When Esteman and Daniela Spalla sing together, it doesn’t just sound good—it feels like you’re being pulled into a slow-burn scene from a telenovela, drenched in emotion and perfect lighting. With their new single “Aeropuerto,” the duo once again delivers the kind of drama that’s both cinematic and intimately lived-in. But this time, there’s a deeper thread: long-distance love, queer vulnerability, and the quiet power of aging in a youth-obsessed industry. Their new project, Amorío, isn’t just another collab. It’s a full-length, full-heart concept album that Esteman describes as “a sonic telenovela.” In an exclusive conversation with CREMA, the Latin GRAMMY-nominated artists open up about writing across borders—both emotional and literal, and why making music in their 40s hits harder than ever, in a good way.
1From the first soft chords, “Aeropuerto” taps into the ache of loving someone who isn’t there. It’s the second single from Amorío, and according to Esteman, it’s one of the most vulnerable songs on the album.
“For me, as a male and a gay Latin singer, it is super important to show myself in my most authentic way,” Esteman tells CREMA. “I’m constantly exposing real fears, longing, and tenderness, and that feels radical itself.”
The song was born from those complicated feelings—when absence turns into uncertainty and tenderness teeters on heartbreak. “Love becomes uncertain, and separation complicates everything, and it hurts,” Esteman says. “But it feels good to express that pain without controlling your emotions.” For Daniela, it also touches something deeply personal: “I feel very nostalgic when I listen to it. It reminds me of my life in Córdoba, the years I spent in Buenos Aires trying to make my way in music. It’s about missing family, missing moments.”
2The emotional architecture behind Amorío is deliberately theatrical. Think velvet curtains, spotlight soliloquies, and unspoken feelings thick in the air. But it’s not all performance. “We approached Amorío like a sonic telenovela: heightened emotions, complex relationships, unexpected turns,” Esteman explains. “It’s campy and grand, but also intimate. It’s theatrical but rooted in truth.” That blend of irony, sincerity, and drama is where Esteman and Daniela shine. “We both aim for confessional lyrics and simple words expressing profound emotions,” Daniela says. “We’ve been very lucky to discover that we are deeply connected when writing songs.”
Pop music hasn’t always been kind to people in their 40s, especially women. But both Esteman and Daniela are showing what it looks like to thrive—and sound even better—with age. “There’s a confidence that comes with age,” Esteman says. “On stage, I feel more present than ever.” Daniela echoes the sentiment. “I’ve always feared turning 40. But last year I was recording with Camilo, selling out shows, going viral… the age I feared the most was being so generous to me.” She adds: “I’m building a new idea of 40 and success. I want to share my story so other women don’t feel so lonely in the process.”
3As a queer artist in Latin America, Esteman doesn’t shy away from visibility. But he’s aware of the risks. “It’s a mix of both pressure and freedom,” he says. “Being unapologetically myself is a form of resistance and celebration.” Daniela, who describes herself as shaped by both her Argentine roots and her adopted home in Mexico, sees their music as part of a broader Latin American identity. “Our music wouldn’t exist without what we’ve learned from Mexico,” she says. “But our Colombian and Argentine essence is still present. Amorío is a collective project. A Latin American album.”
4Between them, they’ve racked up millions of streams, award nominations, and international tours. But Amorío isn’t about industry accolades. It’s about telling stories that feel real. It’s about showing up—older, wiser, and more vulnerable than ever—and saying: this is who we are, and this is how we love. And with a headlining show at Mexico City’s Palacio de los Deportes in September, they’re ready to share that love on an even bigger stage.
