For Nick Martin, writing a song is an act of catharsis. It’s a way of untangling the uncertainty of a new beginning, while honouring the shadow of the past. It’s a means of piecing together the patchwork of experience to understand the present, and it’s a route into the next phase: the rise of the moon, and the glow of dawn. As Blue Luminaire, Martin interrogates transitions, cycles and fresh starts with a tender and empathetic lens. On their debut album Terroir, the Oxford-born, Copenhagen-based composer utilises their classical music training to create a unique and otherworldly sonic experience where past selves collide, and the universality of heartbreak, familial patterns and grief permeate. Growing up in Bedford, Martin was surrounded by classical music. His father was a classical pianist, and Martin found himself shunning the mainstream pop that filled the airwaves, and instead gravitated towards obscure 19th century Russian composers and Brian Eno LPs. This early obsession formed much of Martin’s musical language, and soon they started crafting their own original compositions and experimenting with their vocal range. With interrogation came revelation, and Martin began drifting from the confines of traditional classical music to create something entirely his own.