Saunasthesia is drawing from rave culture to help people transcend

Some people spend their Wednesday nights having a drink after work, watching a film, or maybe cooking dinner at home with a loved one. Others, I’ve discovered, like to sit in a pitch-black sauna with electronic music engulfing the dense air in a symphony of textures, while being splashed with warm water. Each to their own, of course.

The latter option is the new Saunasthesia experience, an event taking place at the Walthamstow Community Sauna in East London. Quick thinkers may associate it with synaesthesia, a neurological condition in which the brain relates colours to sound, whereas Saunasthesia is an intense multi-sensory mix of  music, an Aufguss ritual, and a blacked-out sauna. No colours to see anywhere

The concept was masterminded by William Dougherty and Omar Rivera. During Saunasthesia, Rivera performs an Aufguss ritual in the sauna, using essential oils on ice, rising temperatures and a theatrical towel-waving of steam to create an hour-long performance (split into four sessions) which is more felt than seen. He insists this is an art form in its own right: “My role is very important because at that moment we are doing the event inside the sauna, I have taken control of the situation in a way. I guide [the attendees] through the darkness to make them feel in a place where they can share or open themselves enough to find something in them.”

Dougherty, meanwhile, is the musical curator behind the previous mixes played during the sauna experience, which featured tracks by the likes of Manami, Djrum, Floating Points, Nala Sinephro and Overmono. Part of Dougherty’s stated mission statement is inspired by rave culture, just with certain elements carefully carved out and reframed within the heat of the sauna: “What we're sort of shooting for here is more of the aspects of rave culture that are quite introspective. Like how the individual connects with the music and what that means for their own internal experience.”

For their most recent event in February though, the Saunasthesia team did something a bit different and collaborated with English electronic musician Jon Hopkins for a special listening of his 2024 album ‘Ritual’. Hopkins had previously attended Saunasthesia and was amazed by the experience. Conversations to plan a bespoke event followed: “William and Omar created something truly unusual. It was kind of a no-brainer to let them do whatever they felt,” says Hopkins.

For Dougherty, this was a pinch-me moment, Hopkins being one of his favourite electronic musicians. Rivera, well, he had never listened to Hopkins’ music. But taking the plunge into his discography, he quickly saw the potential. “Yeah, this guy gets it,” Rivera recalls thinking. “He wants to help people transcend. So he was a great companion to do healing in the sauna.”

While the Saunasthesia guys got to work, Hopkins undertook the task of working the album into the four sauna sessions. “I cut the music so it could work in four chapters and added a new intro, taking some of the less obviously melodic parts and building something of a soundscape so that people could very incrementally start to feel the music come on, which obviously the record doesn't do, it starts a bit more suddenly,” he says. “But other than that, it was just a case of trusting in this ceremony and what these people are doing.”

Being the trusting person I am, I duly found myself at this special Saunasthesia event on a cold February evening, wearing nothing but my orange felt sauna hat and old swimshorts which were probably a bit too small, in the hope of (in Rivera’s words) witnessing “something really moving and transcendental.”

Blue Lotus, Mugwort, Tulsi and lemon balm. These are the contents of the tea I was offered upon my arrival at the welcoming and brightly lit Walthamstow Community Sauna. Fearing I would start seeing the pearly gates upon drinking this brew, I politely declined having brought along my own flask of peppermint. Yes, definitely in defensive mode.

Taking solace in the fact I can normally leave the sauna on a normal day whenever I please, the prospect of feeling trapped in a pitch-black sauna for 15 minutes at a time (to be honest I normally don’t last that long) was anxiety-inducing. I always tell friends that I only go to the sauna sessions for the cold plunge anyway, jalfrezi is my culinary limit, and I suffer in really hot countries. 

The reasonable question to ask here is: why Saunathesia then? When I first spoke to Dougherty about the experience, he hammered home that it wouldn’t be a doddle, confirming that part of the experience of the event is challenging your body; it’s just as important as every other component. 

