Etienne Monsaingeon shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Hi Etienne, thank you so much for taking time out of your busy day to share your story, experiences and insights with our readers. Let’s jump right in with an interesting one: What do the first 90 minutes of your day look like?
The first thing I do upon waking is set out on a hike. Before the wildfires swept through Los Angeles, I would wander the trails of Will Rogers Historic Park, but now my steps take me to Tigertail in the Santa Monica Mountains. Hiking is more than exercise for me, it’s a ritual. A kind of moving meditation that clears the mind and opens the door to creativity, especially when it comes to writing music. On the way back, I stop for coffee, and by the time I arrive home, I feel grounded, energized, and ready to begin the day!
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Etienne Monsaingeon. I am a film composer and pianist from France, now based in Los Angeles. I work both as a freelancer and with Sparks and Shadows, the music studio founded by composer Bear McCreary, where I have had the privilege of working for the past seven years. During that time, I’ve been fortunate to co-compose scores for series such as Foundation, Halo (Season 2), The Witcher: Blood Origin, The Serpent Queen, Drop, among others.
At its heart, my work is about helping the director tell a story. The score is the director’s closest ally: it can amplify a performance, guide the audience’s perspective, foreshadow what lies ahead, or even, on its own, convey the essence of the narrative without a single frame on screen. Music is the film’s invisible architecture, its sonic medium, binding emotion and story together.
What I love most about composing for film is the infinite palette of sound it offers. There are endless ways to weave notes and textures into a single emotion. Each project is a dialogue with directors and producers, an exploration of what moves them, what resonates. My role is to distill those conversations into music, into soundscapes that breathe life into their vision.
Okay, so here’s a deep one: What was your earliest memory of feeling powerful?
My earliest memory of feeling truly powerful was the moment I realized I wanted to devote my life to music. I had just transitioned from the discipline of classical study to the freedom of jazz and improvisation. Until then, music had been a solitary pursuit, something I played only for myself. I was about thirteen when a friend told me, during a midday break at school, that he and a few others had begun gathering to jam. He invited me to join them the following Wednesday and bring the piano into the mix.
That afternoon, we descended into his basement: a bassist, a drummer, a guitarist, and me at the keys. We launched into Californication by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, then Hit the Road Jack by Ray Charles. The moment our sounds collided, four instruments breathing as one. I felt an immense surge of energy swell inside me, a revelation rising from the pit of my stomach. To communicate without words, to shape something alive and electric together in real time, it was overwhelming, exhilarating. In that instant I felt an undeniable clarity: this was who I was, and this was what I was meant to do.
What fear has held you back the most in your life?
Like many musicians and creators of all kinds, I wrestle with the familiar shadow of imposter syndrome. There is a voice that whispers my music isn’t enough, that after twenty-six years at the piano I should play with greater mastery, that my compositions lack meaning, that perhaps I should quit altogether, since what’s the point of making art if it brings nothing new to the table? These doubts can be paralyzing.
For a time, they silenced me completely; each time I sat at the piano, judgment arrived before the music, and I would close the lid, convinced what I played was unworthy.
I work at this every day. Hiking has become a kind of cleansing ritual, a way to clear the heavy air of negativity. And sometimes I remind myself of the pure, unconditional joy that first drew me to music. The way it once lit me up regardless of whether it was “good” or “bad.” Reconnecting with that feeling is like finding a small lantern in the dark. Still, beneath it all lies the deeper fear of rejection, of being seen as a failure. It is a battle I continue to fight daily, and perhaps one that will never fully disappear.
Sure, so let’s go deeper into your values and how you think. What would your closest friends say really matters to you?
I believe others would say that I strive to preserve a sense of curiosity, to catch hold of the small whimsies life scatters before us each day. I cherish human connection deeply and feel most at peace when experiences are shared, whether it is debating around a long dinner table, creating music with friends, or gathering around a new project to piece together something both joyful and unexpected. Music, in many ways, mirrors this: blending sounds, textures, notes, and rhythms until they conjure a singular emotion, a fleeting spark of magic.
At my core, I try to remain as honest as possible, keeping my mind open so that I can absorb what the world and the people around me have to offer.
Okay, we’ve made it essentially to the end. One last question before you go. Could you give everything your best, even if no one ever praised you for it?
Yes, I believe I could give my best even if no one ever praised me for it but I wonder whether I could sustain that devotion for a lifetime. To be a professional musician is, after all, to place your work in the hands of others; success depends on whether people respond to the music you create. I am my own harshest critic, and I cannot release something unless I feel at peace with it. Yet the nature of film scoring demands both speed and volume, and I’ve learned to choose my battles. I do not compose a masterpiece every time. Some days I rely on what I know works, my personal book of recipes, because inspiration or energy fails me. Even then, I make certain that what I deliver is the very best I can give in that moment.
For me, creation is an act of persistence, of showing up each day and refining the craft through consistency. But if my work were never to be validated, never to reach or touch anyone, I fear that, in time, I might begin to run out of breath.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.etiennemonsaingeon.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/etiennemonsaingeon/
- Other: https://www.imdb.com/name/nm9550061/
Image Credits
I have the rights to these photos
