Ever wondered what it would be like if Phoebe Bridgers’ discography had a baby with Laufey’s? Look no further than Calista Kweon, a Nashville-based artist. Her new single “Daffodils” is a dreamy indie ballad, and it’s all about how the only constant thing in our lives will be chance. We sat down and spoke with her all about it!
Q: Hey Calista! How did you get to where you are today? How did you start?
A: I got to Belmont University in Nashville, Tennessee. I’m in my last few weeks, but it was always the plan. I grew up doing classical, and musical theater. My path pre-pandemic was musical theatre. The pandemic changed everything for me, and I did not imagine myself doing this. My technical degree is in commercial music, and I didn’t know what that encompassed. I spent those few years figuring out who I was as a person, and I started songwriting. My sophomore year changed everything for me. I went to Montreal with my siblings, and I played classical music in a seminar, and someone told me to record. I was confused and got in contact with a producer who’s been on my projects, and then I released “place to go.” It was scary because I had no idea what I was doing, but it was received very well, and it was validating. I started gaining more confidence just writing, and I’m very piano-based, but I picked up a guitar last year. I’ve been fortunate to take some songwriting classes, and it has been transformative and therapeutic.
Q: Tell us about “Daffodils.” What themes and sounds did you intend to explore?
A: Last spring, I had pneumonia, and I still lived on campus. I was walking to the clinic, and it was a hike. As I was walking from an appointment, I saw the daffodill buds peeking out from what was left over. That resonated with me, and it was helpful because there were intense personal life things going on. I didn’t know what the next year was going to look like because I was anxious. I didn’t know if I wanted to be in the place I wanted, even though I didn’t know what that was. I picked up a guitar and wrote that song. I wrote about how change is constant, and even with the state of the world now, we are in a constant state of change. If we start to think too far ahead in the future, we lose a sense of living in the now. That was the theme of “Delay.” I like the terminology that I am the flower, people see a garden, and sometimes people can pick you too early even though you are still growing. Daffodils are seasonal, and they come back every year, and you don’t have to plant them. There’s something about that that I like about spring, and next year, I will still grow, and I will still learn.
Q: The cover art is beautiful. What was the story behind it?
A: I’m a freelance photographer and during the pandemic, I found my photographic voice and fell in love with film and digital photography. I almost went to college for it but found music was the way. I still incorporated visual art into my music. This outfit came together because I was on a budget, but the song feels ethereal, and I wanted to capture that visually. The motion incorporated was all about movement and motion because we’re changing, and nothing is constant. The only thing is constant in change, so I put movement into the visuals. It took me a while to figure out what I wanted it to be with the cover art. The way that I felt was like I was letting it all out.
Q: “Daffodils” is a song inspired by nature. How else are you inspired by nature, and how does this play into your music?
A: We see life and try to explain it through art, whether that’s visual art or music. Part of life is nature and being outside. I think that it is a true healing power to be outside and listen to the world. There’s so much music noise in the world, but there can be peaceful noise. I want my world to feel peaceful or re-balanced. Music can explain what words cannot explain. Sometimes its hard to digest difficult topics, even joyful feelings. The way that I process emotions is through songwriting and putting it in a way that anyone can relate to words. I feel very privileged that I can share my words, and people want to listen, whether that’s my friends or a stranger in another country.
Q: You have released three singles, “Delay,” “Quilts,” and “place to go?” How does “Daffodils” differ or strike a similar chord to that?
A: Sonically, this song is the widest I’ve ever put it. I don’t even know how I created this! The melody is odd, but it has words over these ambiguous chords. In real time, this arrangement doesn’t make any sense. It is this kind of Phoebe Bridgers drone sound, feeling like you’re in a dream or liminal space. I love that feeling because it forces the listener to hone in on the words. Not that my other songs haven’t done that, but they’ve been more sombre. “Quilts” was a piano ballad to my younger self. “Delay” is a lot different because it’s a pop-rock tune, and I remember being in the studio, and my producer told me to belt the bridge. It tied the bow, and I was working on “Delay” and “Daffodils” at the same time. Last summer, I spent all my time working on these two songs. My voice lived in a similar place between “Daffodils” and “Delay”. In “Daffodils” I’m softer, but in “Delay” I’m singing to you. The message in both of them is that time is moving. “Daffodils” is about going forward, but “Delay” honours the sense that we need to be more present. It calls and responds to different scenarios, but it’s a homage that I need to be more present, but I have to keep going forward. Somebody told me recently that there are 86400 seconds in a day, and if someone takes 20, is it going to change your whole day or just be 20 seconds?
Q: You blend jazz and alternative? What are your biggest music influences?
A: I find a lot of influences in Adam Melcher, Phoebe Bridgers, Ryan Beatty, Lauvey, especially with representation (she’s an OG fan). I remember she came and performed at a smaller venue in Nashville, and then the next year she sold out the biggest venue. There’s also Olivia Dean and Tiny Habits. I also want to be more like Clairo as I love her playfulness. To me, music is serious, so there is a weight and technicality, and I love that music can be fun or silly and can put you in a good mood. I kind of want to write a song that feels fun and sing-songy. I want to invite that more into my songwriting.
Q: Who would be a dream collaboration?
