Across eight untitled pieces, fold/interval develops a musical language in which guitar dyads, granular electronics, filtered resonances and microscopic digital artefacts coexist within carefully articulated sonic environments. By directing attention towards the behaviour of sound itself, its texture, spectral balance and the constantly shifting relationships between one resonance and the next, Giuseppe Ielasi and Fabio Perletta engage in an open exchange that is equally balanced and coherent.
The title of the project itself offers an illuminating point of entry. In audio synthesis, wavefolding is a process in which a signal exceeding a certain threshold is folded back onto itself, generating new harmonics and increasingly complex timbral structures instead of simply clipping or distorting. The second half of the title is equally revealing. Throughout the album, Giuseppe Ielasi’s guitar is reduced to two-note dyads—musical intervals—whose quiet interjections provide the elementary material from which Fabio Perletta’s electronic processes unfold. Fold describes a continuous process of sonic transformation; interval refers both to the guitar’s harmonic vocabulary and to the spaces separating successive sonic events. The music continually inhabits both meanings.
The dialogue between Ielasi and Perletta never feels predetermined. Repeated figures evolve through minute changes in density, frequency and perspective, while silence functions as an active compositional force, shaping every gesture with remarkable precision. Listening gradually shifts away from isolated sonic events towards intervals in both senses of the word: the relationships between pitches and the spaces separating sounds. Tiny overtone fluctuations, delicate feedback and almost imperceptible transients continually redefine the surrounding acoustic field.
Giulia Bruno‘s photographic contribution is integral to the project. Her images of landscapes, architectural structures and technological infrastructures mirror the music’s fascination with hidden systems, suspended attention and processes unfolding beneath the threshold of immediate perception. Sound and image share the same temporal logic, encouraging prolonged observation rather than instant recognition.
Ultimately, fold/interval is a record about relationships: between acoustic and electronic sound, presence and absence, transformation and stasis. Every gesture appears with an acute sense of proportion. Like the wavefolding process evoked in its title, it reveals how complexity can emerge from the continuous reshaping of the simplest materials.
To find out more we have spoken directly with Ielasi, Perletta and Bruno.
Untitled (1–8) feels poised between presence and absence: Giuseppe’s sparse guitar gestures seem to emerge from and dissolve back into Fabio’s electronic textures, while Giulia’s photographs introduce a parallel visual rhythm. How did the three of you develop a shared language across sound and image, and at what point did the project become more than a musical collaboration and evolve into fold/interval itself?
Giulia Bruno: fold/interval was born from the desire to create together within a free and anti-hierarchical relational context, where sounds and images can also follow a shared path, without subordination.
Our relationship began with mutual respect and with a friendship that developed over time. Recognizing ourselves in what each of us does — and perhaps also in who each of us is through our work — created a solid foundation from which the desire emerged to explore something unexpected together, grounded in a shared trust in looking and listening.
The project therefore arises from the desire to bring together thoughts, sensibilities, and intuitions that find their form through shared sounds, images, and silences.
Fabio Perletta: fold/interval was never just a musical project; rather, it started as a trio. Before that, Giuseppe and I had been discussing the possibility of collaborating in a broader sense. Giulia and Giuseppe already knew each other well, having collaborated for a long time, so everything naturally found its way into fold/interval, which was conceived as a space for exchange involving different practices and sensibilities, where sound and image could develop together. We aim to find a shared space where listening and looking can influence each other, and where unexpected connections could emerge. The music and the photographs are not separate layers, but different manifestations of a shared process and vision.
Giuseppe Ielasi: I have been working with Giulia, on different projects, for more than 15 years. This was mainly on film or installation works. More recently we started discussing about possible live performances, and our first one as a duo happened in June 2025 at the Triennale in Milano. We loved it, but at the same time felt the need to work on something less structured, more open to improvisation and surprises.
I also know Fabio since a long time: we shared a few concerts and he published some of my music on 901editions, but most of all we exchanged thoughts, music and spent a lot of time together in the last years. We were ready for a collaboration and started playing and recording together. It was very natural, then, to merge those projects, introducing Giulia to Fabio. My impression is that the shared language was already there, it was just a matter of making things happen.
The release includes photographs ranging from natural and architectural environments to technological infrastructures, including an image of the cooling systems of the Barcelona Supercomputing Center. Given the increasing debate around the environmental cost of AI and large-scale computation, were these infrastructures approached primarily as visual forms, or do they also function as reflections on the invisible systems that increasingly shape contemporary life and knowledge production?
GB: My work never approaches images solely as visual forms. Rather, the image is a pretext for activation: a way of bringing to light contemporary questions concerning collective issues, research processes, and systems of relation.
In this sense, I am interested in deconstructing the aesthetics of the image, removing it from spectacle so that it can become an activator. An activator of processes of change and reflection on how we observe, recognize, and respond to different forms of violence and contradiction.
I believe we are often suspended within a constant tension: between hypnosis and impotence, between beauty and fear, between systems of seduction and power and critical awareness. This is why I am interested in working with the landscape — whether natural, technological, architectural, infrastructural, human, or relational — as a space to be read, questioned, and traversed.
The infrastructures, and what is reactivated through photography, are therefore not merely formal presences, but signals of broader, often invisible systems that condition the way we live, know, and imagine the future, within an obsessive system of continuous archiving. To look also means asking ourselves what choices we can make in order to build a collectivity capable of coexisting, resisting, and generating new forms of relation.
