Rishiraj Kulkarni

This piece originated on the handpan when I first began playing. It unfolds as a continuous, steady flow, layered with melody that explores every note of the instrument, revealing the permutations and combinations that naturally exist within it. Ideas, thoughts, and sounds kept streaming through me—non-stop—driven by the sheer brightness I felt as I played, looping again and again. It was fascinating to realise how surrendering to listening can teach far more than any conscious effort ever could. After attending my concert in Paris, France, my mother was traveling back when she saw deer running freely across open fields. That visual instantly reconnected her to the music she had just heard, and from that moment, the piece found its name: Gambol.

This piece was born from my desire to delve into a time signature relatively unfamiliar to me—something I’ve always compared to tasting new cuisines. We grow comfortable with what we know, sometimes even fearful of trying something different. Yet learning to digest new rhythmic flavors can be as rewarding as embracing a culture beyond our own. My journey began with my musical mother tongue: Indian classical music. Over the years, exploring traditions from around the world has taught me to hear my instrument with fresh ears, allowing it to tell its story from new perspectives. The title Stendhal Syndrome struck me instantly while browsing through suggestions sent from people across the globe. Its poetic meaning moved me deeply, perfectly mirroring the emotional intensity of this exploration. My heartfelt thanks to my friend from Belgium for offering the title that helped bring this piece into sharper focus.

Yeh maine kya kiya - ये मैंने क्या किया happened as spontaneous expression of deep pain trapped within helplessness. It’s a rare moment, where art meets life and there is nothing more to do than be the vehicle for the beyond outpouring through us. I watch in awe at my soul laid bare. With love, tenderness and care.

Ayasa means “iron” in the Sanskrit language, and it is also the name of a handpan manufacturer from the Netherlands—a country that has become my second home. Exploring and gently pushing boundaries—of the instrument and of myself—the handpan shared this piece with me. Through twisting, turning, changing orientation, and looking at it from a different perspective, new dimensions of sensitivity revealed between us. Played vertically in my lap, the instrument exposed its two distinct sides: one masculine, one feminine—a visual, sonic reflection of Shiva, where opposites do not compete but coexist. With no aim or intention, I surrendered to the instrument, allowing the music to unfold from within and lead me here. The instrument was born after having conversations with the Ayasa team for over more than a year, when they agreed to customise this scale for me which you hear in this piece. This was the first story the instrument shared with me. Dedicated to Shiva and the Ayasa team—iron in form, and unwavering in spirit.

The album opens with four gentle, shifting progressions—each a different state of mind. Like listeners arriving from their own worlds, the motif circles and gradually tightens, drawing us together until many become one. It mirrors the beginning of a concert: someone tired, someone excited, someone carrying the day. Yet as the first tones fill the room, every story softens into a shared breath—a single presence. Then it begins, with silence. The melody enters fragile yet grounding, its variations unfolding patiently, holding close to the heart of the idea—simple, beautiful, unafraid of space. A reminder that the deepest expression often lives in simplicity, where each note speaks, and the silence that follows carries its own quiet courage.

Experiencing, learning and receiving your support for “Home”, has inspired me to share my second album with you. I am very deeply grateful to each and every one you here, for all your support in my journey of music. I hope to see you soon. With love. Album cover photography & design: Radheya Hanwate

Experiencing, learning and receiving your support for “Home”, has inspired me to share my second album with you. I am very deeply grateful to each and every one you here, for all your support in my journey of music. I hope to see you soon. With love. Album cover photography & design: Radheya Hanwate

Experiencing, learning and receiving your support for “Home”, has inspired me to share my second album with you. I am very deeply grateful to each and every one you here, for all your support in my journey of music. I hope to see you soon. With love. Album cover photography & design: Radheya Hanwate

Experiencing, learning and receiving your support for “Home”, has inspired me to share my second album with you. I am very deeply grateful to each and every one you here, for all your support in my journey of music. I hope to see you soon. With love. Album cover photography & design: Radheya Hanwate

Birth- The beginning of everything. Composed on the night of my birthday after listening to an entire month of a completely new genre and artists I had never heard of before. This gave me a completely new direction to music, a transformed perspective of looking at various time signatures and to feel it. Coincidentally, the time signature of Birth also coincides with the time-cycle of birth.

Parlance has been my effort to translate the language of music from one musical tradition to another. Tabla, an Indian classical percussion instrument, has a language of its own. You can literally speak, read, write and listen to its language. Being primarily a single pitched percussion instrument, the character used to differentiate the variations in its compositions is mainly done using the dynamics. In order to take a step further, I translated the language of Tabla on RAV Vast, opening it to a completely new spectrum of sound. The composition became an amalgamation of rhythm and melody on RAV Vast, against to being just rhythmic on the Tabla. credits

Crepuscular is the sonic representation of an everyday natural phenomenon that happens around us. Sunset to Moonrise - is something most of us acknowledge only a few times in our lifetime. When we do, we recall the entire experience of it, but failing to remember every single gradual change that has occurred during its time. If you wondered why the track is of 11 minutes, it is because the number 11 symbolises the spiritual awakening in us, and also to respect the sense of time required to indulge into this experience. This is what Crepuscular is a reflection of. For most of us, remembering the entire experience of it, and for some, noticing every single change that is taking place.

Walk in the Woods - a representation of your journey though it. Think of the introduction as the time you are about to enter. You observe the expanse of it from a distance. The moment the groove comes in the music, it represents the commencement of your journey. The thematic melody is the portrayal of the momentum you pick up in your journey in the woods. The variations in the melody, are the representation of variations you make in your walk, while still maintaining your momentum. The significant change in the melody and the groove, is an interpretation of that one thing you stumble upon your journey which marks it as the highlight. The place where your momentum breaks, and where you maybe fail to realise that it is the pinnacle of your journey. Coming back to the main thematic idea, shows your journey back towards from where you started, with the same momentum. And the outro - the sustained silence, a sonic representation of your experience. credits

Sound of Helix - The first track I ever composed by changing the direction of the RAV Vast and using some techniques to bring the harmonics of the instrument to life. The title comes from the overall visual illustration of the movement of my hands across the instrument while playing this piece. Helical. The progression in the speed is a representation of the increase in spin of the helical shape, and then finally dropping down to the tempo it started with.