In a time when political discourse is either flattened into slogans or shouted into algorithmic voids, WITCHESS emerges as something more demanding and less comforting. Conceived by drummer, composer, and improviser Francesca Remigi, the project refuses the idea of music as neutral territory. Instead, it treats sound as a site of friction, where feminist theory, jazz history, embodied experience, and structural violence coexist without asking for permission.
Rooted in composition but constantly destabilized by improvisation, WITCHESS operates through tension rather than resolution: between control and rupture, voice and silence, groove and collapse. Remigi’s practice draws on rhythm as a political force, the speaking voice as material rather than message, and the body as both instrument and battleground. There is no attempt to make the discourse palatable. Complexity is not smoothed out, and ambiguity is allowed to do its work.
This interview follows Francesca Remigi through the conceptual and practical layers of WITCHESS (out on last November for Hora Records): how theory becomes sound, how power dynamics surface in ensemble playing, how improvisation can reproduce hierarchies or dismantle them, and why discomfort is sometimes the most honest aesthetic choice. What emerges is not an explanation to be consumed, but a conversation that insists on listening carefully, and on accepting that music can be a place where questions remain unresolved, on purpose.
Chain D.L.K.: “WITCHESS” is an interdisciplinary project where music, spoken word, theory, and body coexist. When you begin composing, what usually comes first: rhythm, text, political urgency, or an unresolved inner tension?
Francesca Remigi: Thanks for your question. For this particular project, I think texts and political urgency did come first. I lived in the US for a few years until the end of 2023. I did my Master’s at Berklee College of Music in Boston before moving to New York for a bit. Witnessing racism in the States was a strong experience, which made me develop a deeper understanding of what jazz music is and represents for African-Americans. But it’s really that minority’s experience of discrimination combined with the marginalizing experience of being a gender/sexual minority in the music field (which I can relate to), which I wanted to know more about.
Thanks to some seminars about Jazz History which were focusing on Black feminism, Jazz Music and Jazz Education, I got very fond of feminist writers like Angela Davis, Bell Hooks, Maya Angelou, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and since then I think I have been going through a path of educating myself about what it has been meaning to be part of an underrepresented community in the music industry. I’ve come to realize that certain historical and anthropological developments of the music have been deeply connected with class, gender and race and since I think music is the mirror of our society, I wanted to dig deeper into certain aspects of it to have a better understanding of certain dynamics. And that naturally translated into the music with WITCHESS.
Chain D.L.K.: The album addresses witch-hunting as a structural foundation of modern capitalism. How do you translate such dense historical material into sound without turning music into mere illustration?
Francesca Remigi: For how I experience music as a listener, I think sounds can be perceived as an illustration of different landscapes and emotions, and I don’t see anything wrong with it.
When I used to go to listen to concerts with my parents as a kid, what I’ve always liked about music, no matter how boring classical concerts were at times for a 5-year-old kid! – was that, by closing my eyes and listening, I could tackle my own imaginative world and make up stories which would go hand in hand with certain music. I’ve always been a very visual person, and as a composer, sometimes it still helps me to imagine a scene and write the “soundtrack” of it! The nice thing about music is that whoever listens is able to create their own story to it.
As a musician, I think sometimes it is very easy for us to get caught up in technicalities, which is also good and very educational of course.
But I’ve always been a person who’s interested in the evocative power of music: music tells something to people, it moves them, and at times it works as a social consciousness. That’s what I like as a listener in other people’s music, so that’s what I’m personally drawn to as well in my artistic practice.
No right or wrong, of course, it’s just my own opinion.
Chain D.L.K.: Angela Davis and Silvia Federici are not just references but structural presences. How does your compositional process change when theory becomes a driving force rather than a backdrop?
