Ukrainian singer FEIA: My Stage Name Is More Like My Spiritual Name, Because It Resonates With My Essence

FEIA is a Ukrainian singer who feels a deep connection to nature and believes that her defining quality is her sense of magic. For her, FEIA is not just an image — it’s who she truly is. She brings all her emotions and the breath of a forest fairytale into her music.

FEIA opened up with Drive Music Media about the beginning of her musical journey, honesty in music, and the meanings she weaves into her songs.

Interviewer: Can you tell us how your stage persona came about, what inspired it, and why you chose a forest and magical theme?

FEIA: There wasn’t a specific moment when it happened. At some point, I just had the thought that I didn’t want to use my own name — I wanted something new.

I’ve always been connected to nature, ever since I was a child. We had, you could say, a Ukrainian “summer house,” and I spent my entire childhood there.

So I always had this special kind of conversation with the trees; there were flowers, and I was always doing something with them. The idea of a fairy came to me naturally. But I never wanted to name myself after anyone in particular.

I had this kind of internal “fight” with myself, because it felt like it was a living being — I didn’t want to tie it to a specific person. Then I realized that a fairy is a more abstract concept; it doesn’t have to be a literal creature.

A fairy can be anything. It can combine different things: elements, goddesses, various forms — all at once. And I can be there, and on my own, and all of it together at the same time.

I came to the thought that the name sounds cool and I like it — it resonates with me, which means it’s right for me. Then people started saying it sounded magical, and I realized, yes, it really does sound beautiful.

I call it more my spiritual name, because it resonates with my essence. I spent a long time thinking about how to feel it properly, but it didn’t work — it wasn’t right. And then it all happened naturally, and I realized the persona came on its own.

Interviewer: Tell us about your technique and how your song ideas are born in general. What usually comes first — the music or the lyrics?

FEIA: I wouldn’t say I have a specific technique, to be honest. Maybe it sounds unprofessional, but for me, everything comes from the soul — from what I truly feel.

When a song is being born, I don’t try to give it structure or form right away. It all takes shape naturally in the process. Trying to make it sound “right,” like a song should sound — that’s not something I enjoy. It wouldn’t feel like mine anymore.

Structure itself feels like something artificial to me — that idea of what’s “correct.” I’m not into that.

When I write, it always comes from the information or energy that’s already within me. So, did I ever specifically study how to shape songs in a certain way? No.

My story with music is that I started, then stopped, thought it wasn’t for me — and eventually came back to it. So I never had any deep professional training on how to “do it properly.”

If I like a certain sound, I use it. I might hum something in my headphones and think, “Oh, that’s cool, I can make something out of this.”

So there’s nothing particularly methodical about it. This form — it’s just my own language.

Songs are a language of their own, really. You can never fully learn it — you just have to feel it and speak it.

So when I create or write something, it always comes straight from the moment, from within myself. If I catch a sound right then — that’s it, it stays that way. I won’t change it.

Because once you start overthinking it, you lose the truth of it. It’s like that first thought you get — it’s always the right one. It’s always the one people need to hear.

I truly believe that whatever I write, whatever I put into my songs, someone out there needs to hear it. And if it came out that way, it means it was meant to be that way.

Interviewer: How did your journey in music begin?

FEIA: I actually started by taking vocal lessons. I didn’t really have a voice or even a sense of rhythm back then, so my parents thought it would be a good idea to send me to classes — just to help me develop that. Honestly, I never imagined I’d ever sing anywhere or perform. That thought never crossed my mind.

I was just a kid who wanted to try everything — travel, dance, maybe even become a ballerina. So I can’t say that music was my whole life back then. I took lessons until I was about twelve, and then I stopped completely for several years. It wasn’t until about a year ago that I came back to it — this time fully aware that it was truly mine.

For almost five or six years, I didn’t do anything related to music. Back in childhood, it was just something my parents encouraged me to do. I didn’t yet know how much it would mean to me. I used to write poems, I loved playing instruments, and I always wanted to experiment. I dreamed of playing the violin — that always fascinated me — but I never pictured myself on stage.

When I started writing songs, something inside me woke up. It happened when the war began. Music became my therapy — my antidepressant. I poured all my emotions and experiences into it, and I realized it truly helped me heal. Later, it grew into something bigger — it started helping me beyond just processing the war. That’s how I arrived where I am now. The main push to truly dedicate myself to music came from everything happening around me.

