Indie Artist and Producer Illicit Ghost on Music as a Guiding Lifeline

The musician, songwriter and producer shares how songs travel faster than light through life’s dark tunnels

 Written by Lisa Battles

New York native, multi-instrumentalist, songwriter and producer Illicit Ghost made the move to Nashville in 2022. It was a bold decision to move to a new city with no established support network, much less amid a global pandemic, perhaps more acutely daring for someone who’s tackled mental health challenges throughout life.

While she says the pandemic was the primary reason she chose to leave New York, the allure of music was also important. While some see a guiding light at the end of a tunnel, for her, it’s always been songs.

By then, she also had a few friends along for the journey – lessons learned through her instruments of violin, clarinet, piano and guitar – and the voice she’s developed through them all. For the past seven years, she’s been using that voice to guide others facing similar struggles.

Early expression through music

For Illicit Ghost, violin lessons began at age 3, opening the door to expression through music at the same time young children typically begin developing sophisticated verbal communication. While she took to both, the latter felt more natural, and she also picked up the clarinet in her middle school and high school years.

“The anxiety piece has always been there for me in school. When I was growing up, I remember sitting there and just shaking because I was afraid that the teacher was going to call on me. And that happened throughout college as well. If they did call on me, I didn’t feel comfortable speaking,” she says. “And then at the parent-teacher conferences, every teacher would be like, ‘Oh, she doesn’t participate and she’s too quiet.’ On the inside, it was like this war in my mind with all these racing thoughts and being on loop and then all this anxiety, just having to be around other people for so long during the day and just feeling uncomfortable.”

Meanwhile, she was always listening, mostly to music, whether it was what she produced, music made by others or her internal voice. When it all became too noisy, her actual voice would emerge, humming along to the music of the times, usually under blankets so her parents wouldn’t catch her listening to music they deemed inappropriate.

As a teen, songs by Third Eye Blind and Alanis Morissette resonated for different reasons. Eventually, she found yet another musical instrument to carry those thoughts and her voice from beneath her blankets: the piano.

Pulling back the covers

When her parents bought a baby grand piano when she was 14, she taught herself to play it, singing softly to herself. She says that was the start of her songwriting, and it also coincided with her first awareness of having mental health issues.

“I remember having these thoughts that would just be on a loop in my mind, and I thought it was normal. I didn’t know what was happening, so I just kind of pushed it down. Later, I would find out that that was OCD, the obsessive thinking, compulsions and doing things that would prevent something bad from happening,” she says.

Although mental health awareness has come a long way now, the silence surrounding it at this time of her life made it incredibly difficult to speak up about what was going on, she says. Songwriting on the piano provided a more comfortable form of expression.

When it was time to go to college, she chose to continue playing in the orchestra with the violin and the band with the clarinet, while not pursuing a major in music. By then, music had become her preferred communication style, and she did not want to compromise that touchstone.

“My heart was always in music, and I didn’t make it my major in college because I loved it too much and didn’t want to ruin it,” she says.

Instruments opening up a voice

After finishing her studies, she continued making music and playing shows. While still a reserved person, when it came to music, her extroverted side appeared in full force.

“I started to take songwriting a lot more seriously around age 24 and began writing songs, performing at open mics in New York City, playing violin with a backing track, and all these different bars pretty much three or four times a week at night. It was intense and competitive, but it was fun. That’s where I honed my performance skills and got more comfortable singing in front of people and playing. And making those connections in the community was vital for me,” she says.

The experience revealed a desire to learn about producing music, so she started contacting people whom she admired locally, asking for help and advice on what to do next. Again, bold, for a “quiet girl,” and those connections pointed her to Ableton software to learn and refine her production skills.

By 2018, she began releasing original music via her social media channels, starting with “Drunk and Alone,” written and produced during a huge snowstorm when she was trapped inside in Brooklyn. The song just came to her, she says, with lyrics focusing on the duality of both accepting and dismissing someone’s words while seeking solitude and inner peace. When she saw her music resonate, she began releasing several more tracks, including “Rabbit Hole,” which explores quiet struggles beneath the surface; “Weekend Warrior,” which leans into fleeting escape; and “Wide Open,” about wanting a connection where nothing is hidden. Another, “Help,” examines how difficult it can be to ask for support when you’re struggling internally. Acknowledging that struggle in herself and wanting to help others was one big reason she launched an Instagram Live series in 2020, called “Anti-Anxiety Hour.”

