Souza's Sonic Quilt

Driven by a mastery of technique and a fidelity to tradition,
Luciana Souza pays homage and claims a place for herself.

Bruce Gilman

Luciana Souza—pianist, vocalist, composer, arranger, and academic—is no household name, but she performs with her fair share of them. From Danilo Pérez to John Patitucci and guitarist Mike Stern to "longhair" ensembles like the Atlanta and the Boston Symphony Orchestras; Souza's attuned ears and extraordinary voice enable her to approach jazz from both visceral and analytical perspectives.

Whether singing bossa nova, jazz standards, or her own compositions, she seeks the essence of the material in every setting, performing with a breezy virtuosity and propulsion. Brazilian Duos, her third solo CD, reveals not only sleek and cerebral arrangements but also an assured technician who has clearly picked her accompanists carefully.

An individualist and jazz advocate with a distinctive way of taking a tune apart, Souza phrases in a manner that never distorts the melodic line or interferes with the matchless way she lives a lyric. Her timing, particularly during wordless improvisations, is as impeccable as the finest jazz instrumental players. The qualities that define Souza derive from a background not unlike that of many artists of comparable stature. She was born into a musical aristocracy where music was in the air from the moment Luciana was old enough to hear it.

The youngest of five children, Souza's family tree bears the fruit of parents who worked for a radio station's recording studio, and who, as highly regarded singer/songwriters, achieved distinction in the sixties with compositions like "Azul Contente," "Samba Só," and "Amanhã." At home, there were several instruments that the children were all encouraged to play.

Her father's access to the radio station's record library filled their home with the music of artists like Bill Holman, Stan Kenton, Duke Ellington, and even the Hi-Lo's. Says, Souza, "My father loved big band jazz and vocal music, so he was constantly playing Dorival Caymmi. My older sisters, who were especially into Tropicália, played lots of Caetano and Gil. And the exposure to Gil's drive, rhythm, and Africanism particularly inspired me."

Souza began formal music studies on guitar when she was fourteen, although she had been recording radio jingles since the age of three, which had become the cornerstone of her musical education as it involved a proximity to great musicians, an exposure to different musical styles, the necessity to create distinctive voices, and the urgency to learn tunes very quickly by ear.

By the eighties, her parents had dreamed up the idea of a family-operated, musician-friendly instrumental record company that paid fair royalties, and founded Som da Gente (Sound of the People). Says Souza, "The whole family was involved. I worked there when I was a teenager, doing secretarial stuff, clerical stuff. My brother worked there. Carla worked there. We all worked there."

Be that as it may, playing traditional Brazilian instrumental music was an act of economic suicide during the eighties, so many young instrumentalists migrated to the United States to learn how to play jazz fusion. Along with them, Souza, then in her late teens, traveled to the United States to attend Boston's prestigious Berklee College of Music.

Three years later, she walked away with her bachelor's degree in jazz composition and returned to Brazil only to resume studies four years later at the New England Conservatory where she received a master's degree in jazz studies with an emphasis in voice. And then, as if bridging continents and traditions, she joined Berklee's faculty. Her stateside career was launched when Danilo Pérez, one of the great multiculturalists of jazz, brought her into his Central Avenue project to record a 5/4, Afro-Cuban version of John Coltrane's "Impressions."

Since then Souza's output has been of such consistent quality that ranking individual discs becomes difficult. Reviewers and jazz critics from Down Beat magazine to The New York Times have marveled at her instrumental phrasing and riveting performances despite the wide variety of difficult material and the close proximity of tour dates.

Her performances are based on the hard work of her student years and are sustained by an unusual discipline and self-respect. As a musician, Souza knows how good she is, but I can't accuse Luciana Souza of not being true to her instincts. We spoke about academia, her recordings, and about the defunct record label, Som da Gente.

Brazzil—Singing advertising jingles was your first professional gig, and I'm wondering what that was like?

