Sara Gazarek

By definition, any journey involves motion, from one point to the next. By that measure alone, Sara Gazarek’s artistic journey has been thrilling – and she’s just getting started.

That may seem like an odd assessment, since Gazarek has already tasted stardom, and since she turned 40 this past year. But in 2019, she took a giant leap in confidence and purpose with her twice GRAMMY-nominated album Thirsty Ghost, on which she unveiled previously shrouded layers of emotion and experience. Now she builds on that foundation with an arresting EP, Vanity. The title track harks back to Sarah Vaughan’s original 1951 recording, offering unusually stark nuance and introspection – qualities fit right into Gazarek’s game plan.

To put it simply, some singers concentrate on singing pretty, as Gazarek once did. Now she concentrates on singing truth.

Her hallmark craft and musicianship remain intact. “But prior to Thirsty Ghost,” says the L.A.-based singer and lyricist, “my records were beauty-focused instead of expression-focused.” In her quest for sonic perfection, she had downplayed the value of conveying her own experience and insights. She had traded consistency for the emotional connection that comes from making oneself vulnerable and taking risks. As she conceived and completed the self-produced Thirsty Ghost, however, her artistry reached a turning point. No longer afraid to fall short of predetermined standards, she had a better chance of soaring high above them.

In making this pivot into a new lane, Gazarek received vital encouragement from Kurt Elling, the preeminent male jazz singer of the 21st century. “There was something that Kurt heard in my music early on, and anytime I played New York (Elling’s home in the 2010s), he came to my shows and often shared some valuable and heartfelt insights.” In 2015, she guested on Elling’s Passion World album. This occurred in the midst of what Gazarek describes as “a five-year period of exploring new collaborations and cultivating repertoire specific to things happening in my life. Kurt encouraged me to reflect those experiences in my art. He told me, ‘Don’t be afraid to walk away from what you think people want… and to step into all of the depth, darkness, and radiance of who you really are.’ And that’s the first time I’d ever really done that.”

One such event – the near death of her mother in a horrific auto accident in 2016 – led Gazarek to face mortality on the most personal level. “My mother had to be brought back to life, then spent two weeks in the ICU and months in rehab. To have your life, your intentions – the way you’ve been existing, mirrored so vibrantly in front of you; to say, ‘Okay, who have I been, who do I want to be,’ after thinking the most primary relationship in my life was going to end: I took that with me everywhere.

“Before that, I was desperately fighting to uphold brightness and lightheartedness and happiness in my music. I saw her in the hospital the night before I had a show to do in Seattle. “My stepdad encouraged me to do the show, insisting it’s what my mother would have wanted. But singing these cheery songs, juxtaposed with the image of my mother fighting for her life just a few miles away, was traumatizing; I could barely get through it. That’s when I realized this music demands a connection, in the moment, between the song and the singer – not just sunshine and rainbows, but authenticity, if it’s going to bring people together.”

(On Vanity, she dedicates her inclusion of the song “Something Good” to her mother – who survived the surgeries and recovered – and to her enhanced appreciation for their bond.)

Taking stock of her life until then led Gazarek to end her first marriage and eventually to trust her own artistic decisions, as opposed to what her previous work had led audiences to expect. The fact that she didn’t arrive at that crossroad until her sixth album speaks to the successes she had achieved till then, all of which had reinforced the path she’d taken.

Growing up in Seattle, Gazarek found that singing in public came naturally to her: “I thought it was something everyone wanted to do.” Attending the city’s Roosevelt High, she became an assistant in the school’s renowned jazz program, which whetted her appetite for the jazz tradition. “I didn’t know what middle C was, but I could swing, and I had a really strong ear for improvisation.” When the school’s award-winning jazz orchestra entered the Essentially Ellington competition in New York, Gazarek emerged with the “Best Vocal Soloist” award. “That’s when I realized that this genre allowed you to see the human behind the music, instead of just some character in an onstage musical.”

Gazarek soon enrolled at University of Southern California, where she met and studied with her first important mentors, bassist-arranger John Clayton and vocalist Tierney Sutton. Shortly later, she won a Downbeat student music award, gaining notice that led to a tour with headliners Karrin Allyson and Diane Schuur. Soon she was recording her debut album, Yours (2005) – produced by Clayton and mixed by the legendary Al Schmitt – followed by her own two-month nationwide tour. It was heady stuff for a 23-year-old who had spent her first months in college boning up on the music theory she previously hadn’t needed to learn. (And within a few years, Gazarek herself joined the faculty at USC, where she still teaches.)

Gazarek’s subsequent studio albums – Return to You (2007), Blossom & Bee (2012), and Dream in the Blue (2016) – continued to earn critical raves and cement her reputation as an important young jazz voice. She eventually decided to strike out on her own after an 11-year musical alliance with pianist Josh Nelson, with the goal of investigating other collaborations and expanding her range of inspirations – a goal that extended into her personal life, via a fulfilling second marriage. The result of these changes, Thirsty Ghost, established Gazarek as a vital and intrepid vocal artist.

After the marathon to produce and promote Thirsty Ghost, Gazarek knew she would need time before embarking on another full-length project. Hence Vanity, a postcard from the creative frontlines – an update of her recent growth and reflection – with a snapshot of what’s to come. Perhaps the most telling performance is her cover of Fiona Apple’s “Extraordinary Machine,” where Geofrey Keezer’s arrangement elaborates on the original recording, and Alan Ferber’s horn writing adds exquisite detail to the determinedly minimalist melody. The arrangement adds big harmony and more complex rhythm, and Gazarek herself transforms the tune from a paean to self-awareness into a bold declaration of personal autonomy.

Gazarek spent much of the pandemic feeling somewhat lost in isolation. “I’m a collaborative artist,” she explains, “and on my own I definitely found it challenging to just sit at the piano” trying to create. She met the challenge in two ways. First, she teamed with three other powerhouse vocalists to form the ensemble säje (the name drawn from the initials of the women’s first names), which has garnered praise from audiences and especially other musicians. The group received a 2021 GRAMMY nomination for arranging their composition “Desert Song”.

Gazarek also used the time to sharpen her own skills. “I was busting my butt to get my singing chops together,” she explains, “focusing hard on vocal technique and sustainability and facility, and exploring a fuller spectrum of sounds in my instrument. I pushed myself to discover more freedom, the ability to access specific expressive choices that I previously hadn’t found.”

In addition to working on her instrument, Gazarek pushed herself to compose her first song, setting to music the Tennessee Williams poem “We Have Not Long to Love.” The poem provided a prototype for the music, inspiring Gazarek to create tonal colors and melodic movement to match the poem’s contours. “I’ve only ever written lyrics, and I feel very comfortable in that sphere,” she says. “I wanted to move beyond the shackles superimposed by my own projection of my lack of harmonic understanding, or my lack of pianistic versatility, and just see what might happen if I got out of my own way.” The answer here is a composition that proves haunting and uplifting at once.

In this next phase, the description “haunting and uplifting” could well become Gazarek’s family crest: one in which the light makes way for darkness, but the darkness never overwhelms.