On a warm Monday evening in Alfama, with a pink-blue sunset stretching across the sky, we met Fiona Disegni, a French woman who has made Lisbon her home and Fado her passion. Outside the Museum of Fado, with the soul of the city surrounding us, Fiona spoke of her love for the music, the city, and the life she’s crafted here.
“Now we are in the the heart of Fado, in Lisbon, in Alfama, and this whole environment is full of Fado places—tascas, as we call them—and they wake up a bit later at night. This is where souls and hearts cry and express themselves”, she says, as if she could already feel the emotion that would spill out as night fell.
Though originally from Paris, Fiona’s journey has taken her across various countries the years. “I fell in love with Lisbon in 2018. I discovered Fado then. I was like, One day, I’ll come live here, and I will learn it.” In 2020, amid the uncertainty of the Covid pandemic, the opportunity came. Her company, which had Portuguese ties, offered her a chance to relocate, and Fiona didn’t hesitate. “I thought for three minutes, and then I decided to come”, she says, laughing.
Fiona’s deep love for performance and art was evident from an early age. “I think I’ve always been a performer”, she reflects. “I’ve always had a love for artistic expression.”
While Fiona speaks multiple languages—French, English, Italian, and a bit of Portuguese singing Fado in Portuguese was never in question. “Of course, I’m playing by the rules, I’m playing the game. I actually started to sing before I even spoke Portuguese”, she explains, emphasizing that Fado’s essence goes beyond the language. But understanding the lyrics was crucial.
“Fado is all about feeling, transmitting, and connecting with people. If I don’t know the meaning of the words, I can’t feel it, I can’t do anything.”
For Fiona, Alfama embodies not just Fado, but the complexity and soul of Lisbon itself. “This area is the soul of Lisbon. It has all the expressivity of the city, and it’s full of hidden streets and corners. Alfama isn’t straight; it’s all about the complexity of Portuguese people as well”, she notes, describing the neighborhood’s unique energy.
As the light fades, we wander by some touristy Fado spots. We hear a singer at an outdoor restaurant. “There are so many places to experience Fado, but it’s important to know where to go, where the atmosphere feels right.” While tourists flock to certain Fado houses, Fiona has her own favorite spots – places where the vibe is local and authentic, where she feels at home.
As we delve deeper into Fiona’s Fado journey, it becomes clear that her connection to the music goes beyond curiosity. “What got me into Fado? I don’t know,” she says softly. “It’s a feeling. When I heard it for the first time, I felt connected. I love that raw singing, and even if I didn’t understand the words, I could feel the vibrations. I knew it was my way to connect to the culture.”
When Fiona arrived in Lisbon, she sought ways to deepen this connection. A Portuguese friend introduced her to Tasca do Chico in Bairro Alto—one of Lisbon’s famed Fado bars.
“The owner looked at me and said, She doesn’t even speak Portuguese.” But that didn’t discourage Fiona. Her friend set a challenge: within a year, Fiona would be singing Fado there. “Two months later, I dared to ask a fadista for lessons.”
This wasn’t just any fadista. Claudia Picado, a celebrated Fado singer, became Fiona’s mentor. “She had never given lessons before, but she agreed to teach me.” After two months of practice, Claudia took Fiona to a restaurant with live guitarists. “She said, You’re up in five minutes. She pushed me onto the stage, and that was the beginning of my Fado journey.”
Claudia continued to encourage Fiona, nudging her to perform in different venues and building her confidence. “She really initiated me into Fado”, Fiona recalls.” I’m still nervous when I sing, though. In these intimate Fado spaces, you’re so close to people. The narrower the space, the better it is, because you can really feel the connection. That’s what Fado is all about.
Recently, Fiona had an incredible experience driving back to Lisbon with renowned guitarist Luís Ribeiro, who played for the legendary Amália Rodrigues. “She’s the most famous Fado singer, the one who exported Fado outside of Portugal”, Fiona explains, her eyes lighting up. “It was amazing to talk to him and learn more about the community and its history.”