“When I was in school, not wanting to speak up, not wanting to be called on, it completely disappeared when I started performing. I don’t know why. Once I get on stage and I’m singing, it’s like I’m in this different world. I feel free. And I can feel people looking at me, but in some weird way, I’m okay with it,” she says. “Maybe part of that is because I know that I’m speaking from my soul and trying to get messages across that are important to me and maybe important to other people. And it just goes back to wanting to help people.”

Emitting song signals

Illicit Ghost has released several singles over the past seven years, focusing on emotional strength and combating inner struggles. While the dark moments of mental health issues can be an equalizer, what sets some people apart is how they’re equipped to get through them.

For Illicit Ghost, lessons learned through violin (patience), clarinet (breathing) and piano (opening up and singing) have been critical, she says. She also wants to hold a light at the end of a tunnel for others by sharing her story and what keeps her going.

“Music has taught me so much in life and has given me so many skills that I’ve been able to transfer over to my professional career, not only in music, just having that drive and being persistent. Mental health has always been really important to me,” she says.  “Anyone else struggling isn’t alone. Just getting out of bed in the morning is the hardest part. If you can do that, you’re winning.”

“Yes, it is very hard for me to create when I am low, but finding that drive, even if there’s just a little bit inside, and just picking up the guitar or playing the piano is super helpful. I know [melancholy in music] has been romanticized, but it’s real for a lot of people. And channeling it into art for me has been lifesaving.”

Pianist Lara Downes on charting new dimensions

The acclaimed artist shares how a search for self-identity led to amplifying the voices of others

Written by Lisa Battles

Pianist Lara Downes holds a place, places even, that few classical musicians occupy today. Her approach to life and work is akin to quantum mechanics, with subtle interconnections, strength in duality, embraceable uncertainties and powerful outcomes.

While she doesn’t describe it this way, her music and career yield evidence that her lens of discovery, both of herself and others, is inherent and difficult to measure.

Multifaceted musical presence

Downes’ presence is like a play of light across media, venues, organizations, genres and audiences, with NBC News calling her “a musical ray of hope” and other critics praising her for pushing music forward while breaking down conventional perceptions about classical music, its place in history and those who create it.

She takes on historic scores and newer compositions, blending genres and delivery to reach people far beyond concert halls.

Named NPR’s 2022 Classical Woman of the Year, she herself created and hosts the hugely popular NPR video series  “Amplify With Lara Downes.” She’s topped Billboard charts as a recording artist. Meanwhile, she continues a steady stream of live performances with orchestras from Philadelphia to Los Angeles,  and on stages from New York’s Lincoln Center to Berkeley’s Cal Performances. Currently, she’s one year into a three-year appointment as the Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra’s first Creative Partner.

Downes has even been a “New York Times” crossword clue. That fact is near the top of her bio, an accomplishment that speaks to her passion for connecting classical music to as many people as possible, far beyond the concert hall.

Uncovering her own story

The internal drive to write that personal story has always been at the heart of what she’s accomplished and still aims to achieve. With a markedly nontraditional background, there’s been much to uncover, she says.

As one of three daughters to a scientist father of Jamaican descent who grew up in Harlem and a mother who was a lawyer and “Jewish girl from Akron, Ohio,” Downes and her siblings all began piano lessons as soon as they could play in San Francisco. Their parents chose to raise and homeschool them there, perhaps “trying something utopian,” she says. Her father died when she was a preteen, and eventually her mother chose to move the family to Europe, where Downes stayed for seven years.