I consider texting my goodbyes in case I don’t make it out, and whistle nervously as I make my way to the octagonal sauna hut for the very first Saunasthesia session in its new Walthamstow home, having moved from the Hackney Wick Community Sauna.

Before all of the attendees enter, we are each given a tiny torch to shine in case we feel the need to leave. Existential questions about why one might need to leave cross my mind. Happily, there is no time to dwell, as Dougherty kicks starts his introduction. He states there is no shame in not being able to handle the heat, and that undercover sauna agents will help us out at the blink of a torch if necessary, and then reassuringly teaches us a breathing technique to help ground ourselves and push through any potential discomfort.

And with that, he’s off again. The door is sealed shut like an airlock on a space ship. It’s really, really dark, like Vantablack dark. Hopkins’ new musical introduction slowly crescendoes in and fills up the hot air with dense soundscapes, and before I have a moment to adjust, Rivera has begun his Aufguss ritual. Smells feel extra prominent without sight, though trying to decipher each scent of the incense and oils is tough. Is it Frankincense? No, maybe Sandalwood? I can’t tell. I’m overwhelmed. I also can’t tell if it’s tears or sweat dripping down my face. The first 15 minute session is meant to be the warm up, but the heat is startlingly intense. Still, I manage a shiver, thanks to the deep clarity of the sauna’s Hi-Fi system and Hopkins’ moving music.

The bespoke quadraphonic soundsystem is the work of Berlin-based sound engineer Itamar Asher, who also DJs under the moniker Somme Farris. Titled the ‘Alephalef Nordo II’, these speakers are specifically made for the extreme heat and size of the octagon sauna in Walthamstow. Asher confirms installation required some practical decisions too: “It was quite a challenging room to position the speakers. They need to stay [in the sauna] and there's the whole issue of cleaning around them. Do you hang them or keep them in a space without disturbing the maintenance routine?”

Asher previously designed the soundsystem for the Hackney Wick Saunasthesia location, and has only improved on what was a brilliant set of speakers there for this new site. He is clearly proud of the sound quality: “The sound is really optimised for the seats. I think in the previous one, the sound was more spatial. [The speakers] relied more on the reflections and it was less even throughout the space, you got different experiences wherever you were sitting. I think this one is much more coherent.” 

The Nordo II speakers are crafted from a rainforest plywood that naturally has more oils in it, in turn withstanding the heat and the humidity better. Gut them and you will find a weather-protected ‘passive radiator’ which keeps the box sealed whilst keeping a brilliant low end sound, plus modular crossovers which allow any components to be changed if any rusting or other problems occur.

It was decided the best place for the speakers was to be placed on the benches amongst saunagoers. Within the box, the actual speakers are triangular and face towards the ceiling,  causing people sitting on the other side of them to get the sound reflected, while those close receive direct sound from the speaker. Because there are two sets of two speakers either side of the sauna, this creates an atmospheric soundscape that utterly engulfs you. To get them sounding this great, Asher tells me he has a special playlist to test the speakers in production: “Some of [the songs] are really bad in terms of their mastering, the general sound of them is harsh. So if your speakers are playing them harshly, maybe you need to tune them a bit more. [The playlist is] tracks that you need to fight. So if you get them right [on your speakers], you'll get others right,” Asher jokes.

Asher definitely got it right. ‘Ritual’ sounds glorious with such precision, and after a break and some frozen grapes, the second, and in turn, third sessions of sauna commence. The intensity is notched further, the heat raised, and Rivera’s ritual becomes more vibrant, even knocking my hat off a few times. By this point, I have to say the anxiety I felt at the start has completely subsided. Instead, a sense of ease has overtaken me, and I have learnt to sit comfortably with the heat, smells and sounds.

