Things That Matter to...Arya

The second profile in our series on Venezuelan Diaspora Music, we are delighted to present a true rising star; Italo-Venezuelan singer/songwriter Arya. Daughter of Orlando Watussi, a well-known Venezuelan salsa singer, Arya grew up in Milan and started singing lessons with Professor Andrea Tosoni, whilst often travelling to Venezuela. At the end of 2018, she released her first single, 'A Distant Night' followed by 'Blossoms' in 2019. With her warm, smooth voice and introspective lyrics, Arya freely moves between nu soul and rap, hip hop and R'n'B and is definitely one to watch. She has just released her debut album is available now.

by Amaranta Wright

My first memory is in one of our countless trips by car, and my father teaching me to hear the “clave”, the basis of salsa music. Not to count, but to feel. At that moment something clicked in me

From my mother I’ve inherited her strong will and determination and from my father, his the love for music. He has always pushed me to see things from a different perspective, to ask myself questions and look for the answers; to be different and to cherish what I have.

I was born in Milan but my dad was a well known Venezuelan singer. I used to travel with my dad who was a singer, in Europe and South America. To be honest, I've never felt completely at home in Milan, I still find it difficult to understand why.

I was jealous of my cousins, aunts and uncles for knowing my grandma more than I did, for being able to spend with her the last few days of her life. I think I'll always carry that share of regret with me. It’s been more and more difficult to go back, both for the price of the tickets and the political and economical instability of the country.

My teenage years were ruled by pop icons, like Beyoncé. I remember listening to “Me, Myself and I” in my room and vibing to it: it has been my personal hymn for a long long time.

I was more than ripe when I started writing music in my late teens. I knew by then that music is nothing like a competition, I don’t feel crushed by other artists success, there is no race, each one of us has our own path and our own speed.

As much as I deny it, I’m drawn towards pain more than happiness. My favourite book is “A little life” by Hanya Yanagihara is about bonds, love, overcoming obstacles but most of all pain. Whenever I feel like I’m not ok, this book helps me downsize my pain and refocus.

I always get emotional when I hear Lester’s monologue at the end of the film “American Beauty.” Everytime I see it I get something more, a little hint I hadn’t noticed the last time, something that makes me want to go out in the world and experience all of it.

Writing music is like therapy and it’s free. I can express myself freely, connect to others when I’m performing, and tell my story. When I’m gone, there’ll be some trace of me out in the world and I like that idea

When I feel the beat, not just listen to it: this most surely comes from my Venezuelan roots and my heritage. When I write music I put alot of emphasis on rhythm, melodies and harmonies.

The best piece of advice I’ve been given is “You don’t own anything, not even your own life.” My dad told me this. It helped build up my belief that everything is temporary and to be grateful and look after what I have, because they do not belong to me.

I struggle to conquer the little Arya that lives inside of my head and judges every step I take. Sometimes I acheive peace of mind and I think I will never let it go, then I lose it, then I rediscover it in other forms. It is a continuous game of joints and balances, and in the end living is learning to be a balance between eternity and oblivion.