There, Downes says, “Growing up was a weird, homeschooled music bubble and for so many reasons, I just didn’t think about it. And then in Europe, a lot of things made sense and connected themselves again, via the pathway of music. There was that tradition that is real there – present and important. Just meeting so many other young people for whom this was the center of the universe was very grounding and comforting in so many ways. But on the other hand, we were also always ‘the American girls.’ So when I came back here [at age 21], it was just time to break away from my family and figure some things out. And I realized that I had a lot of things to figure out, and I had no idea what it meant to function in this country, either personally or artistically.”

Embracing unexpected advantages

When Downes arrived in the U.S., she began exploring American musical traditions to uncover her heritage and find her place within them. The journey has forged a career that blends her diverse experiences while bringing what she’s discovered to new audiences. In considering how nonlinear her approach has been, she reflected on how her homeschooling had felt like “unschooling.”

“It was not very structured at all. I had learned from the age of five or six just to find a book if you wanted to know something. Nobody was feeding information to me. So my journey into American music was very much like, ‘I need to go out and figure out where this stuff is,’” Downes says.

At times, she grappled with not having a conservatory network like most of her peers, while appreciating that her experience and curiosity led to unique opportunities that may not have presented themselves otherwise.

“There’s something really strange about not knowing, not having the experience that most people have of curriculum and structure and linear pathways in learning. If you don’t have that, you also don’t know what other people don’t know. So it’s like everything is new. It was like being an alien who had just gotten here,” Downes says.

Changing perceptions about classical music

Her process led to a major shift when she finally discovered the history of women and people of color in the classical music tradition. While her work in this space has brought recognition for resurfacing lesser-known musicians and forgotten compositions, she is emphatic about framing that experience accurately.

First and foremost, it was a search for identity and discovering how she fit into the picture of classical music throughout history. She says it was also a pure search for history and sound versus a tidy fit into a social justice category, which was not her primary intent.

“And then it did become an understanding that if this music exists and it speaks to me in this way, then think about all the other people that it speaks to because it can crash through those barriers of [thinking that] classical music is boring, old, dead, white and for rich people. Look at all these people who’ve been part of it,” Downes says. “But it had nothing to do with solving racism in America. I’m feeling so urgently the need to be really clear about that. It’s a privilege that I’ve found this music, that I’m able to share it, and that more people know it. It’s not that I’m doing this music any favors … I just think that music is vitally important [and] it’s not right that everyone doesn’t get to experience it if they want to.”

Reframing values through voices

Her latest initiative, The Declaration Project, commemorates America’s upcoming 250th anniversary through spoken, written and musical storytelling about the foundational concepts of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. The project encourages individuals from all walks of life to reinterpret these ideals from their perspectives, moving beyond historical narratives to envision a collective future.

Through regional residencies and workshops and the project’s website, Downes is gathering and compiling submissions into a national digital archive with stories featured in a video installation that will accompany her multimedia concert, DECLARATION, premiering in New York in July 2026, and featuring new works for piano and orchestra by Grammy Award-winning composers Valerie Coleman, Arturo O’Farrill and Christopher Tin. Each composition will be a contemporary musical exploration of one of the three principles.

The project embodies the kind of work Downes sees as most valuable because it can be catalytic for reflection, dialogue and transformation.

“I really feel so clearly and deeply the role that music can play in opening up dialogue in all the places where I go and among all the people that I meet. And the more evident it is how completely impossible that is in most arenas, I try to make the most of that superpower,” Downes says. “There is no piece of music that doesn’t touch on one or two or all three of those concepts. So the project is meant to mark this moment in time, but I think more it’s meant as a pathway, again, for me just to get out there and find ways to create conversation and communication that is otherwise really hard to come by. I think probably the worst problem we have is the inability to just listen to other people and other perspectives. So I love it. I mean, it’s turning into something so massive that it’s taking on new dimensions every day.”

Radiating Warmth: José Sibaja on transcending fundamentals and formalities to keep music alive

Written by Lisa Battles

Warmth radiates through every part of acclaimed trumpet player José Sibaja, from his music to his mindset. Rooted deeply in his Latin American heritage and with decades of rich experience, he champions humanity, humility and humor.

An 18-year member of Boston Brass, the Costa Rica-born Sibaja has played as an international soloist with many major symphony orchestras and wind ensembles, teaches master classes worldwide and is an associate professor at Blair School of Music in Nashville, Tennessee.

