waveforms, and other types of voltage controllers. Many keyboard instruments, for example, have pre-programmed sounds, but with the Serge you build sonic events from these modules according to what the user wants it to sound like, from scratch, you might say. I've continued working with Serge synthesizers to this day, designing them, building them, and restoring old models.

You also had a hand in the creation of the EWI.

The EWI (or Electronic Wind Instrument) was invented by synthesizer designer Nyle Steiner. In 1983 we shared a bill somewhere, I don't remember where; he, being also a trumpet player, played his EVI (Electronic Valve Instrument). Later, I contacted him asking whether he'd happened to create a version for reed instrument players too. He replied that he had indeed thought about it, and I offered to help him build it. I built four prototypes for him, and he, in exchange, built one for me. I still use his: it has an expressiveness I love. For me, as a synthesist and wind instrument player, it was a perfect match.

Michael Stearns told me that he, you and Steve Roach all loved Edward Abbey's book "Desert Solitaire", which led to the 1989 collective album of the same name.

I'm a lover of the outdoors; Abbey's descriptions of deserts and his experiences in those places were, for me, an enriching and inspiring read.

Have you visited Arches National Monument in southeastern Utah, the place described in "Desert Solitaire"?

No, but I've always had a fondness for desert areas; even before the book, I'd fallen in love with the deserts of the Mojave and Anza-Borrego, in California. Above all, my favorite is Joshua Tree. Back then, in the Seventies and early Eighties, you'd hardly run into anyone. I spent long stretches of time there hiking and meditating inside caves. After the release of U2's album "The Joshua Tree", for better or worse things changed, turning those places into a destination for music tourism.

What makes Steve one of the most significant ambient composers of recent decades?

From my point of view, his approach to music is purely instinctive, which leads him to create lush sonic worlds, environments that draw you in on a vibrational level. More generally, I admire the fact that, as an artist, he's always willing to put himself on the line.

Klaus Schulze admitted he had an amateur's approach to electronics. How do you explain the fact that he still managed to contribute to the evolution of the genre?

Klaus, despite a limited understanding of electronics, still created worlds and moments of sonic vibration that were part of his vision. I loved the fact that he married electronics with acoustic instruments. In any case, I don't think it matters much what means we have available: what counts is the composer's soul. When a composer manages to use instruments he's not very familiar with, and still creates music worthy of extended listening, that's where the difference is made. And Klaus, the architect of a strong, personal vision, was undoubtedly a source of inspiration for many of us.

If I think of an album like "Perelandra", it's hard not to infer a fascination with the world of science fiction on your part. What are the literary titles you're most attached to?

As you may have guessed, "Perelandra" is also the title of the second book in a trilogy written by C.S. Lewis, a contemporary of J.R.R. Tolkien, and yes, I've loved science fiction and fantasy books since I was a child. The first science fiction book I read was "I, Robot" by Isaac Asimov. Besides him, Lewis and Tolkien, I'd add Robert Heinlein, H.G. Wells, Arthur C. Clarke, Ursula LeGuin, Philip K. Dick, Frank Herbert, but I could go on for quite a while.

What do you love about science fiction and fantasy?

They're genres that take me into worlds where, evidently, I like to live, for a while. Different books have resonated with me at different moments in my life. The heart of it all is exploring consciousness through that "what if?". They're books that are, if you like, a form of escapism too, but ones that manage to inspire me because, as I read them, my mind creates a soundtrack for every story.

Unlike most of your peers, many of your albums from the new millennium still show the compositional freshness of your earliest recordings.

Some of my musical choices are probably connected to my ADHD, that is, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. There are positive sides to this too, since it pushes me to explore many different kinds of music and creative approaches. Of course it also has its downsides, making it hard for me to carry projects through on my own, unless I'm collaborating with other people: in that case, I always stay on track.

“Liminal Space” (2019) is a striking example of this new creative youthfulness.

I wanted to represent, precisely, “liminal” space, meaning an in-between state, something in transition between two places but not fully belonging to either. It's the realm of dreams, and it embodies the spark of creativity. The tracks were created mostly through “one-take” improvisations over a long period of time. I selected the ones that most fully embodied this feeling of waiting and suspension. They're certainly more minimal pieces compared to the rest of my output, completely spontaneous reflections.

What is the real potential of so-called “healing music”?

For me it all started during the time I spent at Continuum Movement, the school founded by Emilie Conrad focused on exploring the body's natural capacity for cellular healing through movement, a series of activities based on micro-movements at the cellular level. My role at the time was to create music and sounds that would help facilitate these explorations, and I also took part to some extent in the movement work and teaching. You should know that I have the ability to perceive the energy fields around people: this was of great help to me in understanding how the sounds I was producing affected people's bodies both while they were moving and while they remained still. I observed not only the energy fields of individuals, but also the energy field produced by a group of several people together. That's how I developed a kind of sonic language based on the energetic feedback loop between a group and myself. Over time, I learned what would be able to influence the various chakras and how to move energy through certain sounds. I had just built the Mighty Serge and used it as my main instrument for the following four years. The second piece on “Lullaby For The Hearts Of Space”, namely “After I Said Goodnight”, was recorded live during a Continuum class.

