By Terry Perkins
In 1996, singer René Marie returned to performing music professionally for the first time since she was a teenager more than two decades earlier. After playing small local clubs in Roanoke, Virginia, she moved to Richmond, began playing throughout the Tidewater region and released a self-produced recording, Renaissance, in 1998. MarieÃÂs reputation continued to grow, and she soon landed a headlining spot at Washington, D.C.ÃÂs acclaimed jazz club, Blues Alley. In the audience that night was Rich McDonnell, founder of the St. Louis-based MAXJAZZ label. McDonnell immediately signed Marie to his label, and her debut release in 2000 on MAXJAZZ, How Can I Keep From Singing?, earned critical raves àand an award as Best Jazz Vocalist from the Association for Independent Music. Her 2001 follow up recording, Vertigo, firmly established Marie as one of the most exciting and eclectic signers on the contemporary jazz scene. During a recent telephone conversation from her home in Atlanta, Marie talked about her unusual career path, her approach to performing and songwriting, and the current state of jazz vocals.
ALL ABOUT JAZZ:You first began singing and playing piano professionally when you were in high school. But you really werenÃÂt performing jazz at that early stage of your career. Did you grow up listening to jazz?
RENE MARIE: I really didnÃÂt even know anything about jazz until I began playing professionally when I was 15. Prior to that, I listening first to whatever my dad put on the record player ÃÂ everything from Mitch Miller and Hank Williams to Harry Belafonte, Ravel and Copeland. Basically, everything BUT jazz. And when I was a teenager, I listened to rock, pop, R&B and since I was politically minded, to Gil Scott-Heron and the Last Poets. But when I was performing back then, I stuck to things like Roberta Flack songs. I was mostly performing at school functions and at the Y, but also at some clubs where my Mom had to be there with me because of my age.
AAJ: You got married at an early age, had a couple of children and decided to put your singing career on hold to raise them. But you never really lost your love for music, did you?
RM: I still sung at home, with the kids and when friends or relatives came over. I was always singing or trying to learn something on the piano, but not with the idea of trying to get back into music professionally. It was just for fun, as it always had been.
AAJ: But thatÃÂs also when you really began to develop an interest in jazz singing, through listening to Ella Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughan and others, wasnÃÂt it?
RM: I loved listening to Sarah and Ella, and also to Cleo Laine, who had such a great range. And while I was singing along with them, I would try and figure out how they got their voices to do certain things. So I would practice that way. In retrospect, what I was doing was much akin to taking lessons. For example, I would say to myself, what can I do to elongate my chords or thicken them. Or I would try to breathe like them or scat like them.
AAJ: Was there a specific impetus that got you back into singing professionally?
RM: It was in 1996, and my oldest son was home from college and went to a restaurant. He called me from there and said, ÃÂMom, youÃÂve got to come to this restaurant. ThereÃÂs this lady singing here and sheÃÂs terrible! I know you can sing better than that.ÃÂ
So just out of curiosity, I went and met him at the restaurant. While we were listening, he said, ÃÂMom, you should get back into singing.ÃÂ And I offered all these excuses why I couldnÃÂt. IÃÂm too old, I donÃÂt know anything about jazz. Later at home, he was talking to his father and brother about it while we were all sitting at the table. They said if you think you can make money singing, try it out and if it works, then you can quit your part-time job at the bank. But it took me a month to get some tunes together, then get the nerve to go back to that same restaurant and talk to that same group and ask them if I could play some songs when they took a break. And they were very gracious about it.
Even after that it took awhile to get my nerve up to approach a musician friend and ask to sit in with his band. It was very tentative. I just wanted to see if I could really do it or not. I was testing myself ÃÂ trying to fit it into my life. Back then I was a JehovahÃÂs Witness, and there was that constant tension between singing in a nightclub and trying to go to the Kingdom Hall and live by those tenets. That tension lasted for a couple of years before I finally decided to leave that religion.
AAJ: So you were making the commitment to music. By this time you had your own group, didnÃÂt you?
RM: It was a four-piece band with a cornet player. We played at the Ramada Inn in Roanoke. I have to laugh when I think about that place ÃÂ playing in a funny-shaped room where the stage was an afterthought. But within a yearÃÂs time, I had my own trio and it developed from there. Frankly, I was surprised about how quickly it built
AAJ: 1998 was a real turning point for you. You recorded a CD and ended up moving to Richmond.
RM: It was a turning point in many ways. That recording proved to be the issue ÃÂ at least it was propped up to be ÃÂ that basically ended my marriage. I was going to a lot of rehearsals for the CD, and my husband gave me an ultimatum: quit singing or leave the house. So I left that night. There was some violence that night too, which simply strengthened my intuition that I needed to leave anyway.
