By Peggy Ratusz
Ten years ago, Rachel Waterhouse and I met for a vocal coaching session. As we greeted one another, I found her to be open and alluring. I knew that we would be acquainted for a long time to come. I sat in my chair as her fingers floated over the keyboard. At once I allowed her voice to take my heart
hostage, as she cast her spell on a Stevie Wonder tune.
I didn’t even try to hide how much I was enjoying this private performance. I felt privileged to witness her virtuosity and expressiveness. When she was through, I told her, “All I can do for you as a new fan, is help you put a band together; as a vocal coach, I should sign up for sessions with you instead.” An emancipated musician and poet, new to town as Ms. Waterhouse was at that time, doesn’t have to play but one open mic, to create enduring synergy.
Rachel and I have collaborated a few times over the years. I find her sensitivity to arrangements and content, even with pastiches, refreshing. This predisposition is a continuation of her aptitude for songwriting. With the “soft-release” of her first full-length recording with her trio “Sister Ivy” wrapped last month to a capacity crowd at The Mothlight, we excavate some of the nooks and crannies of her process.
Your melodies meander fluidly over the chord progressions. Please delve into your process for marrying melodies with chord progressions.
I feel less like I impose melodies and chords and more like I gather them as different ingredients separately, pair them later. Often, I mess around with a theoretical concept and stumble upon a chord progression that I just get absolutely lost in. I write melodies on the fly and record them when appropriate. I write lyrics in random places, and then forget about them. I let all those things sit and mature in the recesses of my mind until they find each other and make sense. It’s kind of like making a collage.
What’s your process for choosing instrumentation for your songs?
I find the part that is missing the most, after that is low end and rhythm, so I commonly play with a bassist and drummer as my core group. It’s simpler to orchestrate that way and it allows the three of us to be free at live performances. If I had my way, I would have a horn section, choir, guitarist, organ and synth, guitarist, and percussionist on every show. For this album, we went all out with guest musicians, creating a fuller, lush sound.
The vivid stories that will be on the new record truly feel like poetry set in motion.
I write a lot of poetry. I was an English major with a professional writing concentration, which I skewed entirely to the creative writing. The vocal ditties that survive audition, plus the triumphant experiments on keyboard are the main ingredients.
Vocally it’s obvious that you’re fearless.
I have ignored every impulse to fit into a particular style of singing. I just try to be really honest about the emotions and experiences that have moved the music. I’m not scared to go in and out of different parts of my range. I don’t feel the need to remain consistent in my range.
Where does inspiration come from?
I swear the textures I want to create come from the scratched Nutcracker album I listened to on repeat when I was no more than six years old. Musically, I grew up listening to and playing a good deal of Classical music: Chopin, Debussy, Tchaikovsky, Mozart, and Bach. My father played a lot of Rush in the house as well, so that progressive element worked its way in nice and early. I spent a good bit of time in choirs and musicals and very nearly went into opera. But for me, writing my own music is more fun than learning Arias. I branched out to discover artists like Regina Spektor, The Gorillaz, Radiohead, Pink Floyd, The Mars Volta, Herbie Hancock, Funkadelic, Galactic, Air, Sly and the Family Stone, Stevie Wonder. The new waves of fusion and neo-soul, like Erykah Badu, Little Dragon, Hiatus Kaiyote, Robert Glasper, Snarky Puppy, Lalah Hathaway, Moonchild, James Blake, and Moses Sumney have been a major influence in the sound on this new record.
Lyrically: What I write precipitates from what I feel and what I feel precipitates from what I experience. Writing is an excellent avenue to process emotional waves. I am an idealist and I pepper in some of my opinions about the state of the world. Much of my inspiration comes from masks of myths, fairy tales or omens, which clothe my emotions and ideals to give them a more concrete presence without being too specific about their personal origin. I prefer to present a channel for the expression of universal emotions even though, at the root, my writing is not dissimilar to journaling.”
Listeners will discover Rachel’s introspective identity within the meditations, reflections and missives inside the new collection. “Sepia Sun” is one of my personal favorites: “Submerge yourself again, beneath the current. You’ll need a warrior’s heart to brave the dark. Or have you been in Oz too long, accustomed to the colors? When you’re living only to consume all, why would you choose a world of grey?”
A pass from the Sister Ivy website’s homepage illuminates:
Sister Ivy is the voice of the vine that weaves in and out of roots and open air. It mixes with the weeds, and climbs to lofty vistas on the limbs of grand trees. A quizzical poet with a voice brimming with turbulent emotion and heartfelt presence, she moves to join the juxtaposed, not only lyrically, but musically, with careful dissonance and timely resolve, blending the mundane with the magical, providing unexpected nourishment and plenty of food for thought. Listen at your own risk. Sister Ivy may attempt to challenge your core beliefs or (gasp) move your feet a little.
Website: sisterivy.com