In the most intense session, session three, Hopkins’ tracks ‘part v - evocation’ and ‘part vi - solar goddess return’ are particularly heightened moments of sensations. An industrial synth loop cranks up, like a robot malfunctioning, and causes the seats to slightly vibrate thanks to the bass, as short, rapid breaths ring out around the space amid celestial crooning. Flicks of water droplets come from Rivera and steam is flung sharply around the room creating a very disorientating atmosphere, but also offering a physical encouragement to stick out any persisting discomfort and surrender fully to the experience.

At the other end of the spectrum, such as in the fourth session, the fragility of Hopkins' work through piano, strings and airy textures results in a far more relaxed environment. Tracks like ‘part viii - nothing is lost’ are mesmerising, transfixing your focus on those rich layers with a side order of Rivera’s curated scents, as the concept of a physical body becomes more foreign. Rivera best describes it: “You forget about your body, and just become ‘something’. You become a presence that is just there.”

As the experience finishes, everyone leaves the sauna. There isn’t instantaneous chatter or woop woops, but instead a palpable peace and quiet and an air of camaraderie that we all collectively went through the experience together. Among both those relatively new to the sauna and those experienced, spirits seem to be high. I go and try the tea I had earlier been afraid to drink, and pour a lukewarm cup which I now sip confidently. While this seems trivial, to me it’s a sign that Saunasthesia has had the exact effect on me I needed. It has acted as a reset, a reminder that I can put myself through uncomfortable situations and sit with feelings I don’t necessarily like. Without that reminder, it’s easy to avoid these emotions or simply ‘leave the sauna’, instead of challenging yourself to tackle them head on. These sessions top up my glass of confidence to the level I quite often need.

My feeling of course isn’t the singular ‘right’ way that Saunasthesia can impact you. Adam Nuhi, a lawyer from London, also attended one of the Jon Hopkins Saunasthesia sessions. For Nuhi, the experience was more “cathartic”: “On that specific night, I was phenomenally stressed with work. I'd had a pretty rough week and it was like, not to sound trite, but it was fully cathartic, spiritual, however you want to name it. It was amazing. I felt a heightened emotive rawness that was both comfy, but also quite raw, a sort of thoughtfulness. I definitely ‘felt’ feelings, and that endured to the next day.”

Nuhi’s catharsis encapsulates Dougherty’s mission statement to focus on introspection and how the individual connects with the music. To Nuhi, rave culture doesn’t acknowledge this enough. He cites queer events such as playbody and PapaLoko as experiences which are achieving this goal, through the former’s push for body connectedness, their hour-long decompression time after the intense rave, and PapaLoko's breath-work activity between DJ sets.

Raving can be rather formulaic for Nuhi, in the sense that the music abruptly ends and you are left to find your way home, which to him, is unsatisfying. Instead, he wishes for a more discerning culture where the catharsis and connectedness of our bodies are prioritised just as much through spaces allowing time to decompress, hydrate, connect with your fellow dancers and friends:  “It could be a really holistic experience of celebration, that encompasses the totality of the experience, rather than having it pigeonholed to listening to this music and dancing to it and then ending. It’s just a bit abrupt.”

Nuhi highlights the fact that within the queer scene, there are already spaces which have a real focus on both community and electronic music: “There's a peace around connectedness and community in a place where you're with other people like you, where you're not usually. And then there is this heightened awareness of the body, and the need to take care of yourself and others, which comes again with marginalisation, but also with the body being something that's debated.”

This more niche gap in the market between raving and wellness is beginning to be plugged by events like Saunasthesia which prioritise the body and mind, and thereby better meet the more nuanced demands of attendees such as those at Walthamstow.

This has been picked up by others in the world of electronic music. Meeshy, for instance, is a tech-house DJ, producer, and a resident on Skepta and Jammer’s Más Tiempo label and party. She’s also a sound therapist. Similarly to Saunasthesia, in February Meeshy ran her first sauna rave in Shoreditch: “I just want to do a series of events where wellness crosses over into electronic music. They're both my loves. I feel like people think [electronic music] is associated with alcohol, drugs, blah blah blah, but what I really want to do is show people that it's not, and that this music is also healing and therapeutic in other surroundings.”

