Metal, Hardcore, Indie, Rock
Italian black metal band Bianca released their debut album last October. The band originated in 2024 from a series of demos composed by β and Ͷ. ES (Hideous Divinity, Patristic) joined in, reshaping the songs and giving the band a new form. Sathrath (Nocturnal Depression) joined the final recording sessions, bringing with him a powerful black metal touch. Chaoszine decided to get acquainted with the emerging band, with vocalist β answering the call.
Hello, Bianca! How’s it going and who will be answering our questions?
β: Hello Chaoszine, this is β, vocalist of Bianca, answering on behalf of the band. Kiitos paljon kutsusta!
Since you are a relatively new band, let’s start with the basics: What inspired the formation of the band, and how did the original lineup come together?
β: Bianca took shape at the end of 2024 around me, β, and Ͷ. In the beginning, there was no intention of forming a band in the conventional sense. Rather, it was the emergence of a collective driven by the need to shape a deeply personal and uncompromising musical language, one rooted in black metal, yet equally drawn to atmosphere, contrast, and the pull of the unconscious. What we do has always come from an inner necessity before anything else, and that remains the core of the band today. At first, what existed were raw structures, riffs, atmospheres, and emotional tensions naturally gravitating toward extreme metal. After years of living this music intensely, not only as listeners, but as people profoundly shaped by its language and worldview, the need arose to step into that space actively and truthfully. With the arrival of ES, who also took on the role of in-house producer, the project gained a more defined sonic architecture, while Sathrath completed the line-up by bringing a stronger physical and rhythmic dimension to the music. In that sense, Bianca did not arise from strategy or calculation, but almost inevitably, as the natural continuation of a journey that had already been unfolding for years.
Did you have a clear vision of where you wanted to take the band musically, or did it develop later?
β: From the outset, we had a very clear foundational impulse: we wanted to play black metal without compromise, and without resorting to artificial hybridization. At the same time, the true identity of the band revealed itself gradually. Once the line-up was complete, the music began to assume a more precise body, a stronger sense of direction, and a deeper internal coherence. There were several moments in which it felt as though the material itself was guiding us. Rather than forcing a predetermined shape onto the project, we tried to listen carefully to what the songs required, to what the sound was becoming on its own terms. So yes, there was a vision from the start, but part of Bianca’s essence also emerged through the process of surrendering to that evolution.
Your self titled debut album was released last October. What was the feedback like? Anything unexpected?
β: The response to the album has been intense and, in certain ways, beyond what we expected. What meant the most to us was not simply that the record was well received, but that listeners seemed to grasp its emotional and conceptual depth. Bianca is not built solely on sound; it is built on atmosphere, tension, descent, and interior dissonance. To feel that people connected with that dimension was profoundly meaningful. What surprised us most was the depth of that connection. This is not an album that seeks to comfort or explain. It moves through dream states, instability, and fracture. Yet many listeners recognized something of themselves within it, and that confirmed for us that when music is honest, even its darkest or most elusive layers can become shared experience.
Did any of your members’ other projects have an influence on the writing process, or was Bianca approached more like a blank slate to work on?
β: Some of us come from significant experiences within extreme metal, and naturally that background informed the way we approached the work. We brought with us intensity, discipline, rigor, and a certain radical commitment to detail. But with Bianca, there was also a very conscious desire to step beyond recognisable formulas and established identities. So while this was not a “blank slate” in any absolute sense, it was certainly a space in which each of us chose to place something more personal, less codified, and less confined by the logic of previous projects. What emerged was not the extension of a past experience, but a shared terrain in which different sensibilities could meet and transform into something collective.
The band describes itself as “oneiric black metal.” Dreams and the unconscious are central to the debut album’s concept. What drew you to that thematic territory, and how did it shape the music itself? Is it a theme you’ll stick with in the future?