Francesca Remigi: When the content becomes a driving force in the music, it shapes not just what the lyrics say but also how the music gets structured. So, besides working a lot with image sequencing and the evocative/emotional power of music, I deal with text a lot. One technique I like to use to compose, starting with text, consists of recording myself reading an excerpt and then listening back and transcribing the intonation, the pitches, and the rhythms of the language, turning speech into music itself (as I did in Caccia alle Streghe). Different languages, in fact, sound rhythmically very different from each other, and that’s something that has always fascinated me. Some other times, the text guides the music in creating the right dramaturgical structure to support the meaning of certain words (Roots For Gender Violence); on the contrary, in the track Opening, I give the words space and let the music respond/react to them.
Chain D.L.K.: In “WITCHESS”, drums don’t accompany – they insist, interrupt, and lead. What is the political role of rhythm for you?
Francesca Remigi: I like unpredictable rhythms because they resist routine – they keep things unstable, alert, always questioning the status quo – which I guess can also be seen politically! I think different rhythms can be related to people’s different habits and different timings in how they carry out their lives: they express the multiplicity of our community life.
Chain D.L.K.: Improvisation often carries the promise of freedom. When does it become a genuine tool of resistance, and when does it risk turning into an aesthetic comfort zone?
Francesca Remigi: Improvisation becomes a real tool of resistance when it’s driven by self-criticism, openness, and curiosity, so that it actively pushes back against conformity and flattening.
It can turn into an aesthetic comfort zone when it hardens into routine, repeating the same structures and gestures.
That’s why I keep disrupting my own habits: playing with different people, exploring new sounds, constantly changing my setup, bringing in something new – a percussion, a pedal, whatever. Staying inspired is what keeps improvisation alive, daring, and resistant.
Chain D.L.K.: Many tracks feel like sonic essays. Do you care whether the listener “understands”, or is disorientation part of the work?
Francesca Remigi: I’d love for the audience to understand – that’s why I spend so much time preparing EPKs and press materials – but I also know that music is such an intimate and personal experience that listeners are free to take whatever they want from it. That’s the beauty of music, too!
I guess what matters to me is getting a reaction from the audience, whether good or bad: it shows the music moved something in them.
I do find my work disorienting, unsettling, and even unpleasant at times, but if my goal was just to make “nice” music and offer a polished version of the world we live in, I’d probably go for commercial music -and make good money at least!
Chain D.L.K.: Spoken voice plays a central role in the album. Do you find it more dangerous – or more honest – than singing?
Francesca Remigi: I see spoken voice mostly as a textural element. Andrea, the singer, masters many extended vocal techniques, and spoken words just add an interesting color, which I think fits the “riot” vibe of the music at certain moments. I don’t think it’s about being more dangerous or honest, even though spoken words can definitely be perceived as more immediate and understandable by people. I mostly see them as another available tool in the sound palette.
Chain D.L.K.: “Roots of Gender Violence” unfolds almost like a ritual. Do you think of music as a counter-ritual, capable of rewriting inherited symbols?
Francesca Remigi: I guess in some cases music can act as a counter-ritual and reshape/challenge inherited symbols. By manipulating rhythm, texture, and lyrics, music can definitely unsettle familiar patterns and open spaces for reflection and transformation. Maybe then it takes something other than just music to dismantle inherited symbols, but it can definitely help amplify certain innovative visions and directions.
Chain D.L.K.: The word “liberation” appears several times, but without triumphalism. What kind of liberation feels meaningful to you today?
Francesca Remigi: Freedom, for me, is something worth fighting for every day. Lately, we’ve been witnessing how taking rights for granted can undermine the very respectability of those. Liberation feels meaningful as a constant struggle, a continuous dialogue within and across communities about moral values and mutual respect.
Chain D.L.K.: The body – yours, the musicians’, the dancer’s – is crucial in a project that speaks about control and repression. How does embodiment shape your compositional choices?
Francesca Remigi: I haven’t really reflected deeply on embodiment in my own practice, unfortunately. But working closely with the dancer and improvising with her has pushed us to start thinking about it. So far, I’ve been starting from the music and adapting the dance to it, but it would be great to do it the other way around and compose starting from the dancer’s body movements. That’s something we currently do only in a few improvised spots.
