Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Yohji Cantar Daquio. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Yohji Cantar, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. I’m sure there have been days where the challenges of being an artist or creative force you to think about what it would be like to just have a regular job. When’s the last time you felt that way? Did you have any insights from the experience?

I often think about how lucky I am to have the best of both worlds. As an artist, I get to perform and gig all over the country, doing what I love and sharing my passion with audiences in cities I used to only dream about. At the same time, I have a flexible and supportive job at PianoPiano Rental Studios, where I work as a rental specialist. It’s a role that doesn’t just pay the bills—it feeds my spirit, too.

The last time I really thought about what it might be like to have a “regular” job was a few months ago. I had just returned from a long weekend of back-to-back shows in different states. The travel, the adrenaline, and the late nights had caught up with me, and I found myself in the buzzing office at PianoPiano on Monday morning, sipping coffee—exhausted but fulfilled. For a brief moment, I considered what it might be like to slow down, to find more time for myself. Could I really keep balancing a full-time job with a performing career?

But then I looked around. Everyone was singing or playing instruments. An opera company was setting up for auditions in one of the rehearsal rooms. A jazz trio I’d seen perform in the Village was warming up nearby. I was surrounded by people just like me—artists pursuing their crafts, juggling gigs, pushing through the same hustle. And I realized: my job doesn’t pull me away from my artistic life. It’s woven into it.

At PianoPiano, I’m part of a community that lives and breathes creativity. My work gives me the structure I need, without stifling my freedom. I know this isn’t something every artist gets, and I don’t take it for granted. I’m incredibly grateful to be in a place that not only allows flexibility but embraces and celebrates the artist’s journey.

So yes, I sometimes wonder what the “regular” path might feel like—but then I remember that I’ve built a life where I don’t have to choose. I’m performing, creating, and working in an environment that inspires me every day. And that, to me, is the best of both worlds.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

Music has been a part of my life quite literally since before I was born. I grew up in the Philippines, where it’s not unusual to hear someone singing karaoke at 6 a.m.—and not just singing, but belting with full commitment. In my own home, karaoke wasn’t just entertainment; it was a family sport. We would compete for the highest score, cheering each other on (and sometimes getting a little too competitive). My mother always tells me that music surrounded me from the moment I existed. When she was pregnant, she would wrap headphones around her belly and play songs through her Walkman, believing I could hear them and that it would make a difference.

I started off in musical theater, but it was during my time at the Boston Conservatory that I was encouraged to explore opera. That encouragement opened an entirely new path for me—one that felt both challenging and deeply right. I continued my studies at Mannes School of Music, where I had the privilege of learning from some truly incredible mentors. I am so lucky to have had the guidance and support of teachers like Arthur Levy, Cristina Stanescu, and Kathryn Wright. They not only taught me technique—they believed in my voice before I fully believed in it myself.

Since then, I’ve had the opportunity to perform in Europe and throughout the Northeast, and I’ve been grateful for every single moment. My journey has never been linear, but it’s been full of discovery, growth, and joy. I carry my roots with me in everything I sing—from the karaoke mornings in the Philippines to the grand concert halls I now get to step into. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

I believe that I bring both technical excellence and emotional expressiveness to every venue—from grand opera halls to intimate recital spaces. I am a versatile, competition-winning soprano who can shine in both classical repertoire and new works, and for audiences eager for transformative musical experiences.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

For a long time, I believed there was a single, linear path to success: get into the most prestigious programs, follow the “right” steps, and eventually everything would fall into place. I thought that if I didn’t check off all the expected boxes—acceptances, accolades, the perfect resume—I wasn’t doing it right. But life has a way of challenging rigid beliefs.

I remember getting waitlisted from programs I had poured my heart into. These weren’t just rejections—they were moments that shook my confidence and made me question my path entirely. At times, I seriously considered quitting and settling for a more conventional job. I was disillusioned, especially seeing others land opportunities through expensive pay-to-sing programs that, to me, felt more transactional than merit-based. I didn’t want to pay thousands just to be seen.

But in those uncertain moments, I had to unlearn the idea that there’s only one route to “make it.” I realized that adaptability was more valuable than prestige. I started carving my own path—finding alternative gigs, collaborating with people who inspired me, and saying yes to opportunities that didn’t fit the mold but taught me more than any program could.

It’s still not always easy. But now I know that success isn’t about how closely I follow a script. It’s about staying open, staying flexible, and redefining what progress looks like on my own terms.

Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?

When I was sixteen, my world changed overnight. My father passed away unexpectedly, leaving my mother—a recent immigrant to the U.S.—to raise our family alone. With no savings and limited support, we found ourselves relying on Section 8 housing and visits to the local food bank just to get by. Life felt uncertain, and the dream I held onto—to become a singer—suddenly seemed out of reach.

But that’s when something extraordinary happened.

My voice teacher, who would later become a grandmother to me, saw more than just a struggling teenager—she saw potential. She gave me voice lessons for free when I could no longer afford them, and more importantly, she rallied an entire community in Bristol, Rhode Island to support me. Through her, people I had never met—like Mr. Vincent Buonanno, The Landay Family, The Szenher Family, MaryKae and Mike Wright, Natalie Urban—and truly the entire town of Bristol—stepped forward to sponsor my musical education.

Each summer, I would sing a recital in Bristol as a way to give back. Every performance became a thank-you letter in song, and year after year, their support continued. These individuals and the wider community became more than just sponsors—they became my extended family.

Even today, they still have my back. Their belief in me was a powerful reminder that it really does take a village to raise a child. My journey has taught me that resilience isn’t about going it alone—it’s about having the courage to keep going when others lift you up. I am incredibly lucky, and I carry that gratitude with me in every note I sing.

Contact Info:

• Website: yohjidaquio.com
• Instagram: queenyohjisivan
• Facebook: Yohji Cantar Daquio
• Youtube: Yohjicantardaquio

Image Credits
@alexsfotography