β: Dreams and the unconscious are central to Bianca because they represent a territory in which meaning appears without passing through rational order. In dreams, things reveal themselves in distorted, symbolic, unstable forms. They anticipate, conceal, fracture, and expose all at once. That territory has always felt deeply true to us, because it allows access to dimensions of experience that everyday language often cannot hold. The debut album was conceived almost as a passage through successive inner states. We were not interested in linear narrative, but in emotional progression, in thresholds, collapses, transformations, suspensions. That approach shaped the music at every level: the structures, the pacing, the use of silence, the interplay between violence and rarefaction, and the role of the voice as both presence and dissolution. I believe this will remain an essential part of our language, because it is not merely a concept for us, but a way of perceiving and shaping experience. That said, we are not interested in repeating ourselves. What matters is not to preserve a theme as a formula, but to continue descending into what feels necessary, wherever that may lead.
Who are your biggest musical influences when it comes to Bianca?
β: Our roots are firmly embedded in radical black metal. Bands such as Watain, Funeral Mist, and Marduk were fundamental in shaping our relationship with urgency, extremity, and violence. At the same time, artists like Blut Aus Nord and Gaerea have been deeply important in showing that black metal can remain intense while also opening itself to stratification, emotional depth, and formal expansion. Beyond that, there are influences that may seem more distant, but are no less essential. Dead Can Dance and Wardruna taught us a great deal about atmosphere, silence, ritual space, and the power of suspension. On a different but equally meaningful level, artists such as Björk, Aurora, and Amy Lee matter to us for their freedom, their courage, and their ability to turn fragility into force. What interests us, ultimately, is not influence as quotation, but influence as awakening, music that unsettles, discloses, and transforms.
Are there any particular challenges you’ve faced as an emerging metal band?
β: There are always challenges when a new band begins to take shape publicly, especially when what it does resists easy classification. Black metal can still be a space marked by strong expectations, not only sonically, but also symbolically and visually. With BIANCA, even beginning from the name itself, we chose to create a deliberate rupture. That inevitably invites misunderstanding, but for us that tension is meaningful. Another challenge lies in growing without diluting the project’s core. We have never been interested in making ourselves more “acceptable” or more easily consumable. The real task is to remain honest while building something durable, living, and open. In that sense, one of our great fortunes has been finding people around us who immediately understood the nature of Bianca without trying to reduce it to something more familiar.
What’s next for Bianca? Can fans expect new music, tours, or something unexpected?
β: We are already working on the second album, which will represent a further descent into the abyss of human reality, perhaps fiercer, perhaps even more radical, but still deeply coherent with what Bianca is. We are not interested in repeating an aesthetic or reproducing a formula. What comes next must arise from necessity, just as the first record did. At the same time, the live dimension is becoming increasingly central to us. On stage, the songs shed one skin and take on another: they become more physical, more immediate, more exposed. That transformation is fundamental, because it completes what begins in the studio. The response to our first live appearances has been remarkably strong, often beyond expectation, and that has given us even greater conviction in the path ahead. In this regard, the work of Tito Vespasiani has been truly significant. Through Death Over Rome, Tito is building a path for Bianca that feels coherent, meaningful, and deeply respectful of the project’s identity. What matters to us is not simply that dates are being booked, but that the live trajectory is being shaped with intelligence and sensitivity. Tito understood what Bianca is from the beginning, without mediation or compromise, and chose to invest in it in a way that is not merely professional, but also human and artistic. That kind of trust is rare, and for us it makes all the difference. We are especially honoured to open the final day of this summer’s Frantic Fest, sharing the bill with Mayhem, whose presence remains foundational within black metal. For a band like ours, that is not only an important opportunity, but also a moment charged with symbolic weight. It feels, very clearly, like the beginning of a new phase.
Thank you for your time! Any last words you’d like to add to our readers?
β: Thank you for the space and the attention. To your readers, we would simply say this: if you choose to enter the world of Bianca, do so completely. Not in search of answers, but in search of an opening. Our music does not wish to explain; it wishes to unsettle, to fracture the surface, to make room for something that perhaps was already there, waiting to emerge. If that happens, even for an instant, then the encounter has already been real.
