Interview with Featured Artist
René Marie
Grammy-Nominated Jazz Vocalist & Theatrical Performer
Photo Credit: John Abbott
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René Marie is a Grammy-nominated jazz vocalist, composer, arranger and theatrical performer who has entertained audiences throughout the U.S. and Europe. René was born in Warrenton, Virginia into a family of seven children. While neither of her parents were formally trained musicians, radio and records of all kinds - blues, folk, bluegrass and classical - made up the soundtrack to her childhood. During her teenage years, she sang in a few R&B bands at musical functions in her community. She composed and sang her first piece with a band when she was fifteen.
She put her musical aspirations aside for quite some time. She married a former bandmate when she was 18, worked at a bank and raised two sons. When she was 41, her older son convinced her to start singing again. She began singing in a hotel bar for tips. After making the decision to divorce her husband, who no longer supported her musical career, René plunged back into the music scene full-time. She self-produced her first CD, titled Renaissance, in 1999. In 2000, she signed onto the MaxJazz label and recorded four more CDs in four years. She also took the title role in the world premiere production of Ella and Her Fella, Frank at the Barksdale Theatre in Richmond. In 2005, she parted ways with MaxJazz in order to take more control of her own career track, and she subsequently produced two more CDs and two single releases. In 2011, she joined the Motéma label. Her 2013 CD, I Wanna Be Evil: With Love To Eartha Kitt, earned a Grammy nomination. |
Her latest release in her ever-expanding body of work is Sound of Red (Motéma, 2016), which recently garnered a second Grammy nomination for René in the category “Best Jazz Vocal Album.” It’s her first music CD containing all-original material, which provides insightful glimpses into the many small but profound turning points that are part of an individual life. “I wanted to make a record that people could go back to again and again to excavate their emotions,” says René. “We cover things over every day. We have to in order to move through the day and move through our lives.”
In addition to producing 11 music CDs and a demanding travel schedule, René’s diverse talents were combined to create her one-woman stage show, Slut Energy Theory, a play about overcoming abuse and incest. The play premiered in October 2009, and the soundtrack was released by the end of that same year. In 2010, she launched a series of vocal therapy group sessions called SLAM!, which enables her to give back by sharing her vocal philosophy with others.
“I have never forgotten the early lessons learned about the power of music,” she says. “Today, I try to imbue that feeling of emotion into every song I write and every song I sing – every time.”
In addition to producing 11 music CDs and a demanding travel schedule, René’s diverse talents were combined to create her one-woman stage show, Slut Energy Theory, a play about overcoming abuse and incest. The play premiered in October 2009, and the soundtrack was released by the end of that same year. In 2010, she launched a series of vocal therapy group sessions called SLAM!, which enables her to give back by sharing her vocal philosophy with others.
“I have never forgotten the early lessons learned about the power of music,” she says. “Today, I try to imbue that feeling of emotion into every song I write and every song I sing – every time.”
Myrna Beth Haskell, executive editor, spoke to René Marie by phone a few days after she received word that Sound of Red had been nominated for a Grammy Award for Best Jazz Vocal Album.
Your style is definitely eclectic – a mix of jazz, R&B, country and other musical genres. How would you describe your style, and how did this emerge?
I try to avoid niches. I don’t like being labeled or pigeonholed. I don’t like it if people try to keep me on a certain track. My thing is following my internal creativity. I want to release what’s inside. I guess then, my style is to avoid having a style. There is a vulnerability with things we don’t want to admit or face. I try to be as vulnerable as possible in whatever song I’m singing, whether it requires effervescent joy, embarrassment or pain.
Your style is definitely eclectic – a mix of jazz, R&B, country and other musical genres. How would you describe your style, and how did this emerge?
I try to avoid niches. I don’t like being labeled or pigeonholed. I don’t like it if people try to keep me on a certain track. My thing is following my internal creativity. I want to release what’s inside. I guess then, my style is to avoid having a style. There is a vulnerability with things we don’t want to admit or face. I try to be as vulnerable as possible in whatever song I’m singing, whether it requires effervescent joy, embarrassment or pain.
