1.) You’ve attended Coachella many times. As its that time of year again, how has the festival influenced you?
Coachella is an incredible event of creativity and expression. Every time I’ve gone, I’ve come away with something new. Whether it’s an artist’s performance or just the overall vibe of the festival, it’s inspiring to see so many different styles of music and art come together in one place.
2.) We were very touched by your recent song “Lord Give Me The Rain.” How did the fires in Los Angeles influence the song and why is Los Angeles so personal to you?
The LA wildfires were a turning point for me. I felt helpless but also inspired to use my music as a form of expression. I found a Hungarian prayer and channeled my grief into a symbolic prayer for renewal. The song is a call for healing, not just for the environment, but also for the emotional scars we all face. As for Los Angeles, I recorded my album Stay and filmed the music video along the Pacific Coast Highway. It’s a very special place to me.
3.) “For You” feels incredibly personal. What’s the story behind that song?
It’s about reclaiming your peace. I wrote it after realizing that giving all of yourself to someone doesn’t always mean they’ll hold it with care. It’s a boundary song. It’s soft, but also fierce in its message. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is say “no more” in a gentle voice.
4) Your album ‘Stay’ is incredibly intimate yet diverse sonically. What was your vision when putting it together?
The album came from grief. I lost my father, and I didn’t know how to process it—so I sat with my feelings. ‘Stay’ is about sitting with sadness, with beauty, with love. I worked with different producers across Europe and the U.S., which is why the sounds are so varied. But at its core, it’s all about staying connected to what’s real.
5.) You’ve worked with some amazing DJs and producers—can you talk about that, and do you want to continue that collaboration in the future?
Definitely. I love collaborating with DJs because they bring a different kind of discipline to a track—one that’s rooted in rhythm, energy, and space. I’ve worked with a few who’ve really helped me reimagine how my voice can live in a more electronic or dance-oriented world. I’d love to continue down that path, especially with live remix sets. I think there’s a beautiful intersection between singer-songwriter vulnerability and electronic elevation, and I want to keep exploring that.
6.) Your song “Hey Granny” touches on themes of family and legacy. What inspired this track?
I wrote “Hey Granny” as a way of holding onto the wisdom that came before me. It’s a song for anyone who feels the presence of their ancestors in moments of silence. There’s so much strength in our roots—sometimes we just need to be reminded that we come from love.
7.) “Mexico” has been described as an empowering journey. Can you share the story behind it?
“Mexico” is about escaping the version of yourself that no longer fits. I wrote it after a time when I felt stuck—creatively, emotionally. That trip became symbolic. It was less about the destination and more about permission to rediscover who I could be.
8.) You’ve performed in some iconic venues in LA. How has performing live shaped your relationship with your audience?
Live shows remind me that music is a two-way conversation. When you see someone in the front row singing your lyrics back to you, something shifts. It’s not about perfection anymore. It’s about presence. I’ve learned to trust the moment more because of that.
9.) Do your Hungarian roots ever make their way into your sound or lyrics?
Absolutely. Even when I write in English, there’s a rhythm and melancholy in the way I phrase things—that comes from Hungarian folk and language. I also love bringing that subtle darkness into bright melodies. It’s like a secret undercurrent.
10.) As someone who writes about healing, how do you personally manage creative burnout?
I don’t fight it anymore. If I’m burned out, I let myself rest. I go for long walks without music. I listen to silence. Sometimes I write letters I never send. Sometimes I just breathe. I’ve learned that the best songs come when I stop chasing them.