What’s the deal with the name?
I studied abroad in Rome the summer after my last semester in college. This had been a life-long dream of mine; my parents had brought me to Italy on their belated honeymoon when I was 10 months old, and there were so many stories about that time that delighted me. Beyond that, my dad had once said that Italy was the only place he felt truly himself, and as I was beginning to confront the extent of my depression (which I would learn later on had deep family roots) ‘getting away to discover myself’ felt imperative, as it does for so many at that age. At the time I was performing in a band with my friend Eric Mayson, but had not prioritized music in college and felt I was missing a piece in my life; I hadn’t played the violin in years and was disillusioned by the prospect of pursuing musical theater.
I was walking home from class, and happened by this massive city park, of which there are many in Rome that served as places of solace for me. A short distance away, there was a girl, maybe five years old, wearing a red checkered dress and spinning around in this open, grassy area. She exhibited such palpable joy - the ‘joy of living’ that kids so easily embody. I wanted to be like her - I knew I once was like her - and it got me thinking about what it was that brought me real joy.
It is, and has always been, music. Music has guided and inspired me, calmed and consoled me, nurtured and held me, bolstered and encouraged me - and committing myself to it has brought such adventure into my life. Songwriting, and returning to writing in general, has become vital in processing what is going on in my head, in my body, and in the world. I started writing music then & there under the name ‘Youth in a Roman Field’ in homage to that moment. My depression has by no means left me, but making music is a way to create time and space for joy, connection, and reflection. It’s a language of its own with capabilities for healing beyond so many other things, and is an essential use of my time on earth. - Claire