Stas Mari’s “Beyond the Sky” Is a Decade-Long Journey Through Grief, Motherhood & Memory

Stas Mari's new album 'Beyond the Sky' is not just a collection of songs; it is a living, breathing archive of emotion, ancestry, and place. With a voice that feels like both a whisper and a wave, Mari invites listeners to step into a deeply personal sonic world shaped by the California coast, motherhood, migration, and memory. The result is a rich, genre-blending folk fusion project that is as intimate as it is expansive.

Co-produced by world-renowned musician Ricky Fataar (Bonnie Raitt, The Beach Boys), Beyond the Sky took over a decade to complete. Recorded between life's milestones, marriage, childbirth, a move from San Francisco to Big Sur, and the pandemic—the album carries the weight of lived experience in every note. And yet, it never feels heavy. Instead, it shimmers with light, honesty, and warmth.

The album drifts effortlessly between moods and styles. There's the poetic and percussive "Pacaypallá," inspired by Pablo Neruda. The sweeping, heartbreaking "Rain On Me" was written in memory of a lost child. The haunting "The Steppe" honors Mari's Ukrainian great-grandmother. And the tender love song "Stories," a quiet celebration of a lifelong partnership. Each track carries its own emotional pulse, stitched together by Mari's captivating vocals and lyrical storytelling.

What sets Beyond the Sky apart is its sense of sacred timing. It was not rushed. It simmered. It grew with her children and was uplifted by friends, including one who posthumously gifted Mari the means to finish the album. That generosity, like the songs themselves, adds a spiritual resonance that lingers long after the final track fades.

This is music for kitchen tables, for morning drives, for grief, and for celebration. Stas Mari has crafted a timeless, soul-deep album that asks us to remember, reflect, and stay connected to our roots, to our loved ones, and to the quiet beauty beyond the sky.

'Beyond the Sky' took over a decade to complete. How did the passage of time and major life changes shape the way the album came together?

We started recording the album when I still lived in San Francisco and when time felt limitless (becoming a mother teaches you that time is very precious!) I was in the midst of completing my Waldorf teacher training, surfing at Ocean Beach, and teaching gardening classes at a local school when the music came. It was a moment of inspiration. Whenever Ricky (my producer) was available, we'd gather in his home studio and collaborate on the songs. The process was casual and organic, and we didn't feel rushed.

Later on, the logistics and realities of life were the reasons for the album's long simmer. Moving to Big Sur from San Francisco, isolating during the pandemic, and then becoming a mother of two boys put this music project on hold. It has felt like a huge feat to release this album as a "stay-at-home mom" when life is constantly interrupted by the needs of the little ones. Prioritizing time for creative expression is essential for my well-being. Hearing the songs that were recorded years before their release conjures up nostalgia... "Beyond the Sky" has become a time capsule and an era of my life.

What was it like working with Ricky Fataar on such a profoundly personal project?

When Ricky first pitched the idea of doing an album together, I was excited, honored, and also a bit intimidated. He has so much musical talent and experience, but as our friendship grew, I realized that this project was not only nourishing but also fun for both of us. He has become like an uncle figure to me and always puts me at ease when I bring a new song or idea to the table. Our studio sessions were productive, but they were always filled with quality heart-to-hearts in between the music. When he returned home from long tours with Bonnie Raitt, he appreciated diving into something completely different, where he had the creative license to bring each track to life. His home studio was an inspiring place to spend time-- filled with instruments from all over the world, each one with a story.  I feel like Ricky saw me grow into my adult self... getting married to my husband Ben and building my own family... he was a part of these big milestones.

Each track on the album feels like a story. How do you decide which memories or moments become songs?

Yes, there is a story in each track! Some are playful reflections of my life and my childhood, and others are about loss, coming of age, and matters of the heart. I am an empath, and sometimes, when I feel deeply moved by what I witness in the world, I express myself most effectively through song.  It's hard to say if there's a decisive moment when I choose to make a memory or moment into a song... sometimes the music comes first, and when I sense the mood or spirit of the song forming, the story or memory emerges. Songwriting hasn't come with a consistent formula for me.

There are times, though, when a song must be written. With all the turmoil in Ukraine over the last decade, I learned more about my Ukrainian great-grandmother, a subsistence farmer and weaver who endured great hardship. Her resourcefulness and resilience have always moved me, and I wrote "The Steppe" in her voice.

Another example of a song that I wrote without hesitation was "Fire," after the Soberanes Fire burned through my family's property in Big Sur. As Californians, we are no strangers to fire... when we are close to these forces of nature, we are humbled by their power.

Your multicultural roots and time spent abroad clearly influence your sound. How do you approach blending different genres and cultural elements into your music?

Whenever people ask, "What's your genre of music?" I have a tough time answering that question. My travels to South America and Mexico have brought so much rhythm and beauty to my life that I sometimes can't help but bring some of that flavor into my songs. There are words or phrases that sound less cliché when they're in another language and certain beats that instantly lift the spirit. When we traveled to Brazil for our honeymoon, I brought my guitar with me and learned chords and rhythms from whoever had the patience to teach me. 

When I was reading from my favorite Pablo Neruda poetry book, I could hear music in the words of "Pacaypallá." They took me back to the months I spent living in Chile.

And then there's something about writing a country folk tune with three or four chords... the satisfying and somewhat predictable way to tell a story that hopefully brings the listener ease and comfort. ("Country Down the Road" was that track for me).

When I hear music that touches me, I sometimes say to myself, "I'd like to write a song like that." So why not?

If listeners could walk away from this album holding one feeling or memory, what would you hope it is?

I hope listeners feel like they have just sat around the kitchen table, sharing stories by candlelight. Sharing memories and telling stories can help us find wholeness and a sense of belonging. While our ancestry, paths, and experiences are different, we are never alone.