THE ASTONISHING MODESTY OF INDEPENDENCE Barbara Gogan & Marco Dianese
An interview with the former Passions frontwoman (ssshhhh!! she prefers not to talk about it too much) and her musical partner, Marco Dianese
There are moments when you find yourself interviewing someone who, back in 1981, topped your personal playlist with a track that still resonates deeply today. The temptation is strong to ask far more questions than usual, especially about that period, so rich in vinyl and sonic innovation. But when she replies, you pause, reflect, and conclude that yes—being independent from the very beginning brings with it an innate grace: modesty. A rare quality, largely unknown here, with few exceptions, partly because in Italy, very few records were ever produced that made a significant international contribution to the sound of the '80s. Barbara & Marco—two lives that crossed paths, two generations and very different life experiences brought together by the magic of sound into a single voice.
all pics by Dario Perissutti
This is the second time this month this has happened to me, and once again I find myself opening with a completely off-topic question. Last week I had the chance to interview Peter Murphy, and now here I am again with Barbara Gogan—another artist from a past lived intensely and never truly forgotten. My apologies to Marco Dianese for the abrupt start, but I must seize the opportunity to ask Barbara Gogan—who, for those who’ve forgotten or weren’t yet born, was the voice and guitar of The Passions, a post-punk band that released three essential albums, including Thirty Thousand Feet Over China in 1981, which featured I'm In Love With A German Film Star, a true anthem for many of us. So Barbara, I wonder—do you still recall that time and how you, the creators of our endless listening sessions, experienced that boundless summer of sound, discovery, and, let’s be honest, the destruction of every existing rule?
Barbara: Mirco, seriously! I can barely remember what I had for breakfast. A band is a bit like a marriage, and the breakup was more like “death by a thousand cuts” caused by the music industry. (The '70s and early '80s were definitely not an easy time in the UK for an Irish feminist frontwoman/guitarist, between the Troubles and male ascendancy. I moved to New York in 1983.) I'm happy to say that despite the intensity of those years, we all still love each other.
In fact, when Marco and I were recently in London for some BlueSwan gigs (that’s our band with singer Orsola Fezzi), we met up several times with Claire (Bidwell), and she and David (Agar) came to see us play in Walthamstow. Our last stop, just before heading to the airport, was lunch with Richard (Williams). Back then, music was everything. No one had any money—we just played every day. And there were no rules. My first gig (with The Derelicts, in 1974), I had only had my electric guitar for a week. And it felt amazing to make all that noise.
Let’s jump to the present: how did you meet and decide to create a duo that, since 2020, has released over a dozen singles and two albums? How did your individual musical backgrounds merge in this project?
Barbara: For years, I performed solo, making ambient music using natural sounds I recorded wherever I went—from frogs in northeastern Pennsylvania to birds and lions in Tanzania, to rushing water in the Catskills—and incorporating them into Logic, and later GarageBand, adding my guitar with lots of sound effects and loops.
Before the pandemic, I was the resident composer for the acrobatic dance company LAVA; I created background music for a high-end local restaurant; and I performed solo shows—I even opened for Lene Lovich in 2018 on her European tour. (In fact, Lene just invited Marco and me to open for some of her shows in England this October.)
Then I met Marco at a New Year’s Eve party in 2019/20. We talked about exchanging sound files via email. And then, of course, covid happened, and everything changed. We became part of the same “pod.” He—and sometimes his husband—would come out to my place in the countryside almost every weekend to make music. Our first live gig? The neighbors sat out on the porch with wine in hand, and we played for them for hours. It was magical. The pandemic made so many of us appreciate live music—both hearing it and playing it—even more deeply.
Marco Dianese: I started out young as a DJ at a local radio station—Radio San Donà, in the province of Venice—and playing in clubs and bars around my hometown. My sets were rooted in psychedelic, punk, post-punk, new wave, noise, and electronic music. In the late '90s, I moved to the U.S. and started collaborating more actively with other musicians in the synth scene. That’s when I really immersed myself in experimental sound design, working with synthesizers, Eurorack systems, spring boxes, and contact mic instruments. I built several custom setups, routing them through effect pedals and unconventional signal chains. Barbara and I met at a New Year’s party. After talking about our music projects, something shifted. I was genuinely surprised when she said she wanted to hear what I was working on—I already knew who she was. I mean, Barbara is a real rockstar. Why would someone like her be interested in what a guy from a small town in the Venetian countryside is doing? But that’s Barbara. During the pandemic, we really became part of each other’s lives. I’m so grateful to have her in mine. From the start, it felt like I’d known her forever. We talk every day—sometimes just to hear each other’s voice and chat about nothing.
I love all the stories she tells me about her past. She’ll mention people like Robert, Woody, Lene, or Claire like they’re just old friends. These people are the soundtrack of my youth. And for her, they’re not just names—they’re memories. She tells these stories in a way that makes even rockstars feel human. That’s something I truly love about her.
Your music is hard to categorize. If you had to define it, how would you describe it?
Barbara: I think we both like the term “sonic garden experience,” but that may be because for years, we only played in gardens and fields.
Your journey intersects with the chaotic landscape of New York City. What are a Venetian and an Irishwoman doing in a place once associated with London?
Barbara: To be honest, I left New York many years ago and moved to a small village along the Delaware River. But New York remains my favorite city in the world, and I still feel the need to go there often and tap into its energy.
Marco: I moved to New York in the early 2000s. It’s noisy, chaotic, and a bit wild—but I loved every minute of it from day one. The energy, the opportunities—it’s the perfect city for anyone who’s passionate about any form of artistic expression. There are so many options, so many concerts, so many art shows. And even if you miss something, chances are it’ll come back within a few months or the following year. Living in New York had a huge impact on my creative path. I was constantly surrounded by artists, musicians, and performers from all over the world, each bringing their own unique voice. I dove deeper into experimental sound work, collaborating with other musicians, building custom instruments, and getting actively involved in the DIY synth scene. It was the ideal environment to push boundaries and explore new textures—from raw noise to layered ambient soundscapes. In a way, the city forces you to stay alert and keep evolving.
