We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Kristiana Roemer a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Kristiana, thanks for joining us today. When did you first know you wanted to pursue a creative/artistic path professionally?

As a child, I used to assume that singing was something everyone did in their life, like talking and breathing. I was fortunate that my parents were always playing records and CDs at home or playing the piano and singing together with my sisters and me. I began writing little songs early on, too, so to me it had always been clear that music and creating would always be part of my life. To me, art in general is not something that is done, but rather it is something that is and accompanies life. I write, because it wants to be put on the page and I feel better for it. It’s a way of processing, a way of seeking an understanding and a transformation, a way of explaining the inexplicable, and a way of mirroring back some of the beauty and the struggle in the world and, by doing so, making life around us an even brighter, more comforting endeavor. I always knew that I wanted to make a living as a singer, but I never assumed that it would be in the cards for me. To this day, I never take it for granted. But since I can remember, I sought out every opportunity I could find to sing and, hopefully, find work as a singer. One night, as a teenager, I happened to see classical pianist, Alexander Kleonov, playing at a cocktail lounge and upon approaching him, I sang the tune Moon River with him. From then on, he became a musical mentor of mine and he invited me to come every weekend to sing, and I did. Once I was getting paid to sing my own gigs with him at venues around town, I felt really grateful – not only did I get to sing, but others wanted to pay to listen, too. And it all continued from there.

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.

Born in Germany, I grew up taking piano lessons and I sang in church and with a touring choir and later at venues around town. I moved to Paris not long after high school where I landed a nightly gig, enrolled at the conservatory (while completing an undergraduate degree in science), and began hosting a jam session and performing my own music with my band. I like to write poetry, too, and in many of my songs, the lyrics initially originated as poems before I put them to music. A few years later, I moved to Brooklyn where I continued my studies at Queens College and released my debut record House Of Mirrors of mostly original compositions on the New York jazz label Sunnyside Records. It received favorable mentions in Downbeat, All About Jazz, Jazziz, Jazz Weekly, Jazzthetik, and was included under the Top 20 releases of that year by ABC Jazz Australia. Now based between New York City and Paris, I have performed my music at venues such as Rockwood Music Hall, The Django, Cornelia Street Café, Sunside Paris, and the Blue Note Dresden, and held residencies at The Williamsburg Hotel, The Flatiron Room, Hotel Americano, and Aux Trois Mailletz Paris, among others. In addition to music, I have starred in several films such as the viral video Alone In Paris by Mathieu Stern and I will be appearing in Zara Kahan’s next feature film (production will wrap in 2024) as well as in Aadit Shah’s upcoming directorial debut, to name a few. Behind the camera, I wrote and co-led the music video to House Of Mirrors and have worked as music supervisor on various projects. Aside from music and film, I’ve performed my poetry with the collectives Inspired Word NYC, Brooklyn Voices, and SpokenWord Paris.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

You cannot avoid or run from yourself. You are constantly called to come home to yourself and attune to what it is you have to say. We all desire to witness and to be witnessed and it becomes about listening and not letting the world pass you by unnoticed. By witnessing the world, you witness yourself and by witnessing yourself, you witness the world. As I experience it, an artist cannot avoid this – not for very long, at least. And when I sit down at the page or at the instrument and I attune to the things that have been silently waiting inside and around me to be summoned, and I give them voice, I experience this as an act of creating a bridge, coming home, and showing up for myself and for others.

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

There are many forms and faces of resilience, but the question probably refers to resilience as an artist. I like to understand the word resilience in the sense of elasticity rather than merely a toughness and ability to withstand, the latter often suggesting a rigidness whereas the former describes the movement of taking a shape and entering a flow. My mom was dying when I was a young adult, barely having graduated high school. I had then just booked one of my first real performances and she told me that even if she didn’t make it until the end of the week, it should not keep me from singing, but the contrary. She didn’t make it. And after witnessing her passing, just as she hoped that I would, I sang. I sang again the day before and the day after her funeral. I know that she was sitting in the audience there with me. I sang. I cried, too. And I sang. And I knew I always would as I always had. I don’t care for the word resilience that much, unless it comes from a place of devotion to something or someone else, beyond a mere act of self-preservation. Many years later, as an established working singer, some experiences with some people within the music industry had me considering leaving the profession. I would never have abandoned art and creating, but I considered going silent and keeping it only to myself. But you always find a seeking, grateful ear to your music, or it finds you, and the music wants to be shared. Art is a multi-way street. Art never leaves you, or if it does, it’s bound to take a piece of you with it that you will always seek to get back. To me, resilience as an artist means to accept this and to continuously lean into that place of devotion, and I experience that as a really beautiful thing.

Contact Info:

• Website: www.kristianaroemermusic.com
• Instagram: www.instagram.com/kristianaroemer
• Facebook: www.facebook.com/kristianaroemer
• Other: www.imdb.com/name/nm6817143

Image Credits
Christopher Drukker