With credits across documentaries, TV, feature films and video games, composer Nainita Desai is one of the most versatile and eclectic artists working today.

Her latest project, Tales of Kenzera: ZAU, releases on all major gaming platforms next week. Working with an orchestra at Abbey Road Studios and incorporating traditional African instrumentation and Voquality — the same choir from Marvel's Black Panther choir — Nainita's score evokes the Bantu mythology running throughout the game.

Another of Nainita's projects, Netflix's true crime documentary What Jennifer Did, released last week. We sat down with the composer to discuss the difference in scoring for video games and narrative fiction, her love for documentaries and how the industry has changed over the course of her diverse career.

What’s the most important thing you look for in a project? 

I don't like to repeat myself stylistically and I need to be stimulated by stories, genres or subjects where I feel I can create something unique and then throw my own spin on it. For me, a big part of being a composer entails having an understanding of what it means to be human. You have to be a psychologist and have a curiosity about the human condition and be empathetic.

A project may also align with my personal values. For example, I’ve always had a deep-rooted interest in the natural world, that connection humans have with the world around us. I want to understand the psyche of what makes people tick and do what they do, and also work on projects that break form and open our minds to new ways of storytelling. I like breaking convention.

How do you like to challenge yourself creatively?

I need to grow from project to project so I like to take on something that represents a ‘first’ for me whether it’s my first ‘horror’ or ‘historical drama’ or first ‘romance-love story feature’. As a result I like to throw myself in at the deep end, putting myself in uncomfortable musical situations where I've never tackled something before or play around with the process.

When composing, I challenge myself by creating limitations. When I first started out, I just had a few hardware synth modules and sound libraries, so that forced me to be more creative. If all I have is, say, a kazoo and a didgeridoo, I'd have to write the best score I could with those few sounds. Whereas now I can do ‘anything’ with tons of creative tools at my fingertips. So I create a set of parameters and rules that I try to stick to, like I’ll set up a restricted sound palette or use only acoustic sounds for a project or only synths.

I love all forms of storytelling and love to be whisked away to other worlds like my recent project Nautilus, is an upcoming epic fantasy adventure show for Disney+ / AMC based on Jules Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. It has a big orchestral, thematic score which was a dream project but also a huge logistical challenge to score. And then I’ll mix it up with a gritty crime drama that’s gritty synth and music design like The Tower or true-crime Netflix feature documentary What Jennifer Did.

What sort of collaboration do you look for in a director?

It’s great to have a director with a clear vision that encourages innovation and experimentation. I also think trust is crucial. Sometimes, when you're writing ‘by committee’, the composer's opinion is the last to be taken into account — or not even taken into consideration! I want to feel that I'm part of the team; that my contribution is going to inspire the editor and the director when they're working as well. 

To bring out the best in someone, you've got to nurture and value them, and sometimes, you can be treated like a music making factory — just a gun for hire. I’m fortunate in that I’ve worked with lovely directors, but being open, nurturing, flexible, and positive is so conducive to a successful collaboration. I am drawn to projects that throw me in at the deep end, out of my comfort zone, tackling subjects and styles I’ve not handled before. It can be terrifying, but also extremely rewarding when it comes together, like the time I wrote City of Dreams – A Musical, a documentary musical for the BBC.

I had to write 6 pop songs including lyrics in 5 weeks fully produced, basically constructing the narrative of the whole film, write it in 5 different languages (of which I spoke none) and then fly to India, record the contributors who couldn’t sing, dance or even read English, and then help with the filming ! Up until then I’d never really written songs, let alone speak the languages or train the kids of the slum where we filmed.

How would you describe your creative process?

Organised chaos! I have a degree in maths, and that's formed the backbone to how I approach things; everything’s a musical equation and puzzle. I like to be ordered because it allows the creative chaos to happen in my mind when I'm actually composing. I also love the research part of the process. I have to find a way in to connect emotionally with the story, so I like to be brought on as early as possible so that I can come up with a conceptual approach for a score. It can involve listening to and being inspired by the director, hearing their motivation and passion. That then inspires me to write sketches and ideas away from the images. 

I try to create a unique sound universe for every project which will keep evolving across the project. I may begin by creating a custom library of recordings with soloists, developing a sonic palette that will help kick off writing sketches and themes. I do embrace the collaborative aspect of sharing ideas, having conversations and sharing playlists. I spent 18 months working on the film The Reason I Jump, where I dived into the world of non-verbal autism, only using found sound, vocals, and acoustic instruments. We wanted to translate the experience of being autistic into music to create a multi-sensory experience in Dolby Atmos, and I wrote most of the music away from picture being drip fed verbal briefs by the director.

If I’m writing to picture, I’ll watch the film for the first time and respond in a visceral way. I want to capture my emotional response as quick as possible because on repeated viewing I lose that element of surprise, so I’ll write a quick sketch and then spend hours afterwards shaping and finessing the details.

