By: Staff
Francesca Pichierri releases deeply personal new single "Gelo"
We had the chance to experience “Gelo” by Francesca Pichierri, and the emotional depth behind this song left us speechless. After learning about Francesca’s journey and her mother’s battle with ovarian cancer, we knew this was a message that needed to be shared far and wide. Music has a way of transcending languages and cultures, and “Gelo,” sung in Italian, is the perfect example of this. The beauty of music is its ability to unite us through universal emotions, and Francesca’s heartfelt tribute is one that anyone, no matter their background, can feel deeply.
From the moment the song begins, Francesca’s angelic vocals immediately draw you in. The opening is soft, with a delicate piano that introduces an almost haunting yet tender atmosphere. It feels so personal, especially knowing it was written in her childhood bedroom, and that intimacy comes through in every note. Her voice is a beautiful mix of strength and vulnerability, and when paired with the lyrics inspired by her mother’s journey, it’s an emotional gut punch.
The music quickly shifts into something more serious, carrying the weight of the trauma she’s experienced. There’s this R&B-inspired tone that creeps in, but it still maintains that somber feeling of darkness. Her vocals rise, full of raw power and control, and as the song builds, so does the tension, creating a crescendo that hits you straight in the heart. It’s impossible not to be moved by the emotion in Francesca’s voice.
What makes “Gelo” even more striking is how much you can feel the pain in her voice, even if you don’t understand Italian. The way the instruments and vocals combine to carry the story makes it universal. There’s a drum beat that rolls in about three-quarters through the track, accompanied by deep bass and horns that give this sensation of impending doom. Yet, despite the heaviness, there’s a sense of catharsis when the piano reappears, bringing everything full circle.
Francesca has achieved something truly magical with this song. Her ability to express such deep, personal pain while still making it relatable to anyone listening is no small feat. We couldn’t help but listen to “Gelo” multiple times, drawn back in by its delicate intricacies and the weight it carries. This song gets a 100% from us.
Francesca Pichierri’s "Gelo" is a moving, powerful song that delves deep into the emotional turmoil following a life-altering cancer diagnosis. Her vocals are angelic yet strong, and the music is crafted with somber piano melodies, R&B hints, and a strong crescendo mirrors the intensity of the experience. It’s an intimate portrayal of vulnerability and resilience, told in a way that transcends language.
You can find this release on any major platform, see below for links to take you straight to some of the profiles. Make sure to playlist, stream, and share "Gelo" by Francesca Pichierri.
Wait….. there's more!
We caught up with this exciting artist, for an interview in “The Cage” Music Blog, to talk about music and learn more about them.
Here’s how it went:
Begin Interview
Hello Francesca Pichierri, we’re thrilled to have you for this interview. We've enjoyed diving into your music and learning about your work, but we're eager to discover even more about you personally and professionally.
We read:
“It’s a story that many can relate to, either through personal experience or through loved ones. This song is not just another track but a touching musical narrative of discovery and transformation. Gelo was the first song I wrote, with words flowing rapidly, for the first time in my native language. In the song, I stay true to my mom’s story and feelings."
When we read this we knew this was a powerful project. Can you tell us more about how this news of your mothers illness first felt and how it developed into this song?
Thank you, that’s very kind of you. It’s a moving question. Reflecting on it takes me back to May 2020, when I first heard the news. I received the call from my mom after her routine check-up: “the doctor found something” she said. But at that time, none of us could have predicted just how life-altering this news would be.
It’s hard to put into words what I felt. It was certainly unexpected, confusing. You never expect this kind of news, even though we all know life is fragile. My mom has always been healthy; she’s the kind of person who never even catches a cold. So hearing that she had cancer felt surreal, like something that couldn’t possibly be true. What made it even harder was the pandemic. I was in another country and couldn’t fly back to Italy for months because of travel restrictions. I felt utterly powerless, angry and scared —there’s no guidebook for navigating something like this.
