In this interview spotlight, I spend time with Jarmila Gorna to discuss her Escape release, dream collabs, first musical memories, and much more.

Sit back, relax, click play, and enjoy the read (and images)!

Full Q&A along with links and music below.

Let’s get this hot topic out of the way from the start. What are your feelings on AI as a creative tool? Have you experimented with it? Or released any projects where it was used?

It’s a massive subject! [smile] Let’s start with a ‘Watch this space.’ We are in the baby-steps of a new era. My futuristic thinking often takes me to incredible places and I think that it can be potentially used in many brilliant ways. But I always come back to one question: Would you really be happy falling in love with ‘someone unreal’?

Some might find a thrill in that, but I subscribe to Joseph Campbell’s ‘Hero’s Journey.’ To me, the real ‘thrill’ is a human story of hardship, hope, and overcoming obstacles—not a song spat out by a machine in seconds. 

I am also concerned about the so-called ‘AI artists’ outcompeting human creators in streaming and copyright etc.

But yes, I do love the idea of AI as a partner. Not a creator. I’m all for the hybrid partnership I call HUMAI (Hum-AI)—where the human soul remains the architect.

What is your earliest music memory? Or a moment that sticks out for motivating you to write, record, and release music?

Hmm… Challenging question for a person who hardly listens to any music at all these days! [laughs]. And not just lately, but for decades. However, my formative musical moments happened in the… embryonic stage. My mother (of blessed memory) was an opera singer at the National Opera House in Lodz, Poland. I was surrounded by multi-layered choir harmonies and orchestral arrangements from the very start—literally until a few hours before I was born! To this day, I hear music as architectural stacks of complex, harmonised vocals and intertwined melodies. There isn’t just a melody only in my ears. 

What motivates me? It is a true mystery to me. To me, music is such an incredible enigma. As an educator, I often struggle to explain to my students what happens when that mysterious creative ‘input’ suddenly makes itself known to me. And before I realize it, it overtakes my whole earthly existence. It forces me to obsess over my new creation until I am able to give it shape, to channel it, and give it its final form and sound. When that sort of magic happens, you know that it is your serious duty to put it out—to do your utmost to give it back to the world. I don’t feel motivated; it’s more like I’m driven. But the source of that drive remains shrouded in mystery to me. It’s very exciting to have a little dance with that powerful visitor and allow it to make me a channel for communicating those creative ideas it is so generously pouring through me. I don’t know how better to describe it. I’m very grateful.

What’s up with this latest release? Any cool back-stories, bloopers, or notable inspirations?

I love your penetrating questions! [a little laugh]. There certainly is a story. And what a story! Let’s give it a title: ‘Cymraeg [Welsh] Magicians of Snowdonia really do exist!’ [laughter].

There are a lot of ‘I don’t knows’ in my story, so please bear with me. I love visiting Wales. I don’t know why. Just for its landscapes? Not only. Every time we pass the border with England—as the narrow, meandering roads force our car to perform gymnastics of navigation—the feeling changes with every turn, every visible hill, and every sheep grazing on their near-emerald pastures. We start to touch that indescribable ‘magic’ of Cymru (Wales).

A couple of years ago, we went on a guided tour through the slate mine of Llechwedd, near Blaenau Ffestiniog, in Snowdonia. 

Until then, we had only toured Mid and South Wales. It’s hard to believe, but we had never heard anyone speak Welsh in those regions. Suddenly, as our designated tour guide approached us, we heard him addressing a mother and daughter in the mine in the strangest-sounding language. My eyes lit with a spark. I remember exclaiming to my friend David Farren (ex-Bad Manners and author of phenomenal guitar parts on my tracks): ‘David! They do exist!’ (And I meant—the ‘real’ Welsh people!!).