As a Frenchwoman singing Fado, Fiona understands the balance between being welcomed and being an outsider. “I think I’m an accepted outsider”, she says thoughtfully. “The Portuguese are proud to see their heritage being sung by others, but they are also protective. You meet people who love hearing Fado with my French accent, and others who are more conservative, who think it should remain untouched by foreigners. But overall, they’re intrigued by the idea that Fado is going beyond Portugal, that it has a universal essence.”
Of course, she’s no stranger to criticism. “In local neighborhoods, where I live, people post my videos on Facebook. Some love it, some say it’s horrible. But that’s normal. Not everyone is going to like it. What can I do?”
To take a break, we wander into a lively (non-Fado infused) bar in Alfama called Crafty Corner. Outside of her passion for Fado, Fiona’s life extends into the startup world. “I’m in the tech side of things”, she says.
Her last job was as a partnership director, a role that involved “building trust, connecting people, thinking creatively”, she adds. “But they knew I was a Fadista too. I could sing a song between two meetings.” This balancing act between tech and Fado reflects Fiona’s multifaceted personality.
After our break, we continue walking through Alfama en route to Fiona’s tasca of choice – Alfamas own Tasca Do Chico. Playful on the streets, she chats and even flirts with various musicians and tasca singers. The atmosphere is good-natured. One crooner – Jose Matoso calls her sympathetic and good-looking, before suggesting she could be named Rosa. Fiona grins: “At least you got the ‘A’ right.”
The conversation turns back to her performances and the ever-present nerves that accompany them.
“Do you get nervous?” I ask. “Of course”, she admits. “It’s not like you enter and just sing. You wait. There are other singers, and you never know when it’s your turn. There are breaks, people speaking in Portuguese, chaos. And then—silence.”
We watch as Fiona enters the busy Tasca do Chico. Fiona seems to know everyone, receiving multiple kisses from familiar faces. We watch her sing a couple of songs in the darkened, hushed restaurant. Like all good Fado, there’s an intensity in the room that you could cut with a knife.
After the performance, Fiona reflects on the physical side of the experience. “My abs – I can tell you, I did my sport of the day. There’s so much at stake when you sing Fado that you don’t have mental space to cry”, she says with a laugh, revealing the intensity and emotional control the genre demands.
As our conversation winds down, we ask Fiona about the first song she sang tonight – O meu amor Marinheiro. “What was that first song about?”
“It was about what Fado is, and how everything is Fado.” She explains how the lyrics explore the essence. “It’s all about broken souls, nostalgic nights, doors left ajar, pain, regrets… all the sadness that exists. But it’s also about recognizing that Fado is everywhere. It’s not necessarily sad”, she adds. “It’s about trying to define this deep feeling that permeates life.”
When asked what she’d like to improve as a performer, she responds thoughtfully. “I want to get better at taking risks—singing new songs I’ve never performed before in public. It’s always hard to jump into the unknown, especially with musicians I don’t know”, she chuckles, recalling how she used to beg guitarists during breaks to rehearse for a minute. “They’d look at me like I was some tourist of Fado, but now, I just go for it. No more being a pain—I’ve learned to trust the moment.”
Her love for Alfama is clear. “What I love about this neighborhood is how everything happens so randomly. By chance, you meet someone, and they take you somewhere to sing. Then someone else grabs your hand, leading you to another place. It’s a chain, an endless story.” Her face lights up as she describes the spontaneity that has shaped her journey.
As we near the end of our time together, I ask if she has said everything she wanted to. Fiona pauses. “I think s0”, she answers. Then I ask her about saudade—the indescribable feeling so often associated with Fado.
“Yes, I know what saudade means”, she says, hesitating as if searching for the right words. “It’s hard to explain. It’s like nostalgia, but more… a satisfying nostalgia, almost joyful in a way. That’s the essence of Fado—it’s saudade.”
With that, our conversation fades into the atmosphere of Alfama. Fiona stays behind, her love for Fado keeping her rooted in this timeless place, always in search of the next guitarist, the next song, the next connection.
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