KWAMIE LIV: MAKING SPACE FOR CREATIVITY, EMBRACING SOFTNESS AND FINDING BEAUTY IN THE EVERYDAY

WORDS MAISIE JANE DANIELS - PHOTOGRAPHY MADELINE CARSTENSEN

It was a grey, rainy London day when I met Danish-Zambian singer-songwriter Kwamie Liv in a Camden café, to talk about her new album, Yesterday for Tomorrow. Despite the hum of conversation and the usual hustle and bustle around us, there was something immediately warm and open about her presence. We found our little corner, settled in and got talking.

When I asked what Yesterday for Tomorrow would taste like, Kwamie described it as a lovely cup of tea. It's an answer that feels rather fitting. Comforting and warm, with a depth that reveals itself when you give it a little time. There's a gentle, feminine energy that runs through the album, echoed in her paintings and wider creative world. Nothing feels rushed or forced; instead, there's a quiet confidence in allowing things to unfold.

We spoke about the importance of following your curiosity, making space for creativity, embracing vulnerability and finding beauty in the everyday. From late-night painting sessions to the ways music, visual art and imagination intertwine, Kwamie offers a glimpse into the world behind Yesterday for Tomorrow."

See Kwamie Liv live in Denmark in February 2027: Koncerthuset, Copenhagen, on 10 February, and Musikhuset Aarhus on 12 February. Tickets HERE.

Maisie Daniels: Let’s start by looking back on the last six years. What did that period teach you about yourself that you perhaps weren't expecting?

Kwamie Liv: I think this period has confirmed for me that it's very important to listen to myself really deeply and stay true to that voice regardless of where it leads, and to follow my creativity wherever it takes me. For me, that's also where the most growth happens. It's about staying true to your curiosity.

MD: I love that. Was there a particular moment when you realised you were ready to make music again, or was it something that gradually found its way back to you?

KL: I've always made music. There's the thing that you see, and then there's the thing that's happening behind the scenes. I've been writing songs since I was eight years old, it’s an integral part of my life. But I definitely think I needed to carve out space and time around myself to make this album. It required patience. I had to be fully in it.

At a certain point, I was like, okay, the songs are here. The songs that also go together. Because for me, it was very much about creating a body of work.

MD: You can really hear that when listening to the album. There's a real sense of cohesion to it. When you listen back to your earlier work, do you recognise the same person in those songs?

KL: Yeah, absolutely. Or I hope, rather, that regardless of where I go, you always hear my voice. That's kind of the thread. It's not like I'm running from thing to thing. I'm there 100%, and I think that's the stamp.

Lyrically and universe-wise, there's something in there that's an extension of what came before, but this is also definitely an album that's leaning more acoustic and more minimalistic than my earlier work.

MD: Let's talk about the album title, Yesterday for Tomorrow. I think it's a beautiful name. What does it mean to you personally?

KL: I love the idea of interpretation being free, but I was definitely into this notion of time being a continuous wave. Also, in a way, not so linear, but my feeling that everything is interconnected. Yesterday dictates tomorrow, dictates today, because it's all part the same flow.  For me, the wave on the album cover is such a beautiful wave, a moment captured still in time that we're never going to experience in that exact way again. There's something so poetic about that to me.

MD: Have you found that your relationship with time has changed as you've got older? Do you find yourself thinking about it more?

KL: No, I think it's always been important for me to try to be as present as I possibly can. My creativity has helped me with that since I was a child. The place where I'm most present is when I'm in that spot, when I'm creating. You're just here, all the other noise tunes out and you become process.

MD: The album feels incredibly tender, melancholic and romantic. There's something so comforting about it, too. Was softness something you consciously wanted to explore, particularly against the backdrop of the world we're living in?

KL: Absolutely. In many ways, this album is also me processing how absurd and real it is that everything is happening at once. The most beautiful sunflower is blooming at the same time as the most brutal act of humanity. It's nature, it's everything. It's the volatility, the softness; we're navigating it, we're part of it.

I think, in a way, I needed and wanted to create a soft space within that, but also one that doesn't look away from it.

I wanted it to feel like a gentle space sonically and production-wise, but at the same time, lyrically, to juxtapose these realities somehow.

MD: You've spoken about wanting to master your vulnerability. What does that actually look like to you?

KL: That's a good question. I think it's about allowing yourself to be your full self, actually. 

MD: If Yesterday for Tomorrow were a colour, a temperature and a taste, what would they be?

KL: It's interesting talking about colour because, while I was making the album, I've also been painting a lot. Over these last few years, I've been really drawn to colour, and I would say the colours I was drawn to during the creation of this album were very soft, gentle colours.

Of course, that's always expanding. Right now, I'm experimenting with blues and reds, and it's evolving. But during the process of making the album, I was really drawn to soft colours. It was almost like the paintings were reflecting the music in mood, not necessarily in motif, but in mood. There was definitely a deep connection there.

For the temperature, warm.

And the taste? That's difficult because it's so many tastes. If I had to say, and this could change if you asked me tomorrow, I'd say a really lovely tea. Whatever tea you really like, that taste.

MD: A comforting cup of tea. I like that! And is there a particular song on the album that you feel encapsulates its overall theme?

KL: They all do in different ways, but the first one that comes to mind now is 'Into the Night'. I think it carries what I was talking about before. It places the daily mundane next to the brutal, next to the hope, next to the nostalgia.

For me, personally and lyrically, it links my past with my present. It's a very personal song, and melodically, the way the piano rolls is so tender. There's a melancholy and a beauty that I find to be somehow pretty true to the album.