I ended up moving to Richmond and performing there. I was still singing in Roanoke, and also began singing in Lynchburg. Then I got a break by getting a job in D.C. at Blues Alley, and thatÃÂs when I met Rich McDonnell ÃÂ my first night singing there.
AAJ: On your MAXJAZZ recordings itÃÂs really interesting to hear you sing tunes that are not usually thought of as being jazz songs. ÃÂTennessee Waltz, ÃÂBlackbirdÃÂ by Lennon and McCartney. Do you think the early influence of listening to so many styles of music ÃÂ and coming to jazz late ÃÂ makes you more open to adapting those songs to a jazz format?
RM: I canÃÂt exclude songs like ÃÂTennessee Waltz.ÃÂ IÃÂd feel like half a person if I did. ItÃÂs part of my roots, part of my personality. When I listen to my version of it on my very first CD, I think thereÃÂs just more of me in ÃÂTennessee WaltzÃÂ then there is in a traditional jazz song like ÃÂSleeping Bee.ÃÂ ItÃÂs like thereÃÂs a touchstone inside it that reverberates when I sing it. ThereÃÂs no way I could leave it behind ÃÂ no way! IÃÂd feel like a traitor.
AAJ: IÃÂve seen you perform in a small jazz club, in a concert hall and at a large outdoor festival. You always seem to be able to connect strongly with the audience. Do you a certain approach to build that connection?
RM: Man, IÃÂm winging it! Basically, itÃÂs a symbiotic thing. Whatever IÃÂm getting from an audience, I try to give back something else to create the energy I need to keep going. Sometimes when I think itÃÂs too quiet, IÃÂve even asked audiences, ÃÂYou guys are so quiet. Is everything okay out there?ÃÂ And they tell me theyÃÂre really listening. And I realize thatÃÂs just as much of a compliment as applause.
AAJ: It seems thereÃÂs been a dramatic increase in the popularity of jazz vocalists lately. A lot of younger singers are getting critical notice, and some ÃÂ such as Norah Jones, for example ÃÂ are crossing over to mainstream audiences. Do you have any thoughts about the state of jazz vocals today?
RM: Yes, I do have some thoughts. When I hear jazz vocalists on the radio, there seem to be very few that pique my interest. ThereÃÂs just no meat on the bones! It seems to be all technique and not much emotion ÃÂ not much melodic intrigue. I donÃÂt knowÃÂ
it just boring. The thing these days seems to be to play it safe. But boy, when you do hear a vocalist whoÃÂs not playing it safe ÃÂ thatÃÂs got something interesting to say ÃÂ IÃÂm right in there. For instance, I love what Kurt Elling is doing. And I really love a Brazilian singer named Claudia Villela. SheÃÂs great. But actually, I find myself listening to musicians like Dave Douglas, David Murray and Henry Threadgill more than I do to jazz vocalists. I think their music is unpredictable and exciting ÃÂ and thatÃÂs what IÃÂm after too. The last thing I want to be is boring and predictable. Even if my music makes some people uncomfortable or go away saying, ÃÂWhat was thatÃÂ ÃÂ thatÃÂs much better than being boring and predictable.
AAJ: What do you have coming up as far as new projects?
RM: IÃÂm so excited! WeÃÂre going to be doing a live recording at the Jazz Standard in New York City. WeÃÂll be recording for three days over Thanksgiving weekend. We have about 15 to 20 songs ÃÂ a third of them my own originals. So weÃÂll have plenty of tunes to choose from for the recording. And IÃÂm also happy because IÃÂll be doing the recording with my own guys ÃÂ my band.
AAJ: Talk a little bit about your band.
RM: IÃÂve been traveling with my regular guys for about a year, but IÃÂve been working with them longer than that. Elias Bailey on bass and T. Howard Curtis III on drums have worked with me since 1998 when I was in Richmond. Elias has such feeling and emotion when he plays, and Howard is such a well-rounded musician. His background includes classical drum work as well as African percussion. My pianist is John Toomey, and IÃÂve been working with him for two years. I love the quirky sense of humor he has in his playing. ItÃÂs sardonic and sarcastic, but also extremely beautiful. We really think alike musically.
Over the past year, IÃÂve really made it my goal for us to travel together. I need that consistency of sound and the quality in the music you just canÃÂt get with a pickup band ÃÂ no matter how good they may be. And whatÃÂs really great is that everyone in the band has no problem with egos. I know that sounds highly implausible, but itÃÂs true. IÃÂm really luckyÃÂ
and I know it. I thank these guys every time we play.,