Marina Albero: Musical Nomad

The city of Seattle is the last stop of the figurative continental big-city express on the west coast of the United States. Upon arrival, passengers are blocked by the Canadian border to the north, the high Cascade mountains to the east, and the Salish Sea to the west. Beyond the inland sea that is the Salish to the west, is yet another high mountain range covering the Olympic Peninsula. One arrives here for a reason, either for a planned visit or perhaps unwittingly, to stay. There is no "passing through." Many are intoxicated by the raw, natural beauty of the area, as well as the welcoming spirit of its inhabitants. Since the gold rush in the Yukon country at the turn of the twentieth century, the city has held the spirit of adventure, of future possibilities. In the meantime, it has a way of caressing you, of making you feel as though the maritime cloud layer that often blankets the city is a secure, safe place to venture and start anew. In music, Ray Charles discovered this in the late 1940's in the form of fellow musicians such as Quincy Jones and Ernestine Anderson. He could live and breathe here as a Black and blind musician unlike in his native Georgia. In the fall of 2014, Barcelona born pianist Marina Albero arrived bearing the same needs, the same goals.

Albero had a Seattle connection in hand, having spent time there in 1992 as a twelve-year-old. Her father, iconic Catalan musician / composer Marian Albero, was visiting to rehearse for a play to be presented at the Summer Olympic Games being held in Barcelona later that summer. The play was produced by Seattle-based One Reel and directed by Linda Hartzell, director of Seattle Children's Theatre. During her time here, the then twelve-year-old Marina was introduced to the hammered dulcimer, an instrument she could dive into unimpeded by studies and the instructions of adults. It allowed her to use her imagination to create melodies and rhythmic impulses. It was the beginning of her interest in, and natural talent for, the art of improvisation. She too became enamored with the breathtaking natural beauty of the Pacific Northwest, and the friendly, welcoming spirit of its people. As well, her father knew, even then, that the world would hear his daughter's music.

Albero arrived with two children just on the edge of their formative years. She felt strongly that Seattle would provide a better environment for the children than a larger city like New York could provide. Her initial goals were simple and forthright. "I came to America with a whole musical point and goal which was learning and playing American music with American musicians," she says, plainly and succinctly.

Tasked with the everyday responsibilities of parenthood, she would try to establish herself as a local musician. She would do just that, and quicker than one might have imagined. That creative burst would as well identify her as a unique, highly creative, serious international presence that defied category, but fit comfortably in the jazz community. It was fellowship within that community that opened her mind and technique by allowing her to improvise, and play how she wanted.

By that time. Albero had well established herself as a performing musician, and had released the independently produced triple album A Life Soundtrack (Self-Produced, 2019). Her musical style was a true reflection of her life in music, the recording containing newly recorded tracks with Seattle musicians, as well as a 2008 studio session in Spain with friends and family members—highly skilled musicians all. Seattle was an entry portal into jazz and the blues, an additive to her life in folk, classical and flamenco forms, accelerated by the musical give and take of her life that had colored her creative persona with a myriad of forms.

Albero's musical evolution has seemingly taken place in phases of opportunity that arose over the natural course of her life. Her childhood spent with a musical family was the beginning of her journey. At the time. Spain was transitioning from the Franco dictatorship to democracy. Catalan artists were not permitted to perform in their native language under Franco's decades-long regime. The Albero family took to performing in the streets to bring the language and Catalan music and performance back to the people. She gained not only musical experience, but learned the responsibilities of activism and pride in her native culture.

At fifteen, she journeyed to Cuba with family members to study classical piano under the direction of master teacher Teresita Junco. She would become close friends with classical and improvising pianist Aldo Lopez-Gavilan, Junco's son. The infectious rhythms and musical properties of the island were revealed to her not by playing piano, but by going out dancing with friends to the rich tapestry of sounds in La Habana.

Upon returning to Spain, her piano studies, which now wandered well beyond the boundaries of her training as a classical player, led her to flamenco inflections that arrived from the south of Spain and jazz harmonizations and improvisations penetrating her ever-evolving, original piano style.

Her aforementioned journey to the United States by way of Seattle was next, and Albero was keen to dive deeply into American jazz and blues the only way she knew how—by getting out and playing with American jazz musicians. The Seattle scene was fertile, and soon she was performing at the Ballard Jazz Festival, and the city's top jazz club, Tula's. Her bandmates included D’Vonne Lewis, Chuck Deardorf, Ben Thomas, Jeff Busch, Evan Flory-Barnes, Jeff Johnson and multi instrumentalist Hans Teuber. Teuber was also the music director for Teatro Zinzanni, a performance-based dinner club that would supply Albero with income and staying power in the states. Norm Langill, the founder of One Reel was the founder of Zinzanni as well, and a valuable connection for Albero's residence in the Emerald City. Her children adapted to their new life, along the way joining their mother as trilingual residents of one of America's most beautiful and culturally rich cities.

Those well acquainted with Albero's profound virtuosity, and more importantly, her overall sound began to hear the subtle changes in her playing, offering hints of the music that surrounded her in Seattle. She began performing within different musical configurations, sporting a trio one night and a larger band the next. Her solo work was immaculate as well.