Souza—You know, I worked for what we call fábricas. It was as if a company like Blue Note called me to say, "Come and do background vocals for somebody." I'd go in, sing, get paid, and that's it. I don't even know what most of that stuff was. It was in the family. We all did that, you know? Nobody questioned it. I was just a singer. I sang background vocals for some people who never got into the mainstream, and I sang background for Jane Duboc when I was, I don't know, thirteen of fourteen. I recorded material with Hermeto that was never released. Yeah, I don't think anybody has that stuff any more. You know, experiments that he was doing. But it wasn't until I came back from Berklee that I really thought of myself as a musician, as a full-time musician. 

Brazzil—Is that because advanced programs in music education are stronger in the U.S. than in Brazil? 

Souza—I can't speak for other people, but for me, Berklee was the perfect place to concentrate on what I needed. It was an effective way to learn a language—a musical language—and learn it quickly. But it wasn't necessarily the place to develop artistry. I don't think anyone should go to a school, especially when it involves moving to a new country when you're eighteen years old, and expect to find everything. I don't think that school is the place for that. It's a place to collect information and make connections.

When I went to Berklee in '85, it was perfect for that. There were so many tremendous musicians, like Danilo Pérez, who has been a very important influence in my life and who I consider one of the great musicians of my generation. Besides, I had a pretty clear idea of what I wanted to get from school, and I did. I studied, I collected, and I moved back to Brazil the day after graduation. And the same thing was true with my master's. I knew why I wanted to get it and why I wanted to be in a school like NEC (New England Conservatory of Music). Besides, they both gave me scholarships, so I'm grateful.

Brazzil—Did you have to audition before becoming an assistant professor at Berklee?

Souza—Yeah, I went in for the interview, and they gave me a theme and twenty minutes to prepare it. Then I came back and taught before a jury of professors. I was basically improvising, but that's what they were judging me on. I knew how they taught because I had been around Berklee and knew their method pretty well, so I was seated in the ear training department. It's part of the performance division. Of course, I taught theory, harmony, voice, vocal arranging, ensembles, and a bunch of ear training classes. I taught and I taught.

Brazzil—Did you enjoy teaching? 

Souza—Oh, I still do. I enjoy keeping honest. The way I teach is the Socratic method. I don't say, "This is how you do it." I ask, "What do you think?" or I say, "Show me what you've been doing so far," or "I want to give you an idea about something and have you arrive at your own conclusion," as opposed to just lecturing. That's how I learned in Brazil. My whole education prior to Berklee was through observation, just by experience. Music is an experience. I mean, you can't teach what you don't know, really, because you'd be a lame teacher.

If there's something you don't know, that's okay because no one knows everything. But, you should go research it. Teaching keeps you honest with music, so you share from a place of love. Obviously, it's a hard thing to do because students can like things that you don't like; they can ask you things that you may not think they're ready to learn. But you always have to find a way to keep them in music by encouraging them to find the answers themselves. 

Brazzil—Were there any drawbacks to teaching?

Souza—Just the facts, not really any drawbacks. The way I teach requires preparation. I do a lot of thinking before I walk into a classroom. I like to be prepared for my students. I believe in listening a lot, so I make tapes for them and have them transcribe things. That requires a lot of time. So for me, there's really a conflict. When you're performing a lot, you can't dedicate yourself to preparing lessons. And being connected with a university requires that you go to and participate in meetings, so now I can't teach a lot. Teaching is something that will always be there for me. It's something that I'd eventually like to get back into. 

Brazzil—Does the analytical part of your mind ever interfere, become an end in itself rather than a funnel through which your feelings and ideas are communicated?

Souza—I would hope not, but I can't help it. I'm one of those people who spends time investigating and thinking about things. I'm constantly thinking about my instrument and ways to sing better and how I can actually let my instrument serve the music and not get in its way. When I do my vocalizing, I'm thinking, "Let me get the instrument in shape so it's supple, so it's ready for anything." That way when I'm "shedding" (practicing), when I'm studying ear-training or harmony, when I'm sitting at the piano trying to play something, I can be creative.

There's a great deal of struggle that goes with practicing. It's very demanding and requires discipline, but there's also great joy when you're able to be creative on stage and think in the moment, without running into the mind/body barriers that can get in the way. My analytical approach really facilitates being in touch with my instrument so I don't have to do it on stage.

Brazzil—Is there any special system, time of day, or place that helps you compose? 