Meeshy’s sauna rave was accompanied by live percussionist David is a King (AKA Dirty Danger from Ruff Sqwad) and featured 90 minutes of slightly slowed tech-house tunes for sauna goers. There was only one technical hiccup which seems remarkable considering the controller and speakers were in the sauna. Meeshy’s set took people on a more mellow sound journey, similar to when she hosts sound baths, rather than full of big drops she might adopt while playing at [UNVRS]. 

Meeshy aims to continue to align wellness and rave culture, suggesting finding a bridge between infrared light therapy and electronic music could be her next conquest. She is aware of the outdated stereotypes that can permeate both separate communities, with one glorifying substances, and one adopting a ‘holier than thou’ energy, but she wants to bring the two closer without participants even being aware it’s happening, until they’re like “oh shit!”

“It's nice to be able to go into other environments where you are receiving something, where you're gonna leave feeling better, that you know is really good for you,” Meeshy states. “It's just bringing alternative experiences. Everyone's getting older, not everyone wants to be in a club, but people love this music.”

Jon Hopkins’ sentiments on wellness and electronic music’s partnership mirror Meeshy’s: “I don't really rave anymore because I've kind of used up my rave points in life I think, but I still love the music and I still love the culture and I think it crosses over really well with some of this stuff.

“I'm not saying I don't still love a few beers and stuff, but it is really nice to have things that are not tied to the drinking culture that we inherited in England and [have] things that are actually about feeling amazing, while there's not really any compromise on how fun it is.”

It’s unsurprising then that Hopkins, an avid sauna goer, was drawn to Saunasthesia, and in turn would want to collaborate. Hopkins’ collaboration with Saunasthesia wasn’t for profit (none of the Saunasthesia events have been), but instead, the ticket prices all went to Choose Love, a charity which works to support refugees and displaced persons around the world.

Considering there were only 60 seats in the sauna across two separate Saunasthesia sessions, the only way to give out tickets was via a raffle. This raffle raised an astonishing £10,000 for the charity, all in the name of saunaing.

Normally, the ticket money from Saunasthesia goes right back into the social prescribing fund at the Community Sauna Baths. This fund is there to host free sessions for such people as NHS workers or refugees, aiming to help people feel welcome and have a sense of community in the area. For Dougherty, donating to the Choose Love charity is just as special as giving back to the sauna community: “It's a charity that I volunteered for a few years ago. I went to their place in Calais, which is a distribution warehouse. I spent a couple of days there volunteering. It was a nice full circle moment to make another contribution in a much bigger way than I'm able to as an individual.”

Dougherty and Rivera’s selflessness is moving, and you can tell it’s genuine: “One of the primary motivators for even creating the event is because the community gave so much to me, and I wanted to give back to contribute towards that community,” Dougherty says.

Rivera shares a similar sentiment: “Seeing how this event helped a lot of people and how you can reach a lot of people that are in need, I think it helped me to have more faith in what we can achieve. Now I've learned that you can create sacred spaces, even in mundane spaces. But you have to have intention and work.”

Their collaboration with Hopkins marks a move in a direction that is exciting for the duo, and opens up a world of possibility. For Rivera, his dream is to work with Jamie xx, describing him as someone who is trying to “create something with feeling”. Dougherty is a bit more vague about future plans, but I’m certain he’s got something appropriately bonkers in mind: “I just think continuing to break the rules and push the boundaries is really exciting.”

But despite the weight of boundary-pushing and broken rules, Dougherty knows the core aspect of Saunasthesia that is iron clad and will never bend under the heat of the sauna: “Mate, ultimately, I just think it's an unbelievable space to listen to music.”

Finn Cliff Hodges is a freelance journalist, follow him on Instagram