Quite apart from her journey from Costa Rica’s capital, San Jose, where she grew up, to Germany’s capital, Berlin, where she’s lived the last two years, the road that led SOFI PAEZ to SILENT STORIES is a distinctly unusual one. Filled with peaks, perils and pitfalls, incorporating coincidence, perseverance and, inevitably, talent, it culminates with a bewitching, enriching debut album which marks the pianist, singer and composer’s status as the first signing to award-winning composer and producer Ólafur Arnalds’ OPIA Community.

Whether pining for a lost friend on the heart-wrenching “Por qué” or for childhood innocence on the tumbling “Waves”, whether finding contentment in “Amsterdam”’s yearning or comfort in the shadows of “1123” – recorded the day it was written, then tweaked for the album – SILENT STORIES introduces a universe both crepuscular and luminous. Opening with ‘New Beginnings’, a hushed, even tentative mingling of murmured vocals and solitary piano chords, it also highlights both her magical technique and delicate melodic ear, not least on “What Remains”. “Hammers”, meanwhile, takes us back to the first piece she ever released when the urge to compose for herself ultimately, unexpectedly overwhelmed her. If, however, the album ends with the ethereal “Here Again”, its tender whispers set to shimmering piano, don’t be fooled by this apparent sweetness. “I mean, listen to the fucking lyrics,” PAEZ laughs. “They’re, like, begging, ‘Don’t leave me!’”

In keeping with such contradictions, it’s initially a little tricky to reconcile the PAEZ one meets with the PAEZ of SILENT STORIES. Though sometimes she’s quiet, not unlike much of her music, she’s generally cheerful, full of positive energy, in contrast to these eleven, intimate piano-led pieces filled with doubt, nostalgia, longing and love. Still, listen to them a while and – though there’s a steely determination at the heart of her sensitivity – you’ll find glimmers of beauty and hope amid the introspection. Talk to PAEZ for a while, too, and you’ll get gentle hints of what lingers behind her sunny demeanour, lending her music its darker shades. This is, after all, a woman born three months prematurely – the fourth of, eventually, six children and the tiniest of the family so far – whose earliest memories include rescuing bugs from drowning in a swimming pool.

“The ones that made it, I was so happy,” she reminisces. “I was like, ‘I saved this bug!’ The ones that didn’t, I’d make them graves in the backyard with flowers. I guess I was a very intense kid, with my emotions always extreme, either very energetic and happy or very sad and dramatic. I don’t know… I was just strange.”

PAEZ was still two when her parents divorced, and subsequently shuttled between her successful cosmetologist mother and a father who worked in finance. “I think I lived in twenty different places during my childhood,” she sighs. “My dad divorced a few times, and there were many moves and many people coming in and out of my life.” Fortunately, this self-taught guitarist introduced her to music, wandering from room to room as he sang and played the likes of The Beatles and The Bee Gees, as well as, among other things, Brazilian music. “There was a musician called Lulu Santos,” she grins, “and we would watch his MTV Unplugged every weekend.” Her father’s interests, nonetheless, weren’t confined to pop. “I remember his Beethoven collection,” she continues. “When he put on one of the symphonies I was completely blown away.”

Encouraged further by her mother, she began piano as well as ballet lessons, exposing her to more classical music. “Then came a point where I had to choose,” PAEZ recalls, “but I didn’t know if I actually liked to dance or if it was the music. And the reason I chose music was weird. One day my father was on a plane and realised he was sitting beside the Minister of Culture. He told him I liked to play piano and was advised to send me to the Instituto Superior de Artes. So I turned up for an audition, and when they asked me why, I told them, ‘I want to be a professional pianist.’ My dad was like, ‘Wait, since when?’ but the moment I’d heard students playing I’d made my decision. Apparently, I was terrible, but they had one spot left and took me!”

Before long, PAEZ’ dedication and determination were winning awards, but three days after she graduated, she presented her teacher with a framed picture and some chocolates, announcing she was quitting. The lifestyle didn’t suit her, the training style was abrasive, and she was still cripplingly shy on stage. She began teaching the instrument instead, as well as studying design, and for a year didn’t even touch her piano. She did, however, join renowned producer Askjell’s Discord server, eager to learn more about production, and it was here she made a friend who wanted to learn piano in the style of Nils Frahm, Ólafur Arnalds and Hania Rani. “And I’m like, ‘Who?’” she laughs. “That music didn’t get to Costa Rica at all, so I was blown away again. And then something really strange happened. I started composing.”

Eventually PAEZ sent her music to Askjell, who responded gratifyingly rapidly. “He was like, ‘Sofi, what the fuck? Quit studying graphic design! Just do music!’ And you know what? I was crazy enough to do it. I’d already done three years but I didn’t even finish the design course.” So impressed was the producer of Aurora and Sigrid that he invited her to Norway to join him in the studio, and when another online friend invited her to swing by Berlin, she took up the offer on the way back from Bergen. Over five days, she not only joined her new pal’s band but also decided to relocate, moving to Germany in the summer of 2022.

By this point, PAEZ had already released her early version of ‘Hammers’, inspired by her love of Philip Glass, and another track, ‘Diciembre’, as well as contributing to a Piano Day compilation. ‘Preludio’ followed in 2022, by when she’d also begin chatting with Ólafur Arnalds on his OPIA Discord server, where she became its moderator – if only because her Spanish helped her filter out infiltration by a drug dealer – and quietly shared ‘Circles’, her next release. “Then one day, months later, I get a message from OPIA: ‘We want to speak with you.’ I’m like, ‘What have I done?!’ I was fucking terrified!”

It turned out not only were they inviting PAEZ to perform at their intimate Berlin launch but also wanted her for their new label. Before she knew it, she’d entered the studio with producer Miguel Murrieta Vásquez who, alongside modern classical luminaries Ben Lukas-Boysen and Lisa Morgenstern, provided occasional instrumental assistance. “I needed someone who could really understand me,” she says. “When I speak Spanish, you get the true me. Miguel and I had been friends some time, and I was really excited. Finally, I could do this, these pieces I’ve been saving for years. Then my grandma passed away. It opened so many wounds. I’d lost my best friend some years ago, and one of my fears when I moved was losing people when I’m not there. I was so homesick. It was fucking hard. But this grieving is an important part of the album.”

Indeed, PAEZ’ character is stamped throughout her debut, illuminating compositions which simultaneously allow her to express parts of herself that otherwise she might fear sharing. What once seemed incongruous, then, provides the very essence of what makes her and her music so very special: the balancing of conflicting emotional needs and the harmony in their reconciliation. “It’s very difficult for me to open up,” PAEZ concludes of this haunting collection. “I’m super introverted. I’m afraid of telling people too much. Every time I meet someone, they’re like, ‘You’re such a bright person!’ and I’m like, ‘OK, thanks, but it’s fucking dark in my head!’ So these are the SILENT STORIES that I carry with me every day…”