When I finally returned to Italy and started supporting her through chemotherapy, I put my life on hold, I threw myself into caring for her, learning about cancer, and trying to stay strong. But I still felt powerless. I couldn’t change what was happening, and that sense of helplessness was overwhelming.
That’s when I lost my voice—literally; and I didn’t sing, make music, or use my voice in any particularly demanding way for months. It became clear to me how deeply my voice is connected to my emotions. It’s as if my body refused to speak until I confronted the emotional storm inside and outside of me.
I knew I needed to find a way to channel all that pain. Writing "Gelo" became my way of doing that. I realized that even though I couldn’t control what was happening to my mom, I could tell her story. I could share her experiences, her strength, and how much she was going through, so that others could understand the hard reality of battling cancer and other people facing the same could find a space where they felt seen.
In many ways, writing about her gave me a sense of purpose. Telling her story was a way for me to regain control over life’s narrative and bring some justice to an unjust situation. "Gelo" captures not only this cold, paralyzing shock of the unexpected, the frozen feeling when life as you know it suddenly cracks; but it’s also about the thaw - the realization, the willingness to face a challenge and the adrenaline that kicks in when you’re staring down the unknown. It’s about finding strength in vulnerability.
By turning something deeply painful into something meaningful, I could find meaning to something senseless, hold onto the fleeting, and hopefully, connect with others who might be going through the same experience.
We read:
“This track marks the beginning of my concept album, “Cellule Stronze,” (“Bitchy Cells” in English) which narrates the story of my mother’s ongoing journey with ovarian cancer and aims to raise awareness about gynecological cancers and the importance of prevention.”
We love this name! How did you come to this idea for such a catchy and descriptive title?
Oh thanks! Actually, "Cellule Stronze" came to me quite spontaneously, after months of reading about cancer, reflecting, and living closely with my mom as she went through treatment. We directly experienced how complex this journey is—physically, emotionally, and even socially. The title reflects all those layers of difficulty, capturing the raw, relentless nature of cancer and the challenges that people have to face on multiple fronts.
The title "Cellule Stronze" holds a dual meaning. On the surface, it directly refers to cancer cells, which are the fundamental units of the body but have turned destructive. In Italian slang, "stronze" is a term that can mean "bitches," "jerks," or "bastards." I chose this word deliberately because it’s raw, aggressive, vulgar, and even a bit childlike in its bluntness. Its 'indecency' and 'irrationality' serve as a direct confrontation to the aggressive nature of cancer cells, which seem hell-bent on taking my mother away. The title reflects not only my anger toward these cells but also hers, encapsulating the struggle, defiance, and sometimes seemingly irrational aspect of facing a formidable adversary, capable of undermining and challenging every facet of one's being.
Cancer cells are relentless, reproducing wildly and destroying the body in their quest to survive, ultimately leading to their own destruction as well. In a way, their behavior mirrors certain human tendencies—selfish, short-sighted, and destructive. The cell, after all, is the basic unit of all living organisms, and just as cells can turn on the body, people can act in ways that harm those around them.
That brings me to the second layer of the title. The word "cellula" (cell) extends beyond its biological context and is also employed in social realms. It connects to the social bonds we rely on—our family, friends, and community. Cancer affects not just the person diagnosed, but their whole network. Throughout my mom’s journey with cancer, we encountered a wide range of human reactions—some warm and supportive, but others surprisingly distant and cold. This phenomenon, known as "cancer ghosting," occurs when people, sometimes even close friends, withdraw or cut off contact when faced with a loved one’s illness. It’s one of the most unexpected and painful parts of dealing with cancer.
The motivations behind this behavior are intricate. Perhaps one reason lies in the enduring stigma and taboo surrounding cancer and the possibility of death more generally; perhaps in the fact that, rightly or wrongly, some individuals find themselves deeply absorbed in their own lives, for better or worse, trying to survive. In a parallel narrative, the self-absorption and occasional lack of sensitivity or consideration for the experiences and journeys of others, observed in human interactions, echo the damaging patterns witnessed at the cellular level.
