About Me
Where I come from
I grew up with Argentine folklore scores spread across the kitchen table and my father conducting rehearsals in the next room.
Music wasn’t something we listened to from a distance. It lived in the house — in the structure of it, the breath of it, the way a piece moved between tension and release.
I didn’t plan to become a producer. It feels more like something I was circling my whole life, and at some point I just decided to stand in the middle of it instead of around it.
Now I work from a studio in the Spanish countryside, doing the same thing I watched my father do: listening to what a piece of music is trying to become and clearing the path so it can get there.
How I work
I don’t think of production as decoration. For me it’s the thing that shapes whether a song reveals who you truly are, or hides it.
I’m drawn to space. Silence. The way dynamics can carry as much emotion as any instrument. I’d rather build a world around a song than just fill it with layers — not because I believe in minimalism for its own sake, but because the emotional truth of a song lives in what you choose not to do as much as what you add.
I care more about truth than perfection. If a take feels honest, I’ll keep it over something technically flawless but empty.
What it’s like to work together
I’m very aware that the studio is a vulnerable place. The best performances only happen when the room feels safe enough to hold them. So I’m careful with feedback, protective of the creative environment, and committed to making sure the person behind the music feels free enough to go deeper.
What ties it all together is translation. My role is the bridge between what an artist can feel and what the finished record actually sounds like. I’m not there to impose a vision. I’m there to hear what the song is trying to become, and help it arrive.
Let’s talk about your music
If you have songs that are ready to become something more,
I’d love to hear them.