Two albums released through the independent label Secret Lovers Records. Tell us more.
Marco: I founded Secret Lovers Records in 2017. The idea was simple: to share, give back, and create a space for artists and friends who shared our values. We’ve always been drawn to artists who open minds, spark curiosity, and inspire positive change. Our goal is to help build a future of greater awareness, creativity, and social responsibility.
When we released the first single, Track, by Barbara+Marco, we didn’t hesitate—we put it out under Secret Lovers Records. We weren’t chasing a record deal or any of the usual industry stuff. It just felt natural to do it ourselves, our way.
Let me digress a moment—Marco, what’s it like living as an expat in a city like New York today? And what are the differences with Italy for someone like you working in the independent music scene?
Marco: As I mentioned, New York is a city full of both positive and negative energy—a wild, intense place where, for the first time, I truly felt at home. Of course, like everywhere, you need a job to pay the bills, but art is present on every street corner. The artist community here is incredibly open and supportive. I’ve always felt that New York is a city made for people who don’t quite fit the mold—and that’s something I carry with me, even when things are going well. I left Italy in the late '90s as a young man, and New York gave me opportunities I never could’ve imagined. And it still does. I feel lucky and grateful to be surrounded by a community that supports me in all my wild adventures.
Eikasia: a title that invokes Plato and his divided line. Tell us more.
Marco: The title Eikasia was suggested by my dear childhood friend Dario Perissutti—former drummer of One Dimensional Man. He liked the term Eikasia because one interpretation relates to the visual nature of sound. Barbara and I immediately connected with that idea. On this album, there are moments when the sound truly feels like a painting—abstract, emotional, vivid—something you can almost see as well as hear.
Dario also designed the album cover and took the photos for both the front and back, for both the digital and vinyl editions.
A record with a seemingly psychedelic imprint, but with so much more. The electronic component is essential and interacts beautifully with Barbara’s vocal contributions. There are elements reminiscent of the ‘90s, particularly in the rhythm section when it emerges—calling back to the club culture years. Truthfully, it’s not an “easy” release—complex at times. Can you break it down for us?
Barbara: The “electronic” component consists of layers of Marco’s electronic instruments and beats, combined with multiple tracks of my guitar. I use a lot of sound effects and loops. Often, it’s impossible even for us to tell who’s playing what.
From a technical standpoint, how do you build your tracks? How much of it is acoustic, and how much is electronic?
Marco: Our tracks are a hybrid of analog instruments—like Barbara’s electric guitar and, occasionally, my electric bass—blended with both analog and digital synthesizers. We also use spring boxes with contact microphones to create unique textures. All of these instruments typically run through a combination of analog and digital effects pedals or are processed using virtual plugins. It’s a balance of raw and refined, organic and synthetic. And of course, everything runs through my best friend: Ableton Live.
A question for Barbara: how do you decide how and when to use your voice in a track? I noticed your range even extends into classical, operatic territory.
Barbara: Mirco, I think you might be crediting me with the talents of some far more gifted singers! Honestly, I focus much more on the instrumentation than on vocals. I usually do a single vocal take—mainly as a complement to what we’ve already recorded. And if there are words, I try to make them an integral part of the piece. I do enjoy singing, but I’m not particularly fond of the sound of my own voice. It’s more about: if someone has to sing and there’s no one else around, then I’ll do it.
That said, we’re lucky to work with some amazing vocalists—like the incredible soprano Johanna Moffitt, who sang with us last September in Venice. If you stand next to Johanna while she’s singing, you can literally feel the vibrations of her voice moving through your body! We’re lucky indeed!
If this album is titled Eikasia, the lowest level of Plato’s divided line, will we be witnessing your ascent through the next three: Pistis, Dianoia, and Noesis?
Marco: Great idea, Mirco, thanks for suggesting the titles of our next three albums! LOL
Barbara: Yikes! I’d better catch up on my reading!
Barbara & Marco - Eikasia - Secret Lovers Records (review)
There exists a blurred — yet absolute — point where music, having shed its sonic flesh, begins to turn into vision, mirage, wound. Eikasia, the new voyage (do not call it an album) by Barbara & Marco, moves precisely there: in the delicate slippage between what is heard and what is felt, between the trick of perception and the truth hidden in the folds of the unattainable.
It is a barefoot crossing over raw emotional terrains, a suspended tale that does not clamor for center stage, but conquers it with a sidelong, almost distracted gesture. Barbara’s voice — white chalk against the black of asphalt — scratches gently, then vanishes, leaving only echo and silence. Beside her, Marco traces spaces with sounds like reflected light: electronic caresses filtering through a half-open window, suggesting more than they reveal, wounding without leaving a cut.
Eikasia is a sound body made of pure evocation. A refined exercise in disappearance, an album that speaks in whispers yet etches itself deep beneath the skin. There is no rush here, no nod to instant consumption: everything is built on layering and waiting, surrender and immersion. Every track is a threshold to be crossed, a faint sonic corridor listened to more with the chest than with the ears.
It is music that does not aim to please, but to happen. It does not seek your gaze — it holds it. And by the time you realize you are listening to your own disorientation, you are already inside. Eikasia is there — and it has already moved through you.
BandCamp:
https://barbaramarco.bandcamp.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/barbaraandmarco
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/barbara._marco/
Spotify:
**** La versione italiana dell'intervista la trovate sulle pagine del Blog So What
The Italian version of the interview can be found on the virtual pages of the SoWhat Blog