A True Yunatic
Some composers don’t just write music – they create emotional architecture. Max Richter is one of them. Blending classical tradition with ambient minimalism, Richter composes soundtracks for both the soul and the stars. His work feels like it’s always been there – quietly waiting to be felt.
Trained in both formal composition and experimental sound, Richter bridges the space between the concert hall and the headphones. His music doesn’t demand attention – it invites you in.
“Music can describe everything – what a thought smells like, what a tree sounds like.” – Max Richter
The Inner Child
Max’s inner child is quiet, curious and deeply feeling. You can hear it in the way he writes – gentle repetition, soft swells, melodies that hover between joy and sorrow. That child sees time differently, slower, more meaningfully. He once said he wants to write music that’s like “a place to think” – and that’s exactly what he’s done. Over and over again.
Tribbles
- The Blue Notebooks – Music meets memory, featuring Tilda Swinton reading Kafka.
- Sleep – An 8-hour lullaby for the subconscious. Part neuroscience, part tenderness.
- Scores for Arrival, Ad Astra, The Leftovers, My Brilliant Friend – Elevating emotion in film and television.
- Voices – A choral and orchestral project inspired by the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.
Each piece is a slow-burn balm, made not to distract, but to reconnect you to something quieter inside.
“Beauty is the quiet voice that persists underneath the noise.” – Max Richter
Connected with the Yuniverse
Max Richter’s music doesn’t sit still – it drifts, breathes and orbits. He writes as if time is liquid and emotion is its current. His compositions feel like weather systems for the heart, gently syncing us to something larger, older and infinitely patient.
He doesn’t just write music – he listens to the space between the notes.
Spiritual
His spirituality is felt, not named. It’s in the stillness his music offers, the way it invites silence, attention and inner movement. His work is more than music – it’s meditation in motion, a quiet ritual for a world in need of pause.
Max Richter reminds us that in a noisy world, sometimes the most radical act is to listen – gently, slowly, deeply.