Chain D.L.K.: When feminism enters artistic discourse, it often gets absorbed into safe, inclusive rhetoric. How do you keep the work uncomfortable, even for those who agree with it?
Francesca Remigi: Musically, instead of going for rhetoric, I try to make people feel something, that being discomfort, anger, sadness, relief,… I hope people manage to let emotions sink in and connect to themselves on a deeper level, so that the work may resonate beyond words, but may challenge people from within.
Chain D.L.K.: The project brings together musicians from very different backgrounds. How do you build a shared language without flattening individual differences?
Francesca Remigi: I’ve tried to build a shared language by writing with the specific features of my musicians in mind, so that in the compositions they’d still sound like themselves. At the same time, I make sure to leave moments where each musician can emerge and do their own thing-I chose them because I love their own sonic world, and I do want them to bring it into mine!
Chain D.L.K.: “Loghaven” emerged from an artist residency. What happens to your music when time stops being fragmented and productivity-driven?
Francesca Remigi: I guess the music becomes more focused and creative in a way. In those moments, I allow myself to explore and deepen things I wouldn’t normally go for, and that’s often where the weirdest ideas come from. Sitting in the dullness helps too. After a day or two of that, I start feeling useless, and that’s usually a good push for me to find the energy to play again, even just fooling around and improvising with random ideas. Once I find the right one, I just can’t stop anymore. I find a healthy routine again and get to work!
Chain D.L.K.: Anger in “WITCHESS” is rarely explosive; it’s often restrained, layered, almost sedimented. Is that a conscious choice?
Francesca Remigi: It’s not 100% conscious, but I think it well reflects the century-long struggle of womxn for equal rights.
Chain D.L.K.: Do you believe music can actively alter power structures – or at least fracture them – or does its political strength lie elsewhere?
Francesca Remigi: I think music has a powerful ability to bring people together and make them feel part of something bigger. In that sense, it holds a socio-political power since it can foster solidarity, empathy, and awareness, creating spaces where people can connect and reflect collectively. That said, I don’t think music alone can change the world; there are larger forces and structures at play, and real systemic change requires action beyond concert halls. Music can definitely inspire, provoke, and fracture perspectives, but it works best when it’s part of a broader struggle rather than seen as a standalone solution.
Chain D.L.K.: How do audiences respond when a concert becomes an explicitly political space? Do you welcome discomfort?
Francesca Remigi: Some audience members probably don’t fully understand it but stay until the end out of politeness; others love it, some dislike it, and leave. I think a performance that doesn’t welcome discomfort has little connection to our everyday life and to the kind of “fluid” relationships we experience nowadays. I think we need to learn to adapt to discomfort and understand its reasons to work through it. Actually, many womxn seem very curious about what we do, and they often come to ask questions after our concerts: that always feels very empowering, and it has helped us build a community in dialogue within itself. Some have even invited us to perform for their cultural associations after listening to us.
Chain D.L.K.: As an improviser, how do you navigate the tension between compositional control and radical openness, especially in a concept-driven project like this?
Francesca Remigi: I try to balance through-composed sections with open moments where each musician can emerge and do their own thing, letting structure and freedom coexist. In improvisation, I provide guidance-whether it’s a text, a specific sonic soundscape, or an emotion we need to convey- whereas in the composed material, I like to combine fixed parameters with elements of free choice.
Chain D.L.K.: If “WITCHESS” were a manual – not of instructions, but of survival – what would you hope remains with the reader/listener?
Francesca Remigi: Resistance, persistence, and resilience.
Chain D.L.K.: Last question, no escape: if the witch still exists today, what does she sound like?
Francesca Remigi: She would probably sound like the uncomfortable words of Francesca Albanese, like a screaming warrior protesting against the regime and the Western world in the streets of Tehran, or like a mother in Gaza who carries on even if there’s nothing more to say.
Visit Francesca Remigi on the web:
https://remigifrancesca.com/https://francescaremigi.bandcamp.com/releases