Macie Stewart is one of those artists who is seemingly everywhere. As a multi-instrumentalist, composer, songwriter, and improviser, she has collaborated with a distinguished roster that includes Makaya McCraven, Japanese Breakfast, Tweedy, Alabaster DePlume, and SZA, to name a few. Stewart’s versatile artistry is further apparent in her debut album Mouth Full of Glass (2021, Orindal Records), which is replete with lush orchestrations, poetic vocals, and cozy melodic hooks.
For her newest release, When the Distance is Blue (Mar. 21, International Anthem), Stewart sets aside her indie-singer-songwriter hat and returns to her more experimental musical roots in the Chicago contemporary classical scene. By situating elements such as prepared piano, field recordings, and drones within unexpected approaches to form and composition, Stewart unifies the album with a dynamic musical language.
When the Distance is Blue features soothing timbral washes, percussive hooks, and reverb-saturated vocals that are at once comfortingly familiar and refreshingly different. Tracks like “Stairwell (Before and After)” evoke a contemplative stillness with an expansive sound palette, while busier tracks such as “What Fills You Up Won’t Leave an Empty Cup” host a flurry of activity with pizzicato strings and pointillistic piano. Stewart describes the album as “a love letter to the moments we spend in-between”–– a sentiment that rings true in the album’s musical language and execution.
We caught up with Stewart before the March 21 album release to ask her five questions about experimentation, collaboration, and liminal moments.
When the Distance is Blue is quite a departure from the indie singer-songwriter vibes of your debut record Mouth Full of Glass. What has it been like returning to your more experimental roots with this release?
When the Distance is Blue can seem like a departure, and I suppose in many ways it is, but it’s also part of this larger thread of my creative process. Throughout my work with Finom, as a solo artist, as a duo with Lia Kohl and with other bands I create with, I always try to use improvisation and exploration as a main part of the compositional process. I would say that my solo record and my work with Finom comes from an experimental place, but the difference is that it’s rooted in songwriting, and so whatever sonic world is created exists to serve the song. It was really freeing to start from a more nebulous place with this record, with the concept of prepared piano as the only jumping off point.
I feel more rooted in the fact that this record began with my first instrument, piano, and the one I’ve spent the most hours alongside. By altering it with coins and felt and playing it through pedals and other tools I’ve typically used on guitar- it changed the way I approached the instrument and allowed me to enter a new creative space. I feel a bit more confident in my process through making this record, but also so excited about the future worlds that are opening themselves up to me through its making.
You are an artist with an exceptionally diverse skillset – one that you often put to use with a huge roster of collaborators. Can you tell us about how collaboration factors into your broader artistic practice?
Collaboration is honestly just one of my favorite things. For a long time it was the main way I socialized with people – and because of that I had to go through a process of making things alone and learning myself within and outside of that. I think it’s really important to give yourself space to make things on your own, and allow yourself to run wild with that in between collaborations.
That being said, I feel like my experience of art is so relational – it does not exist in a vacuum. By making things with others I have the ability to allow myself and others a mirror into myself. I can’t imagine a better way to connect and see into different modes of existence and practice empathy in a major way.
Macie Stewart — Photo by Shannon Marks
I think my collaborations have allowed me to relate to people in a deep way. One of my favorite recent collaborations was with my friend and incredible choreographer, Robyn Mineko Williams. She was so open and granted me access to her grandmother’s home, recordings of her family, and interviews from her family archive and allowed me to make these into building blocks for a fully immersive site specific piece called “Hisako’s House.” Its one of my favorite projects I’ve ever been a part of, and the way we collaborated allowed me to discover so much about her and her family history, but also gave me new tools for how I want to make things going forward.
My collaborations feel like marriages and partnerships to me. We are always ebbing and flowing in our relationship to each other, and allowing space to experience all that life has to offer alongside that allows for a deeper and richer artistic exploration. Whether it’s something goofy and just for the fun of it, a deeply personal song, or something that is more heady and conceptual – it is all fed by my relationship to the world and others.
You create some really fun and unusual sounds from things like prepared piano and field recordings on this album. How do you go about developing a sonic palette when working on a new project?
I was approached by International Anthem about making a record – and I immediately knew where I wanted to start. I began playing piano when I was 3 years old and took lessons until I was 20. I stepped away from it for a while because it was hard to find myself in it. Since I spent so many hours of my life playing it and practicing it, I wanted to fuck with it and make it less familiar to me. I wanted to see what would happen if I gave myself this parameter of familiarity but altered it in an intentional way to see where my instincts would take me. It honestly made me fall back in love with the piano.
When I’m making a record I feel like I start with one parameter or interest – like… with the most recent Finom record we wanted to sit in a groove together, with my first solo record I wanted to see what happened if I made myself play all the parts myself, with “Pocket Full of Bees” we wanted to challenge ourselves to create improvisations that were 5 minutes or less, etc etc etc. I think it’s fun and creatively fulfilling to create a loose guideline for the initial direction and see what comes from it. I try not to overthink it and go with my first gut idea.
I’m so intrigued by your description of this album as “a love letter to the moments we spend in-between.” What do these moments mean to you, and how do you explore them in this album?
I was so moved by this book by Rebecca Solnit called “A Field Guide to Getting Lost”. I read it a few times over, and gave it to a few friends of mine as a gift. The moments in between represent a lot of different things to me. I can get pretty caught up in the end goal of a thing, or panic at all the choices and pathways that are available in life, so this record was an intentional practice of patience and space, and taught me how to sit and listen.
Macie Stewart — Photo by Shannon Marks
I often struggle with grey area in my own life, but I find that when I accept my own internal contradictions and sit with them or just let them move through me I feel more fulfilled and find more richness in my life. It’s the spaces in between where we were and where we are going that have some of the juiciest parts of existing, and it’s easy (especially now) to miss them.
Can you tell us about one or two other projects from your portfolio that encapsulate what your work is about in 2025?
I want to make music with my friends! That’s my ultimate goal for the future and for always. Finom has some fun dreams up our sleeves, like a new run of Full Bush and other related performance projects. In the meantime I’m continuing my collaborations with people like Lia Kohl and Whitney Johnson, and working on a new solo record of song material with a band.
I CARE IF YOU LISTEN is an editorially-independent program of the American Composers Forum, and is made possible thanks to generous donor and institutional support. Opinions expressed are solely those of the author and may not represent the views of ICIYL or ACF.
You can support the work of ICIYL with a tax-deductible gift to ACF. For more on ACF, visit composersforum.org.