Interviewer: What about the very first song you ever wrote — not the poems you mentioned, but a fully formed song? What was it about? And did you feel ready to share it with someone, to let others hear it?

FEIA: I used to sing even before the war. It all started slowly — not on a big scale, but the thoughts were there, and I began to write them down. I can’t really recall one specific song from that time. They didn’t quite feel like me. I was trying to follow a certain structure, to make everything sound “right,” the way it’s popular now.

But because of that, I can’t even call those early songs truly mine. The lyrics were mine, yes, but the essence wasn’t. I was still learning, searching for myself. And that’s completely fine — I accept that stage and I’m grateful for it.

If I had to point out one song where everything really began, it would be “Zlamani” (ed. — “Broken”). That’s the one that marked the real start for me.

My first album actually started with that song. It was right when the war began, and the song was written about those events. It’s a very special song for me.

I never really promoted it. There’s nothing particularly polished about it. I recorded it in the mountains in Poland, just using iPhone headphones. I uploaded it, and that was it. I needed to let it go. I’ve never performed it anywhere.

It’s a very painful song. I feel like if I ever tried to sing it now, I’d start crying. It’s very intense. I think everything really started from that song.

Interviewer: You mentioned that you recorded it in the mountains. I’m just trying to picture it. Was it a spontaneous decision? Did you go there specifically to record, or was it more of an impulse?

FEIA: I didn’t have any equipment when I started recording. We had just arrived in Poland after leaving Ukraine, like so many others. Some kind people helped us with housing, and we literally stayed in the mountains. I spent a lot of time walking.

I was a bit depressed at that time, and music was what saved me. I didn’t really want to talk much, but expressing everything through music helped me a lot. I loved walking, going into the mountains a little. Since we were already there, on the mountains, that’s why I say I sang there. And I just brought myself along.

Interviewer: Let’s talk about your fantasy concert. What was the preparation process like? Which songs were included, and how did the audience respond? Also, what does a live performance mean to you, especially as someone so closely connected to nature and energy — I imagine the energetic feedback is very important to you. How did it all feel, both technically and emotionally?

FEIA: First of all, I was invited to the fantasy concert. Nastya — now my friend — we met on Instagram, and we started collaborating. Regarding the concert, we became friends, and she invited me.

I didn’t even have a clear picture of what it should look like technically. They just told me it was “fantasy,” and that was enough. I already knew it would be something very magical, and that’s exactly what I love.

The whole fantasy world — dragons, magic — that’s all I need. I connect with it very easily.

At first, we thought I would only perform one song. But in the end, three songs from my new album made it into the setlist: “Bizhymo”, “Zmiyi”, and “Chuzhi Zori”. They fit the atmosphere perfectly and were very emotional.

Those songs fit the atmosphere perfectly and were very emotional.

"Bizhymo" is more… when I was writing it, it wasn’t about the phrase as a word, but about it as a being. I don’t know why, but it came to me that when we’re running from something, that “something” is like a creature. That song was emotional too, because the story of the fantasy concert was about people who had forgotten their roots, and one person decided to search for them. From beginning to end, it was the journey of that hero, looking for his own notes, the notes of his roots.

The first song was very emotional because people are afraid, they run, they don’t want to see, they don’t want to even talk about what’s happening in the world right now. So many people just turn away. And I think it’s very important — we need to speak about it, we need to shout, not just talk, so that everyone hears us.

The second song was “Chuzhi Zori” (ed. — “Foreign Stars”). It’s personal for me because I wrote it after learning that my best friend died in the war. Why “Foreign Stars”? Because I believe that everyone has their own stars, and we can address them, but we don’t have the right to ask someone else’s stars for anything. In the song, I sing, “Stars, why don’t you hear me? Why do you listen but don’t act?” We all pray for our friends, acquaintances, those who are at war, but only their stars can decide what will happen to their fate and their lives.

This song was also a bit painful for me, and it fit the atmosphere of the concert because even with someone else’s stars, we can communicate, we can ask questions, but they remain theirs.

The last song was very energetic — “Zmiyi” (ed. — “Snakes”). In my little universe, we just call it Snakes. It’s a more energetic song about moving forward, no matter what. Even if someone behind you says you won’t succeed, that you’re not good enough, or anything like that, you keep going through your own forest, your own sea, your own mountains — everyone has their own world. You keep moving, knowing that the stars, the world, and even the gods — whoever you believe in — are behind you.

Pictures were taken from official social networks of FEIA