MD: I have to say, that's one of my favourite tracks on the album. I love how beautifully sad and hopeful it is, with those two feelings existing alongside each other. From the moment you start singing, it just draws you in. The lyrics really stood out to me, particularly the line, "It'll get better. Even the dark can't last forever." Do you remember how you were feeling when you wrote that?

KL: A lot of the time when I'm writing, it's very rarely one-to-one. Of course there are songs that are very much like, "This is about..." but often I'm pulling from different sources within myself, experiences and  observations.

But I think it felt necessary to say, because these are not the easiest times. It's one of those reminders that breathes on different levels. 

MD: I want to talk about your visual artwork because I've been having a little look through it and I absolutely love it. There's such an interesting contrast between your playful, almost satirical illustrations of women and your more expressive, large-scale paintings. Where did that visual language first come from?

KL: The way I experience it is that something needs to come out, it’s about urge. With the satirical cartoons, for example, there was something pressing that I couldn't express in my music, because my music isn't necessarily tongue-in-cheek or comedic. But it was really pressing. This world of women sitting, smoking and drinking with their breasts out, became a the setting for turning some of these social structures on their head. Being able to smile at the absurdity. To take ownership of it. I've spent a lot of time drawing those, and it's given me a lot of comic relief. It's been a space to make fun of some of the tougher things in our cultures and society.

With the paintings, I had painted before, but I hadn't dug so much into colour. During these years, I had a moment where I was just like, "Oh, I see it now." I could see it. It was so palpable to me, and I was just so drawn to it. I began exploring this world of colour and shapes and have spent hours mixing to get the exact tone I wanted. The paintings are very much a celebration of women and the different paths we walk. They're an ode to the women in my own life. That part of my expression is very much about exploring that.

MD: There's a real sense of female freedom in your artwork, too. Women just existing unapologetically and taking up space. Is that something you consciously explore, or does it happen more naturally?

KL: I think it's very natural. I grew up with art. My grandfather is a painter, and my mum brought me to galleries throughout my childhood. We used to play a lot of music in the house too. It's was a big part of the tapestry of my home.

I always saw it as part of the same flow of storytelling, actually. As far as the women and myself are concerned, It just feels natural. It's not something I think about. It's kind of like the music. I don't spend so much time thinking, "I want to create this." I just feel the push, follow it, and then what comes, comes.

During that period, I really wanted to be surrounded by the people I love. I spent so many years travelling when I was growing up, and so many of my dear friends and sisters are spread out around the world. I wanted to be close to them. I thought, okay, well then I'm going to paint them. I'm going to paint us, and create a room in my home where I can walk in and we're together, while at the same time making this music.

It's been some soft years, and I think that's the beauty of art in general: you can bring close what is far, and actually also put far what is close. In that way, it can be very healing.

MD: I came across your recent Eurowoman cover feature, where you described creating a human being as the most creative thing you've ever done. I thought that was such a beautiful sentiment. Has becoming a mother shifted the way you think about creativity, or what it means to bring something into the world?

KL: That was also a very big part of the painting. The colour exploration and wanting to be surrounded by the women in my life and loved ones also came while I was pregnant. I spent a lot of late nights painting in that period. It was a time full of music and art. I remember standing on a ladder painting a 2 meter high canvas in the middle of the night at basically 9 months pregnant, just totally in my body and in the zone. 

MD: I love that! I mean, nine months pregnant, on a ladder in the middle of the night. That's commitment to your craft!

KL: I've always been a night worker. Those early morning hours have always been a place where I've found a lot of peace. Everything is quiet, and it's just you, the night and your imagination. It was amazing to be able to do that.

I'm also someone who can't stop when I'm inspired. I don't count the hours. But it doesn't feel draining. It feels like drinking a full cup of fresh water. It's not emptying; it's filling. That's why I'm drawn to it, because it's actually one of the most fulfilling things I can do.

MD: That's such a lovely way to describe it. Has having a child changed the way you create?

KL: I think it's amazing because, time-wise, absolutely. But has it changed the way I create? At the core, it's really the same, actually. I'm still painting and playing songs and writing, but now there's just someone watching and going, "I want to try too."

It's beautiful to bring someone into it. We are who we are, and whoever we bring in is going to be part of that as well. 

Of course, there are different hours now. It's a different schedule, absolutely. But I still experience and treasure these moments where I get completely engulfed. I had a moment like that recently actually.

It's so important to my sense of balance to insist on that space. These bursts of creativity aren't there all the time. They can come in periods, and I try as much as I can to really listen to them and go with it.

MD: So, you're taking these songs onto the stage in February. How are you feeling about sharing something so personal and vulnerable with a live audience?

KL: I'm so excited to play live again. The rooms I'm playing are beautiful. We're doing two shows in Denmark, Copenhagen and Aarhus. It’s the only two announced next year so far, and right now I’m putting all my effort into those. It's going to be intimate and beautiful and raw, with really fantastic musicians.

I hope to create a room where people can experience some very talented players sharing and enjoying themselves; people who love their craft and are really some of the best at it. But also just a warm space where people can breathe and relax. I hope to be able to bring that mood and sentiment from the album to the stage.

At the same time, there's always something amazing about playing live because, once there's an audience and you're together creating this experience, you feed off each other, and that becomes the performance. I love that.

We're setting it up, and actually this morning I was having meetings, thinking about which musicians we should add and what we should do aesthetically. It's great.

MD: So, this is F Word Magazine, and we always finish our interviews by asking what your favourite F word is. It can be absolutely anything!

KL: Freedom.