Souza—Not really. I try to keep in touch with writing by transcribing music and by thinking through phrases, rhythms, grooves, melodic lines, and harmonies. When I hear something I like at somebody's gig, I go home and ask myself, "What was that made of? Why do I like it? What makes it so interesting?" After I've figured it out, I'm usually inspired to write something. There's really no method. It might be late a night after I've read some poetry. I've studied music enough to know that once you have an idea, it's important to put it down either on paper or on a mini-disc. I have a mini-disc on top of the piano in my living room, so if I come up with an idea, I just push record and sing to it, you know? That way it stays right there, and I can visit it later. 

Brazzil—You mentioned Danilo Pérez. What was it like working with him?

Souza—We were on tour for about a year and a half, and during that time I had the opportunity to express myself as another instrument in the band, which helped me grow immensely. At the end of every evening, I was in another place and thinking, "My God! Where was I?" Where am I now?" Danilo expects you to perform a little differently every night and to be on your toes all the time and to be ready for anything.

Don't get me wrong, I love music where you can just sit back, relax, and play what you've rehearsed. It's all there, you present it, and the people love it. But it's a whole different experience with Danilo. There's a lot you're prepared for—things that you know are going to happen, but there's a lot more you don't know. We were all aware that at any second something might happen that we weren't prepared for, so we had to be open, to listen with a certain openness.

Like playing with Hermeto, you're fully exhausted by the end of an evening—drained. Expecting the unexpected forces you to be creative. Playing with Danilo inspired me, and it still does. I mean he's like Hermeto or my father, the ultimate teacher, because he teaches without making you feel like you're learning. Being involved with his Motherland project was a tremendous education for me. Danilo was and is a tremendous influence.

Brazzil—What was your father's connection with Hermeto?

Souza—When Hermeto had just moved to São Paulo, my father made a record that came out on RCA called Caminho. It was my father, Walter Wanderley, and Hermeto on flute. It was the first recording that Hermeto ever made. They've been friends since 1964. ¹

Brazzil—How was working with Hermeto different from the other musicians you've worked with?

Souza—His presence, his music, and his teachings have tremendous weight. Anything he says, about anything, is pretty deep. As you know, Hermeto is my godfather, and he would often come to lunch or be recording at Som da Gente, and everything was pretty crazy when you were around him. I mean, everything was remarkably unexpected. He'd give you a part; you'd learn it and think, "Okay, that's how I'm going to sing it."

You figure you know what you're doing when you go into the studio. So you go in, you do a take, you go into the control room to listen back, and Hermeto says, "Okay, okay, okay, stop! I have an idea." He goes to the piano, writes something else and says, "Okay, now sing this one." And you look at it and say, "Oh, okay, but this is, uh, like . . . extremely difficult, so give me uh . . . five minutes?" "No, no, no, he says. "You get three minutes, and then you do it."

Then when you think it's all wrapped up, he comes up with a new percussion section, extends the introduction, adds a coda. He's a fountain of creativity, but after a while somebody always had to say, "Hey, enough of this! That's it! Let's move on." Otherwise, Hermeto would just keep coming up with more and more ideas. He is exhaustively nonstop.

Brazzil—I understand there was a falling out between Som da Gente and Hermeto regarding studio access and the mixing of Mundo Verde Esperança. ²

Souza—I don't know. To be quite honest with you, there's a lot of talk about why Hermeto left the label. Whatever happened, happened within the business. I've been with three labels already, and I can tell you, shit happens. My parents always did political work, as many studios do in Brazil, because you make a lot of money, and that's how labels are supported. I mean, it's business. Hermeto is still my godfather. When I performed in Rio, he sat in the first row.

Brazzil—So far all of your CD's have been released on alternative labels. Are you looking for a deal with a major label?

Souza—I'm not looking for anything. I'm happy where I am. 

Brazzil—What are the advantages of working with alternative labels? 

Souza—I can only talk about Sunnyside. I've done two records with them. You're treated humanly, and you know their financial limitations are pretty dramatic. He (François Zalacain) doesn't have money to run ads and all that kind of stuff. But you're treated fairly, and there's no intrusion in the music whatsoever. There's absolute freedom to do what you want to do as long as you discuss it and defend it. Sunnyside wants artistic statements more than anything. They're not scrutinizing numbers (sales). That's where I want to be. 

