For Katie Castagno, our 2024 Fully Human Giveback Featured Artist, the worlds of geology and music are deeply interconnected. Their experiences as a geologist inform their songwriting, bringing a unique perspective to both fields. In this interview, Katie discusses their journey into geology, how it shapes their music, and the ways they balance their dual passions.
"Geology shows instead of tells, and I’d say the same is true for effective songwriting."
Can you tell us about how you came to be a geologist?
I was planning on majoring in government in college, but my first semester I took a field geology course on a whim. We spent an afternoon a week exploring the geologic features of western Massachusetts, climbing mountains and searching for dinosaur footprints. I was hooked! I went on to study geological oceanography in graduate school, focusing on how hurricanes have impacted salt marshes over the last couple millennia. Looking back on my love of nature camp–and the size of my rock collection–as a child, I suppose it wasn’t much of a surprise that I ended up in a job that feels like nature camp every day!
How does your work as a geologist influence your music and storytelling?
So much of being a geologist depends on observing the natural world and then coming up with a story about how it happened. Geology shows instead of tells, and I’d say the same is true for effective songwriting. My first album, Every House I’ve Known, is a collection of songs about each place I’ve lived, and observations about the natural world play a big part in the landscape of the songs. “Ocean Road,” for example, is a song about an intense roommate relationship (we’ve all had those, right?), but also about living steps from the ocean in a little beach cottage during a hurricane. “Mosaic” is about being young and heartbroken in a new city, but it’s also written about a summer in undergrad I spent outside of Chicago dissolving rocks in acid for science!
What are some of the most interesting geological sites you've visited, and have they inspired any of your songs?
My research largely focuses on how sediment moves in salt marshes. There’s something so visceral about the tidally-dominated place where the land and the sea meet in this mucky, unforgiving way while also providing so much for the environment. Marshes enhance biodiversity, support fisheries, sequester carbon, and provide coastal protection from storms and sea-level rise. That being said, I end up in the marsh under a wide variety of conditions. I wrote “High Tide” about my experiences menstruating as a queer field scientist, and it’s rich with marsh metaphors! Geology is still a cis-male-dominated field, and it was empowering to write a song inspired by the salt marsh to raise awareness for accessible and inclusive fieldwork for folks who menstruate.
"It’s been a joy to uncover old scientific journal articles written by these queer elders and incorporate their research into songs about them!"
Your project "Our Queer Elders" focuses on storytelling. How does your scientific background shape the way you tell these stories through music?
I’m a great researcher! I’ve spent years learning how to do science research, so the shift to research about often lesser-known queer folks came pretty naturally to me. I also find myself especially drawn to tell stories about queer scientists. One of the first inspirations for this project was finding out Rachel Carson, conservationist and author of Silent Spring, had a long-term romantic relationship with a woman. The first woman to receive a PhD in Oceanography in the United States, Easter Ellen Cupp, lived with her partner for decades; biographers called them roommates. I just finished a song about Elke Mackenzie, a British biologist, Antarctic explorer, and trans woman. It’s been a joy to uncover old scientific journal articles written by these queer elders and incorporate their research into songs about them!
How do you balance your dual careers as a geologist and a musician?
I always quip that I’m a geologist by day, singer-songwriter by night, and I’ve gotten to more than a couple gigs with mud still under my fingernails! That being said, I love what I do! Both industries, when left unchecked, can be all-consuming. Having a foot in both worlds keeps me grounded and makes me more intentional about my time in both spheres.
"It took me years to lean into my dualities and realize that I can exist as both a musician and a geologist at the same time, and I’m better for it now that I’ve incorporated both into my identity."
Are there any geological phenomena that you find particularly inspiring or that you frequently incorporate into your music?
I’ve spent most of my life close to the coast, and I am so grateful to live and work on Cape Cod, an ephemeral spit of sand left over by the last Ice Age. So many of my songs incorporate ocean or coastal imagery, whether it’s a love song to my friends about night swimming among bioluminescent dinoflagellates or using the metaphor of a diving emperor penguin to explore anxiety and depression.
What advice would you give to someone looking to integrate seemingly disparate passions, like geology and music, into a cohesive creative practice?
It’s okay to pursue both, and skills are often more transferable than you think! A lot of the skills I’ve honed as a geologist (research, project management, public speaking, carrying heavy things) are pretty directly transferable to my work as a musician. It took me years to lean into my dualities and realize that I can exist as both a musician and a geologist at the same time, and I’m better for it now that I’ve incorporated both into my identity.