Creating a Safe Space for Vulnerability with Bryn
Making music isn’t just a job for singer/songwriter Bryn, it’s a part of who she is. The pandemic allowed her to discover who she was as a songwriter and person and as a result, she created a better way of making music. Along with this fresh perspective, also sprung a writing and production team that includes her writing partner and a few others. Now that the pandemic is seemingly in our rear-view, she gives insight into her creative process as well as a few secrets on building worthwhile self-awareness.
Photography by Cass Rudolph
Were you always a songwriter?
I actually started off writing poetry-I was a huge fan of it- which is weird because I don’t know how you could be that big a fan of poetry (laughs). Musically, when I was living in the UK as a kid, my dad would buy me CDs of Avril Lavigne and Leona Lewis and when I heard “Complicated” and “Bleeding Love”, I feel like I really fell in love with music.
So you grew up in London?
My family and I immigrated to Canada when I was 12 years- old, which is around the same time I started transitioning into writing songs. I remember helping my mom clean the dishes one day and I started singing to myself and I remember my mom was asking “whose song is that?” and I very nonchalantly told her it was mine. We spent the rest of that evening writing it out on post-it notes and her recording me singing it on this ancient camcorder - and recently we found that video and it’s appalling! I was this little kid so confident yet so awkward and insecure, it was funny to see how it all started.
It’s crazy to see videos of when you were younger because you realize how much alike you really are to your younger self. How so little and so much has changed.
I think it’s funny because as you grow up you go through phases and you feel sure that you’re a totally different person than you were - but then you look back and realize that on a fundamental level less has changed than you thought.
That realization is so relieving, and I find, when I come to a personal self-realization, my writing immediately after is some of my best work. It’s just the idea of being free flowing that comes from a real place that makes my writing that much better.
And vulnerability is a huge part of making art. I find I end up writing probably 90% sad songs and 10 % happy ones, and I find being vulnerable in a genuinely light space is so much harder. But I also think that we’re taught being in a vulnerable space means being in a negative space and though that is true sometimes, it can be hard (and quite damaging) if you think that. I don’t know the exact reason we feel that way, but I do think about that quite a bit.
I think you have to have a balance when you’re approaching your vulnerabilities because there is a lot of pain coming from that space. It’s so important to have a good support system to help you through those complex emotions, as well as your own self-help techniques like writing. Which I was wondering, what’s your songwriting process like?
When I first started songwriting I was around sixteen years old, I wrote and released music with the help of my mentor Alfred Chow. Those projects were fundamental to my development as an artist and as a writer but I didn’t get into cowriting for other artists until years later. Moving back to Toronto after going to the University of Western Ontario, I threw myself into songwriting camps and even went to Nashville for a camp with NSAI (The Nashville Songwriters Association International). That was such a great experience and so hectic because I knew absolutely nobody and somehow convinced everyone I met to come write songs with me at my airbnb. I went from being a complete stranger to booking sessions for two weeks straight and making lifelong friends and collaborators. Now, there is a general structure to songwriting but it honestly changes artist to artist. During the pandemic myself and my writing partner, Kirstyn Johnson (Aryss) started what would become our writing team together we call Good Grief. We’d like to think that we could write anywhere whether it’s a million-dollar studio or a make-shift rig or in our car. The flow is different every time so managing that is a big part of what we do.
The creativity flow is such a huge part of the process but Covid made it so much harder to create. How was navigating through that creativity during the pandemic?
Actually, I think Covid was a major moment in defining myself as a songwriter. I’d been writing and co-writing full time for roughly a year before Covid hit and really long hours! I’m actually glad the pandemic did what it did because going to the studio at 10 am and leaving at 2 am isn’t sustainable. So, two weeks into the first ever lockdown Kristyn and I were going crazy because we couldn’t connect with anyone and that’s all we ever really wanted to do as songwriters. We eventually set up a writing and production team with our friend Matt Fudge and basically for that first year of the pandemic, we’d reach out to friends and other artists and hop on Zoom and that’s where all of our sessions came from. It’s crazy now because we’d create songs and full records through Zoom without meeting the artists in person; and it’s only now that we’re meeting them which is kind of wild!
“I love what I do so much that I struggle with separating the two. I’m all-consumed with what I do because it’s my outlet, craft, the fabric of my life and how I communicate so there’s really no break from it”
Zoom is a wonderful tool and I’m glad we have it but it’s nothing like being in a studio where the creative juices are constantly flowing. What did you do to ensure that there was still some sort of energy between all of you?