Training the ear and mind

While Sibaja instructs students on fundamentals, he says his greater goal is to show how mastering them is the starting point for greater possibilities in their artistry and life.

“We’re going to be as good as we are able to hear, and I think that also applies to life. We’re going to be as wise and empathetic as we’re able to hear and listen to others,” he says.

Deep values for inclusion and accessibility form the core of Sibaja’s philosophy, driving his approach to make music more relatable, human and open. He believes music loses its magic when it becomes elitist or detached from everyday people and was always meant to transcend cultures and socioeconomic status.

“Music has always been created and played for celebration or communication. We made it serious … Music didn’t start happening in the music hall. We did that. Music was always either a song or a dance. You were trying to enamor somebody or celebrate the fact that you were with people, together,” Sibaja says. “And then to go way earlier, when we had only singing and percussive noises, those were used to communicate between tribes. We were the ones who made it serious with all our expectations in life.”

“The word ‘expectation’ in my life is very important. I try to keep my hopes really big but my expectations low with everything. So I think that gives me an edge on being relaxed. In my opinion, expectation is the number one enemy of a healthy relationship, be it humanly or musically.”

This idea permeates everything Sibaja does. Whether he’s in a concert hall, an intimate gathering or teaching a class, he aims to resonate with people in ways that connect them to a greater awareness of being, no matter their background.

Early life influences in Latin America

Sibaja says his experience growing up in Costa Rica and early adulthood in Miami and Venezuela shaped his perspectives on music and how it resonates across different cultures and classes of society.

“I am a true believer that music is made for inclusion and for unity,” he says.

It all began for him at age 13, when he fell in love with the trumpet sound in the Latin music that filled his childhood home. He picked up the instrument and started his training at the Youth Program of the National Symphony Orchestra in Costa Rica. Eventually, he earned a scholarship to the University of Miami to study classical music. He pursued his studies there for two years before taking the opportunity to become the principal trumpet player in the National Symphony Orchestra of Venezuela.

He stayed with the orchestra for two and a half years before venturing more into commercial music and recording, which took him to New York for a while. Then December rolled around.

“I was recording a really late-night session in Manhattan. I went down to the subway, and it was two in the morning. The train was late. I was freezing. Right then, I made the decision that was not for me. I had to go back to Miami,” Sibaja says.

Another important factor in his decision to return was mentor and professor Gil Johnson at the University of Miami.

“He helped me understand how important your work ethic is, not only for music, but just in general in life, and if I accomplish anything, or not. I am blessed that way a lot because of him. Not only musically speaking, he really took me under his wing and shaped me literally to have a work ethic,” Sibaja says. “Talent is nothing. You can be the most talented person in the world, but if you don’t work, nothing happens.”

Dancing between classical and commercial worlds

Back in Miami, Sibaja got to work, re-entered school, picked up recording projects, played principal in the Miami Symphony and the Palm Beach Orchestra, and took on some commercial music work. Local connections led him to Ricky Martin, whose band he joined at around age 24.

Off he went touring the world for about a decade, while also recording with Martin and other famous Latin artists, including Alejandro Sanz, Gloria Estefan, Celia Cruz, Luis Enrique, Rey Ruiz, Marc Antony and more.

During this time, Sibaja did a stint with Dallas Brass, a quintet experience that piqued his interest when he learned of an opportunity with Boston Brass. He auditioned, won the spot and has been with the group ever since, touring and supporting its mission to perform great music while also “leaving a footprint” wherever it goes, Sibaja says.

Dancing between the classical and commercial music worlds was not something he imagined for himself in the first few years of learning his instrument, he says. His mental shift about it happened around age 16, when he attended a concert by Mexican artist Luis Miguel.

“Until then, all I wanted to hear was classical music. A friend of mine invited me to go, and I didn’t want him to go alone. I wasn’t into it [but] once I got in there and the band started playing, I was like, ‘Whoa, whoa, wait, wait, wait! There’s more to this dude than I thought there was going to be!’” Sibaja says.  “And then, of course, he’s one of the most incredible singers you’ll ever hear in your life, and the band was sounding great. That day, my perspective on music changed. I was really happy.”

