Flat Scenario
We both chose to develop our work away from the usual epicentres, relying on a network of relationships that does not impose proximity. Instead, it allows projects, encounters and stimuli to gravitate here. Above all, it helps us search for a balance between family life and creative work which, although expressed in different forms, is for both of us undergoing a deep transformation, shaped by acceleration and unpredictability.
Luca is a musician and producer. Flat Scenario, his recording studio, carries the awareness and the value of this choice.
Photo: Lorenzo Morandi
Conversation: Lorenzo Morandi, Luca Grossi
LM:
Flat Scenario feels like a statement of intent. It speaks about a decision and stands by it, with the understanding that engaging with the world today does not necessarily mean being at the centre.
LG
Like you, I chose to stay in the provinces. Living here is not just about raising children in the countryside. It is a mental state, a way of gathering oneself and having space to focus and create, with less background noise than a metropolis, both in media terms and in the very concrete sense of sound.
I never chased what is considered the “cool” sound or song of the moment, but I always wanted to understand how something contemporary is built, to study its processes and methods. For me, an artist has to be omnivorous, curious and fluent in different languages.
Having a studio surrounded by nature is an enormous privilege. It allows me to listen to myself, to concentrate and to experience work even in solitude. Making music means growing, taking care of myself and communicating with who I really am. Writing and producing also help me move through emotional states, to feel better and to fill something inside.
LM
Your studio is an unexpected place, especially in a small village. It brings together technologies spanning different decades. Beyond their lasting quality, even older tools open up new expressive possibilities today, particularly through sampling and digital processing.
Thinking about sound in the same way we think about images, it is clear that today everything can be created in a fully synthetic way, with a level of speed, precision and control that was unthinkable until recently. We are in the middle of a shift that can be read either as a threat or as an opportunity to rethink and evolve a profession.
LG
Technology does not scare me at all. I use it to change forms, genres and perspectives, and to stay connected to the world. But it loses meaning if it is stripped of its human component.
There has to be a balance between the formal structure of a composition and improvisation. Improvisation introduces unexpected elements that enrich the work and make it emotionally readable.
Fear of technology is often linked to the fear of delegating. But delegating requires having a very clear idea of the goal, and that goal can only be known by the artist.
LM
This is why, in music as in image-making, there is often a desire to move away from perfection and pure technicalism. The risk is slipping into nostalgia for a past that never really existed, shifting attention from content to form, to a reassuring but potentially empty aesthetic.
I am not even sure it makes sense to speak about musical aesthetics in these terms. What feels more relevant is the space of uncertainty and constant questioning where much of contemporary expression takes shape. Dialogue across disciplines, with people facing similar doubts, is often the most effective way to open new perspectives that later flow into more personal work.
LG
The past feels reassuring because we mostly talk about success, and much less about failures, attempts and processes that lead to unexpected results. Those processes are often hard to describe because they rely on non-codified approaches.
Technology gives us answers faster. This allows us to ask more questions and to be more reactive. At the same time, it reminds us that, in art as in life, following rules is not enough to achieve something that truly represents us.
I work with many artists, musicians, songwriters and composers, and I am naturally inclined to listen to very different musical worlds. I like finding new paths. Ave Quasàr is my project, the place where I experiment freely with instrumental music, neoclassical forms, sound design, modular synthesis, and songs.
Singing is a necessity for me. It completes my colour palette. I like writing without worrying about genre, and I enjoy it when my music becomes functional to other arts or to language, as happens in lecture-performances, site-specific installations or soundtracks.
Being a creative means taking countless wrong steps before realising that you simply need to change direction.
LM
Performance plays a central role in your work. It brings back human presence and the physical dimension of sound. I find it essential that our work arrives somewhere tangible, at least in the dynamics it activates.
This need contrasts with the widespread idea that everything today is immediate and easy. With a prompt, images, videos or melodies can be generated instantly. It can seem unnecessary to engage with the past at all. But this impression may be deceptive.
LG
The past should be studied deeply. At the same time, constantly comparing yesterday’s art with today’s is not necessarily empowering, as it often shifts the discussion toward sociological rather than artistic issues.
That said, the history of music and art is invaluable and must be protected. I studied at DAMS, and it gave me a great deal. But after studying everything, you need the courage to close your eyes and create the future.
Art also emerges when an artist frees themselves from the past, without fear of repetition or quotation, but with the certainty of being themselves, of feeling emotion and generating it, and of telling their own story.
flatscenario.com