That’s a very nerdy answer… sorry :D
We read:
I composed and recorded “Gelo” in my childhood bedroom, arranging and producing the track in collaboration with Italian producer and musician Stefano Iuso.
The part in your bedroom seems important to you. How did the decision to create it in this space have an impact on the song?
Yes, it definitely had an impact. On one hand, the decision was practical—I was often back home to take care of my mom, and creating in my childhood bedroom felt like the most natural option. My parents' house has always been a place of strong inspiration for me. It’s surrounded by nature, and there’s a deep creative energy there that I’ve always felt connected to.
But recording in that space also held emotional significance. Being in my bedroom, where I grew up, allowed me to stay present and grounded in the experience of supporting my mom. I was there with her every step of the way, and that closeness helped me create something authentic. "Gelo" is a deeply personal song, and being physically close to my mom while I composed it made it more real, more raw. It allowed me to channel the emotions I was experiencing in the moment.
At the same time, working in that space meant embracing certain technical limitations. Since I live abroad, I didn’t have access to all my usual equipment, which forced me to simplify the process. In a way, though, those limitations contributed to the intimacy and authenticity of the track—it stripped things back to the essentials, and I think that’s reflected in the music.
How did you come to have this professional relationship with Italian producer and musician Stefano Iuso?
I discovered Stefano through a mutual friend on Instagram. At the time, I was interested in learning more about music production, and since he was offering lessons, I reached out and began taking online classes with him.
Working with Stefano felt natural from the start. He’s the kind of teacher and collaborator who doesn’t watch the clock—if he’s explaining or doing something important, he keeps going, even after the session is technically over. His passion for music is so genuine, and his guidance is never driven by personal interest, which is rare in this industry. He truly cares about the art and the people he works with.
Our lessons were invaluable, not only for the technical skills I learned but also for the way he encouraged my artistic and creative growth. When I shared my project and ideas with him, he was fully invested from the start. While most of our collaboration took place online, which made the process longer and more complex, we managed to overcome the technical and logistical challenges. In the end, we created something really special together and I’m incredibly grateful to have worked with him. I’ve learned so much from him, both as a musician and creative, and that’s something I’ll carry with me moving forward.
What are the main challenges you face as a solo artist, and how do the benefits of working independently compare?
As an independent artist, the biggest challenge is managing every aspect of your career on your own. It's not just about writing, composing, and arranging music—you're also in charge of recording, producing, distributing, promoting, and creating visual content, and much more. The large number of responsibilities can be overwhelming, especially since each area requires a different set of skills and knowledge. There’s so much that goes on behind the scenes, and it demands both significant time and financial investment. Funding every aspect of a project—from production to marketing—can be daunting.
Moreover, you often face limitations due to a constrained budget and need to navigate these constraints while still striving to produce your best work. Balancing creative endeavors with the business side of your career can be particularly challenging, as it requires not only time management but also a continual learning process. You must have patience and commitment, be willing to study and learn new skills, and seek out a network of knowledgeable people who can trust and help guide you through the complexities of the music industry. There’s always a never-ending list of tasks, from managing social media and planning releases to networking and promoting your work. You really have to believe in what you're doing to find the strength and determination to keep going. Visibility is also a major hurdle. Without the support of a label or management team, getting your music heard by a wider audience is tough.
Despite these challenges, there are real benefits to working independently. I’ve had to learn new skills, from marketing to production, which has been both challenging and rewarding. I enjoy the variety that comes with managing every aspect of my career, and the full creative control allows me to stay true to my vision without having to compromise. While I’d love to focus solely on the creative side of making music, I appreciate the freedom that comes with being fully committed to every step of the process. It gives me a deeper connection to my work.
Of course, I’ve never had the experience of working with a label, so I can’t fully compare. But being independent, while demanding, offers a level of autonomy that I truly value. It’s difficult, but it’s a journey that gives you a sense of ownership over your craft, and that makes the challenges worth it.