Brazzil—There's a terrific version "Embraceable You," on your first CD, An Answer to Your Silence, and I'm wondering where you found that arrangement?

Souza—That arrangement was written by a friend, a great horn player, composer, and arranger, Adam Coker. I heard him play that tune on a gig and said to myself, "Oh, man, I've got to have that! It's exactly how I want to do it." The arrangement has a very elastic mood and is really very floaty. It's Latin, but not powerfully Latin, and that's what I love about it. 

Brazzil—Tell me a little about your wordless vocals on "Backfile" from the same CD.

Souza—I've been creating sounds with my voice since I was a kid, you know? When my father used to bring home those big band records, I would listen intently, following just one instrument, and then I'd sing that line along with record. It's not something that I need to think a lot about nowadays. It comes naturally to me. Choosing syllables that are complimentary to a saxophone's sound and counting the tune off really fast and then actually having to make it through the melody is what's fun about "Backfile." 

Brazzil—On your second CD, you set Elizabeth Bishop's poetry to music, and I'm wondering if you see any parallels between the way Bishop wrote poetry and your own approach to composition?

Souza—I've read a lot about her life, a few biographies and a large book of her letters, which she wrote to people over the years. I wouldn't say that there's a parallel, but one of the things that I've always admired about her, from reading her letters, is the fact that she wrote very little poetry. She wrote 103 poems and published 3 books of poetry. That's it. She wasn't prolific in terms of quantity, but the quality is outstanding.

There was one poem that had taken her 15 years to write because she wasn't satisfied with one word. I admire that a lot. I don't know if I'd have the guts to do that, to not finish a song because I wasn't satisfied with the final chord or something like that, but she was thorough.

I don't think she was being anal about it because you just don't put something out that's not ready, you know? She didn't feel she needed to put anything out if it didn't have quality. I appreciate that. There is a certain peace about that even though as an alcoholic and just a very troubled person she was not peaceful at all.

Brazzil—Can you identify with her tortured artist image?

Souza—No, not at all. I mean, I feel like I belong to a great community of musicians and artists. I don't want to sound happy-giggly about it, but I think if we made the choice to be jazz musicians—and I include myself as a jazz musician, not just a jazz singer—there's a certain life and lifestyle you embrace. I don't have any conflicts about that. When I need money, I go to work. When I need to make more money, I teach. And if I'm having a crisis and can't write, I'll sing somebody else's music.

I'm pretty honest about that because I've learned from my parents example. They've been musicians, and they've been business people. My parents came from nothing and they made something of themselves. They helped other people and built a beautiful label in Brazil that lasted for ten years. They put out amazing music and helped spread the word about Brazilian instrumental music. I feel that the lessons they taught me, and which they continue to teach me every day, are to be as honest as I can about my music and to make money with it so I can live decently. I'm able to do this in the United States, and I will. 

Brazzil—Did you have a particular concept or theme in mind for Brazilian Duos?

Souza—No, just the transparency of the instruments, the voice and the guitar, being as close together as possible. The idea was to capture the music as if it were a live performance. It was done live to DAT, completely live. I used two different mikes at the same time, and the guitar players also had two mikes. I wanted to just sing the songs as they are, do very simple arrangements, and honor the tunes. Those are great tunes; there's really nothing to mess with. I'm so happy with the results that I don't think I'd do anything differently. 

Brazzil—The sound is so transparent that I'm wondering how long the recording process took.

Souza—Oh, now you got me. It was done in parts. My father and Marco (Pereira) recorded in São Paulo toward the end of 2000, and then Romero (Lubambo) and I recorded here (New York) the following March. With my dad, we did many, many more takes because he has asthma and was wheezing a lot during the recording. And since we were recording so closely together and completely live, it was something I couldn't deal with.

I had to tell him, "You know, Dad, I can't use that. We've got to do it again." We did several takes on each tune and were absolutely tired of doing them, but there was a lot of integrity in each. And we've lived with some of them even when I thought, "Oh, man, I'm not singing too great here," because my breathing or my phrasing was off. 

