Meet Rossana, the powerful alter ego of Portuguese artist Inês, whose music breathes new life into ancestral rhythms and traditional roots. Based between Lisbon and London, she blends psych-folk, Arab influences, and classical training into a unique sound. In this interview she shares her journey from classical musician to musical storyteller, her relationship with heritage, and her mission to bring Portuguese music beyond the borders of fado.
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Introduction
Why the name ‘Rossana’?
When I moved to London and started writing my own songs, it wouldn’t work out under my Portuguese name. So Rossana is a carefully chosen alter ego. I needed a name that travels easily across languages and with a strong feeling to it. I took it from a woman who worked at my school: she wasn’t a teacher, but she had this silent authority. She’d only need to look at us, and everyone would fall in line. I remembered her blue eyes and long hair. And when I was searching for a name, she came to mind. Rossana isn’t just a project name, it’s a persona that allows me to explore creativity beyond myself.
How would you describe your music to someone who’s never heard you before?
Currently, I’d call it Portuguese psych-traditional. It’s grounded, earthy music that feels both new and familiar. Listeners often say they recognize something in it, a melody or a rhythm, that reminds them of a song from their own background. That duality between novelty and recognition is what excites me most.
What kind of stories do your songs tell?
Initially, my songs were very introspective, about what I feel: personal reflections, feelings, relationships. But eventually, that felt empty. Now I’m more interested in translating the feelings of stories others tell me. It could be a sentence someone says that sticks with me, or a word I can’t shake. I also reinterpret existing songs in my own way. It’s no longer just about what I feel, it’s also about the world around us.
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Roots
How have your roots and heritage shaped the project?
Ironically, I once tried to escape my Portuguese heritage. Not out of anger, but because I didn’t really listen to it. But tradition finds its way back, it seeps in under your skin. Eventually, it got too loud to ignore. And when it reached that point, I surrendered. Not in a patriotic way, but something deeply embedded in my blood. Next to that, my classical piano education also plays a huge role, it’s the basis of how I arrange, think, and feel music.
Who or what inspires you the most?
I consumed music in an onorthodox way growing up. While my friends obsessed over bands and artists, I couldn’t connect to that. I was more obsessed over songs. I’d play a song on repeat until I figured out what in it made my body react. I didn’t care about the artist’s story or discography. Later in life, when I rediscovered artists like Fausto and Dulce Pontes, those really had careers that I admire and are good references to me. I remember my grandmother and mother listening to them. But honestly, it’s always been more about feelings than explicit names that inspired me.
Do you use traditional instruments or rhythms?
Definitely. Especially rhythm and voice. My first album didn’t honour that, but now I do. I distinguish between two types of traditional artists: those who preserve, and those who reinvent. I see myself in the second category, I’m more of an explorer. And there are many traditions and cultures that made Portugal what it is today. In this album, I focus particularly on Portugal’s Arab heritage, which we often overlook, even though it shaped us profoundly. Ironically, that’s the culture that we are a bit in conflict with today.
How do you integrate those elements into your sound?
Vocally, fado shaped me especially its connection to Arabic singing techniques. But I don’t call myself a fado artist. Fado is like our blues. You can sing it, but unless you feel that pain, that longing, you’re not a fado singer. I take sounds and the techniques from the 30s and reinterpret them. The aduffe adds an ancestral pulse to my performances. And the piano, of course, remains my primary tool. It’s a love and hate relationship, deeper then the relationships I had with people. I’ve been in so many fights and through ups and downs with that instrument.
What does fusion mean to you?
Fusion to me is bridging without surrendering. Fusion means connecting traditions and influences, but without losing your essence. It’s a term I have a love-hate relationship with, like I have with the term “world music”. But it helps people understand what I do. So yeah, keep it that way: bridging without surrendering.
Do you see yourself as a bridge between cultures?
Absolutely. It’s not a mission, but it’s what I do. I’ve always aimed for a broad audience in term of diversity. Portugal is often reduced to clichés: football, fado, Fernando Pessoa, all great, however we’re so much more. I want to show the world that Portuguese music has many layers, many histories, and can speak to all kinds of audiences. Especially from my base in London, I see how proudly other diasporas claim their sound. I want the same for Portugal, because it often falls into forgotten. I want to bring it out and show all of it to the world.
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Live
What feeling do you want to leave with your audience during a live show?
Often the life of an artist is romanticized. But when I’m on stage, I’m working. Not in an unromantic way, but in the sense that it’s my job to hold space. I speak very little between songs, because I have so much music to give. The music should speak. If you can be fully absorbed for 45 minutes, and go home feeling something – whether joy, sadness, or confusion – then I’ve done my job. You and I both go home and the interpretation is yours. Maybe you don’t like it, it’s okay because it’s an emotion. Ofcourse, I want people to enjoy the show and connect to what I am saying, but what you take home is your own responsibility.
Is there a live moment that stuck with you?
Yes, the first show I ever played in London after switching from English-language rock ballads to my Portuguese material. I was scared. Would people connect, even if they didn’t understand a word? But it was the opposite. People came up to me afterward asking about the instruments, the melodies. That moment taught me that music doesn’t need translation.
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Inspires
What’s next for Rossana?
We just wrapped the tour for “A la Portugaise”, but it’s not over, that album still has a long life ahead. I’m working on a new album, building on what worked but going even deeper. I’m also preparing a special concert in Lisbon with musicians from Bangladesh, Brazil, Angola, and Portugal, where they’ll reinterpret my songs their way. And hopefully many shows throughout Europe.