Jennifer Sanon
Pit Inn,
July 25, 2009
Jennifer Sanon – vocals
George Colligan – piano
Singer Jennifer Sanon was a winner of numerous high school jazz awards before becoming a member of a select group of students who toured with Grammy Foundation funding and played at the annual show. After graduating from college, she joined the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra, handpicked by Wynton Marsalis, for the orchestra’s European tour. That is to say, Sanon has pretty much received every possible award for a 20-something jazz singer.
But all those facts are just jazz journalism guidelines. Sanon’s voice, when you hear it, is all the journalism she needs. Her singing is stunning. Every so often a singer, or musician, is so striking, natural and impressive it is hard to write about without gushing. I’ll give it a shot anyway.
Starting out the evening with three standards, “Azalea,” “No More Blues” and “Lullaby of Birdland,” Sanon showed control and confidence, finding the beautiful center of each song like a lover biting into a liqueur-filled chocolate. She does not merely sing the songs, she owns them. “My Funny Valentine” felt like some trick of recording, as if Sanon had taken the honesty of a young Ella Fitzgerald and the vulnerability of Billie Holiday. That is not hype, but apt comparison. Her scatting on “Lullaby of Birdland” set up give and take with pianist Colligan, who offered strong support and consistently interesting solos.
Sanon’s set list was planned and thoughtful. She felt as at home on the funky, sexy “Blues Are Brewin’” as on the standards. She knows how to throw in the right amount of dirt in a blues line to make it really come alive. “Night and Day” showed her emotionally maturity. She sang the feelings of the songs more than the words. She also puts the original introductions to the songs, a clear commitment to artistry that felt less like archiving than showing the song in its original frame. “Lush Life” was all the more lonely and longing for having all the verses and all the parts in place.
Whether scatting on “Blue Skies” or sexing up a blues number, she stays truthful. She makes you re-hear the song. “Nature Boy,” “Misty,” and “All of Me” all had a flowing gracefulness that was not practiced or copied, but natural and individual. How do you tell the singer from the song? With Sanon, you can’t. She sings from deep inside the songs. When she gets to a number like “Round Midnight” or “Fine and Mellow,” Sanon makes the lyrics feel like someone breathing poetry to friends rather than professionally performing jazz. It is not hard to predict Sanon’s future career. She’ll be a singer to be deeply moved by again and again.