On the Rise
Mar Pujol

With her second album Cançons de Rebost (Songs from the Pantry), the young Catalan singer/songwriter has carved out a space that’s both deeply personal and profoundly resonant. I caught up with Mar ahead of her first international concert to talk about her music, her influences, and her inspirational pantry game.

Mar Pujol has a knack for making the deeply local feel universal. Hailing from Prats de Lluçanès in Catalonia, her songs are laced with influences from traditional Catalan music, yet her approach seems custom-built to break language barriers. Her voice, delicate but unwavering, carries the weight of heritage while reaching out to a broader audience. In just a few years, she’s gone from playing small venues in her hometown to gracing stages at Primavera Sound and Jazz Cava, and now she’s preparing for her first international showcase – at Eurosonic Noorderslag (ESNS) in the Groeningen, the Netherlands.

“It’s my first concert outside of Spain,” Mar tells me with a mix of excitement and nerves. “I’m excited to see if it’s true that music is a universal language.”

Mar’s artistry is deeply rooted in the rich traditions of Catalan music and literature. She cites legends like Maria del Mar Bonet and Joan Manuel Serrat as key influences, alongside lesser-known local groups like Esquirols. But her sound also reflects the experimental spirit of contemporary Catalan acts like Tarta Relena and Marala. “Their mix of electronic and traditional elements is so inspiring,” she says, her voice lighting up as she describes their work.

This blend of the old and the new is what makes Mar’s music stand out. Her minimalist compositions feel timeless, drawing on the region’s deep cultural roots while pushing them into uncharted territory.

Mar made local headlines in Lluçanès in 2022 with her project, Llegendes Musicades—an album she recorded made up of several musical legends from the territory that committed to generating a first-level cultural impact in Lluçanès. She received The Rural Innovation Award from the Catalan government and used that money to fund her first album, Trepa, in 2022.

Her latest release, Cançons de Rebost, is an album that feels like it was made to be shared in quiet moments. Its title, which translates to “Songs from the Pantry,” reflects Mar’s fascination with the seemingly mundane. “A pantry is such a homey, everyday concept, but it’s also deeply symbolic,” she explains. “It’s a space where things are preserved, where darkness is what keeps life alive. That contrast between light and dark, order and chaos, runs through the whole album.”

Her songs often avoid traditional structures, favoring a natural, organic flow. In fact, only one track on the whole album has anything you’d recognise as a chorus. The rest is free-flowing, experimental, and totally fluid. Tracks like “Per a Tu” explore the tension between meticulous order and freeform creativity, while “Amor en Conserva” uses the metaphor of canned love to speak to themes of preservation and intimacy.

The album closer, “Cabell D’angell” is throat-filling and paradoxically intense for such a soft and stripped-back song. “I was very much in love when I wrote that,” she smiles. “The lyrics are about wanting to tell him just a few things so I don't scare him away.”

Mar’s connection to music runs deep, shaped by her childhood in a rural village. Her father, who she describes as a “wild man”, lives in the mountains and was a key influence for her musical journey. “When we visited his house, we’d sing in the round in the car on the way back,” she recalled fondly. “We didn’t even talk on that drive. I always remember those drives and spending time with my redneck dad. We’d find spots in the house where the acoustics were best, like the well, and sing there. It was magical.”

This early immersion in music wasn’t without its challenges. Mar’s initial foray into the violin felt too rigid, but learning guitar from her father opened up new possibilities. “He taught me a few chords, and from there, we started playing together. That’s when I fell in love with creating music," she explains.

Before releasing her albums, Mar honed her craft busking in the streets of Europe, from France to Liechtenstein. “Switzerland was the best,” she laughs. “The people were so polite, and even the police left you alone.” A set of mostly covers allowed her the space to test drive her own songs in front of an already formed crowd. These experiences taught her resilience and gave her the confidence to share her original music in a more intentional way.

Now, with international stages beckoning, Mar is preparing to take her intimate style to larger audiences. “It’s a challenge,” she admits. “My music is very intimate, so I worry about connecting in festival settings. But I’ve learned to focus on enjoying the moment and trusting the music to speak for itself.”

Mar’s future feels as open as her music is intimate. Eager to continue exploring themes of home and connection while experimenting with new sounds, her dream stays humble, honed, and professional. “I don’t need to fit into every space,” she says. “I just want to create something honest.”

Before our conversation ends, Mar insists on showing me her pantry. Carrying her laptop through the house, she reaches an open, homely living with an open chimney. “This is where the magic happens,” she laughs, opening an old wooden door to a cozy nook filled with jars and preserves. “It’s not just a pantry. It’s a space where life’s simplest moments find their place, just like my songs.”

As she speaks, I cant' help but feel that Mar’s music, like her pantry, is a testament to the beauty of preserving what matters most. And for Mar, that means crafting songs that will stay with us long after the last note fades and the jars are empty.