I’m not a Blonde “11 (The Art Of Being A Couple)” Interview Feature
- Anne
- 19 minutes ago
- 11 min read
The Art of Remaining Two
I’m Not a Blonde on partnership, privacy and creative coexistence
Editorial Interview | Partner Feature
In our review of "11 (The Art of Being a Couple)", we described the album as a record built around coexistence rather than fusion: a collection of songs navigating the space between intimacy and individuality, structure and vulnerability. While the album itself explores these tensions through sound, language and repetition, the creative process behind it reveals another layer of complexity.
We spoke with Chiara Castello and Camilla Benedini in this I'm Not a Blonde interview about the origins of the record, the realities of sharing both a creative and personal partnership, the role of multilingual songwriting and the challenge of maintaining reflection in an increasingly visibility-driven music culture.
Indienoxzine:
"11 (The Art of Being a Couple)" presents love less as fusion and more as two individuals learning how to exist beside one another without disappearing into each other. Was there a specific moment or realisation that first shaped this idea during the writing process?
CAMILLA:
If I had to point to a specific moment when the concept of the album became clear, it would probably be after a conversation with my psychoanalyst. We were talking about relationships, about whether there are any real secrets to making a relationship last, and what it actually means to stay together over time. The creative process for the album was already underway at that point. We had already started writing the songs, and we were also reflecting on the fact that our relationship began as an artistic partnership and very quickly became a couple in real life as well. At some point it felt natural to ask ourselves whether that kind of fusion could be risky, and what being together really means when so many aspects of your life become intertwined. During that conversation, my psychoanalyst introduced the image of two individuals walking side by side. It was a simple idea, but it felt incredibly illuminating. Afterwards, we went back to the songs, the lyrics and all the material we had been working on, and started looking at them through that lens. It felt as if a light had suddenly been switched on. The songs were already there, the themes were already there, but for the first time we could clearly see the thread connecting them. That conversation didn't create the album's concept; it simply helped us recognise and articulate something that had already emerged naturally through the writing.
“My psychoanalyst introduced the image of two individuals walking side by side. It was a simple idea, but it felt incredibly illuminating.”
Indienoxzine:
The album moves through intimacy, distance, crisis and rediscovery. Did the songs emerge as parts of a larger narrative from the beginning, or did they slowly become connected through hindsight and emotional memory?
CHIARA:
No, it wasn’t something we planned from the beginning. We didn’t sit down and decide that the songs would become part of a larger narrative. It emerged gradually while we were writing. Little by little, we realised that the songs were reflecting the moment we were living through, not only in the way we were looking at the world around us, but also in relation to our own story.We wrote these songs after our last two EPs and after taking a break for the first time in many years. We felt the need to stop and reflect on what we wanted to do next with I'm Not a Blonde and how we wanted to move forward as a project.That period of reflection naturally led us to revisit different stages of our journey together. As we kept writing, we realised that many of the songs were speaking about those experiences, even when we hadn’t consciously intended them to. The concept and the title came later. They weren’t a starting point, but rather a way of recognising what was already there and giving a name to something that had emerged naturally through the writing process.
Indienoxzine:
Your music constantly shifts between Italian and English. Are there emotions, thoughts or vulnerabilities that become easier or harder to express depending on the language you write in?
CHIARA:
For me, English has always been the primary language of creativity. It's the language I naturally started writing songs in, and for many years all of I'm Not a Blonde's music was written and sung in English. It's also the language that reaches some of my deepest emotional roots. Even though I'm bilingual, English is connected to very early and intimate parts of my life, so it often feels more instinctive when I'm writing about personal emotions or vulnerabilities. Italian entered my songwriting later, and it's still something I'm exploring more and more. That process was helped by collaborations with Italian musicians, who in a way accompanied me towards writing in Italian. At the same time, Italian is the language I use every day and the one I know best, so it is also deeply part of who I am. What fascinates me about writing in Italian is trying to free it from the weight it often carries. Italian is a language where meaning tends to take centre stage, and I'm interested in approaching it more like I approach English: through sound, rhythm, wordplay and the musicality of the language itself. Over time, I've realised that moving between the two languages is actually the most authentic reflection of my life. That's how conversations happen in my family and in many of my closest relationships. We naturally switch between languages depending on the situation, the emotion or the subject we're talking about. People have often asked whether mixing Italian and English could be a problem, and it's something we questioned ourselves as well. We wondered whether we should make a more definitive choice and commit to one language or the other. In the end, we decided not to.