Another amazing influence on his early non-classical musical discoveries was the Cuban band “Irakere” and one of his trumpet heroes, Arturo Sandoval.

“Music with that much soul and honesty is an experience hard to recreate, but immensely rewarding and transformative. When I first heard Arturo play, I was in awe and didn’t know you could do that with a trumpet. The fact that he played the trumpet like that, that he spoke the same language I spoke, and that he came from a small Latin American country, was a big boost of inspiration, hope and energy for me as a young musician.”

Discovering both artists taught him huge lessons about not boxing in or stereotyping oneself or others, and how suspending that kind of judgment can lead to satisfying personal discoveries and uniting people, he says.

Passing along a mindset

Even with a relentless work ethic, Sibaja prizes authenticity over perfection, doesn’t take himself too seriously, and strives to pass those values to others through his teaching opportunities.

“Music has to be sincere. We are not here to be perfect, and nobody’s perfect. So if my aim is to be perfect, I am missing the point, and my music becomes stiff and contained. I want to be as human as possible with music. If I make mistakes, as long as people are enjoying themselves and having a good time, it’s OK.  I think that’s our job. That’s the most important thing to me,” he says. “And I want to bring that to students, [the knowing] that they have a license to make a mistake. When we give freedom to our minds, the way we perform improves dramatically, and we start being ourselves. In my opinion, that’s what you need in music.”

When asked what gets him up in the morning, Sibaja’s answer is simple: the blessing of being able to make music. As for what helps him sleep well at night, it’s his commitment to how he goes about it.

“I just want to be remembered as a fun person. That’s it. Hopefully, I can contribute something positive to your life. If I happen to play the trumpet a certain way and you remember that, that’s great. I would love it if when people think of me, it brings a smile to their faces,” Sibaja says. “To me, that’s much more important or transcendental than people thinking that I was smart or I was a virtuoso or if I was this or I was that … It’s a lot about respect, respecting others, respecting people and staying true to who you are.”

Elena Bonomo on finding delight in infinite possibilities

The Broadway drummer tells how curiosity and versatility have helped chart her course

Written by Lisa Battles

Elena Bonomo says it’s a meditative moment when she takes command of the beat eight shows weekly as the drummer for Broadway’s Tony-award winning musical, SIX.

The setting wouldn’t give just anyone a sense of ease. The band is part of the onstage cast for the high-energy, pop-rock show. After playing her dream gig for almost four years, Bonomo says the show’s music has become “part of her body,” yet she still fully embraces her role within the show’s dynamic in new and different ways.

In her mindset, there’s always something to learn or discover, and that philosophy brought her to this stage – on Broadway and throughout life.

Early keys to curiosity

As a young child growing up an hour outside of the city, Bonomo spent many hours sitting next to her grandmother, watching her play the piano. She specifically requested it during their time together, loved seeing the joy it brought and benefited from some early lessons.

While time at the piano with her grandmother sparked her love of music, Bonomo also discovered the drums around that time, thanks to a few other relatives who played. With some help from her uncle,  she was hooked after a couple of lessons. Her parents heard her pleas for a set of her own, which she got for Christmas at around age 9.

Bonomo began private lessons and played in the middle and high school bands. But it wasn’t until playing in her school musicals that she first felt the pull toward musical theater. “I realized, ‘Yeah, this is what I want to do for a living,’” she says.

Feeding a love for versatility

When considering college, Bonomo sought a program to help her develop her skills across musical styles.

“A lot of schools are very classical-oriented or very jazz-oriented, and I knew at that time that I loved playing all styles of music. I loved rock and funk and Latin music and even the possibility of Broadway, which can sometimes be every single style of music combined into one show,” she says.

She says she chose Berklee College of Music because “they weren’t so focused on just one style.”

She was also ready to experience life in a new place. Beyond that, some of her favorite artists had attended Berklee, like John Mayer and Terri Lyne Carrington, the latter of whom she got to study with at school, along with Neal Smith, Bob Gullotti and Jamey Haddad.

