Now creating a buzz at 27-years-old, Toronto singer-songwriter Carmela Antonio has dropped all preconceived notions of where the industry might take her. Instead, she’s letting her instincts lead the way.

By Roseline Mouana

Toronto is a hub for emerging talent where many believe they must fit a formula to find success. But success has many definitions. After a debut EP that went unnoticed and a personal loss that helped reaffirm her identity, singer-songwriter Carmela Antonio is charming listeners with a more authentic approach developed on her own terms.

Antonio admits to once having a skewed perception of herself and of what success means to her. For this artist, fame no longer equals greatness. She recommends: “Embrace who you are in your entirety. Tragedy has granted me the freedom of being, a freedom of thinking.”

In other words: “Fuck it, I will show you the complexity of who I am and what my art is.”

Such is the power of music.

Antonio and bandmates Oscar Domingez (percussions) and Joel Joseph (keyboard) offer a seamless fusion of R’n’B and indie pop mixed with dub, hip-hop, and world beats.

Antonio has eclectic taste in music. She listens to Santigold, Feist, Lily Allen, Miike Snow, Lykke Li, and Julian Casablancas. She also enjoys Brazilian funk, folk, alternative, and electronic, as well as jazz giants Louis Armstrong, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, and Billy Holiday. Pop music in the 1990s was also inspiring. She grew up to TLC, Spice Girls, and Janet Jackson. She also mentions Nina Simone: “She is raw, real, and honest. She is amazing.”

Inspired by many sources, Antonio’s sound is hard to define, and she prefers it that way.

“I don’t want to be labeled,” she says. “I would like to release a jazz album without it sounding weird to anyone.”

Joseph, by the way, is Nelly Furtado’s keyboard player. His time is obviously limited but Antonio wants to make the most of it. “There is a momentum right now,” says Antonio, “There’s a buzz ... It’s exciting.”

This buzz was long in the making. Antonio’s debut EP, released in 2008, went largely unnoticed.

“I was not ready,” explains the petite singer with a powerful voice. “When you evolve as a person, your approach to life also changes. So this also has had an impact on my music.”

After releasing her second EP, Paper Dolls, in August 2011, Antonio accepted an invite to perform on the open stage of Elvis Mondays at Toronto’s Drake Hotel. Less than 10 people took in her midnight slot in January but she was convincing enough to get a second booking a few weeks later—this time to a full house.

Then came a tipping point. One of the audience members was The Lonely Vagabond, an anonymous yet influential Toronto arts blogger. The Vagabond’s glowing praise for Antonio launched a word-of-mouth and social media whirlwind, leading to the establishment of key contacts, bookings at the Horseshoe Tavern, Supermarket, and The Rivoli, as well as an upcoming appearance on Rogers Television on April 6.

See what defying formulas can do?

There certainly was no ready-made formula for dealing with the life lessons Antonio encountered; the change began when her grandfather, Napoleon V. Dilag, passed away in December 2011.

Born in the Philippines under her grandparents’ care, Antonio moved to Canada with her parents and two brothers at age four. Her grandfather meant the world to her; she called him Tatay, a Filipino expression for “father.”

“He was incredible,” Antonio says. “There was so much love. Life with him was simple.”

A lawyer and a rebel against the Ferdinand Marcos regime, Dilag lived under the constant threat of imprisonment or execution.

“He was never stressed and never showed any signs of fear,” said Antonio. “He was just a warm, devoted family man who eventually became a judge in the 1990s.”

Seeing her grandfather via Skype on a hospital bed in the Philippines broke Antonio’s heart. She applied for an emergency passport and flew to be by his side. During a moment alone with him, the look in her grandfather’s eyes had a life-affirming effect.

“In that moment, I understood that I meant the world to him,” Antonio recalls. “I understood my value … This caused me to re-evaluate my connections with people.”

When Antonio’s parents separated two years ago, she grew apart from her family, but her grandfather’s death moved her to reconnect with her mother and brothers. She realized that in her self-isolated silence, she had turned her back on her own family.

“The acceptance of others equals the acceptance of yourself,” the singer discovered.

Antonio’s producer Diego Las Heras is a great friend. He recently passed on the wisdom that when you lose someone, a part of them reawakens in you and offers you a new path closer to your true self.

By taking this path, Antonio has evolved from self-pity to self-realization.

“If you want to do something, do it,” she urges. “I don’t need a manager, a record label, and a thousand likes on Facebook to be me.”

Antonio’s passion for authenticity extends to her idea of femininity; one that’s rooted in admiration for fashion icons Coco Chanel, Audrey Hepburn, and Jackie Onassis.

“They were women of class and integrity,” Antonio says. “Society has redefined hot and sexy where you are no longer fully clothed to be a lady. What happened?”

The loss of her grandfather granted Antonio a lightness of being; she now has no expectations and wants to explore that. “Pop music has become a monster,” she explains. “You don’t have to be a textbook pretty girl with an amazing voice to follow your dreams. I want to stop this pursuit toward perfection and confusing fame for success.”

This newfound freedom extends to the stage, where Antonio shares her passion completely while feeling firmly grounded.

“Being on stage, being in the moment, is pure magic,” she says. “When I perform, I can forget who I am while being exactly who I am. It’s like an electric current where nothing shakes you and you can just be yourself.”

Antonio is currently writing songs for her next recording while promoting Paper Dolls. She is planning a mini tour in Ottawa and Montreal this summer.

Now that she is allowing her music to be a true reflection of herself, we get the feeling that that Antonio may be limitless.

She is the kind of person who at the drop of a hat, will burst into song in front of a New York City subway. She actually did this a few months ago; stomping her feet and rocking to the beat as busy New Yorkers shuffled through. Antonio’s inner fortitude conveys such presence and command that spectators hardly noticed she stands only 5’1” tall. More than ever before, when she sings, she is in a zone where what others think has absolutely no importance. “Life is a reflection of ourselves,” she concluded.

Roseline Mouana is an Ottawa-based writer. Thomas Dagg is a freelance photographer working out of Toronto.