For a few years now, the UVA music department has taken to highlighting the works of its most progressive and conceptually minded students at the Digitalis Electronic Music Festival each spring. As a loose genre name, electronic music can be confounding to wrap your head around—the classification is broad, and never really reveals what you’re in for.
A 12-hour rave of hardcore techno by dueling DJs? An older musician hunched over metal boxes employing a theremin in search of a melodic line? An outraged group of 18-year-olds kicking a vintage computer while they fuel unease by screaming in distortion? It could be any and all of the above.
This year’s Digitalis comes in secrecy. That is to say, UVA hasn’t shared the program as of press time, so there’s no saying what the audience is in for this go-around.
If previous iterations are anything to go by—and maybe they’re not, but if they are—the meanings to be conveyed in the pieces presented stand to be heady, the sounds novel, and the musicianship often rooted in classical fundamental dexterity. Two years ago, performers were exploring topics ranging from the history of whale killings, plastic accumulation in the oceans, and Canadian air quality, to the data of U.S. maternal mortality and the consequences of nuclear power.
As far as the electronics go, It’s likely not straight-up sine waves and synthesizers as much as an encyclopedia of digitally edited sounds. In the recent past, more than one student played sounds built off of rocks, sticks, and leaves; some used their voice to sing through multi-effects to change the overall impact; others played shaped white noise or field recordings of rivers.
Whatever Digitalis holds for 2026, there’s a good chance the audience will witness surprising results and uncommon sound sources rather than block rockin’ beats. Then again, who can be sure? It’s 90 minutes long and you don’t have to camp out, but it is, after all, an electronic music festival.