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In 1958, Oram became one of the first employees of the Radiophonic Workshop within the BBC corporation. However, conflict was inevitable: for the management, the workshop was merely an assembly line for producing amusing special effects and noises, while Oram saw it as a laboratory for serious research. Unwilling to compromise, she left the BBC in 1959 and founded an independent studio in a converted oast house in Kent.

It was there that she began working on Oramics — a machine that radically changed the interface between human and electricity. The design resembled a loom, inside of which ten transparent 35mm film strips slid parallelly and synchronously. Below them was an array of photoelectric cells illuminated by a continuous stream of light.

Instead of pressing keys, the composer manually drew graphic waveforms, masks, and special symbols (neumes) onto the films. As the film moved over the scanners, the opaque geometry of the drawing modulated the light. The photoelectric cells translated this interplay of shadows into electrical voltage, giving the creator total control over pitch, timbre, volume, and vibrato. Sound became tangible: a sharp graphic angle turned into a piercing attack click, while a smooth curve became a warm, vibrating glissando.

The only vulnerability of Oramics was its monophony: the synthesizer could only sing with one voice at a time. To create a polyphonic texture, Oram had to return to grueling physical labor — multitrack recording. Millimeter by millimeter, she layered the generated glassy threads of sound on top of each other on magnetic tape, creating dense, shimmering canvases like the eight-minute Four Aspects (1960). In terms of sound control, this system was a couple of decades ahead of the industry, anticipating the emergence of digital audio workstations with their graphical waveform editors.