Using both felt more honest, more natural and more faithful to who we are.
Indienoxzine:
Across the record, there’s a recurring tension between closeness and individuality. In a long-term creative partnership, how do you make space for personal identity while still building a shared artistic world together?
CHIARA:
This isn’t an easy question to answer because our shared identity was never something we consciously designed. It emerged naturally and has always been the sum of our two individual identities. The difference, I think, lies in our awareness of that process. When we first met and started writing together, everything flowed very naturally. There was a greater sense of fusion, and our shared vision seemed to come effortlessly, helped by the energy and excitement that often accompany the beginning of any creative relationship. As we grew and evolved, the focus gradually shifted. It became more important to recognise and protect the space for each of us as individuals. In the beginning, it often felt as if we were moving in exactly the same direction, but over time we developed different perspectives and didn't always share the same opinions. What allows us to keep building something together is valuing those differences rather than trying to erase them. In practical terms, that means giving each other the freedom to work independently, to develop ideas separately and to bring our own point of view into the process. We often pass songs back and forth, and the shared identity of I'm Not a Blonde is built somewhere in that exchange. It's not about finding a middle ground. It's more about respecting our individual voices and allowing them to coexist. Quite often one of us starts with a very clear idea of where a song is going, and then the other takes it somewhere completely unexpected. Those moments can be surprising, but they're also where some of the most interesting things happen.
“It’s not about finding a middle ground. It’s more about respecting our individual voices and allowing them to coexist.”
Indienoxzine:
Sonically, the album balances minimalist synth structures with emotionally exposed songwriting. What attracts you to the contrast between electronic precision and emotional vulnerability?
CAMILLA:
What attracts me to that contrast is that electronic music, especially when it relies on repetition, can create a very particular mental space. The repetitive structures, the loops and the sense of precision almost become a tool for reflection. It's difficult to explain, but repetition can draw you into a kind of suspended state where the emotional narrative becomes even more vivid. Instead of distracting from emotion, it can actually amplify it. I think there's also something powerful about placing two seemingly opposite elements next to each other. When emotional vulnerability exists within a rigid or controlled structure, the contrast makes both aspects stronger. The emotions feel more focused, more defined, and somehow more intense. I've never really agreed with the idea that electronic music is cold or purely calculated. Quite the opposite. For me, electronic music can be incredibly emotional. The machines, the repetition and the structure don't remove feeling; they create a space where feeling can resonate in a different and sometimes even deeper way.
“I’ve never really agreed with the idea that electronic music is cold or purely calculated.”
Indienoxzine:
Many artists today are expected to constantly turn their personal lives into visible online narratives. Have you ever felt tension between protecting intimacy and maintaining visibility in digital culture?
CAMILLA:
Yes, definitely. Although I wouldn't call it a tension as much as a sense of distance. Social media has never felt like a natural environment for us. Of course we use it because it's part of being an independent artist today and it's often necessary to promote our music, but finding the right balance between sharing our work and protecting our private lives can be difficult. What social media tends to reward is personal exposure. The more intimate and personal the content, the more visible it becomes. Purely promotional communication rarely generates the same attention, so there is a constant pressure to reveal more of yourself than you might otherwise choose to. We've had to learn how to navigate that reality and find a balance that feels comfortable to us. But at the end of the day, social media is a tool, not a space where we feel the need to tell the story of our private lives. Maybe it's also a generational thing. We grew up with a stronger distinction between what was public and what was personal, and that sense of privacy is still important to us. We'd rather let the music reveal what it needs to reveal and keep some parts of life for ourselves.
Indienoxzine:
Your music carries traces of ’80s synth-pop and ’90s alternative aesthetics without feeling purely nostalgic. Are there specific sounds, memories or emotional associations from those eras that still influence how you approach music today?
CAMILLA:
What we probably carry with us from the world of '80s synth-pop is less a specific sound and more an attitude. When people talk about synth-pop, they often forget how much of it grew out of post-punk. That's probably the influence I feel most connected to: a certain energy, a certain sense of urgency and freedom. Especially in the early years of I'm Not a Blonde, that punk spirit was a very important part of what we did, and I think it's still visible in our live shows today. Even though we work with electronics, there's a strong physical energy in the way we perform. Another aspect that has stayed with us is the idea that music is only one part of the artistic language. Many artists from that era paid great attention to aesthetics, imagery and visual identity, and we feel close to that approach. The way you present yourself, the visual world you create and the atmosphere surrounding the music can be just as important as the songs themselves. So if I think about the legacy of those years, beyond specific sounds or production choices, it's really those two things: the post-punk energy and the belief that music exists within a broader artistic and visual universe.
