London, 2026​

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During this interview, I change seats, place myself in front of another artist and ask him the questions I wish people asked me. Today, I meet with English composer and pianist Erin Margaret, aka Lumirel, who has just released her latest project, Drifting. 

 

Erin, tell us about yourself.

 

I am a composer and pianist working under the name Lumirel, which loosely translates to light revealed — or the light we return to. I came to this chapter of my musical life after a bit of a pause. I graduated college with a Bachelor’s degree in Piano Performance and then spent the next twelve years raising a young family and living inside the sometimes quiet and sometimes chaotic rhythms of everyday life. Music was always present, but it existed differently — through teaching private lessons, singing countless lullabies, and playing in small, intimate moments. Now, in my thirties, I have returned to composition with more openness and fewer expectations. I am less interested in virtuosity and more interested in listening — to space, to silence, and to what a piece wants to become rather than what I might try to force onto it.

 

Tell us about Drifting, your first full-length solo project.

 

Drifting is the first time I allowed myself to create a body of work without an agenda. I did not sit down thinking, I am making an album. Instead, I followed the music — the ideas that kept returning and how they naturally wanted to evolve. The record grew slowly, almost accidentally, until I realised the pieces were speaking to one another. Drifting ultimately became an exercise in letting go of control — trusting instinct, patience, and the restraint of the work itself.

 

Tell us more about the themes and subjects looked at with this release.

 

The idea for Drifting came from a daydream I had as a child — a place I would go whenever I needed an escape. I imagined floating on my back down a river watching vibrant grasses and flowers pass along the banks, with an endless blue sky above me. It was my safe place, and it became the inspiration for the title track and the album as a whole. The rest of the record is inspired by different movements of water. A central theme throughout is the coexistence of darkness and light — the immense beauty and quiet terror found in the natural world. Water can be deeply calming and profoundly dangerous at the same time. You can be completely drawn to the ocean’s beauty while still fearing its depths.

 

What are some of your influences as a musician and composer?

 

I am drawn to more recent composers such as Ludovico Einaudi, Philip Glass, and Yann Tiersen. To me, what connects them is not a specific sound, but a shared philosophy — repetition as meditation and simplicity as emotional honesty. I am also deeply influenced by classical composers like Chopin, Debussy, and Liszt, and many others. They ground me in my training and anchor my musical language. I like to think my work lives somewhere between those two worlds — classical and neo-classical — borrowing from both traditions. Outside of music, I’m inspired by visual art, water, natural light, and literature. Anything that invites the listener or viewer into a journey or a process that resonates deeply. 

 

How do you approach composing music, and what is your relationship with the instrument — in that case the piano — like?

 

The piano is less an instrument to me and more a place to go. I do not approach it with a plan — I approach it with curiosity. Most pieces begin as very small gestures: an idea, a thought, a single phrase repeated until it reveals something new. My relationship with my piano is especially meaningful. About a year and a half ago, I was given a 102-year-old Estey grand piano, and that instrument truly sparked my journey into composing. Moving from a small upright spinet to a six-foot grand piano transformed my musical journey in a way I did not expect. Its history, warmth, and imperfections bring a depth and richness that deeply influence the way I write. It’s been an essential part of this creative chapter.

 

What is the importance of storytelling in your music?

 

Storytelling is crucial to my work, but not in a traditional narrative sense. My goal is not to tell a story to the listener — I want my music to become the vessel that can carry them somewhere they need to go. When I perform live, I often share the images or visual worlds that accompany each piece for me, but I am just as drawn to hearing where the music takes others, because it is sometimes somewhere entirely different.

 

Tell us more about the themes and subjects looked at with this release.

 

The visuals for Drifting are not linear; they are emotional landscapes. I think of the music as a doorway — something you step through rather than follow. In that way, the listening experience becomes almost meditative, like a form of sound healing. Each listener brings their own memories, history, and experiences, and the music simply holds the space for that journey. That is where the piece truly completes itself.

 

So after Drifting, what’s next?

 

I am staying close to the world Drifting created, continuing to explore the other elements through composition. I am already working on my next album and right now more than half of it is close to finished! It is earth-focused, with a bit of a deeper and more complex sound. I will be recording soon, with the hope of releasing it this summer. At the same time, I have a couple of singles planned for release in March and April. I will be releasing a remastered version of my very first song “Coming Home”, along with another piece that is not connected with the elemental albums titled Melancholy. I have many ideas and long-term goals, which means there are several projects quietly taking shape for the future.

 

Thanks very much Erin. One last for the road — one book, one album, one film —, tell us about your latest cultural findings?

 

Book: I have been finding my way back into reading over the last year, and along the way I have discovered so many authors I adore. Wild Reverence by Rebecca Ross was a recent read — the writing is stunning. Album: I recently came across an artist who was new to me, Ruti. The vocals feel otherworldly, and the lyrics landed deeply. I spent an entire day listening on repeat, allowing myself to sit with the emotional healing the music offered. Specifically the songs Lungs, and See Through. Film: I have been revisiting Miyazaki’s films like Castle in the Sky and Spirited Away. I loved many of his movies as a child, and it has been so special to return to them now, alongside discovering the ones I had missed. I had never seen Howl’s Moving Castle before, and watching it with the others was such a gift. The music and his approach to animation are simply breathtaking.

 

Bouncing on Erin’s words, the dual works of Hayao Miyazaki and Joe Hisaishi, the filmmaker and composer behind some of the most iconic Japanese animated movies of the century is one not to be ignored, starting indeed with Howl’s Moving Castle! Read my review of Drifting.​