Poetic 5 — with the visual voice behind Lyrmotion
- Apr 7
- 3 min read
Updated: Apr 12
5 poetic questions about film, emotion and the moments
that unfold between image and sound
Some things are not written.
They are seen.
Felt in rhythm.
Carried through image and sound.
They unfold
in the space between frames —
in timing, in silence,
in the moment something begins to breathe.
—
This is not about words.
It is about what moves beneath them.
Poetic 5 becomes a different kind of conversation here —
one shaped through image, music and emotional instinct.
This time,
the visual voice behind Lyrmotion
turns inward.
A project or piece you created that stayed with you —
long after it was finished ?
It was a personal project based on "Endeavour Morse".
I spent a long time searching for the right track for the series.
At some point, I found one that didn’t just work —
it perfectly captured the character’s life,
with all its highs and lows.
The song brings the character to life in
a different way and invites you to reflect.
While editing, everything just felt right.
It felt like being pulled into his world —
you had his entire life in your mind
and began to see it differently.
Because it was such an emotional and
long process, it has stayed with me.
Especially because it’s one of my favorite series —
and every time I watch an episode,
I immediately think of the trailer.
I think that’s why this project
will stay with me for a long time.
A moment in your work that stayed —
somewhere between image, music and feeling ?
There are moments while editing where image
and music suddenly come together in a very natural way.
You can feel when nothing is forced
anymore and everything simply fits.
The cut no longer feels intentional —
it becomes intuitive.
Those are the moments that stay with me —
because you can feel that something works
without needing to explain it.
A scene or sequence you shaped
that you didn’t want to leave —
because it felt complete ?
In my trailer for "My Oxford Year",
there was a scene
where a single look between
the two characters says everything.
The film reflects exactly what is visible in that moment:
the scene feels vulnerable, hopeful, and full of love —
while also carrying a quiet sense of fear.
While editing, I quickly realized
that this scene was central.
It carries the emotional core of the film
and works without much build-up.
In combination with the music, it created an incredibly
beautiful, almost tangible atmosphere.
The scene feels vulnerable, hopeful, and full of love —
and that’s exactly what makes it so powerful.
Those are the moments I love the most.
When image and music come together in a way
that doesn’t need explanation — you simply feel it.
A moment in your creative process
when everything aligned —
timing, image, emotion and sound ?
I usually notice very early in the process
whether something works or not.
The most important thing for me is being
able to truly immerse myself in the character’s life.
It becomes clear quite quickly whether image
and music can carry that — or not.
When it works, everything feels right
from the beginning and develops naturally from there.
Those moments don’t happen at the end for me —
they usually happen right at the start of the process.
Something your work has shown you
that has stayed with you
beyond editing and into real life ?
My work has shown me how important
film characters are and how deeply
you can connect with them.
You immerse yourself in their world,
understand their decisions, and often take
more with you than you expected.
At the same time, I’ve learned how important
music is for a film —
and how much it shapes atmosphere and emotion.
I also see the work of actors differently now,
because they are the ones who truly
bring these characters to life.
Most importantly, I’ve realized how powerful
films can be —
especially in difficult times, they can give people
a sense of support and move them deeply.
And I’ve learned how important feelings and empathy are —
not just in film, but in real life as well.
Some things don’t need words.
They stay —
in the rhythm of a moment,
in the way an image lingers,
in the feeling
that continues
long after the frame has passed.
—
If you felt something,
it was already there.