Cinematic Sound, Soulful Spirit: Meet Emma Constance

Absolutely. My journey as a musical artist began when I was just the tender age of three — performing in musical theatre, where I first discovered the magic of storytelling through song, dance, and character.

Through my journey, I have been immersed in productions from classical theatre and Shakespearean roles to musical productions and soul-inspired personal performances.

I’ve played roles like Marilyn Monroe in Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend, Juliet in Romeo & Juliet, Ashputtel in Brothers Grimm and even Nala in The Lion King, every role has reached deep into my soul and unlocked an unspoken connection and story that I can share with the audience.

There’s something about live performance — that unspoken connection with an audience — that still gives me chills. It’s breathtaking, there are truly no words to describe the feeling you feel when you step onto the stage and the spotlight hits you. It’s home!

Over the years, I’ve expanded into film, fashion, and music — always staying true to my roots in theatre and my love for soulful, timeless sound. My music blends Soul, R&B, Motown, and a little sprinkle of musical theatre magic. I have yet to find what to call this sound, but that's part of the magic of the journey. It’s cinematic, heartfelt, and rooted in storytelling.

I draw a lot of inspiration from legends like Whitney Houston for her vocal power, Michael Jackson for his originality, Elvis Presley for his charisma, and Doris Day for that golden-era charm. I’ve always admired artists who bring both elegance and emotion to their craft, and I try to reflect that in everything I create.

It’s been an incredible journey so far — I’ve won multiple international music awards, including Best Soul & R&B Artist and Best Gospel Artist, been featured on a 25-story billboard in Times Square, and had the honor of collaborating with brands like Pepsi and Teen Vogue. My work has been featured in magazines, blogs, and radio stations across the globe, and I’ve even had the opportunity to audition for major productions like Hamilton and High School Musical.

But beyond all the milestones, what drives me is my mission to uplift dreamers and underrepresented voices. Music for me has always been more than a career — it’s my destiny, my soul’s calling. I want every person who hears my songs to feel seen, inspired, and reminded that their dreams can come true. That’s why I do what I do.

It’s been a one-way highway full of growth, faith, and a whole lot of dreaming big — and I’m just so grateful to be able to do what I love.

This recognition feels like a divine whisper — a reminder that every note I’ve sung, every story I’ve shared and every moment I’ve dreamed out loud has led to something meaningful. It’s not just a milestone; it’s a spark that expands my fire in the most beautiful way.

It inspires me to step even deeper into my artistry — to create without limits, to dream without borders, and to continue blending soul, R&B, Motown, and musical theatre into something out of this world. This recognition helps me fly higher, not for applause, but to be a voice for those who are still finding theirs. That’s where the real music lives.

I believe my soul knew before I did. There wasn’t just one moment — there were many little sparks along the way that lit the path, each one whispering, "This is what you were born to do."

I was just three years old, standing under stage lights for the very first time in a tiny theatre production — and something shifted. As the music swelled and the audience leaned in, I remember feeling this indescribable connection, like the world paused and suddenly made sense. It wasn’t about performing — it was about feeling, about belonging, about storytelling in a language deeper than words.

I still remember standing on the coffee table, plastic toy guitar in hand, pretending I was Elvis — hips shaking, heart wide open, performing for an audience of stuffed animals like it was the Madison Square Garden. Or busking on the streets, pouring my voice into the wind and watching strangers stop, smile, and applaud.

Music and performing became the place where I could express the things my heart couldn’t always say. It became my safe haven, my playground, my purpose.

Since then, music has been the heartbeat of everything I do. It’s where I feel most alive, most myself, most connected to something bigger. It’s never just been about singing — it’s been about telling stories that make people feel, that make them dream. And in every performance, big or small, I still hear that same whisper: “This is who you are.”

Truthfully, some of the most unexpected inspiration has come from moments of pain — from being bullied, being told I’d never make it, I’d amount to nothing, that my head was in the clouds, that I belonged behind, behind the scenes, not in the spotlight, that I was worthless. There were days those voices echoed louder than my own.