A: Laufey, 100%. I met her post-show and got to chat with her. I would love to sit down with her and just talk with her. Nobody gets it in the commercial industry with jazz. No one’s doing like her.
Q: Is “Daffodils” part of a larger project, or does it stand on its own? If it is part of a bigger project, then tell us all about that.
A: I haven’t decided if I want to put this on the EP or not. I am releasing an EP, on an undetermined date but this summer. If it is a part of the debut project, then the project will be about growth, and moving forward. There’s going to be genre-bending songs that touch on my favourite influences. I have R&B, then folk, and then I have a whimsical and magic song about my time in England. These songs draw in from key moments in my life. It’s a blend of things I have been crafting on for the next year. I’ve been thinking of the cover art, and I’ve been dancing around with iterations on what it could look like.
Q: You’re from Nashville, which is a city more known for its country music. Despite that, how does the city continue to inspire you and your music?
A: When I moved here, people expected me to like country music. I don’t know anything about country music. I was terrified that I would not find a music community that garnered what I liked, even with the pandemic. In my sophomore and my junior years, I found my people. They not only changed my life musically but also as a friend. They’ve made my experience here all the more worth it, with school and the people first. I got introduced to new kinds of music, too. They would introduce me to other genres. The vocabulary of music as a writer and a listener has opened up musically. I have dabbled in the country genre, as I’ve lived here, so there’s some folk bluegrass music tied into my artistry. This past week, I had to perform a bluegrass song in a seminar, and I performed in front of my very talented peers. My friend cried, and she told me it was so good. It was something in my rep, and the storytelling part of my writing voice lends itself very well to that genre.
Q: What is your dream venue to perform at?
A: Because I’ve been in Nashville for four years, it is the Ryman. It is the holy space in music, and if you can get on there, then you’ve made it. Whether that’s as a solo artist or a background artist, I hope I can get there one day. It’s always felt that putting up this music is this intangible thing. I’m not putting out things that are “going to sell on the market,” and that’s not me, and that’s fine. For other people, being famous is the goal, but if I ever wanted to spend this much money on music school to be famous, then I didn’t have to spend it on that. I want to get to the Ryman to share my goal of music with others. It does invite community and collaboration.
Q: How do you define authenticity in terms of your music and yourself?
A: If I go back to the things I said, the reason I do music isn’t to get the most streams or followers, which is cool if that’s what you want to do, but I would not feel like an authentic person putting my music out there for that reason. It would not make music fun and joyful. Authenticity is music that sticks to where I know that I thrive, knowing I would have to remind myself of my morals and values. I know who I am the best, and I don’t want to become someone that I’m not both as an artist and as a person. It can be easy for stardom to get to people’s heads easily, and the people that have been around me the past few years have shaped me. No matter what my craft is, and the amount of recognition, will not change who I am as a person. I want to be able to connect with everyone and establish trust. I want there to be self-worth and to remind myself of my wholeness. It can be easy to lose sight of what you care about when you get in the mix of your craft. I care about my family and friends and being healthy. That’s writing music for my soul, and not ones that sell out the charts. I would have a terrible time doing that. My confidence is there, and I am my internal reference for my art, and I don’t need external validation for my art. I know what speaks to my soul, and I know how to write music. I cannot please everyone, and I cannot please the world. But it is for the people that get it.
Q: What is your creative process for music making?
A: I am melodically driven. I start my songs with a melody, but if I have lyrics, I’m thinking of the rhythm and the melody. It is easy to get a song started, starting with a piano demo or a guitar voice memo. I can produce my demos, working with my friends who are producers. The producer I work with is established and knows what’s going on. It’s nice to work with friends, and we’re doing this together well, not to say that my producer doesn’t work well with me. I’ll bring in the demo, and we’ll workshop the demo, working towards a finished product. That can mean I revise the lyrics, and there’s a lot of that in the sessions. For most of my songs, this is what I want the song to be, and these are the instrumentations. There have been songs on the EP that I sent to my producer, and I hesitate because they were unfinished, and it was things he wanted to work with because it was his favorite. “Daffodils” has been one of my favorite songs to write. It’s very story based, about a person who is in my life, who has changed me for the music. I write everything in a notebook, and I have a journal. I’ve had it for two and a half years, and I like the physicalness of it. It doesn’t just live in the digital world, but is a record of my life. I love the tactileness that it offers.
Q: What does music mean to you? In making your music, who do you hope to inspire, and what message do you spread?
A: This question is about the entire theme of my capstone. I wondered, what am I doing here? Music, to me, is a language and a connection. It is relationships with myself and understanding the world around me. I listen to music where I don’t speak the language, so it still makes me feel something. Sometimes, it’s not the lyrics but the music composition that moves my heartstrings. I’m South Korean, and I listen to Korean music that move me differently than, let’s say, a Saudi Arabian song from the ’70s. The common denominator is that we can all access this music and gain a feeling about it and understand the culture. I just want to reach people, and I’m very fortunate that I’m able to do that. During my freshman year of COVID, I had no idea how to release music. Now that I’m almost ready to leave college, I’m more sure of who I am. I am confident, I am driven, I am worthy, and I have so much to say, and I want to share that with the people who want to listen.
Moonbow Magazine 