Was there always a desire to create music, or did you have an event in your life that made you realize this is what you want to do as a profession?
The desire to create music has always been a part of me. It’s a cliché, but I’ve been making music since I was a small child. One of my earliest memories of songwriting is from when I was seven. My brother and I created an album on cassette—each song humorously highlighted a different family member, bringing out their quirks and telling real stories. My brother and I still laugh about it today and occasionally sing those songs together.
For me, music was always about storytelling and connection. I loved experimenting with instruments and exploring the emotional power of sound. My first formal step into music was at age 11 when I started studying violin. Although drums were my favorite instrument, I chose violin because of the teacher—her warmth and encouragement left a big impact on me. Interestingly, it was this same violin teacher who noticed my singing talent after a school recital. She urged my parents to enroll me in vocal lessons, and from there, my passion for voice grew. I never stopped studying and eventually trained to become a vocal coach myself.
Despite my love for music, I never saw it as a serious career path when I was younger. Growing up in a humble family, making a living through music didn’t feel like a responsible or realistic option. The small experiences I had with the music business as a young adult often felt superficial and even risky. I didn’t see the social value in being a musician back then, and I feared being exploited due to my lack of knowledge and inexperience. I wanted to protect my artistic integrity and do music on my own terms, without being commercialized or taken advantage of by others.
As a result, I kept music as a hobby while pursuing other studies and a more stable career. No matter where I went, music always followed me. I traveled and moved a lot, and in each city, I found myself forming new music projects, experimenting with different genres, and collaborating with locals. While I didn’t seek the spotlight, I took great joy in creating behind the scenes, especially through coaching other artists and delving into the science of the voice.
Over time, I came to realize that I couldn’t ignore how much music meant to me. The more time I spent working in other fields, the more I missed music and felt its absence. I began saving money to invest in my own artistic development. I wanted to be an independent artist who could produce authentic music, without relying on external pressures.
The turning point came when my mother got sick. That experience made me realize that life is too short to keep postponing your true passions. I felt there was no time left to waste, and I finally understood that I was ready to pursue music seriously. It became clear to me that music is not just a hobby or a side project—it’s a core part of who I am and the work I’m meant to do.
Can you describe to us the theme for your artwork and what was the inspiration and intention for the observer to absorb from it?
The artwork for "Gelo" is a visual interpretation of the song, designed to transport the listener to the place where the story takes place. It is closely connected to the lyrics. My writing process is highly visual, often influenced by cinematic techniques, as I imagine scenes playing out in my head. This approach drives me to pay close attention to the visual elements of my projects, ensuring they represent the music as authentically as possible. My goal is to create immersive, emotional experiences for the audience, guiding them deeper into the world I’m building with both sound and image.
Symbolism, metaphors, and allegory are key elements in my art. For example, the gynecologist’s chair in the artwork is teal, a color symbolically tied to ovarian cancer awareness. It took me a long time to find a chair of that exact color, but it was important to me to include this detail as it is closely connected to the purpose of the song.
To bring my ideas to life, I collaborated with German cinematographer and artist Dominic Thiel. Dominic is an incredible artist with expertise also in areas like photography, color grading, editing, and graphic design. More importantly, he’s an amazing collaborator and he helped elevate the visual aspect of my project. He understood my vision and worked closely with me to shape it into something even more powerful than I had initially imagined.
What instrument do you use as the foundation to start your musical creations with?
My voice is the foundation of my musical creations. The process often begins with a melody floating in my head, and I let my voice explore it, following a feeling, a theme, or an emotion that I want to dive into—something that has moved or affected me or I am just curious to explore. I use my voice not only to shape melodies but also to create harmonies and rhythmic layers, almost like a percussion instrument. It’s the core tool through which I channel my ideas in the initial stages of songwriting.
