By Julia Radovich
Bianca Steck doesn’t chase meaning – she lets it come to her.
Her songs feel less like compositions and more like moments that linger – slow, soft, unfinished in the best way.
Raised in Barcelona, now living in Brussels, she moves between forms: architecture, melody, memory. Her debut album, The Joy of Coincidences, isn’t about explaining life — it’s about noticing it. The details that slip past most of us: the shift in light, a sentence overheard, the moment before feeling arrives.
In this conversation, Bianca reflects on writing music that arrives like a visitor, the power of not controlling everything, and why the quietest thoughts are often the ones that stay the longest.
Hi Bianca, how are you?
You’re one of those people who seem to be creating even in stillness – something happens around you, even when nothing is happening.
When did you first realize that music was your way of being in this world?
‘Nothing is happening’ are words that to me don’t make sense together; there is always something going on around and having a bigger or smaller impact on us.
I don’t think that there’s only one way, there are many ways, probably an unlimited number of them that cannot even be numbered; music was one of them even before I realised that I was in this world.
You live in Brussels now, but I know you’ve had other homes – Barcelona, maybe more.
Your music feels like it moves between places, but also between emotions. Where does your sound come from — geography, or feeling?
I don’t know where the sound comes from but emotion and place are definitely related. Our feelings are obviously altered by the space in which we are and our perception of a city or a landscape depends on our mood.
I must say, though, that dreaming is one of my favourite things to do in life and what dreaming allows one to do is to travel. Travelling with our minds, being able to be in a room in the midst of the city while writing about the quiet countryside. When this happens we can somehow detach from the place we’re in and that is a strong feeling.
First of all — congratulations on releasing your first album. That’s a truly beautiful moment.
The album is called The Joy of Coincidences.
Have there been any coincidences in your life that felt too precise to be random? Ones that somehow made it into your music?
Thank you.
I encounter so many coincidences that I forget about most of them, to be honest. I used to write them down but then realised that it was becoming a bit of an obsession… The album doesn’t mention any in particular. The idea behind the title of the album is that the joy that these small coincidences or encounters bring, gives some lightness into life, which sometimes can feel a bit heavy.
When you start writing – do ideas come on their own, or do you sit down and build the song like a piece of work? Are they more like surprises, or something you summon intentionally?
I never actively decide to write or plan it in a way that one would plan a meeting or something that they must do. Songs just come, like little creatures, almost as if they were independent of my being. It’s actually quite scary sometimes because most of the songs are written very quickly (I’m talking about the actual essence or skeleton of the song) almost as if they already existed.
I’ve been lucky to be with you on set – in Paris and in Belgium.
You move in front of the camera like the music is breathing through you.
What does being seen mean to you? And do you think a visual image can ever truly “hear” a song?
Also – for those discovering you now, where can they watch those videos? And what did you want them to feel when they do?
I must say that I prefer being behind a camera than in front of it.
I think that the visual part is important, it should speak to you, it should be beautiful and above all, fun to make – but the music should never depend on it. I like to see it as an independent artwork and that’s why I put trust in someone else for it – in this case, Romain Szuwalski, an incredibly talented person. We can’t all do everything and it’s also wonderful to collaborate with other artists.
If someone could only hear one song from your album – which one would you choose for them? And why that one?
Choosing one song is difficult as they all have something to say or bring to the realm of the album but I would maybe say ‘Strange Rooms’. The verses are a bit dark and when the chorus comes in everything opens up and has more light, some cheerfulness too. It’s rarely just one feeling, right? So I like that one same song expresses that.
You worked with other musicians, and the album has this rich, layered feeling to it.
What is it like to hear your own personal story grow into something orchestral – something larger than yourself?
I am extremely grateful to have such amazing musicians involved in my music. I write completely alone and hearing these raw compositions evolve through the interaction with other human beings is very special.
I still remember the first time I sang the songs while other instruments were playing at the same time (because when we recorded the album every instrument was recorded separately). We were filming a live session in a studio and I almost had tears in my eyes.
And when you’re not writing or singing — where are you? What brings you back to yourself?
I am probably working; detailing construction drawings for my job related to Architecture or drinking a coffee while daydreaming about nature. Maybe I’m also reading, lighting a candle or eating an apple.
A letter to your future self. What would you write?
Dear B,
I hope you’re still seeing beauty in the little things.
Album — The Joy of Coincidences