Brazzil—Your interplay with Marco Pereira is one of the most exciting facets of the CD. Is his ability to draw energy and feed it back as spectacular as it is understated? ³ 

Souza—Man, he's so powerful, it's scary! I'm such a huge fan of his. Marco has such a special sound and way of sensing dynamics within the instrument. I've always wanted to record with him. But it's always hard going to Brazil and finding people of his caliber with time to spare. So I sent him the music and all the arrangements long before our session. Everything had been written out, so when we met the day of the recording session, we just went into the studio and rehearsed and recorded, rehearsed and recorded, each tune like that. It was very spontaneous. 

Brazzil—"Amanhã" sounds so familiar, yet so fresh, especially with the new 3/4 bridge. Why is it still such a "hymn of hope"?

Souza—It's a very simple song that has all the elements of a hit. It's happy, the melody is very diatonic, and the lyrics say, "There's a tomorrow coming, and people will be joyous. Tomorrow there's a future for us. We're not going to be here, under this darkness." Within the climate of Brazil's dictatorship, the lyrics were often perceived as subversive or even as an attempt to incite people. It's a funny tune that actually became a big hit, and it was played on the radio for months. You know, when I was in Japan, some people came up to me and said, "Oh, your parents! Your father wrote . . . " and they sang a little bit of "Amanhã." These were people in their late fifties or sixties. It was really quite lovely.

Brazzil—Does having various projects running simultaneously ever stretch you a little too thin to perform with conviction?

Souza—You know, when I receive invitations from people, if I have the time and if I'm interested in the project, I take it. This kind of approach has given me opportunities to travel to different places musically and learn new things. Singing with an orchestra is a completely different experience than singing with a quintet or with just a guitar player. All that eclecticism and diversity enriches me musically. I really don't have to be a specialist in anything right now. If I get an invitation and feel like I have something to offer, that I can contribute, I'll usually do it. 

Brazzil—Are there any plans to record more Brazilian albums; for example, a Djavan or Milton Nascimento song book?

Souza—That's an idea that I've always had going on in my head. I would love to do something like that just for my own selfish pleasure. There are many Brazilian composers that I'd like to record, but I don't need to rescue their music. I love Ary Barroso, but Gal (Costa) has done a great recording of Ary's music, so I don't need to do one. She's also done a great recording of Dorival (Caymmi). Only I love to sing him, so on Duos I sang "Saudade da Bahia," which was not intended as an homage. It's just a song I love that has great meaning for me. I also sang Djavan's "Romance," and I sang a tune I learned from Milton—Toninho Horta's "Viver de Amor." 

Brazzil—What's next?

Souza—There are a lot of things we can still do with Brazilian Duos. Besides, it's a nice project to travel with. It's very compact, very light, and there's a lot of freedom in the music. I have quite a few gigs with Romero coming up, one in New York where I'm going to do half the week with Romero and half the week with a quintet, and I'll be trying new things with both.

Brazzil—Any recording plans?

 Souza—Well, yes, but it's too early to say. I'll probably change my mind, and people would hold me responsible, so I'd rather just let it happen.

THE SONGS

Pra Dizer Adeus (Edu Lobo/Torquato Neto) Adeus, vou pra não voltar E onde quer que eu vá Sei que vou sozinho Tão sozinho amor Nem é bom pensar Que eu não volto mais Desse meu caminho Ah, pena eu não saber Como te contar Que o amor foi tanto E no entanto eu queria dizer Vem, eu só sei dizer vem Nem que seja só Prá dizer adeus

To Say Goodbye Goodbye, I'm leaving and I won't come back And no matter where I go I know I'll be alone   So lonely, love It's no good to think That I won't return From this journey I'm afraid I don't know How to tell you That my love was so intense But anyway, I'd like to say Come, that's all I'll say, come Even if it's only To say goodbye

 

Amanhã (Walter Santos/Tereza Souza) Vê que amanhã mais lindo que vem surgindo Tem gente indo tem gente vindo Tudo é certeza de se encontrar Neste amanhã certeza tanta beleza Já não existe mais gente triste Tudo é certeza de se encontrar Vão se encontrando, vão Vão se dando a mão Se querrendo bem Todo mundo irmão Vão sorrindo, vão Que amanhã mais lindo que vem Vem com certeza, vem sem tristeza, vem Que beleza, vem Tanta paz que tem, tanto amor que tem Tanta gente vai Tanta gente vem Neste amanhã certeza tanta beleza Já não existe mais gente triste Tudo é certeza de se encontrar