I couldn’t contain my child-like excitement. But what was it about this intriguing language that prompted such a strong reaction? I just don’t know. Anyway… our guide took us on a tour of the mine, explaining the history of the slate industry and the hardship that the miners (including his own ancestors) experienced. Towns like Blaenau Ffestiniog and Porthmadog would not have existed if it weren’t for their slate mining industry. We chatted a lot with him and, as we moved through the narrow underground tunnels and watched cavities exploded by dynamite to separate the precious slate from its mother rock, he realized that this had turned into the longest tour in the history of his work! At the end of it, he was singing Welsh folk songs to us and I was transfixed. I don’t know why.

We exchanged contact details and, after my return to London, I watched his Facebook streams, where he’d improvise new songs, play some old songs, and talk in a language I didn’t understand a word of—but that excited me so much! We were exchanging messages and he shared links to his previous work. I started to realize I was dealing with a very talented fully-fledged musician, multi-instrumentalist, music producer, artist, and poet. A sort of Welsh Renaissance polymath: Philip Lee Jones (aka Phil Lee Bran), founder of the influential Welsh band Gwibdaith Hen Frân, member of many others. The Voice of the Slate.

Then, just very organically, this idea of a song started to present itself to me. Every time I’m back in London from my voyages in Wales, I have this strange yearning to escape back to the green hills, the porcini mushrooms, and the fresh air of Snowdonia. My soul pines for that deep breath in my lungs. Back at my piano in London, something started to happen. The magic visitor was back—that creative, naughty goblin who would not accept ‘no’ for an answer, forcing me to obsess over what gradually became this huge new project. ‘Escape – Dihangfa’ was being born. 

I began to feel that this needed to be a love duet with Philip! And not just any duet, but a bilingual one. I realized I would be singing in Welsh very soon! I thought, ‘Wait a minute… is that even physically possible?’ The sounds coming out of Philip’s mouth in his streams were so unfamiliar to my ears; I watched him, mesmerized, trying to work out exactly what he was doing with his throat and embouchure to produce those perplexing sounds! Later, I learned that the ‘Gogledd Cymru’ (North Snowdonian) accent is particularly distinct—Welsh at its strongest! —and to my ear, it sounded excitingly exotic.

In the meantime, the first piano grooves and melody lines started to manifest. I perceived the structure as an ongoing dialogue between two characters: ‘Man’ and ‘Woman’. I presented Philip with my first sketches and asked if he would be willing to take on the part of the ‘Man’, as well as to adapt my English lyrics into Welsh so the song would be a 50/50 bilingual split.

Philip kindly agreed and our creative collaboration began. He recorded the Welsh parts to guide my pronunciation. I practiced for two weeks before I felt ready to capture my Welsh vocals in front of my precious Telefunken Copperhead microphone. It wasn’t just tongue-twisting; it was everything-twisting! [laughingly]. My mysterious dream was coming true. I was elated.

But there is another, rather poignant element to the story of the creation of ‘Escape – Dihangfa’. (By the way, dihangfameans escape in Welsh—perfectly reflecting the 50/50 English-Welsh bilingual structure). That deeper layer of all things is… Alzheimer’s disease!

Based on my own autobiographical experience, the song explores the vulnerability of finding mature love while living in the shadow of a genetic fear. Having watched both parents succumb to Alzheimer’s, the ‘Woman’ (myself) attempts to protect the ‘Man’ from a potential future of caregiving, hesitant to let him carry that weight. It’s as if she were ready to make a sacrifice—to let him, the love of her life, go, instead of one day potentially turning him into her carer and nurse. In a powerful, defiant response, the ‘Man’—voiced by Philip Lee Jones—affirms his devotion, choosing to embrace her entirely, regardless of what the future holds.

This dialogue is grounded by the powerful electric guitar of David Farren (Bad Manners) and the incredibly dynamic drums of Charlie St. Cyr-Paul (Bells 2 Go) from Orlando, Florida. A truly international collab!

