Meet Rubina Miranda | Artist and Creative Strategist

We had the good fortune of connecting with Rubina Miranda and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Rubina, why did you decide to pursue a creative path?
I’ve always felt like my late grandmother, Cory, had something to do with bringing me here, from the south of Jakarta all the way to New York. She passed in 2007, when I was in fifth grade. I was one of those kids who cried if left alone in kindergarten, so she’d wait by the classroom door until school was over. In her living room, there was an upright piano, never really tuned, and next door in the pavilion, my uncle Santo (who was a music teacher, and has since passed too) taught me my first song. I was three. It was “Mary Had a Little Lamb.” I remember thinking, I love this. That was probably the start of whatever nascent artistic instinct I’ve been chasing since.

Around the same time, my parents enrolled me in vocal classes. This was Jakarta post-monetary crisis; my dad had just been laid off, and we couldn’t afford another after-school class. My grandma came through again, covering my piano classes and even upgrading our dinky electric keyboard to a real upright Kawai after my teacher warned it was “bad for finger strength.” As things got better, my mom signed me up for every kind of after-school arts class: ballet, painting, photography, and English. She said it was just to test the waters, but I liked all of them. Eventually, she couldn’t keep up. Until it got to middle school, I was on my own, piecing things together however I could.

And last summer, I spent time at an artist retreat in the Catskills, searching for inspiration for new music. The whole place reminded me of weekends I used to spend with my grandma on the outskirts of West Java: rice paddies, slow mornings. Even though we’ve been apart physically for almost two decades, the connection felt close again. It was like being pulled back to the WHY of it all: why I make things, why it’s always felt like more than just self-expression. It gave me clarity that pursuing a creative path has always been about honoring where I come from, and the people who believed in me before I had the language to believe in myself. I came home with a finished track called “Let Me Know When You Get Home”, written from the soft corners of those memories.

Strangely enough, a few weeks later, my uncle Santo passed away unexpectedly in China. I flew back to Jakarta and sang that song at his memorial. It was surreal, and somehow full-circle without me realizing it. That experience reminded me that art, when it’s intentional, has a spiritual function. It gives shape to grief, to joy, to meaning. That’s why I do this.

My song “Let Me Know When You Get Home” drops next month. I hope it brings the same warmth it gave me, like a soft light, guiding you back to the people you miss most.

Let’s talk shop? Tell us more about your career, what can you share with our community?
I started out in Jakarta as the lead singer of a DIY jazzy pop band, we were just teenagers playing school stages and eventually landed slots at international festivals like Java Jazz. Over time, I got featured on tracks across genres, from indie rock to alt-pop, collaborating with artists like Hindia, .Feast, Sajama Cut, and even helping Gangga as a backing vocalist. My first solo release came out on Orange Cliff Records, where I leaned into something more experimental and textured, think: a Brazilian jazz album with an operatic twist, wah guitars recorded through a muffled bedroom speaker. In 2021, I wrote and sang for the soundtrack of “Vengeance Is Mine, All Others Pay Cash”, an Indonesian arthouse film that ended up winning the Golden Leopard at Locarno. The song picked up nominations for Best Original Soundtrack at the Maya Awards and Best Songwriting at the Indonesian Film Festival. Also, I’m part of a folky little band called Sauh, currently on hiatus after our first release last August. We’ll be back eventually.

My influences span a wide range, from Milton Nascimento, Minnie Riperton, Burt Bacharach, Ivan Lins, Carpenters, Linda Perhacs. I’ve always gravitated toward artists living in that gentle space between genres.

That said, performing’s always been a side gig. Most of my work happens offstage: creative direction, marketing, artist development. I was part of the early team at SM Entertainment Indonesia, building the company’s local presence from zero. It wasn’t just about translating K-pop into another market; it was about creating a cultural echo, bridging collaborations across Asia, and reimagining what “local” could mean within a global machine. I’ve also directed music videos, led visual campaigns, and designed for artists from EDM headliners to genre-bending indies. For me, storytelling is multisensory, and music is just one tool.

I’ve always been drawn to the idea of home, whether that means a city, a group of friends, or just the feeling of being understood. When I moved to New York in 2023 to pursue my master’s in Music Business at NYU, I didn’t expect to find a home so quickly. But I did, mostly through a small but mighty Indonesian community that feels like an anchor in a city that rarely slows down.

The idea of “home” drives a lot of what I do: whether that’s a city, a chosen family, or a shared memory. When I moved to New York in 2023 for my Music Business master’s at NYU, I didn’t expect to find a home so quickly. But I did, thanks to a small but mighty Indonesian community that grounds me.

Indonesia will always be my first home. And with that comes a responsibility to give back. I’m building something intentional, rooted in that: tying together my experience, culture, and purpose into a community involvement-focused project related to music.

Right now, my roommate Yealinzka and I are throwing something close to our hearts. Memorabilia Berdisco, a new project I’m co-creating with @memorabiliatour and @disc0nesia that’s all about reviving Indonesia’s golden era of funk, disco, pop, and psychedelia. The first event’s happening August 10th at Brooklyn Monarch, just in time for Indonesia’s 80th Independence Day. We’re bringing food, games, lots of dancing, and rare Southeast Asian grooves from our friend Satrio Hammami (Disconesia), who’s coming down from D.C. to spin. It’s more than a party but a tribute to our culture, our people, and the way we keep each other going even oceans away from home.

If you had a friend visiting you, what are some of the local spots you’d want to take them around to?
I recently moved to Elmhurst, Queens, after spending my first two years in Bushwick. It’s a super welcoming, community-driven neighborhood with a small but tight-knit Indonesian diaspora. Clean, safe, affordable, and honestly, kind of a hidden gem. Best food ever. I live by Grand Street Station, where you’re surrounded by all kinds of Asian groceries and delicacies, especially Indonesian warungs. Once I’m here, homesickness won’t hit the same!

Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
My late grandma and uncle, Cory and Santo Gultom, who shaped my love for music before I even knew I had one, inspired my new music. And major love to my Memorabilia Berdisco team: Satrio Hammami (aka Disconesia), a DMV-based DJ unearthing Indonesian record archives and his vision introducing them to the world, and my roommate Yealinzka Tinnovia, a cool live music entrepreneur and the kind of friend who hypes you up.

Website: https://rubinamiranda.cargo.site

Instagram: http://instagram.com/rubinawinnie

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/rubina-winnie-m-426ab5131/

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@rubinaaw

Other: My releases
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3va9IThQSk5z78bn0uXG7U?si=dc6aad582972490b