Q&A: Redefining the Cello One Song at a Time with yeemz
INTERVIEW
INTERVIEW
☆ BY SHEVON GREENE ☆
YI-MEI TEMPLEMAN (STAGE NAME YEEMZ) — is reinventing what it means to be a classical musician in a modern world. She’s a cellist, singer-songwriter, and composer based in Santa Monica, bringing the technical precision of her conservatory training into emotional and genre-blurring indie folk-pop. Whether she’s bowing through a Bach suite or strumming her cello like a guitar, yeemz crafts music that is both intimate and expansive.
After years of performing with the internationally acclaimed Trio Gaia and collaborating on classical and pop projects alike (including Sabrina Carpenter and Adam Melchor), she’s now stepping fully into her solo artistry. Her debut album, Blame the Gods, recorded with producer Leroy James Clampitt, shows her ability to fold big ideas into quiet, beautifully-orchestrated soundscapes, and will be released on July 18.
We spoke with yeemz about her creative process, how she’s making classical music more accessible, and what it means to tell big stories in small moments. Read on for more.
LUNA: Your music blends classical technique with indie pop storytelling really effortlessly. When did you first realize you wanted to break traditional genre barriers?
YEEMZ: I wish I could say it was a big, rebellious decision against my classical background, but it was a lot more intuitive. Most classical musicians I know don’t primarily listen to classical music, and I was one of them. I’ve always needed a break from the intense parts of my life. Growing up, school was intense, and classical music became that break. But then I went to conservatory, and classical music became the intense thing. I started turning to pop music to let off steam. I’ve written songs on the piano since I was a kid, but it took time and maturity to gain the confidence to share them. I used to only see myself as an instrumentalist, and I’m still reframing that. It’s ongoing, but it really was about finding an outlet from the conservatory world.
LUNA: That makes sense. It’s nice to have something that lets you blow off steam.
YEEMZ: Totally—no rules, no pressure.
LUNA: What surprises people most when they see you play the cello sideways like a guitar?
YEEMZ: I think the size. It’s a big instrument, so people are surprised it works that way. But it’s hollow and really light. I already know it well, so it feels natural even if it looks strange. Also, it’s fretless, which allows you to slide around the notes—I love that part.
LUNA: That was definitely my first thought—I assumed it must be heavy!
YEEMZ: It’s not! Cellos used to be played without the end pin, held between the knees. So holding it up like that isn’t as strange as it looks.
LUNA: Your music is described as both intimate and universal. How do you balance telling personal stories while keeping them accessible?
YEEMZ: I’m still working on that. My music started as something for myself—something I did quietly when no one was around. I wasn’t confident about singing or songwriting. But as I kept doing it, accessibility became more important. I’d love for my music to introduce people to the classical world—to bring them into those spaces. When I first started writing my own songs, I didn’t want help. I felt like it wasn’t worthy yet. So I’d do everything myself—layers of cello, self-produced. But it wasn’t the most accessible sound. Now, I’m leaning into collaboration more, incorporating band arrangements around the cello. The stories are still personal, but the sound is more open and easier to step into.
LUNA: That feels like such a natural evolution.
YEEMZ: Thank you. I hope so!
LUNA: You’ve mentioned literature as a big inspiration. Were there any specific books or media that influenced your upcoming album?
YEEMZ: I had a playlist of inspirations I listened to a lot before making the album—it included contemporary classical, ambient, folk, and indie pop. The whole album was created in two weeks. One song, “TSA,” was loosely inspired by “All About Love” by bell hooks—specifically the idea that love is a choice and daily practice. I also reread “Upstream” by Mary Oliver that summer. It’s not directly linked to specific lyrics, but it deeply influences my artistic mindset. And there’s a poem called “The Economy” by Ariana Reines that I discovered while making the album. It’s about questioning whether making art is a worthy life—that resonated so much. It felt like permission.
LUNA: That kind of artistic validation can be so powerful.
YEEMZ: Completely. I highly recommend that poem.
LUNA: How did working with Leroy James Clampitt shape your debut album?