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The Sound of Red is very personal for you and your first CD with all original material. Can you tell me a bit about the process of writing those songs and what it means to perform them?
Some of the songs on there I wrote twenty years ago, and some are brand new. I wrote a couple just before going to the studio to record them. When I write lyrics, I never throw them away. I went through pieces of my lyrics and found some that were cool to be used in “Sound of Red.” You see, I came up with the title for the album before I had the song for it. On the other hand, the song “Go Home” is twenty years old. I was originally nervous about including this one in an album because it certainly isn’t a jazz piece. It’s more like a country tune, but I present it as it was originally meant to be – worn in cut-off jeans and a t-shirt, not in high heels and a tight dress. It’s become the most commented-on song. |
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René’s interesting description of how she presents this song got us talking about performance. René is known for her intimate and passionate communication with her audience. So, I asked her about singing in different venues and how she maintains this intimacy when singing at a larger venue versus a more typical jazz club venue, where she can reach out individually to those near the stage.
Performance…I really don’t like that word. I try to avoid it…singing as a “performance.” I know that people in my industry talk about performance all the time. But, for me, singing is as personal as making love, and I would never think of making love as a “performance.” If I’m by myself, singing one of my songs, and it’s bringing me to tears…no matter what the setting, this is how I sing it. When I’m on the stage in a bigger venue, there’s this physical divide. The stage is set higher and there’s more space between the audience and the singer. It can cause a barrier. I want to break down that barrier. I see the vulnerability that I bring to my songs as a bridge. It’s a way I can reach out to the furthest person in that back row.
Can you name one or two vocal performers who have influenced you the most?
Oh…well…Harry Belafonte. He has this approach that’s so joyful and unbridled and honest. You know, I grew up listening to all kinds of music. René laughs as she recalls, My dad played everything but jazz – blues, folk, classical. When I was a little bit older – I think around seventeen – I discovered jazz and Nina Simone. Nina sings with such honesty. You never listen to Nina and think she’s performing.
Theater seems to be another passion of yours. Tell me a little about your one-woman show, Slut Energy Theory. (Note: U’Dean tells her story of incest, abuse and survival, and it is a story that anyone can relate to in one way or another. The play opened with phenomenal reviews. Critic Juliet Wittman of Westward wrote, “This is a work of art, a powerful, unsentimental and original work that should blow apart all the concepts you've ever held about victimhood, survivor trauma and feminist energy, and reconfigure them in dazzling new ways.” Learn more about the play via the links below.)
I wrote both the play and the music. There is a CD of the soundtrack. It opened in Denver in October 2009 for a two-week run. I didn’t realize at first, but it was during Domestic Violence Awareness Month.
The play also ran in NY (Off Broadway) and TX.
After the play concludes, we have a talkback with healthcare professionals and a question and answer period. I am U’Dean when I answer the questions.
If someone told me that I had to choose…you can continue to sing or do the one-woman show, I would do the one-woman show. It’s been so helpful to the people who’ve come to it. When I think of this project…I feel like I’ve done the best possible thing I’ve done as a human being. That’s why I’d choose the play.
You don’t have a lot of formal training, but you’ve certainly got your own way of doing things. Tell me a little bit about SLAM! (your vocal therapy workshops).
René had some formal piano training at age nine and thirteen, but no formal voice lessons.
I was always coming from a place of apology, like I had to make an excuse for my lack of training. I don’t do this anymore. After my concerts, there would be at least two singers who would approach me with something like, “How do you sing like that?” I’d answer with, “Well…how do YOU sing?” I started doing workshops for college students. These young singers had a lot of the same teachers, and they seemed to have a formula for singing a song. There seemed to be a disconnect. There was a concept they hadn’t talked about. They needed to address what’s going on internally.
You know, jazz is male-dominated. This impacts our singing. You have your back to the musicians, too. I started to explain to them that they needed to address what’s going on, such as “Why do I keep looking at the piano player?” I wanted them to be more “aware.”
