Rob Elfrink

Rob is a skilled jazz guitarist who honed his craft at the conservatory in Groningen. He has developed a remarkable fingerpicking technique that allows him to seamlessly combine bass lines, chords, and melody. When Rob plays his 7-string jazz guitar, the effect is mesmerizing—it’s as though an entire band is performing, all through the power of his unique style.


What truly sets Rob apart is his gift for accompanying singers. His playing creates a dynamic and intimate dialogue between the voice and the guitar, crafting a musical experience that feels alive and conversational. This connection shines brightest in his collaboration with Iris. Rob’s intricate guitar work provides a solid, expressive foundation that allows Iris’s voice to soar with freedom and emotion, bringing her timing and phrasing to life in ways that captivate audiences.

In addition to being a virtuoso guitarist, Rob is also an accomplished composer. Drawing inspiration from a wide array of styles, he blends jazz-inspired harmonies with Brazilian-infused melodies to create compositions that are truly one-of-a-kind. 

In Iris, Rob has found the ideal partner to bring his music to life. Her ability to interpret lyrics with depth and perform melodies with playful precision elevates his compositions to extraordinary heights.

 

Together, Rob and Iris create a musical synergy that is both intricate and heartfelt, offering listeners a sound that is as unique as it is unforgettable.

The Guitar

On a quiet evening in Utrecht, the glow of a single lamp fell across Rob Elfrink’s music room. Against the wall leaned his pride and joy: a rare seven-string Guild jazz guitar, its maple top shimmering like honey in the dim light.

Rob picked it up gently, as if greeting an old friend, and settled into his chair. Instead of a pick, his fingers did the work—thumb, index, middle, and ring weaving together in a conversation of tones. The extra string gave him a world of depth, a hidden bass player living under his fingertips.

He began with a slow blues progression, letting the walking bass line dance beneath rich, ringing chords. Each note was deliberate, like raindrops falling on cobblestones. His thumb kept steady time, the harmony floated above, and suddenly the room was more than four walls—it was a smoky club from another era, full of hushed voices and nodding heads.

The Guild responded as if it had been waiting all day for this moment. Its voice was warm, articulate, never rushed. In Rob’s hands, fingerpicking wasn’t just a technique; it was storytelling without words. By the time the last chord faded into silence, the world outside felt softer, as though the music had folded it in velvet.

Rob set the guitar down, smiling. The night didn’t need anything else.