Indienoxzine:
Some songs on the album feel intimate and almost inward-looking on headphones. What changes emotionally once those songs enter a live space and are shared with an audience?
CHIARA:
Some of the lyrics on this album are very personal and draw directly from my own experiences. Once those songs are released and start being performed live, there’s a real sense of exposure. It feels like opening a door and allowing other people to see parts of yourself that would otherwise remain private. There’s a contradiction in that. If those experiences become songs, it’s because there is a desire to share them. But at the same time, there’s also a fear of being fully seen, especially in the areas of ourselves that often feel safer when they remain protected. So there are two opposite feelings coexisting. On one side, there’s the desire to communicate, to connect and, in a way, to exorcise certain emotions or experiences. Music allows you to release things that might otherwise remain unresolved. Once they are expressed and shared, they often lose some of their weight, and certain knots begin to loosen. On the other side, there is also a feeling of vulnerability. When those songs are shared with an audience, you willingly invite people into a very intimate space. It’s a kind of chosen exposure, and even when it feels liberating, it can still be unsettling. What changes in a live setting is that those songs no longer belong entirely to me. They become part of a shared experience, and that vulnerability is transformed into a connection with the people listening.
“Once they are expressed and shared, they often lose some of their weight, and certain knots begin to loosen.”
Indienoxzine:
As an Italian-American duo working between languages, aesthetics and cultural references, do you feel connected to a particular local scene or more to a broader transnational independent music culture?
CAMILLA:
For a long time, especially during the first part of our career when all of our songs were written in English, our main points of reference naturally came from outside Italy. The artists, records and scenes we felt closest to were mostly international, and in many ways that's still true today. At the same time, over the last few years we've seen a new generation of Italian artists emerge, including many women and producers, whose work feels much more internationally minded in terms of sound and artistic vision. Even when they sing in Italian, their music often exists beyond a purely local context. Because of that, we're starting to feel a stronger connection with what's happening here as well. There is still a noticeable generational gap, but we're increasingly finding artists and projects in Italy that we genuinely relate to. So I don't think we feel entirely part of a specific local scene, nor completely detached from it. We've always existed somewhere in between. Our references have been shaped by a broader international independent music culture, but today we're also finding points of connection much closer to home.
Indienoxzine:
Independent music increasingly rewards speed, visibility and constant output. What helps you preserve reflection, patience and emotional depth within an environment that often moves very quickly?
CHIARA:
I think one of the ways we deal with it is by helping each other not to get completely pulled into the logic of the system around us. There’s a constant pressure to be visible, to release new music quickly, to keep producing content and to always be present. For many years, we followed that rhythm ourselves. We never really stopped writing or releasing music, partly because we felt the need to keep attention on the project and maintain momentum. Over time, though, we both started to feel the need for something different. We wanted to slow down, to breathe a little, and to find a rhythm that felt more natural to us, one that also allowed space for pauses, reflection and simply living. It’s not easy, and I don’t think there’s a perfect solution. We still go through phases where we feel caught up in that pressure and find ourselves chasing productivity and visibility. Then there are other moments when we step back and realise that way of working doesn't really reflect who we are or how we want to create. So in a way, we're constantly negotiating that balance. There isn't a fixed method. It's an ongoing process of trying to protect the time and emotional space that creativity actually needs, while existing within an environment that often demands the opposite.
“We wanted to slow down, to breathe a little, and to find a rhythm that felt more natural to us.”
More than anything, the conversation reveals how closely ”11 (The Art of Being a Couple)” mirrors the realities that shaped it. The album’s recurring tensions - between intimacy and individuality, visibility and privacy, structure and emotion - are not abstract concepts imposed on the music after the fact. They emerge directly from the duo’s lived experience, creative process and evolving partnership. Rather than searching for resolution, I’m Not a Blonde remain interested in coexistence itself: the fragile, often contradictory space where different identities, perspectives and emotions continue to exist alongside one another. In that sense, "11 (The Art of Being a Couple)" feels less like an album about love than a reflection on how connection is sustained over time. Not through fusion, but through the ongoing decision to keep walking side by side.
Further perspectives can be found in our Artist Features, where releases are situated within broader artistic contexts. Our Reviews provide in-depth analysis of new music, while Cultural Essays explore identity, scenes and narrative across contemporary independent music culture.