YEEMZ: Hugely. He’s become a dear friend. It felt like the two of us made the whole album as a duo. He played half the instruments—bass while I played piano, drums while I played cello—and did all the background vocals with me. I can’t play drums or bass well, so having him there helped everything sound fuller. We wanted it to feel like a five-person band just vibing live, and I think we got there. It was also a great learning experience. He brought so much clarity to the sound—something my self-produced stuff lacked. The album wouldn’t exist without him. It feels as much his art as mine.
LUNA: That’s incredible. Sounds like he filled in all the gaps perfectly.
YEEMZ: He really did—it was so seamless.
LUNA: If you could describe the album as a place or season, what would it be?
YEEMZ: Definitely the studio where we recorded—in Stinson Beach, Northern California. It looks out over the ocean, green hills, hawks flying above. Pure heaven. There’s a song called “No Trace” where we recorded crickets and used a sound technique from a piece called “I Am Sitting in a Room” by Alvin Lucier—we captured the resonance of the room. It’s all embedded in that one house on a cliff.
LUNA: That does sound like heaven.
YEEMZ: It really was.
LUNA: What was the first song that made you feel like this album was becoming something bigger?
YEEMZ: The oldest song is “Two Kids,” which I wrote in 2019. But the first one Leroy and I worked on was “Beta Paradox.” I sent him a video of me playing a banjo riff my dad bought off eBay, and he told me to bring it to Stinson Beach. We finished that song on day one. I was nervous about spending two weeks with someone I didn’t know that well, but by the end of that day, I felt like—okay, this might actually work. He sent me a bounce that night, and I listened while brushing my teeth thinking, yeah, we can make an album. That song kicked it all off.
LUNA: That must’ve been such a reassuring moment.
YEEMZ: Definitely. It gave us momentum right away.
LUNA: You have a way of weaving big concepts into personal stories. Is there one you’re especially proud of?
YEEMZ: “Beta Paradox” again. A friend told me this idea that people react more decisively to really bad situations than sort-of-bad ones—that stuck with me. It was tricky to break down into a song, but I’m proud of how we did it. It almost feels like a children’s song explaining a big concept in different ways. On the more personal side, there’s “The Finish Line,” about my best friend. I kept trying to fix his problems for him and only made things worse. I just wanted him to be happy. Writing that helped me learn how to be a better friend.
LUNA: I’ve definitely been there—wanting to fix everything for someone you care about.
YEEMZ: It’s a tough lesson, learning to let go and support without controlling.
LUNA: If the album had a hidden message, what would it be?
YEEMZ: Not intentionally, but one throughline is learning to let people go. I used to be more controlling—of situations, of people. Now I’m trying to just show up, do my thing, and let others live how they need to. That mindset definitely shaped a lot of the songs.
LUNA: I heard you love baking cookies. If “Beta Paradox” were a cookie, what kind would it be?
YEEMZ: I love this question. A plain chocolate chip. Not fancy—not bad enough to change, but good as is. Of course people try variations, like brown butter versions, but it’s still the classic. That’s kind of the concept behind the song too.
LUNA: That’s such a good metaphor. If you could design a dream stage setup with no budget limit, what would it look like?
YEEMZ: Probably what I did for my EP release—we held it at a tea house in downtown LA. Floor seating, white drapes, upstairs and downstairs areas, custom teas for each song. Only about 60 people. I played with my high school friends. In a perfect world, we’d have better sound, but it was cozy and intimate. I’m not trying to play stadiums. I just want to talk to people, drink tea, and play music in a space that feels personal.
LUNA: That sounds way better than a stadium.
YEEMZ: I hope people feel the same way.
LUNA: If one of your songs was turned into a surreal short film, which one would it be?
YEEMZ: Probably “No Trace.” It’s about staying present while someone else leaves. The lyrics are ambiguous and the music is very ambient. I think it would translate well into a surreal visual world.
LUNA: Last question—how do you know when a piece of music is finished?
YEEMZ: Someone once told me, “Art is never finished, it’s abandoned,” and I really believe that. I listen back and always think about how it could be better—better lyrics, better mix. But now I have people around me—a label, a manager, Leroy—who help keep me from spiraling into perfectionism. That external accountability is what helps me move forward. We had a strict two-week deadline for this project, and that helped too.