After college, Bonomo joined the Boston-based Americana folk band, The Novel Ideas, for two U.S. tours. That meant five people squeezed into an unreliable van with little money to cover lodging, yet innumerable treasures in seeing new places, making friends and having fun, she says.

“It was an amazing experience because it was my first time touring around the country. Before that, I hadn’t seen too much. With this band in our little van, we got to see the U.S. and play different types of venues,” Bonomo says.

After developing a love for travel with this first post-college gig, Bonomo revisited the idea of working on cruise ships after auditioning back in school. She landed a gig with Holland America Line and set sail on new adventures.

Taking in the world of sights and songs

Bonomo played on cruise ships and saw more places she’d never thought she would, like Australia, New Zealand, Greece and Fiji. Guest entertainers would fly to meet the ship, rehearse with the house band and deliver shows together.

“Every night was different. It trained me to be the working musician I am today in New York because I was sight reading music, playing with different artists every night, playing along with a click track, using in-ear monitors and playing along in a real show with actors. All of that was such a great way to prepare me,” Bonomo says.

Between cruise contracts, she’d return home, play community theater locally and visit the city frequently to work and network. She played with singer-songwriters and wedding bands, did workshops for new shows and picked up some opportunities subbing for other musicians on several shows.

“Somebody once said to me, ‘When you first get out of school, just say yes to everything. You never know where your next opportunity is going to come from.’ So even with the smaller shows, I was like, ‘Yes, absolutely. This sounds fun. It’s more experience,’” she says.

The power of mentorship

Bonomo credits many people and mentors who recognized her passion and facilitated connections along her path. After all, you have to have the question to answer “yes.”

“Sometimes it’s luck; sometimes it’s the stars aligning. But I don’t think the stars are going to align for you unless you put yourself out there and you make yourself open to receive these opportunities. It’s all about putting out your energy into the universe and then you’ll get it back,” Bonomo says.

Being so close to Broadway helped. Her high school choir accompanist had a career on Broadway and introduced her to drummers Larry Lelli and John Redsecker. Bonomo contacted them and asked if she could shadow as they played a couple of shows, and they both agreed.

She and Lelli reconnected when he did a clinic for Berklee’s percussion department, and they stayed in touch. When Lelli needed subs for Cagney, an off-Broadway show he had been working on, he called Bonomo. That gig opened doors, and soon after, she got the call to sub for Waitress, marking her Broadway debut.

“I was ecstatic. It felt like everything I’d worked for was finally paying off,” she recalls.

After that, she was offered the Waitress National Tour, so off she went for a year around the country.

Dynamism and consistency

With SIX, Bonomo says that establishing the comfort with the show over the past several years has allowed her to channel different things into her performances and tune into the nuances of interaction between people on the stage and in the seats. Show after show, she still loves the show’s groove-based, pop-rock drumming and being on stage.

“It’s just so much fun to actually be part of the show and be able to interact with the rest of my band members and the queens and see the audience every night. They laugh at different things all the time,” Bonomo says.

Meanwhile, she keeps her calendar full and skills sharp with other gigs, saying “yes” to all she can manage “just for the variety.”

“Something that I feel like I can always relate to is that I’m a forever student. I’m constantly learning and growing as a musician, and I need that in my life to feel healthy and keep me on my toes,” Bonomo says.

Taking care of the music

An important principle of lifelong learning is giving back by empowering others to learn, too. Bonomo teaches privately and mentors through Maestra Music, an organization that connects mentees age 18 and older pursuing music careers in theatre with professional women and nonbinary mentors working in the industry.

“Every day that I’m playing the drums, I feel so lucky. I feel so grateful to say that I get to do what I love. That’s because I had other people to look up to as a kid … not only just to look up to but people who offered guidance and showed that they cared about helping me – someone brand new to the scene that they didn’t know,” she says. “If I didn’t have that, maybe I wouldn’t have broken into the Broadway world. Maybe I wouldn’t have become a musician. It just takes one person to change somebody’s life.”