Joanna Kuchta Talks Process, Poetry, and New Single Disappear

Joanna Kuchta is one of those artists you immediately know is operating on her own terms. Her debut single disappear has already stormed SoundCloud’s trending charts across the US and Europe, and it feels like the start of something much larger. Born in Poland and raised in Ireland, she grew up with a guitar in hand writing shoegaze tracks inspired by Deftones and My Bloody Valentine before shifting into electronic production influenced by Aphex Twin and Burial. The result is a raw and personal blend of techno, breakbeats, and glitch-pop layered under the haze of shoegaze-style vocals.

She describes her music as “soundtracking her world,” and listening to disappear it becomes clear how naturally her influences come together. What started with lo-fi sketches and experimental club sounds has evolved into a project with its own identity, marked by the industrial textures and dreamlike voice that run through her work. This is an artist who doesn’t hide the seams of her process but instead uses them to give her music an edge.

The interview below offers a closer look at how she approaches a creative life, her relationship with structure, and the habits that keep her inspired. From shooting spontaneous music videos on an iPhone 5s to moving across continents in pursuit of her vision, Joanna ⋆ ☆ lays out a way of living that keeps music and art inseparable from everyday life.

What does “creative life” mean to you beyond studio sessions?

To me, a creative life isn’t something separate from my daily life; it is my life. I’ve genuinely never known a version of myself that wasn’t making things. Before music, it was photography and visual art.

When I was little, I’d borrow my grandad’s old camera or use my dad’s camcorder and make my sister pose for photo shoots in front of garage doors or shopfronts in Poland. Looking back, it probably had this unintentional Soviet aesthetic that I still love and tap into, but I just loved capturing things and creating little worlds, even then.

That instinct has always stayed with me. At every stage of my life, creativity has been the lens I see the world through. I’ve been lucky enough to always work in creative fields — from doing visuals and direction for brands to now making music and DJing. Even when it’s not tied to work, I’m still doing it: posting mixes, sharing music I’ve found, exploring ideas just because I love to.

To me, creativity isn’t a separate thing I “do” — it’s a way of being. It’s how I connect with myself, process what’s around me, and stay present. It’s as essential as making food or going for a walk. It’s simply how I live, and I feel really grateful that my work and passions have always been so closely linked.

How do you structure your days to support that life?

Honestly, structure is probably the thing I struggle with most. I’ve never been a very rigid or routine-based person; I tend to move on instinct and feeling. Even when I’m in the studio, I rarely come in with a concrete plan. Usually it’s just a mood or a rough idea, and I explore it in the moment. I’m quite spontaneous, and I work best when things are fluid rather than overly mapped out.

That said, I am doing something creative pretty much every day — whether it’s music, visuals, photography, or collaborating with others. Some days are spent fully immersed in sound, others are more about visual storytelling or design. I think because I work across different mediums, my days often reflect that variety. It’s not always tidy or linear, but it’s always expressive.

My partner runs a creative studio too, so we often collaborate on projects together. Even if it’s not something that’s solely about my vision, I really enjoy contributing creatively to different types of work. Sometimes it’s nice to take myself out of the center and work on ideas that aren’t purely personal — it helps me grow and stay flexible.

So while I might not have the most structured schedule, I’m always creating. And maybe that’s something I still want to refine: finding more balance between spontaneity and consistency. But for now, I think the key for me is just staying creatively active and connected every single day.

What’s something you’ve added outside the studio that changed your music?

For me, reading — especially poetry — has been really important. It’s something I try to do every day, and it’s genuinely changed how I approach writing music. I often have very abstract thoughts or feelings that are hard to pin down with words, especially since I speak more than one language. Sometimes finding the right way to say something can be tricky — there are so many different ways of expressing an idea, and I can get a bit lost in translation.

Reading authors and poets I love — like Anne Sexton, Milan Kundera, and Sylvia Plath — always brings me back to that clarity. The way they use language is so rich and layered, and it inspires me to go deeper with my own writing. It helps me access more vocabulary, but more than that, it helps me feel language again — not just use it functionally.

How do you maintain creative energy when life gets busy?

For me, it’s about staying connected to the world around me: going out, having weird conversations with strangers, dancing all night, fully throwing myself into an experience. That kind of thing always recharges me. It gives me new energy and perspective, and usually sparks something creatively.