FP: I believe this connection is at the core of fold/interval. The project does not come from a desire to blindly produce new images and sounds, but rather to create a space where attention can be reactivated and where different, heightened forms of perception coexist. We are not interested in spectacularization, our focus is on cultivating attention. The way we work together is based on a process of listening and waiting, allowing each element to emerge without forcing relationships or creating predetermined correspondences. We were drawn to what happens in the space between things: between the visible and the hidden, between what is heard and what is left in silence. In this sense, fold/interval reflects a resistance to the acceleration and saturation that define contemporary production and consumption. This first work seeks to open up a different temporal dimension—one where the viewer and listener are invited to sit with uncertainty, observe the details, and forge their own connections.
The music is remarkably restrained. Guitar notes and chords seem to drift through digital circuitry, leaving large amounts of space between events. Was reduction a conscious compositional strategy from the outset, or did the pieces gradually arrive at this sparse form through a process of subtraction and editing?
FP: From my perspective, it is a combination of both. The way Giuseppe and I approach sound within this project stems from a shared interest in creating an environment where every element holds its own weight and presence, allowing unexpected encounters to unfold. Reduction wasn’t a conscious aesthetic choice; it emerged from a desire to let the space breathe and become an active component of the composition. Silence, resonance, and the intervals between events are not mere voids, but structural pillars that give sounds the room to reveal their intrinsic qualities. At the same time, this sparseness was already baked into the sounds we each brought to the table.
Giuseppe’s guitar—with its precision and abstract quality—and my stylized electronic textures, which are often pushed toward the extreme areas of the spectrum, come from very different yet complimentary worlds. Throughout the process, we constantly sought an organic balance between these two worlds, letting the clarity and subtle details of the guitar interact with the ambiguity and roughness of the electronics.
GI: It’s strange, the music doesn’t feel that restrained to me. There’s constant activity in it, lots of repetitions (but no loops) and the pacing and placing are very deliberate, but somehow the flow feels very natural (the idea of ‘restrain’ somehow suggest that it was ‘forced’, and that is not the case). There was little subtraction, and almost no editing. We suggested basic materials and layers and realized that many of those could co-exist and interacts very naturally. It was a very intuitive, non-formalised process.
Giulia, many of your recent texts engage with questions of technological mediation, the overproduction of images, and the difficulty of maintaining spaces of reflection within contemporary systems of visibility. Do you see a connection between those concerns and the aesthetic choices behind Untitled (1–8), which often feels like it is resisting speed, saturation and information overload in favour of slowness, ambiguity and attention?
GB: We are connected by a shared way of thinking: the desire not to follow the logics of production, seduction, and spectacularization, but rather the rhythm of our own thought and listening. It is a natural gaze, made of layers but not oversaturation, of words expressed with care, and of a constant search for coherence.
There are no predetermined rules or rigid orders of thought, but rather a natural transformation that emerges from the attempt to remove the work from what is immediately displayed. We are interested in what remains suspended, what requires time, what does not immediately offer itself only as an image or as information.
The reflection on the macrosystems in which we move as individuals runs through our thinking and our gaze, and also shapes the way we relate to others. Untitled (1–8) emerges from this attention: from the desire to create a space in which sound, image, and word can slow down perception and open up the possibility of a shared rereading of the processes that involve us.
FP: I am drawn to the word Giulia mentioned: rhythm. Our biological rhythm—the intrinsic time we need to process our surroundings—differs for everyone, but it is undeniably a means of survival in this violent, vulgar world. To honor it requires welcoming the complex, the unexpected, the unheard, and the unseen. We aim to stay close to this idea, not in a literal, romantic, or strictly political sense, but as a practice that resists the pressure to produce immediate meaning or visibility.
Giulia’s reflection on overproduction and the saturation of images deeply informs how we approach both sound and vision: not as materials to be quickly consumed, but as processes demanding time. The project seeks to create a space where perception can remain open and non-finalised, where things are not immediately resolved into information or representation. Instead, it sustains an alternative internal tempo—one that allows for hesitation, repetition, and return.
fold/interval is described not only as an audiovisual project but also as a publishing platform. Beyond this first release, how do you envision the project developing? Are future editions likely to continue exploring the relationship between image, sound and material publication, or do you see fold/interval evolving into a broader framework for collaborations, research projects and new commissions?
GB: Starting from the coming together of our conversations, we did not want to place any limit on the project’s transformation. We believe in a path made of coherence, but also of responses to research processes that can change, expand, and take on new forms over time, just as we ourselves change over time.
For us, collaboration means first and foremost engaging in dialogue and confrontation. We have not placed any limit on this exchange, except for the desire to do it with people who share with us a vision of the world in which aesthetics is never placed above relationships, research, and the search for meaning in life.
In this sense, fold/interval may continue to explore the relationship between image, sound, and material publication, but it may also open itself to other forms: collaborations, research, commissions, dialogues, and processes that have not yet been anticipated. What interests us is that it remains a living space, capable of transforming without losing coherence.
FP: For me, fold/interval is less of a fixed container and more of an open ecology, inherently built to evolve. The idea of the publishing platform naturally stems from a desire to give a physical, tangible form to time and thought, which is why the material aspect will always remain a core interest. Looking ahead, I imagine fold/interval evolving as a flexible framework that could manifest as a physical edition, a sound installation, a research residency, or simply a space for shared dialogue. Future editions might not always look or sound the same, it will simply follow the needs of the encounters and questions that emerge along the way.
GI: What interests me is to collaborate on a project that’s very open, hard to define and might even be confusing at times. We released an edition with a cd and a set of photos, a short film on our website and we’re co-curating some events and sound installations at “settantaventidue” in Milano. But we also exist as a label / publishing platform (more editions, with or without music, might appear soon and those could include other collaborators) and we’re planning some concerts, residencies and installations for the next months. So, yes, it’s definitely evolving and I’m very curious to see what will happen.
(Gianmarco Del Re)