Once I have a vocal framework, I typically turn to the piano or guitar to develop the harmonic structure. I add chords and expand the song from there. In the past, I leaned more on the guitar to accompany my voice, but recently, for the project Cellule Stronze, I found myself drawn more to the piano/keyboard, which brought a different texture and atmosphere to the music.
What was the most challenging part of bringing this project to life, from the initial idea to the final recording?
The most challenging part of bringing this project to life was undoubtedly the production phase. It was a major learning experience for me, as I was stepping into new territory and taking on roles I hadn’t fully explored before. The production process required not only technical skills but also a deep understanding of how to shape the sound in a way that matched my vision. There was a lot of trial and error, experimenting with different approaches to capture the emotional essence of the music.
A significant challenge was also working remotely with Stefano. We collaborated entirely online for much of the project, which had its limitations. Communicating creative ideas and making decisions from a distance wasn’t always easy, and it required a lot of trust and patience on both sides. We had to constantly navigate the technical challenges of home recording and remote collaboration and, at times, the distance created delays and made it harder to have the spontaneous, in-the-moment exchanges that happen when you’re in the same room.
However, when we finally met in the studio, for the last stages of the production, the dynamic shifted completely. Being able to work together in person allowed us to refine the project much more efficiently. We could exchange ideas on the spot, and the energy in the room added a new dimension to the process.
It was a demanding process, but also incredibly rewarding as I saw the project grow from an idea to a finished product.
We read:
“Gelo” is the first of eight singles to be released throughout 2024 and 2025, culminating in the concept album “Cellule Stronze” in 2025. Like a book revealing its chapters, each song will be unveiled one at a time.
Can you describe to us more about this because it’s such a unique and exciting idea to bring awareness?
Thank you! I decided to release each song from the album as a single because it allows me to give proper attention to every track and the important themes they explore— such as the physical changes caused by cancer, where the body becomes both a battleground and a stranger to itself, fear of the unknown, 'cancer ghosting,' shifting family dynamics, and more. By unveiling each song over time, I can ensure that each chapter of this story gets the focus and reflection it deserves.
The songs serve as chapters of a larger narrative, milestones in a journey that I am telling through music. Each track encapsulates real-life moments and the challenges faced along the way. The gradual release lets listeners absorb the emotions and themes more fully, creating space for reflection and discussion as each part of the story unfolds.
My goal is to give a voice to those who are navigating this difficult path—to offer comfort to those who feel isolated, and to encourage conversations within a society that often avoids these topics, turning its back on our vulnerability. My mother, like many women, frequently asked herself, "Is it normal to feel this way?" She found relief only by connecting with others who were going through the same. This experience made me realize how important it is to provide a platform for these emotions, to make people feel seen and heard.
For me, creativity is more than personal expression—it's a social practice, a way to connect people through shared experiences and foster deeper understanding. Through my art, I aim not only to explore the emotional landscape but to create a space for collective reflection, encouraging a more empathetic and complete understanding of the human experience. I believe that music and visual art have the power to engage new generations and raise awareness in ways that traditional methods sometimes cannot.
Over the years, I've realized that many people who aren’t directly affected by cancer don't fully grasp the complexity of what it means to battle this illness. Through this project, I wanted to bring these realities to light in my own way.
Was there ever a time when you emotionally felt, “I can’t do this anymore”? How did you find the strength to continue?
There were definitely times when I thought, "I can’t do this anymore." Writing this album while life was happening—especially as my mom faced her illness—meant facing many emotionally intense moments. It often felt overwhelming, especially when her condition worsened. During those times, I questioned whether continuing was healthy for me, as the emotional toll was immense.
The songs are deeply personal, so you develop a powerful connection to them, which can make the process even more challenging. You want them to be exactly as you hear them in your head—musically and technically perfect—but most of the time you have to accept limitations. It’s hard to create that balance when you're so emotionally invested in every note and lyric. You also tend to get very protective. It’s risky because there's little distance between your art and your feelings, but I decided to dive in regardless.