But honestly, I don’t usually struggle to feel creatively energized — especially because my partner, Rudy Grazziani, who is a creative director, an amazing artist, painter, and everything in between. Since the moment we met, we’ve been making things together constantly. Even when I feel a bit stuck or distracted, all it takes is a conversation with him. We’ll start talking about ideas, getting excited, throwing references around — and suddenly I’m back in it. He really knows how to bring out that spark in me, and creating together is one of the most fulfilling parts of my life.

Like with the music video for my body and my soft — that came together totally spontaneously. We were on our way to a party, but I’d been thinking about this overpass bridge that goes over the freeway, and I just had this feeling I wanted to shoot something there. I loved my outfit, it was nighttime, the energy was right. So I said, “let’s stop there first — we’ll only take an hour.”

I brought my stuff just in case, and once we were there, it looked amazing. We started taking photos, and I said, “fuck it, try recording me.” And we just kept going — idea after idea, feeding off each other. We ended up shooting a full music video on an iPhone 5s on the way to a night out.

I think moments like that remind me that creativity doesn’t need a big setup or a perfect plan — it just needs a spark. And for me, those sparks are everywhere.

What boundaries protect your creative time?

To be honest, I don’t really need to set too many external boundaries. I’m still young, I don’t have a ton of outside commitments, and my partner is also a creative, so our lives naturally revolve around making things. There’s not much in my day-to-day that pulls me away from being creative.

If anything, the boundaries I need are the opposite — the ones that tell me, “okay, maybe take a break now, go make some food, clean the house, touch grass.” I can get so wrapped up in little projects or ideas that I’ll forget to do basic things like eat lunch. So it’s less about protecting my creative time and more about protecting everything else from it. It’s a nice problem to have, I guess.

Have you ever redesigned your lifestyle for the sake of your art?

I suppose I have — I moved to Los Angeles for love and art. Before that, I’d been living in London for years, but coming to LA completely shifted how I was able to work creatively. It’s just built for it here, especially when it comes to visuals. The light is beautiful and consistent, the weather’s predictable, and everyone drives, so getting to a location or setting up a shoot is easy. There’s also a constant creative energy in the air — people are always making things, always down to collaborate, and the level of openness here is something I really value.

Moving across the world was a big decision, and of course I deeply miss a lot of my friends and people I’ve known for most of my life. But I also knew I was craving a period of focus and creative introspection — and that’s exactly what I’ve found here. In Europe, life felt a bit more segmented: going out, socializing, then doing studio sessions. But here, it all feels more fluid. I’ve been fully immersed in making my music and building the visuals for my new EP, and I honestly don’t think I could have done it in quite the same way anywhere else.

On top of that, being in a relationship with someone who’s also a creative has been hugely important. It wasn’t planned, of course, but in retrospect, since we’ve been together, I’ve felt totally boundless. Any time I have an idea, we just do it — and having someone who believes in you and wants to help bring your vision to life has been incredibly grounding and inspiring.

What’s one habit outside of music that strengthens your practice?

Spending time alone is definitely one of the most important things for me. When I lived in London, that was such a huge part of my life. I’d put my headphones on, queue up a playlist, and just walk for hours. I lived in Shoreditch and I’d wander all the way down to the Thames, walking along the river, deep in my feelings. Sometimes I’d just sit on a random bench and watch the world pass by — people going about their lives, completely unaware of what’s going on in yours. That kind of loneliness, in a weird way, made me feel deeply connected to myself.

I really miss that here in LA. It’s not quite the same — everything’s more spread out, the heat is intense, and walking doesn’t quite offer the same feeling. Maybe once I learn to drive, going on solo drives will give me a similar space to reflect. But either way, carving out time to be by myself is something I need. When you’re constantly around people or busy with life, it’s easy to lose track of how you actually feel.

And if you’re not in touch with yourself, what are you really creating from? What are you going to write about — getting a Starbucks? I really believe that creativity comes from within. Of course it’s shaped by the world around you, but that internal connection is everything. Being able to sit with your own thoughts, your own emotions — that’s where the good stuff comes from. That’s where truth lives. And that, more than anything, strengthens my practice.