To honour the weight of this story, I turned to Grammy-winner George Murphy (Mumford & Sons) to mix the song at Eastcote Studios. George was the assistant engineer of the late Philip Bagenal, founder of Eastcote Studios and my mentor in the world of sound engineering. I knew George from my visits to the studio during the process of working on my second album, Aspaklaria, when Philip Bagenal provided me with much guidance as to the direction of the mixes, which were handled at the time by Matt Lawrence from Miloko Studios.

I also had the pleasure of having the song mastered by Stuart Hawkes (Amy Winehouse) at Metropolis Studios. Stuart mastered my second album, Aspaklaria. He’s not only a brilliant mastering engineer but also a lovely person to work with.

I am the song’s producer. What I mean by that is that my role was to oversee the whole process from its creation to the final sound. This isn’t an easy process, especially because the way I hear music is apparently quite unusual. I have experienced this many times while working with various musicians and mixing engineers. When mixers hear the term ‘backing vocals’—or simply BVs in studio engineering jargon—they assume the role of those parts is just to add a little ‘colour’ and otherwise hide in the background of the wall of sound that constitutes the final sonic experience of the song.

In my head, however, those multi-layered harmonies and intricate voices assume a role almost equal to the LV (the lead vox). That’s the way I hear them. It’s as if they ought to be named ‘foreground vocals’ (FVS, why not?). Actually, I think next time I may even resort to this trick when providing the mixer with the stems, which I’ll call FVS instead of BVs! Yes!

So, it does take a little time before a mixer really ‘gets’ me on this particular detail. That’s just the way it is. Eventually, though, I did get to hear all my vocal stems treated truly expertly by George, and I couldn’t be happier with the sound of that mix. Brilliantly sounding, beautifully rich ‘electric guitar with attitude’ by David Farren! I love how David delivers his signature ‘singing’ and ‘commenting’ guitar riffs that are like a dialogue with the lead vocal. And that solo! Yum! And those fiery drums by our ‘Drum Monster’ [said with utmost respect], Charlie St. Cyr-Paul! Those cosmic drum rolls—ah! They just never fail to excite me, no matter how many times I hear the song. Pure pleasure!

This track is presented as a complete sensory experience. Following the audio release on 27 February, we debuted a dedicated lyric video to highlight the song’s themes of mystical love against the backdrop of Snowdonian landscapes. This had been followed by the official ‘Musicians in Action’ music video on 6 March. Both videos were created by the man of unbelievable imagination, the talented Tomasz Glodek from Poland, who has been the author of almost all my official music videos to date.

For the lyric video, I supplied Tomasz with footage shot by David Farren during our trips to Wales. It mainly features me performing a sort of ‘mystical dance’, which I called ‘Come Closer and Move Away,’ on the hills of Cymru. He turned it into magic. Interestingly, the London scenes from this video have been compared to the Paris scene in the film Inception. I am delighted with the final result.

’Escape – Dihangfa’ Official Lyric Video

Likewise, for the music video Escape – Dihangfa: Musicians in Action, we all filmed ourselves performing our parts in our respective home studios scattered across the globe: London, Snowdonia, and Orlando.

‘Escape – Dihangfa – Musicians in Action’ | Official Music Video

This visual rollout reflects my commitment as an independent artist to high-end, immersive storytelling. Last but certainly not least, to crown this entire creative journey, I have been rewarded with funding from The Michael Marks Charitable Trust for an accompanying documentary. It will be a sort of raw, intimate ‘visual diary’ produced and directed by myself, exploring the journey of love in the face of Alzheimer’s. I’d better be cracking on with it, as the deadline for the release is summer 2026! I think I’ll call it Love Through the Fog.

