The music of Marco Farina, aka Canva6, floats between familiar harmonic melodies and weird, unpredictable timbral takeovers. Signed to Lorenzo Senni’s label Presto!?, his sonic work spans high-speed boundaries, chaotic nostalgia, and euphoria. His track “Still Cry at High Speed” was synchronised for Caroline Poggi and Jonathan Vinel’s film Eat The Night, presented at the “Quinzaine des Cinéastes” at the Cannes Film Festival 2024. He has performed at numerous events across Europe, including Club2Club, MOFO Festival Paris, Macro Museo Roma, Triennale Milano, and many others.
What is your musical background? How did you start making music?
Everything started when I was a teenager visiting nightclubs in Rome for the first time. That’s where I had the chance to discover a mix of very different kinds of music.
Thanks to the incredible taste of the resident DJs at that time, I had the chance to hear music I’d never encountered before, music I’ve always considered “unusual” for the dance environment.
I came from the dancefloor, but imagine a 16-year-old kid arriving early at the club and hearing Biosphere’s “Substrata” and other records for the first time, played at full volume on a proper sound system, in a dark, smoky room.
It was a great opportunity to embrace the darkness in the sweetest way. This might seem commonplace today, but back then my mind was intoxicated by those ecstatic states, which I connected to lo-fi content like Twin Peaks and David Lynch in general, or horror PS1 games like early Resident Evil and Silent Hill.
This all also led to some weird recurring dreams that would appear at random.
In 2017, I decided to move to Milan to study Sound Engineering. Back in 2014-2015, the Internet wasn’t as powerful as it is nowadays, so the creation of music always felt like a “big mystery” to me. All those cables and wires seemed scary and strange, and I couldn’t really figure out much on my own, but I was deeply drawn to the machines, nevertheless.
Years later, I started studying music theory and created “Canva6”. Today, I still don’t feel fully satisfied, because I still have a lot to learn, but at least I’ve learned how to do something!
You’re part of Lorenzo Senni’s Presto!? Imprint. What’s your relationship to the label and the Milan scene as a whole?
I thought about Presto!? for my first record, Ten Minutes To Midnight, because I found that “sweet darkness” feeling again during one of their events at their former HQ.
It was during the release party for the record Triad God-Triad. I saw the RSVP for the event on Facebook and decided to go. It was pre-COVID and I remember that Milan was quite empty that day; it was cold, foggy, and the city lights were dim. The HQ was situated in a suburban neighbourhood. When I arrived, I saw the red lights glowing from the venue. Inside, they had built an installation resembling an altar, with candles, a Triad God banner, a red laser, and tracks from the album “Triad” playing on heavy rotation: “Dill”, “Gway Lo”, “Babe Don’t Go”.
As usual, I was the first to arrive. That’s where I met Ruben and we ended up drinking some Chinese Distillate together and chatting a bit. I didn’t know him at all before then.
Years later (post-Covid), I returned to the HQ. After several attempts, Lorenzo finally gave me the chance to play the demo of “Ten Minutes To Midnight” for him in his studio. He said, “I like it, but you need to fix some things”, and he helped a lot.
Since then, I’ve also started doing some work for the label alongside Ruben, Giovanni, Lorenzo & Courtney.
Presto!? feels like a second home. It’s taught me so much and I’ll be forever grateful for the opportunity.
As for the Milanese scene, I honestly think that a lot of great artists are making beautiful music right now. Besides us, there are other cutting-edge labels like Hundebiss, Haunter Records, Artetetra, Gud Serben, and more.
I think we’re all developing our own unique signatures, which is strong. And last but not least, there’s no shortage of things/festivals/events happening during the year, which means there’s always inspiration and opportunities to learn.
Can you talk about how you make your music? What elements are important?
I’m always looking to give myself a shock; the emotions have to take control of me. That’s the only rule.
Starting from various core elements like melodies, complex synthesis, and sometimes even what I call “cheap orchestration”, what I try to do with Canva6 is to maximise the timbres to enrich the storytelling of the song. When I start composing, I always try to plan which instruments I’ll use. I work extensively with hardware, as I believe that many pieces of gear can still offer new and unheard sonic horizons. What’s interesting about these machines is how limited their controls can be. Especially with old racks from the 90s, you never really have total control, but if you can tame them, they can add real value (sometimes their very limitations are what make them magical—think of the huge impact of the Roland TB 303).
