“I Love The Mystery: Macarena Carreño on Letting Songs Evolve”
Macarena moved from Chile to Halifax and just played the main stage at the Halifax Jazz Festival. This week she talks about what actually made this place start to feel like home.
Macarena Carreño Macarena Carreño performing Macarena Carreño performing Macarena Carreño performing Macarena Carreño Macarena Carreño performing
You grew up in Chile and have built a music community in Halifax. When did Canada stop feeling like the place you moved to and start feeling like home? Or is that still evolving?
I think it’s still evolving, but it’s interesting because Canada has never felt completely foreign to me. I grew up with a lot of music, literature, and movies from North America. I’ve listened to music in English since I was little—I even have videos of myself singing in English when I was five, even though I had no idea what I was saying! And I started writing songs in English when I was 14. So culturally, I think I’ve always felt somewhat connected.
Of course, when I first came to Canada, first to Toronto and then to Halifax, there was a bit of a shock. But when I moved to Halifax with my husband, who is also a musician, things started to feel really natural. He’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and he made so many friends here. His friends became my friends, my friends became his friends, and we’ve built this really nice community together.
I think the first year is always hard when you move somewhere new, and the second year starts to feel different. But one of the biggest moments for me was getting our apartment. The first week we arrived, I met my friend Nora, and she helped us find a place because she knew the person renting it. Once we had that apartment, we felt trusted. We felt like, okay, we can actually build a life here. We felt calm, peaceful, and at home. And I think that was when Halifax really started to feel like home.
Your posts are full of gratitude for the people around you. Band mates, collaborators, friends ... Who has quietly changed your creative journey in a way they’ll probably never realize?
I love that you noticed that, because gratitude is really central to how I see life. Even the name Mueres en el Mar is a reminder that everything eventually ends, so we should appreciate and make the most of what we have now.
I would say my mom, Pamela, and my aunt Sol have quietly influenced me the most. My mom taught me that I was always enough and always loved, and to look at the world with generosity. That really shaped the artist I want to be.
I love dark music, but when I create, I don’t want to stay in darkness. I want there to be hope. Artists like AURORA and Jónsi have also shown me how music can open your perspective and help you move through difficult things. That nurturing love and sense of hope is something I always want to bring into my music.
When you released Ocean Sound, you asked listeners what they felt instead of explaining what the song meant. That’s pretty brave. Do you enjoy letting people discover their own meaning, even if it’s completely different from what you intended?
I actually love when listeners create their own meaning. Growing up in Chile, before I understood English, I would listen to songs and imagine what they meant. I loved that mystery, and I still do.
Once you release a song, I feel like it stops belonging only to you. It becomes alive, connects with other people’s experiences, and can evolve beyond its original meaning.
For me, “Ocean Sound” is about the memory of people who were once very meaningful to you. You may not know who they are anymore, but somehow they still live inside you. They appear in dreams, memories, or things you create. At some point, they almost become more of a symbol in your mind than the actual person.
You’re about to step onto the Halifax Jazz Festival main stage! If you could go back and whisper one thing to the version of yourself who first dreamed of making music, what would you tell her?
Well, I’m actually getting off that stage now! Halifax Jazz Festival happened a few weeks ago, and it was such a meaningful moment for me, especially as a musician building a life here in Canada.
If I could go back to 15-year-old Maca, who was just starting to play guitar, I would simply tell her: you are capable. Back then, I thought being a musician was about having some special talent that you either had or didn’t. Now I understand that music is something you can learn, develop, and build a life around.
I would tell her to believe in herself a little more and take her dreams seriously, because she really can do this.
You share rehearsals almost as often as performances, which I love because it reminds people that the magic doesn’t just happen on stage. What’s one part of the creative process that deserves a little more appreciation?
I would say music production deserves so much more appreciation. I usually start a song with just guitar, melody, and lyrics, but production is what helps transform that initial idea into the world I imagined for the song.
It’s incredibly detailed work. I always compare it to building a Swiss watch because every instrument, sound, effect, and tiny decision has a purpose.
I’m very grateful for my producer, Bastián from Perro de Caza. I think a great producer needs to understand not only the song, but also the person behind it: where you’re coming from, what you’re trying to say, and what is beautiful about that particular song. Then you build everything around that core. It’s such a creative and meticulous process, and I have so much respect for the producers I’ve worked with.
You seem to have a gift for bringing people together. Is that something you’ve always had, or something music taught you?
I think music has given me a way to bring people together, but it’s not necessarily where I learned it. I learned that from people, especially my mom. She is incredibly empathetic and always tries to see the best in others. I’ve been lucky to find people like that throughout my life, and they inspire me to be that kind of person too.
When I moved to Canada, I knew almost nobody. But little by little, people welcomed us, helped us, and became our community. Music was always somewhere in that story. Through things like the Newcomers Choir and Mueres en el Mar, I’ve met people from Chile, Iran, Japan, India, Canada, and many other places.
So music is the tool, but community is the purpose. One of the core ideas behind Mueres en el Mar is “we’re all the same.” I want music to create spaces where we can recognize ourselves in each other, because everything feels a little better when we can experience it together.
Bonus Question: Outside of music, what keeps your curiosity alive? A hobby, a ritual, a favourite place, an obsession ... what’s quietly filling the creative well these days?
My obsessions are always changing. When I was 15, it was poetry. Then it was painting and filmmaking. Right now, I think I’m obsessed with taking care of the one house I’ll always live in: my body.
Yoga has become a big part of that. It’s meditation through movement, and strangely, that’s when so many of my creative ideas appear. Music videos, books, residencies, tours, visual art, completely weird ideas. Being present seems to open that door for me.
I’m also reading The Artist’s Way, which has made me think a lot about creativity beyond just making art. I’ve always been fascinated by philosophy and psychology too. So maybe my real obsession is understanding life: what matters, what’s inside of us, and how we can live more consciously. Yoga, meditation, art, and creative community are how I explore that.
Macarena’s music grew out of the same thing that made Halifax feel like home: people who showed up for her before she’d done anything to earn it. She talks about her community, her mom, and even her listeners the same way, as people she trusts to bring their own meaning to what she makes. That trust, more than any single song, is what she keeps building toward.
This series works because people keep pointing me toward the next great conversation. If someone’s creativity has been inspiring you lately, tell me who they are. I’d love to talk to them next.
Until next week, Christine