Listening to the songs can still make me emotional. You relive the pain. There’s one track in particular that’s difficult for me to hear sometimes. It was born the day after my mom had a critical health situation, and I truly thought she might not make it. The song came to me like a flood the next day, when thankfully, her condition improved.
That emotional rollercoaster is embedded in the music.The cancer journey is full of ups and downs. It’s easy to get lost in the hard moments, but you have to grab onto the "ups" and honor them. They are where I find my energy. Maintaining hope, staying focused, and keeping going through the difficult times became my mindset.
Ultimately, my strength comes from the love I have for my mom and my motivation to tell this story, not just for her, but for everyone going through something similar. That love and determination keeps me going, even when it feels impossible.
When you reach the stage where you have the admiration and respect of other world-known artists, what band or artist would you love to call and say, “Let’s go on tour together”?
Oh, that’s a tough question! I have so many influences, and it feels impossible to choose just one... but I'll try!
A few years ago, my answer would have been: either Laura Marling, Regina Spektor, or Damien Rice. I would have loved performing in intimate, cozy venues with them and getting the chance to ask them a lot of questions about their creative processes, songwriting, and experiences backstage. Their music speaks to something deep inside me, and that kind of setting would have been perfect for connecting on a personal and artistic level.
But today, my answer has shifted. I feel the pull of energy and physicality in performances, so I’d say either Florence and the Machine or Wolf Alice. Both bring an incredible intensity to their shows that I find electrifying. I’m craving that raw, emotional release on stage—something visceral and powerful.
I imagine doing some hammer vibrato on high notes with Florence, and screaming and grunting with Ellie Rowsell from Wolf Alice backstage. It would be such a rush to share the stage with them and really make some noise together.
Both artists are brilliant, and I think performing with them would be a way to push myself creatively and physically in ways I’ve been yearning for.
Thank you so much for giving me the space to talk about my project. It means a lot to me!
Thank you so much, Francesca Pichierri, we appreciate you taking the time to talk to us!
End Interview
We’re thrilled to have shared this artist's exciting journey with you and to have uncovered such inspiring details about them.
Now click the links below to experience their incredible work firsthand
(we also wanted to give our non-native Italian speakers a chance to experience the full impact of the song by sharing the lyrics as well)
THE CHILL - lyrics (English translation)
Oh, the intuition speaks its name
Oh, the intuition speaks its name
And the chill arrives...
Goosebumps on my tense legs that
that tremble, bare
Distant, they open up a view inside me
that then disappoints us
Your gaze is dark
Your hands frantic
Suddenly, silence
And wrinkles on your forehead
Legs are tense
but it's not because of the cold that
they are trembling, bare
It's not an eclipse
what I see
The veil of mystery
Tears apart
Oh, the intuition speaks its name
Confirmed
By your eyes
The chill
Oh, the intuition speaks its name
Please deny it
In your eyes
The chill
Goosebumps on my tense arms that
that tremble, bare
They meet on my womb and come together in prayer
to gather strength against the fear
What awaits me now?
I stare at a screen
I want you to speak
I've lost my sense of time
Every second lasts a lifetime
Arms are tense
But it's not because of the cold that
they are trembling, bare
It's not an eclipse
what I see
The veil of mystery
Tears apart
Oh, the intuition speaks its name
Confirmed
By your eyes
The chill
Oh, the intuition speaks its name
Please deny it
In your eyes
The chill
Oh, the intuition speaks its name
Confirmed
By your eyes
The chill
Oh, the intuition speaks its name
Please deny it
In your eyes
The chill
Name (The chill, the chill)
Speaks your name (The chill, the chill)
Speaks your name (The chill, the chill)
Speaks your name (The chill, the chill)
How serious
Is the trouble that my womb holds?
You speak
and reality reveals itself
melting this frost away
Check out this latest release and listen to more of Francesca Pichierri on Spotify & YouTube.
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