If you allow me, I’ll share some early critical reception with you. Early support has been exceptional and has highlighted the track’s unique emotional and sonic depth. John Cavanagh (Radio Six International) called the release ‘A Red-Letter Day for sure!’ Fortitude Magazine praised its ‘mystical, fable-like quality’ and its ability to take the listener on a ‘spiritual journey,’ while Find Your Sounds described it as a ‘transcendental bilingual love song’ where ‘transformative love remains unyielding at any age.’ Krzysztof Wieczorek wrote for Wolna Droga Magazine: ‘I don’t think it’s possible to fully describe this music. You have to experience it for yourself, just like a journey into the depths of the soul. It’s like being part of a sacred celebration, like a journey into a seductive, ethereal garden of sounds and colours; it’s also incredible, multi-layered vocal harmonies and enchanting wordless melodies.’  

What keeps you going, especially on the “bad” days?

Biohacking (sorry for this quasi-trendy word!) [laughs]. I have learned a bit about the role of various hormones and neurotransmitters. When the going gets tough and work is the last thing I want to do, I literally force myself to engage in some physical self-intervention, such as dancing or breathing exercises on the roof of the Georgian house where I live.

When what I really want to do is either cry, scream, or immerse myself in the oblivion of sleep, I grab my noise-cancelling headphones and the iPhone – I climb the ladder, open the hatch, and there I am—sun or rain—breathing fresh air, exposed to daylight or sunlight. Bruno Mars and Anderson .Paak’s Silk Sonic rules at that point as they go blasting loud in my headphones, while I dance away vigorously. It pulls me out of the rut of anxiety, unpredictability, or whatever else is causing that ‘rotten’ feeling in my belly. Sometimes it’s just simple physio exercises on my yoga mat in the studio; after an hour of those, I’m back to buzzing with positive energy.

Sleep hygiene is also super important to me. I mean, now that you know my story, can you imagine the paranoia I live with, dreading that potential ‘Alzheimer’s curse’? My cupboard is filled with various supplements, but you hear quite a lot these days about how proper sleep is the first port of call for those at risk of succumbing to dementia. A properly blacked-out bedroom, the silence of an anechoic chamber, and a minimum of 8 hours! In an ideal world… [sighs]

If you could collaborate with anyone – dead or alive, famous or unknown – who would it be and why?

That is a difficult question to answer! Honestly, rather than looking elsewhere, I would simply choose to do it all over again with the incredible team I have right now. I’d love to take this space to mention the wonderful musicians, engineers and the video creator who helped bring this vision to life.

When you have a ‘world-class’ sonic and visual landscape shaped by people who truly understand your architectural vision, that is the ultimate collaboration. I’m incredibly proud of what we’ve built together.

But! How about if I tell you who I would definitely not like to collaborate with—as the highest compliment towards this band: Angine de Poitrine. Everything about them. They are an ingenious antidote to the AI and fake music out there today. It isn’t easy to get me to listen to just any music, but these guys? I’m hooked. 

I know it’s hard…but favorite song (or artist) of all time? Or Top 3 if you can’t choose one…?

Johannes Brahms — his Second Piano Concerto in B-flat. Seriously. Since I first discovered it in my teens, I’ve been totally obsessed till this day. But! There is a caveat. I couldn’t listen to it very often. The same goes for Chopin’s sonatas, ballades or piano concertos. This music affects me so deeply, that I get into quite a state. Shivers, cries and exaltation. It takes a long time to then ‘reset’ and land back on planet Earth into something that resembles ‘normal functioning’. It almost feels like I must ‘protect’ myself from this music. It is so intense. 

Where’s the best place to connect with You?

Thank you for asking. I tend to be active mostly on Facebook and YouTube. I do have profiles on Instagram and X (formerly Twitter) as well. My music is distributed by Symphonic to most major platforms. Here are some handy links for you:

Official Website | Facebook | YouTube | Apple Music

I appreciate Your time. Any last thoughts before signing off?  

Yes. And this is important: a massive thank you for giving me the opportunity to speak about my inspirations and aspirations. I hope I haven’t bored your readers, and that I managed to perhaps inspire them in turn.