How would you explain to younger generations the relevance of the tantric tradition, which you know so well?

Tantric teachings are more present today than they've ever been: from ancient texts to modern writings, both Eastern and Western. However, although there's a huge body of literature on the subject, Tantra isn't learned from books alone but, above all, through experience. And it's far more than a way of making love, as most people believe. It's a way of being. It's a way of seeking out and embodying the Divine in everything. It's perceiving the Light in every person you meet. It's using the energy of life force to facilitate an opening to the Divine. Young people today face challenges we couldn't even imagine 50 years ago: we're bombarded with an endless amount of content that is anything but uplifting. Immersed in a world crammed with negativity, it's up to all of us to avoid reacting with senseless actions. The real challenge is keeping joy and the capacity for appreciation alive for whatever good we experience, moment by moment.

There's a substantial difference between happiness and joy. What is it that makes joy grow within you?

Yes, there's a difference between happiness and joy, since the opposite of happiness is sadness, while joy has a breadth that encompasses all emotions. You can be sad about the loss of a loved one while at the same time feeling the joy of the relationship you had with them. I have a somewhat particular perspective on this, since I've had two near-death experiences. Both times I felt washed over by feelings of joy and wellbeing. So, when I'm feeling a bit low, I do my best to draw on the memory of those feelings, so as to resonate at a higher vibration.

One of your most ambitious albums is “Secret Rooms” (1990), which shows a narrative approach rarely found elsewhere in your discography.

It's one of my favorite albums. I approached it in a more classical way, hearing it in my head, writing out the scores and then playing and recording them, with a cool head.

I have a feeling there's a story behind this record.

The idea came from something I witnessed one day, walking down a busy street in my city. There was a blind man who, instead of using a white cane to get around, made particular sounds with his tongue. I watched him for a while as he moved easily among people and the various obstacles in his path, and eventually I went up to him to ask if he was actually doing what I suspected. And indeed, yes, he was walking by means of an echolocation he produced through those specific sounds made by clicking his tongue. He explained that he'd been doing it since he was a child, and from there a great conversation followed.

What did you take away from that encounter?

It made me think about how sounds define the space we're in and, consequently, how each space influences our thoughts. For example, even with your eyes closed, you have different thoughts when you're in a stuffy little room compared to when you're in a cathedral.

How did this realization influence your music?

It gave a new meaning to my space music, which is no longer necessarily concerned with outer space. To me, spatial awareness implies Consciousness. At the time I had started working in the field of channelings, so the “rooms” referenced in the title also represented the dimensions in which I would encounter certain spirits. One of the pieces that best captures those situations is, in fact, “Visited By Spirits”.

“Secret Rooms” is a lot more than that, from the standpoint of technological experimentation.

I designed and built a mobile 3D binaural recording system, connected to small capsules containing electret microphones to be inserted into the ear canals; with this equipment, I walked through train stations, Dodger Stadium, and various other places. The opening track, “Passage 1”, was my first step toward the entrance of Crystal Studios in Los Angeles. In every track, what you're hearing is a translation of me walking toward and into a different room. “Things Seen And Unseen”, if I'm not mistaken, portrays a situation where I was sitting in the studio while two female friends moved and danced around me.

Music aside, what is the great love of your life?

There are many “great loves” in my life: I love visiting my sister Mary, I love good food, riding my motorcycle, and I love the place where I live, in the mountains of Northern California. Quoting the song “My Favourite Things”, I'd say to you that “these are a few of my favorite things”.

In the Nineties, electronic music underwent a genuine Renaissance, both in the States and in Europe. Are there any names that stood out to you

Right now, none come to mind. Clearly, my memory isn't up to much. More recently, though, I've been struck by the young Jacob Collier.

The new generations show little interest in listening to music with medium-to-high sound quality: is the reason that they use their cell phones the way we used to use hi-fis?

In consumer audio there has always been a wide range of sonic possibilities. I, for instance, started out with a small 45 rpm player. In 1958, my brother Dan was in the Navy and sent me a transistor radio from Japan. At the time, it was an absolute novelty. I remember hiding it under my pillow and listening to it that way, at night. The range of devices, from poor playback equipment to the most sophisticated audio systems, has always existed. Today music is listened to via mp3, which, in terms of quality, is on the level of a cassette tape, and further downgraded by Bluetooth and streaming modes. All of these are cheap ways of listening, favored by the masses. Of course, listening to full-spectrum sound through speakers that let you feel it in your own body is a whole different experience. But truly good audio systems cost money. I was fortunate enough to work as a sound engineer for major recording studios, where I worked with extraordinary full-spectrum sound, so I know what I'm talking about. And I also know what it feels like to stand behind the stage curtain while the Chicago Symphony Orchestra is playing: it's in those moments that you understand there's nothing comparable to reality.

What is the most extraordinary aspect of being an artist?

Music is above all a transformative matter, and I love becoming aware of the transformations happening within me. This kind of awareness allows us to sense our connection with the Higher Self.

(May 1, 2025)

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google