Tomorrow See what a beautiful tomorrow is coming There are people going, people coming You're sure to find everything Lots of beauty in this tomorrow There are no more sad people You're sure to find everything They'll meet They'll shake hands And like each other Like brothers They'll smile Because there's a beautiful tomorrow coming It's certainly coming, without sadness, it's coming How beautiful, it's coming So much peace, so much love So many people going So many people coming Lots of beauty in this tomorrow There are no more sad people You're sure to find everything

 

Eu Não Existo Sem Você (Antônio Carlos Jobim/Vinícius de Moraes) Eu sei e você sabe já que a vida quis assim Que nada neste mundo levará você de mim Eu sei e você sabe que a distância não existe E todo grande amor só é bem grande se for triste Por isso meu amor não tenho medo de sofrer Pois todos os caminhos me encaminham pra você Assim como o oceano só é belo com o luar Assim como a canção só tem razão se se cantar Assim como uma nuvem só acontece se chover Assim como o poeta só é grande se sofrer Assim como viver sem ter amor não é viver Não há você sem mim Eu não existo sem você

I Don't Exist Without You I know and you know that's the way life wants it That nothing in this world will take you away from me I know and you know there's no distance And that every great love has sadness So I'm not afraid to suffer, my love Because every road brings me to you Just like the ocean is lucent only under the moonlight Just like a song only makes sense if it's sung Just like a cloud only appears if it rains Just like the poet is only great if he suffers Just like living without your love is not living There is no you without me I don't exist without you

Selected Discography:
 

Artist	Title	Label	Date
Luciana Souza	Brazilian Duos	Sunnyside	2001
Danilo Pérez	Motherland	Verve	2000
Luciana Souza	The Poems of Elizabeth Bishop	Sunnyside	2000
Luciana Souza	An Answer to Your Silence	NYC	1998
Danilo Pérez	Central Avenue	Impulse	1998

Official Web Site:  http://www.lucianasouza.com  

^1. Hermeto's first recording as a flautist was on the LP by Walter Santos. Nonetheless, Hermeto had made a number of earlier recordings as an accordionist including "Boîte em Sua Casa" (A Night Club in Your Home) with his brother, pianist José Neto; "Subindo o Morro" (Going Up the Hill) with a carioca singer named Pernambuco do Pandeiro; and a recording with an orchestra in Recife conducted by Maestro Guio de Moraes. The Santos recording, however, was the first that got any kind of distribution or airplay. To read more about Hermeto Pascoal see  "Snapshots of Sound" in the February 2002 back issue of Brazzil (http://www.brazzil.com).

^2. Hermeto's falling out with Som da Gente, at least in terms of business, occurred when Hermeto's band was recording Mundo Verde Esperança in 1989. This was a big election year, and the studio was completely tied up with recording political ads. The band had basically recorded the entire project and was beginning to mix the record, but Hermeto could never get access to the studio. Som da Gente kept putting him off so they could make money. Hermeto eventually threw up his hands and completely abandoned the project. Polygram later tried to buy the master tapes but Som da Gente wanted something like $50,000, because of all the expenses. Polygram balked. Hermeto now shows no interest in the record, which is too bad because it is extraordinary.

^3. On Brazilian Duos, Marco Pereira uses an 8-string guitar, tuned E, B, G, D, A, E, B, F# that combines the classical 6-strings guitar, the Brazilian 7-strings guitar, and a bass all together. To read more about Marco Pereira see "Acoustic Assurance" in the January 2001 back issue of Brazzil  http://www.brazzil.com).

Bruce Gilman, music editor for Brazzil magazine, received his Masters degree in music from California Institute of the Arts. He is the recipient of three government grants that have allowed him to research traditional music in China, India, and Brazil. His articles on Brazilian music have been translated and published in Dutch, German, Portuguese, Serbian, and Spanish. You can reach him through his e-mail: cuica@interworld.net

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