What do the first stages of your work on a project look like?

It’s always a time of nervousness and an exciting world of possibilities - like being in Wonka’s chocolate factory! I like to be brought on early, when I can experiment, write lots of ideas and themes away from the pressures of the edit. I know that not all these ideas may end up in the project, but you get to try things out and invariably the right music will find its way to the right scenes. I’ve had musical instruments made for me or I’ll purchase an instrument on my travels that will kick start ideas and force me to mix up my writing process. 

I stockpile ideas and musicians for a rainy day and like to ‘make the invisible, visible’, finding musicians that play unusual instruments who don’t normally do film sessions, who can bring something unique to a score. For example, I scored the film Nocturnes (which just won the Craft award at Sundance) and brought in world music flautist Victoria Vitazkova and Bazantar inventor and musician, Mark Deutsche who I’ve wanted to work with for years. We held semi-improvised recording sessions and it unlocked the whole score which ended up being a very sparse, minimalist approach.

Once the edit starts, the process switches into a more pressured schedule working to feedback from execs, commissioners, producers as well as directors. I love going on that exploratory journey with filmmakers to find the right tone and sound.

How does the process differ when working on video games?

I think video games are such an exciting space to work in because you have to write strong, bold and catchy music with recall, which is really important. With film and TV, you're largely underscoring — and dialogue is king even with bold scores. So scoring for games is quite liberating in comparison. Writing in a modular way for games is the challenge; creating chunks and layers like lego blocks, but making the music sound effortless and still flow musically.

I’m scoring nuanced emotional environments and truly world building with exploration, combat, and boss fights. The schedules I’ve had are quite extended too. My current game Tales of Kenzera: ZAU took three years to gestate. I’ve found audio teams to be incredibly organised. They're descriptive about what they want and I get written briefs for each track. Filmmaking is more chaotic and you’re along for the ride with a lot of voices and opinions chiming in.

 Working with Sam Barlow on his interactive movie-games Immortality and Telling Lies was very different to anything I’ve ever embarked upon. Working purely from the script with no visuals at all was an inspiring challenge. We’re talking about scoring a 10 hour movie which wasn’t really feasible, so we had to come up with our own techniques and processes totally different to the usual way of scoring games. I wrote three themes for Immortality that I recorded with the orchestra and did a lot of manipulation post recording to derive the ‘Supernatural’ tracks. I had a year to work on it which meant we pored over every note in a forensic way. Sam is so pioneering the way in which we tell and engage with stories, and that’s a very exciting space to work in.

How has the industry changed since you started out?

It's always been a hugely competitive profession and I was often the only woman in all male teams when working in sound design or recording studios. Whilst I worked hard at being ‘one of the boys’, it was still hard to fit in socially and have my opinion taken seriously. I’d also be pigeon holed into composing certain genres based on my background or my diverse roots; I’ve fought hard for years to not be type-cast. 

I didn’t realise growing up that there were all sorts of unconscious biases based on gender, socio-economic, ethnic backgrounds. I had my dreams but was also so afraid to commit to my ultimate ambition until I took the plunge. We need more diverse storytelling and the only way we can achieve that is by having more diverse storytellers, be they on screen talent or off-screen talent to embrace a more comfortable, inclusive, eclectic environment.  

Technology has transformed things and is constantly evolving. If it wasn’t for computers and synths, I probably wouldn’t be a composer, so having a wide skill set of programming, engineering, mixing and producing, as well as composing is almost essential nowadays. Therefore I feel AI is something we have to embrace in a creative way like every technological revolution over the last 100 years.

Having teams and assistants is a much bigger thing now, largely dictated by the pressures of schedules, fast turnarounds and expectations. Those are roles that simply didn’t exist when I started out, so things have really changed for the better. Mentoring was also not something that existed in the way it does now. That’s now a real passion for me; having set up initiatives with the Oscars Academy and contributed to the work of BAFTA and the Ivors Academy we need to keep that pressure on, opening doors for composers.

What does composition mean to you?

To me, composition is a creative stream of consciousness while pushing the boundaries within the framework of a story. I can express myself and take people on an emotional journey through music. Whether I'm writing a big orchestral symphonic score or soundtracking an indie documentary, it’s an extension of my creative identity that I will never stop discovering. My music is an extension of myself as I grow as a human being, showing different facets of my personality expressed through all my projects.

I’ve recently been composing F.O.S.O, an art installation where the only brief was ‘symphonic’. It’s been the most terrifying and cathartic project with such creative freedom I’ve ever worked on, and as a result, I had to construct my own narrative around the project — and it made me reflect upon who I am. It’s funny that my experience scoring film and TV serving other stories has helped me discover who I am as an artist.