The goal of SLAM! is to reconnect you with your voice and learn how to listen to what your voice is telling you, where it wants to go and what it wants to do.
At this point, René and I went off-course and just started talking…two women having a chat about life and personal growth.
I don’t care anymore. I used to care, but the less we care about what people think, the better off we are. Laughing… I learned this from my gray hair. You know what? I have a license to wear my hair any way I want. I’m not wearing shoes that are too tight anymore either…or dresses that are, for that matter.
Performance…I really don’t like that word. I try to avoid it…singing as a “performance.” I know that people in my industry talk about performance all the time. But, for me, singing is as personal as making love, and I would never think of making love as a “performance.” If I’m by myself, singing one of my songs, and it’s bringing me to tears…no matter what the setting, this is how I sing it. When I’m on the stage in a bigger venue, there’s this physical divide. The stage is set higher and there’s more space between the audience and the singer. It can cause a barrier. I want to break down that barrier. I see the vulnerability that I bring to my songs as a bridge. It’s a way I can reach out to the furthest person in that back row.
Can you name one or two vocal performers who have influenced you the most?
Oh…well…Harry Belafonte. He has this approach that’s so joyful and unbridled and honest. You know, I grew up listening to all kinds of music. René laughs as she recalls, My dad played everything but jazz – blues, folk, classical. When I was a little bit older – I think around seventeen – I discovered jazz and Nina Simone. Nina sings with such honesty. You never listen to Nina and think she’s performing.
Theater seems to be another passion of yours. Tell me a little about your one-woman show, Slut Energy Theory. (Note: U’Dean tells her story of incest, abuse and survival, and it is a story that anyone can relate to in one way or another. The play opened with phenomenal reviews. Critic Juliet Wittman of Westward wrote, “This is a work of art, a powerful, unsentimental and original work that should blow apart all the concepts you've ever held about victimhood, survivor trauma and feminist energy, and reconfigure them in dazzling new ways.” Learn more about the play via the links below.)
I wrote both the play and the music. There is a CD of the soundtrack. It opened in Denver in October 2009 for a two-week run. I didn’t realize at first, but it was during Domestic Violence Awareness Month.
The play also ran in NY (Off Broadway) and TX.
After the play concludes, we have a talkback with healthcare professionals and a question and answer period. I am U’Dean when I answer the questions.
If someone told me that I had to choose…you can continue to sing or do the one-woman show, I would do the one-woman show. It’s been so helpful to the people who’ve come to it. When I think of this project…I feel like I’ve done the best possible thing I’ve done as a human being. That’s why I’d choose the play.
You don’t have a lot of formal training, but you’ve certainly got your own way of doing things. Tell me a little bit about SLAM! (your vocal therapy workshops).
René had some formal piano training at age nine and thirteen, but no formal voice lessons.
I was always coming from a place of apology, like I had to make an excuse for my lack of training. I don’t do this anymore. After my concerts, there would be at least two singers who would approach me with something like, “How do you sing like that?” I’d answer with, “Well…how do YOU sing?” I started doing workshops for college students. These young singers had a lot of the same teachers, and they seemed to have a formula for singing a song. There seemed to be a disconnect. There was a concept they hadn’t talked about. They needed to address what’s going on internally.
You know, jazz is male-dominated. This impacts our singing. You have your back to the musicians, too. I started to explain to them that they needed to address what’s going on, such as “Why do I keep looking at the piano player?” I wanted them to be more “aware.”
The goal of SLAM! is to reconnect you with your voice and learn how to listen to what your voice is telling you, where it wants to go and what it wants to do.
At this point, René and I went off-course and just started talking…two women having a chat about life and personal growth.
I don’t care anymore. I used to care, but the less we care about what people think, the better off we are. Laughing… I learned this from my gray hair. You know what? I have a license to wear my hair any way I want. I’m not wearing shoes that are too tight anymore either…or dresses that are, for that matter.
