“Trees are poems that the earth writes in the sky.”
Khalil Gibran
She’s Like An Untamable Horse. You Can Romp Up With Her To The Horizon And Beyond.
I like to picture Anke as a free, wild, and untethered soul — a force of nature, who, with her sensitivity and keen perception, can peer directly into people’s hearts. With the help of her unique voice, she transforms her strength and vulnerability into pure emotion — which manifests in us as love! Anyone who has ever experienced her knows: she is unmistakable — there is no escaping her aura.
Her ability to peer into the innermost of others gives her access to authentic feelings and stories, which she transforms – quite often alongside me – into powerful images through poetry. She always remains spontaneous and never falls into boring clichés.
Anyone who knows a bit about the Hindu deities knows that Saraswati is the goddess of knowledge, music, and all other forms of creative expression. Furthermore, she is the goddess of speech, bearer of Brahma’s creative intelligence, and mother of the Vedas – the sacred scriptures of the Hindus.
I find Anke embodies her with astonishing harmony. I say this not in adoration, but out of deep respect.
There is one important thing that has connected us for many years: lightness – the total freedom in the collaborative creative process. Hours can pass while creating images through words, first melodies resonate in rhythmic ecstasy and we arrange the first chords and instrumentation.
It’s like a dance…
Anke And I Share Many Things, But Especially The Desire For Unity.
Sometimes the words dance, sometimes the melody, and then, fueled by the joy of creation, our hearts dance. As with every movement, friction arises, sometimes it gets heated – we had to learned how to transform this into productivity. So we pas the balls back and forth, sometimes euphorically, sometimes deeply sad – always sensual, always focused on the beauty of poetry itself.
One thing has always been true to me: The music lies in the words, hidden in the metaphors of the lyrics. When they are coherent and the poetry radiates, music flows with ease – the prerequisite for this is a connection with the cosmic creative energy. This may sound a bit esoteric, but it describes precisely the meditative state needed for writing lyrics and composing music.
Our spiritual connection and our uncompromising creative freedom continually creates surprising results! In 2025, our work for the LoveGate documentary was honored with multiple awards.
At present our world is divided, driven by tribalism and hatred. We believe that music, as a universal language, offers a wonderful opportunity to reconnect people – like the Hindus state: “Inner peace for body and mind, peace with fellow human beings and world peace.”
“Om Shanti, Shanti, Shanti.”
“Music Acts Like A Magic Key, To Which The Most Tightly Closed Heart Opens.”
Maria Augusta von Trapp
MY POETIC TAKE ON SVENLiving the joy of the "bonnie" arts
By Anke Schaubrenner, October 2025
A Search For Truth In Music And Poetry.
Sven Gordon Williams was written above the doorbell. The door opened. I climbed the white stairs to his former studio and walked into a large, open room, well-oiled dark wood – no creaking. “Hello, my lovely, nice to have you over!” Sven’s voice resounded in a deep cobalt blue.
Tall man, broad back, delicate hands. All those guitars standing in neat order, waiting to be played. The grand piano stood invitingly in the middle of the room. Tears of candle wax on its black lacquer – I smiled and thought: “People play here until late at night.” We talked. No platitudes, no small talk. A circus tent full of dreams had opened its curtains for me. Sven listened while he wrote notes in his old leather journal. He still uses it today. It has a distinct patina. After this wonderful encounter, it was immediately clear to us that we spoke the same language.
I’ve always been searching for truth, in music and poetry, looking for a producer who can capture my images and thoughts and realize extraordinary musical ideas, arrange them tastefully, and finish them in the shortest possible time. I’m excited – could it be that I’ve found my soul mate?
A Day At The Jewish Café.
Sven is wearing a waistcoat. Fine fabric. Quite the Scottish gentleman. A pen on his leather journal. Leaves full of words fall from his book as if searching for autumnal melodies so they can follow their destiny and become songs. The lion in him moves leisurely; no hurry. The cappuccino in the large white cup is strong and delicious – he always takes two at least.
He talks about his Scottish father – Alan David Williams. About an evening at Ronnie Scott’s in London feat. the Berkeley All Stars. His dad had reserved the best seats, right in front of the stage. The evening kicks off with: “I fall in love so easily…”, while the singer looks deep into his eyes, he leans over to his father and whispers: “She reminds me of Ella.” Every now and then he looks over at his father, recognizes his joy in listening, and watches as he sways to the rhythm of the band.
One of the precious father and son moments that he keeps – he felt where his roots are – he recognized himself in his father – that evening he felt at home and seen. (Read more below)
TONE
“A single tone is the smallest vibration that resonates within us.
We are after the heartfelt resonance that connects us.”
Sven Gordon Williams
“Music Expresses That Which Cannot Be Said And On Which It Is Impossible To Be Silent.”
Victor Hugo
The Seven Seas Are Calling.
Our boat has draft, it’s fully loaded, stuffed to the brim with ideas. It picks up speed while the waves are rising. Atmospheric landscapes of our souls glide past us like foreign shores from past journeys. We remember – sometimes vaguely, sometimes crystal clear.
Our encounter turned into a journey – our provisions were letters and tones that had fallen from a tree like heavy, ripe papayas. A Newtonian apple moment – This will be great – Type & Tone is born!
Days, weeks, months, years, and decades pass by. Our bond gives us absolute certainty that dancing to fiery soul music is more important than food—even though we’re both passionate cooks.
Our songs grow into rosebuds. Out of good mother earth, they entwine themselves over the stone walls of old castles; ever higher, as if their history nourished them.
Sven composes while he, the experienced captain, navigates our ship through the shallows of life. Nevertheless, seemingly undaunted, he creates glamorous, powerful sound collages that, when combined with my vocals, are a reminder that I’m allowed to follow my dreams.
Setting sails!
His beats set the pace – and our hearts beat in unison…
Sven Is Painting The Leviathan – Moby Dick.
Me: “Please tell me more.“ He: “Do you like Shakespeare?”
Sonnet No. 60, which we recorded exactly 21 years ago, became our initial spark and still makes people cry. Pure, unvarnished, yet full of hope, its sustaining melody follows the arpeggio in pulse of the steady surf: “Like as the waves make towards the pebbl’d shore, so do our minutes hasten to their end…” a melancholy sea breeze – the breath of our earth. All of this reminds me of the wildly meandering rivers of life. We can only guess what awaits us around the next bend.
It was a first take. Sven on piano, me close by at the microphone. Silence reigns in the control room. Then, all the girls of the choir – Emmi, Caro, Nina – are in tears. It’s a touching moment – no perfection, just emotion – we leave it exactly like that.
Outside, the wind starts blowing. As always, in autumn, a rich minor vibe is present. So be it. It’s evening again. At the end of the day, there’s always a faint hint of anticipation for the next meeting, a sigh that turns into a smile. Our meetings always end far too soon – like the gentle flapping of fast-passing butterflies.
For me, Sven is like a strong branch of the tree of life with the soul of a child – full of curiosity, wisdom and seemingly inexhaustible creativity.
( Find out more about the Moby Dick Project and its paintings )
“Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and life to everything”
Plato