But somewhere deep inside, I held onto this spark. And instead of letting their words define me, they taught me how to pour truth into every note, how to sing from my soul. Every time someone said “You can’t,” I heard a melody. Every moment I felt invisible, I performed with all my heart, not just for me, but for every person who’s ever been made to feel small.

I remember those late nights in my bedroom, creating music when the world was asleep. Some nights I’d be up until 4 a.m., not to prove anyone wrong, but simply to be who I was born to be. Music and performing didn’t just give me an outlet — they saved me. They gave me a voice when I felt silenced. A purpose when I felt lost. And a place to turn my tears into something beautiful.

And through it all, I know it wasn’t just me. God carried me through the darkest moments and blessed me with these gifts. I create because God created me — not to survive, but to SHINE.

So yes, sometimes, the most unexpected inspiration comes from broken places. But that’s where the light gets in. That’s where the music lives.

Oh, I definitely have my rituals! For one, I wear the same snapback I started recording music professionally in. It's kind of like my lucky charm — it’s been with me through every session, every track, and I swear it has this magic to it. I don’t know if I could ever record without it at this point!

When I’m in the studio, I like to set the mood with twinkling fairy lights. They make the space feel magical and cozy, like I’m in my own little world. The lighting’s usually very moody too, because I think the right vibe helps me get into the flow. It’s like I’m pulling inspiration out of the air. But here’s the thing, I move around a lot when I record. I get lost in the music, and it’s a little chaotic, dancing around the studio between takes — usually barefoot.

When the song requires those power ballad moments, I imagine I’m on stage, ready 5,6,7,8.

I’ve even woken up in the middle of the night, hair all over the place, reaching for my phone to record an idea, and I have run out of storage because of this.

And when I’m truly in my element, my soul just goes on fire. It’s like the music takes over, and before I know it, my clothes start becoming less and less — I swear, I start shedding layers the more I sing! There’s something about the passion and heat of creating that makes everything else fade away.

Definitely a jam session — one where it’s everyone’s first time.

We live in a world where people are becoming desensitized in so many ways. More than ever, I want my music to make people feel something deeply. I want it to be alive, imperfect, and unpredictable.

One of the biggest — and most personal — risks I’ve ever taken was choosing to stay true to Emma Constance. — even when the world told me to change.

There were moments I was told I didn’t have “the look”, or that my sound didn’t fit what was trending, “fit the mold,” or just “sing something more commercial.” But I knew deep in my soul that I wasn’t created to blend in. I was born to stand out — to bring a sense of timeless magic, soul, and story back into the music.

Remaining authentic hasn’t always been easy — I’ve walked away from major opportunities and stages that could’ve opened big doors. But they came at the cost of my identity, my message, and my heart. And that’s a price I’m never willing to pay.

There are still moments where I reflect — whether I’d made the right choice, whether staying true would ever be enough. My voice is my story. My sound is my soul. And every time I’ve respected and honoured who I am, I’ve been reminded: Every risk I’ve taken, every leap of faith — it’s led me closer to the path I was meant to walk. Not the easy path, but the one that sets my soul on fire.

If I trace the roots of my love for music, it leads me straight back to musicals. As a little kid, I was completely enchanted by them—I’d watch the same ones on repeat, absolutely mesmerized. The Jolson Story, Calamity Jane, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, The Sound of Music, and classic Disney films like Peter Pan, Pocahontas, and The Lion King—they were my universe.

Honestly, the list could go on. And when I had the opportunity to go to the theatre and experience live performances, it was like stepping into another dimension. I’ll never forget seeing my first musical, Cats—in that moment, I was hooked. I could see it, feel it, hear it and I knew deep in my soul that’s what I wanted to do and who I wanted to be.

Thinking about one particular moment that lives rent-free in my heart: hearing “Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah” from Song of the South. That song brought me so much joy and wonder. I remember feeling like anything was possible the first time I heard it. It wasn’t just the melody or the lyrics—it was the feeling. It was sunshine in sound. That magical mix of music and storytelling wrapped around my heart and never let go.

I didn’t just watch musicals—I became them. I’d perform scenes around my home, act out songs in front of the mirror or my grandad, completely swept away in the fantasy. That’s when I truly fell in love with music, not just as something to listen to, but as something to live. It was my escape, my joy, and without a doubt, my earliest calling.

