Lift, and the note rises.
Raise your hand and the melody climbs with it. Lower it and the music settles. That is the whole of the first lesson.

Sonari open on a Mac: a player lifts both hands into the camera, the hands light up on screen, and the note under each one is named as it sounds.

Sonari Remote on an iPhone, moving through the ways it plays: a sphere that leans with the phone, a grid of notes under a thumb, a face read for expression, a ring that answers a breath.
Sonari
Your Mac’s camera watches how you move, and the movement is the note. Ten thousand sounds are built in, or use it as a controller for your DAW.

What it is
A camera reads your hands, your face and the way you lean. A paired iPhone adds motion, breath, touch and a second camera. All of it becomes sound, and all of it becomes MIDI.

The Sonari window with a performance running: two hands tracked in the air, the note under each one named as it sounds.










The first minute
Nobody has to teach you this. Three movements, and you are playing. Everything after that is finding out what else they do.
Raise your hand and the melody climbs with it. Lower it and the music settles. That is the whole of the first lesson.
Spread your fingers and it brightens and widens. Draw them in and it closes to a whisper.
A note does not stop being yours the moment it starts. Lean, reach or turn, and it goes with you.
Ways to play
Pick a way to play, and it becomes a different instrument. A drum kit in the air. A string section. A line you play with nothing but your breath. Pick another, and it changes again.
The library
Open Sonari and it already plays. Grand pianos, gamelan, brass, strings, choirs, and patches that sound like nothing you can name. Nothing to download, and nothing else to buy.

The sound library in Sonari, scrolling past bansuri, cello sections, alphorns, zithers and drift machines, every one playable in the air.
The synth
Every one of those sounds is made here, and every one of them opens. Pull a flute apart and put it back together as something nobody has heard. You are not choosing from a list; you are standing in front of the thing that made it.

Sonari's synth with a sound open inside it: harmonics drawn across the window and moving, and the character of the sound laid out as places to move between.
The band
Put a part underneath what you are playing and it keeps itself going. A bassline that follows your chords. A groove that never drifts. Raise a hand to push it harder, close it to leave a rest.
There are 3,800+ of them — patterns, in the application's own word — taken from the world's rhythm traditions and from the mathematics underneath them. Most of them do not repeat: they follow the chord you are holding and the hand you are moving, and every one arrives with an instrument already chosen.

A player standing in a living room with her laptop open in front of her, playing the air, while a string quartet reads from her.
ArpeggioThere and back
BasslineRoot and fifth
GrooveSon clave
FigureClimb
iPhone
Sonari plays on your Mac, and your iPhone joins it. Play its screen, tilt it, breathe into it, or leave notes around the room and walk into them. Six ways in, and every one plays alongside your hands.

Sonari Remote playing: a sphere that leans as the phone leans, a face read for a smile and a raised brow, a ring that swells with a breath, and a grid of notes lighting under a thumb.
Play the screen.
Hold it and move.
Play with your face.
Breathe into it.
Point it at your hands.
Play the room.

A player holding an iPhone up in one hand and playing the air with the other.
One approval, once. After that the two find each other on their own.
The music of everywhere
Ragas, maqams, gamelan and the blues, each at the pitches its own musicians actually play. Sonari does not round the world to the nearest white key. Choose where your music comes from, and every note you reach for lands inside it.

A player sitting alone at a window with a sitar, a cello, a piano, tabla and a row of bamboo flutes standing around her, none of them in her hands.

A player at an upright piano inside a room made of light: a face the size of the wall behind her, rays turning and folding with every movement she makes.
The Stage
Your music becomes light, on your Mac or thrown across the wall behind you. Play a room, and the room plays back. Keep the take in one press, picture and all.
Visuals
Every one of them moves with what you play, in time. Pick a look the way you pick a sound. Then take it full screen, send it to a projector, and let the room have it.

The visual library in Sonari: a shelf of moving covers, one of them opened, and then the same look taken full screen and filling the window.
In the studio
Sonari arrives in the session you are already in, as one more instrument, already playing. Nothing to install, nothing to route, and no driver. Play the part with your hands, then keep it.
Plays into
Logic Pro
GarageBand

Sonari being played from a Mac: chords land one after another, the keys light as each note sounds, and the readout names what is sounding.
Recording
The best thing you play is usually the thing you were not trying to play. Sonari is already listening, so you can decide it was worth keeping afterwards.

Sonari open on a Mac while somebody plays into it: both hands lit up in the air, the note under each one named as it sounds, and the take being kept as it happens.
The take you did not plan is still there, minutes later.
Chord, then melody, then bass. One pair of hands, a whole arrangement.
Both leave as one video, ready to post.
A real file, for wherever you finish things.
For everyone
Turn your head and the notes walk with you. Hum, and a wind instrument answers. Four of the seventeen ways to play never ask for a pair of hands. Every other instrument asks you to fit its shape. This one fits yours.
Open it, lift a hand, and it is already an instrument.
macOS 26 or later, on a Mac with Apple silicon.