Xavier was fantastic to collaborate with - he really understood, and was excited about, not just the technical requirements but also the creative concept behind the piece. One of the most rewarding things about working with Xavier is his enthusiasm for figuring out how to do things he’s never done before. Most importantly, Xavier is a genuinely lovely person to work with—enthusiastic, thoughtful, and collaborative. He brought a friendly, disarming energy to this process, which was especially valuable when I’m out of my depth working with unfamiliar technology.

Xavier's work on Oedipus was exceptional. From the brief I gave him that I wanted the show to be led by sound and the constraint that every sound had to be made by the actors on stage, Xavier, using some pretty nifty self-designed technology, was able to create exactly what I wanted and more. The result was the most beautifully designed show in terms of sound I’ve ever made and a sound world that grabbed 600 audience members every show and moved them from darkness of grief to the blinding light of hope.

[Xavier] Velastin and [Hannah] Mook use the stage as a giant musical instrument, combining the pleasingly low-tech (the old style overhead projector gave me flashbacks to school assemblies) with what I'm assuming is live digital audio manipulation. I don't know precisely how they're producing this soundscape, but it appears that their interactions and movements through the set become translated into sound. This creates a unique hour-long piece of music that's different every time its performed.

Particularly noteworthy in its ambition to pull together an interesting allegory with experimental live production techniques, the principle success of My Whale is it’s ability to present us with the sounds, and feelings, of loneliness ... [and] to create one succinct performance piece through the combination of a linear stage show and experimental audio and visual production techniques. [sic]

[W]hen rowing out to sea, dipping a mug into a bucket of water over a microphone does an incredible job of establishing an atmosphere. So much so that I opted to experience a good third of the production with my eyes closed, and can honestly say that I still found it to be as transporting and affecting as some of the best radio dramas I’ve listened to.

Xavier Velastin’s beautifully rich sound design echoes droplets, waves, and rushes of liquid as fans and speakers dotted around the edge of the stage interact with large silver mylar foils that ripple and rustle. The textures are brilliant.

Composer and musician Xavier Velastín, on the Cockpit’s gantry, is almost as fascinating to watch as the cast on the ground, as he creates unique audio effects through his own body movement.

Xavier Velastin’s brilliantly unsettling sound design rumbles underneath throughout, rising from a dull hum to a furious roar.

Xavier Velastin’s sound design complements the spooky nature of the production, with perfect variations in the ambient music that fills the whole production.

The use of sound is masterful and subtle. It takes all the bumps and growls of VAULT Festival and turns them into an animal to be tamed, a constant underscore of longing.