Honestly, the true turning point wasn’t a single performance or spotlight—it was a decision. A decision to stay true to who I am, even when the industry told me I “didn’t have the look they were after.” I’ve been told to change my sound, chase trends, sing more pop, dim the soul, and tone down the dream.

I’ve watched opportunities pass me by because I wouldn’t become what someone else thought I should be. But staying true to Emma Constance, to what I represent, to the stories I want to tell—that’s been my turning point. It’s cost me things, yes, but it’s also shaped me into an artist with purpose.

That commitment—to my voice, my vision, my values—has guided every step since. And while this dreamer's journey hasn’t always been smooth, it’s been mine. And that, to me, is everything.

A soul-stirring reimagination of a timeless anthem, where gospel fire, vintage soul, and cinematic tenderness collide to remind us that love is the highest frequency, and music is its divine messenger.

The most challenging part of "Higher Love" came with the bridge. There’s a section of the song where the bass in my vocals really needed to drop to a level I wasn’t sure I could reach.

What made it work wasn’t a perfect technique—it was the vulnerability I allowed myself to lean into. I trusted my body, my voice, and the energy of the song. It wasn’t easy, but getting that bridge right felt like a victory, a breakthrough. It taught me that sometimes the most challenging parts of a song are the ones that push you into a new level of your artistry.

Side note: That bridge vocal is my favorite in the whole song now.

I’m currently creating this year’s Christmas album, and I promise it’s going to have all those jingle bells ringing with a mix of classic warmth and fresh flair. It’s something I’m really excited about because there's a timeless joy in holiday music, and I want to bring a bit of that magic to life in my own way. Plus ask anyone I love Christmas, favorite time of the year.

I’m also currently producing my third part of a Disney album, which has been such a fun and nostalgic journey. There’s something so universal about Disney music, and recreating those beloved classics with my own style has been a dream come true.

But that's not all—I’ve got something special brewing in the gospel space as well, a little secret project I can’t wait to share when the time is right. The diversity in these projects excites me, as each one taps into a different part of my heart. Whether it’s Christmas cheer, Disney nostalgia, or a powerful gospel message, I’m ready to bring new, exciting music to the world.

It’s going to be a year full of passion, magic, and surprises, and I can’t wait for everyone to hear what’s coming!

Without a doubt, it would be Hans Zimmer and Brian Stokes Mitchell. Just imagine the cinematic power of Hans’s soul-stirring soundscapes—something in the spirit of “Now We Are Free”—blended with Brian’s rich, velvet baritone that carries the kind of weight only Broadway legends possess.

The track would be a sweeping, emotionally-charged journey—an orchestral masterpiece with cinematic depth and theatrical storytelling. I envision it beginning like a whisper between heaven and earth, slowly building with strings, haunting choirs, and textures that feel otherworldly.

And then, the duet—Brian and I trading verses, echoing each other like two souls calling across time. Our voices would dance between vulnerability and power, weaving together like the rise and fall of waves. It would be a conversation in melody—two hearts, two worlds, meeting in harmony.

This song would be more than a collaboration—it would be a moment, a timeless moment about love, destiny, and divine purpose. A piece that lives in both theatre and film, in both memory and dream. That kind of collaboration would be pure magic.

I would inspire fellow musicians to participate in music awards by reminding them that recognition isn't just about winning—it's about the journey and the validation of your hard work, your unique voice, and your contribution to the industry.

Being nominated or even just being a part of these experiences can amplify your reach, connect you with like-minded artists, and open doors you might not even know existed. It's about celebrating your craft, sharing your story, and putting your art out there for the world to see.

My advice would be to stay true to yourself and your art. It’s easy to get caught up in the competition and the pressure to conform, but your authenticity is what will resonate the most with others. Whether you win or not, what truly matters is that you have stayed committed to your vision, your message, and your sound.

Be patient and persistent—awards may not come right away, but every song, every performance, every moment of your journey is shaping you into the artist you're meant to be. Keep evolving, keep sharing your truth, and most importantly, keep creating.