For my best-known tracks, “Still Cry At High Speed” and “Raging Euphoria”, I focused the energy on creating a “sweet/sad”, euphoric panorama through melodies and timbres. Other tracks, like “Queni Waiting Room” and “Procedural Vertigo” are built around thematic repetition. For those, I wanted the themes to feel deeply evocative through their timbre, so in “Queni Waiting Room”, I experimented combining orchestral instruments with granular processing, and in “Procedural Vertigo” I used vintage string machines (combined with a phaser, as many artists did in the 80s) alongside digital wavetable synthesis.
I found meaning in my composition process by trying some unusual matches—from classical instruments to futuristic machine-based music applications. Of course, there are a lot of musicians who are doing this, so I’m not claiming to have discovered anything new. I’m just grateful to have found my workflow, and that I can recognise myself in what I’m doing.
When you make music, do you approach it in a more improvised way, or do you also try to channel some of your concrete inspirations or thoughts?
It happens quite randomly; most of the time it starts when I’m practising piano, trying to read the sheet music. For example, while I’m playing a phrase or a chord, I connect with the tonality the song was composed in, and from there I start to improvise using different harmonic functions. If, at some point, I find “the shock”, that’s when I start a new track.
It can also happen when I feel a strong need to express something, and then I ask myself what I want to imprint on the music. In this case, the urge to start writing new music comes from events related to trauma, love, weirdness, redemption, freedom, beauty, etc..
A big curiosity about the future also keeps me going. I’m always eager to hear my next album, and then the next one, and the next, over and over again.
I can’t make music as a routine; it has to represent something I can’t express through ordinary communication. It must have a reason to exist.
It’s well known that music is “finished”—in terms of theory, we’ve explored all the possibilities for composing something “new” (within most recognised temperaments).
But even if that’s true and it’s “finished”, we still have a lot to create, a lot to express, a lot to say… It would be a pity to miss the opportunity to do that.
Your sound is rooted in synthesis and spawned in time of digital aesthetics. How do you approach digital culture and our digital era as such?
Answering this question from a philosophical perspective, stepping away from the “musical field” for just a moment, without sounding too dystopian, I have to say that the “fear of the digital era” feels real to me. The infinite amount of possibilities it offers is so scary; many people have lost their sense of purpose in life because of it.
Existential questions like “Who am I?” or “Where am I going?”— Quis Sum? Quo Vadis?—are so difficult to answer nowadays. Maybe we’re too immersed in the digital world.
I keep this in mind constantly whenever I’m making music.
I consider myself both a musician and a funambulist [tightrope walker].
At one end of the balancing pole stands music in its purest form, the original driving impulse, free of rules, and unconditional love and gratitude for its existence.
At the other end is digital aestheticisation—a world shaped by algorithms, “prize-drawing” streaming platforms, and the codification of content, where music becomes just a grain of code in a multiverse of codes.
Overturning that system is difficult. As a funambulist, my mission is to carry the pole to the other side—with these two elements at either end—walking a thin tightrope above the abyss. If I get the balance wrong, I fall.
In the music field, I express this concept through diversity in my albums; there are euphoric tracks like “Expanded Wonders”, and more earth-shaking pieces like “The Anxious Heart Ballet” or “Infinite Silk”. Carrying the pole to the other side is the meaning of life; carrying the pole to the other side is a big job!
What are you currently working on?
I’m currently working on my next album. I started to compose it in 2023, but it’s taking more time than I expected, as over the past two years I’ve had to deal with some significant emotional difficulties.
In alchemical terms, I feel I’ve passed through a tough/dark phase, something akin to the nigredo, so the translation of this experience into music has often been deeply exhausting.
Usually, I’m very explosive in the studio; I love losing myself in experimentation and listening. And I still can do that if I compose without rigid expectations.
For my third album, I want to capture personal experiences I’ve had to live through.
In 2023, my emotions were so vivid and intense—I think I accomplished a lot in that year. Even now, I still feel a lot emotionally, and the album is almost complete. But every time I return to work on It, I have to emotionally revisit those experiences, and that takes a toll on my private life.
The album will not only be a “lead to gold” or “dark work” operation. There will also be traditional Canva6 elements, euphoric shifts, and high-speed carefreeness.
I’ve already tried out some new tracks in my live shows, and they worked so well—I can’t wait to release them.
I’m also working on the scores for two short films. I’m practicing a lot and discovering new music applications, and I’m excited to integrate them into my future music.
Interview Lucia Udvardyova
Photo Florence Merlo