That was tough especially because there’s latency with Zoom so managing the energy in the room becomes that much harder. However, we figured out to foster a safe space for vulnerability we would hop on Zoom thirty minutes before the artist was to arrive just to get a sense of where everyone was at, what their days were like and all of that. That way, when the artist came into the session, we were bringing them into a vibe and there was less of that awkward beginning point.
I love that so much I’m going to start doing that! How do you make someone comfortable in an uncomfortable setting? By making sure you’ve done your due diligence in fostering a space for those delicate energies to be taken care of.
Totally! I remember when I first came to Toronto, I was working with this awesome producer, who was the first one to really talk to me about energy. And however you choose to create, and whatever flow state you’re in, it’s so important to be aware of energies and I found that so illuminating. So, I’ve taken that with me and funny enough many of the people I’ve worked with have that same unspoken approach and understanding.
You hear musicians talk about manifestations all the time but really it just goes back to the basic principle of you get what you give. Although at times it could be tough, if you’re putting in the time, effort, and care then something good is bound to happen. As a songwriter, does it ever get too tough to write some of your songs because they’re so personal?
A very good friend of mine once told me that if I’m not embarrassed about something I’ve written then I haven’t written something vulnerable enough. I wrote my first full album “Freefall” when I was sixteen and in love for the first time, I then wrote “Gone” when that relationship ended and “Tempest” in the midst of trying to find empowerment in a toxic relationship. I think when you’re in an unhealthy relationship in your youth, you’re trying to figure out how to tackle such complex emotions for the first time sometimes and trying to speak frankly and candidly about that can be quite intimidating.
I came across a quote that read, “You don’t know how toxic a situation is until you breathe fresher air.” It’s hard to get out of that cycle once you’re in it, but if you can pull yourself away then it’s super rewarding because you’re taking control back of your own life.
That’s where songwriters come in and it’s a lot like therapy because an artist will come in with a certain emotion that they think from one specific instance, but when you start to pull at the threads you quickly realise it’s usually something bigger. If you’re able to take it a couple steps deeper, it becomes more relatable and human which is why vulnerability is so powerful as it connects us as people.
One of the many things that Covid taught us is to take a good, long look in the mirror to figure out who and what we really are. You seem to have a good sense of self as your musical influences sound like they range from Lorde, Of Monsters and Men, Florence and the Machines, to even Metric. Do you pull from any of those?
I love all of them! I actually covered “Yellow Light” by Monsters and Men at a high school talent show but the real kicker is I mashed it up with an Eminem song (Laughs)! I actually have Florence’s poetry book and on the back, there’s a quote that goes something like, “When I’m making music I can never tell if it’s a memory or a premonition, and sometimes it ends up being both.” I always think about that because as we get older meanings change as we do. When I wrote “Making Monsters” it’s about anxiety but it was pre- pandemic, so I didn’t even know what was to come in the few years after.
Wow that’s deep! We talked about that flow state, and it’s almost like you’re speaking things into existence. Although I do believe you need a work-life balance otherwise you’ll burn out and it’ll be much harder to get into a groove. When you’re creating you need time away from your art so you could think clearly for when you’re back at it.
With me, I love what I do so much that I struggle with separating the two. I’m all-consumed with what I do because it’s my outlet, craft, the fabric of my life and how I communicate so there’s really no break from it. Inspiration can come knocking at any time and you have to be ready since it’s like a muscle that you have to keep working out. You have to let that flow state happen when it happens regardless of what’s going on and somehow balance that with breaks so you can cultivate a healthy space to create in - it’s hard.
When that creative spark hits you have to ride that wave or else you could miss an opportunity and it’s hard to get back into a groove. It’s also got to come naturally, so I’m wondering how important you think health and wellness is to being a musician?
There’s this negative stereotype in music that says the only art you could make is from a dark place. Don’t get me wrong some great work comes from that place but it’s just not sustainable to be in that dark place constantly. You’re already battling an industry that doesn’t have a 9-5 schedule, so it only makes it tougher if you’re not in the right headspace. Healthy habits like get- ting enough sleep, exercise, taking small breaks, and I’m a huge advo- cate for therapy are super important for wellness.
With social media being a driving force in culture nowadays, you’re seeing the negative and positive effects of it on people’s wellness. As an artist, how do you view the platform?
Well, I think with anything there’s two sides it just depends on how you look at and use it; social media is incredibly detrimental to people’s mental health and it’s also an incredibly powerful tool - it’s both. Things are changing so rapidly with the help of platforms like TikTok, that are completely redefining the music industry and other industries alike, so I try to look at it as a dynamic ever-changing landscape with a lot of opportunity. As well as trying to be mindful of my time spent on them and realizing how overwhelming it is for independent artists to navigate.