Many of her works were arranged into large ensemble pieces. She was named resident artist for the 2021 Earshot Jazz Festival in Seattle, selling out four concerts performed in different formats. Her musical endeavors were adventurous to say the least, pitting her unique skill set up against supremely challenging circumstances. Her multicultural, multi-dimensional performance partnered with Indian and now Shakti violinist Ganesh Rajagopalan, was a highlight not only of the festival but of the entire music calendar of a year that represented the cultural breakout from two years of pandemic shutdown. Albero's vision and imagination was put into action and was resulting in brilliance accessible to an audience which in that time was hungering not only for live music, but tangible fragments of beauty. Forays into the hammered dulcimer included experimental tunings that cast the diatonic instrument into the chromatic world. Occasionally she would appear on vibraphone, or perform electrically on both Wurlitzer electric piano or the more rockish keytar. In any iteration of her musical being, Albero consistently captured the audience not only with her virtuosity, but with her infectious humanity. In the process of her Seattle evolution, the jazz she grew up listening to in her family home, the blues and all the variant strands of Black American music, began to populate within her collective creative consciousness and became evident in her approach.

Nine years into her sojourn in Seattle, in April of 2023, Albero's children had both chosen paths of study that led them back to Barcelona. Her daughter Serena had developed into a vocalist of stunning resonance; her son Marcel an intuitive and dedicated student of sound engineering. Her son's leaving, as any parent, in particular a single parent would know, triggered an impulse within her that represented freedom, an ability to take steps for herself after so many years of her children's concerns being first and foremost. "I realized for the first time in my forty odd years of life, I could do whatever I wanted without affecting anybody else in my family. It's a beautiful feeling, especially when you still feel strong, full of energy and ideas," she says. Her newfound freedom in hand, Albero drifted back to her original ethos upon arriving here from Spain of playing American music with American musicians. That goal had become part of her everyday life in every way, whether performing or teaching privately or at the prestigious Cornish College of the Arts. But she had a desire to explore and dig deep into the Black American music tradition by taking residencies, not visitations, to key locations of the music's evolution.

It is commonly believed that American artists are constantly endeavoring to define what it means to be an American artist, what indeed it means to simply be American. This is a process that has been renewed time and time again. In jazz, that means wading through a history that has positioned the music as the only truly original American art form. Its identity is rooted in Black struggle, and shared on a worldwide scale. It has been reimagined, expressing the here and now of whatever culture embraces it. But no matter who interprets the music, or where that interpretation occurs, it is Black music rooted in the blues, embellished by swing and reflective of the Black experience in the Americas. That truth has a home, and that home lies in the river delta of the mighty Mississippi. It all runs downhill to the city of New Orleans. Albero had a fascination with that rooted tradition and wanted to live it, breathe it, allow it to cohabitate with all she had taken forward from her remarkable life in music. She decided to pay a visit to the Crescent City and to Los Angeles as well to see if either would be a comfortable and fruitful place to call home in the winter months. "New Orleans had always been in the back of my mind. I have my musical places I want to go—New Orleans, Brazil, West Africa and India," she acknowledges.

She learned much from her two trips. Essentially she saw Los Angeles as too spread out to her liking, and very industry oriented. New Orleans on the other hand, she saw as very welcoming, added to her longtime desire to take residency there. She was easily able to meet other musicians and sit in, to feel the vibrancy of the current music scene there. "Once they learn you are a musician, they invite you to sit in. It's very welcoming, very open, and very easy to find the venues. In Los Angeles, it was more of an industry vibe. Things happen more by connections in closed spaces like studios and offices, not public spaces," she observes.

Her trial runs pointed her directly south to New Orleans for a four-month residency beginning in January of 2024. She left her home and most of her things in Seattle, and arrived with very few possessions, without income aside from a few Zoom students, and without knowing any musicians in the city except for multi-reedist Rex Gregory whom she had become acquainted with during Gregory's four-year, pre-pandemic stay in Seattle. Meeting other musicians, among them future contributors to her recording project, was made easy by the wide open local music scene that manages to escape the notice of most tourists in the city. The risk level was high for her—she had to book studio time in advance, and needed to write and arrange new material born in her new-found digs in New Orleans. How was she to find the right musicians to interpret her new works? "Just going to the venues, talking to the musicians on the street during their breaks. It's an easy, friendly environment. The whole vibe is very welcoming, and it was easy to meet people and make new friends," she recalls. "You need to go observe, be discreet, be humble. That's a beautiful exercise, as a musician and as a person."

Albero adjusted to her new environment, and more importantly, her new lifestyle during this self-imposed residency. She didn't have a car, and spent days biking around the city, getting a basic feel for the vibe of the town. It was like starting all over again, as she had experienced so many times before, most recently in Seattle. She spent many days at home alone, writing, utilizing the minimal gear she had access to. Her baby grand piano at home was replaced by an older, plastic keyboard. While this new adventure would bring joy, create new friendships and provide a rewarding experience musically, it was serious business. Suddenly, she had time on her hands, aside from a few Zoom students, she had all day alone with her music. She wasn't in New Orleans to party, as many new arrivals are. "I had no car, no home, no gear, I was nobody," she says. "It was between scary and inspiring, and some days I thought I was crazy. Nobody was expecting anything, it was all about me and my goals. I had many days of staying home alone, writing. During Mardi Gras, I barely went out. I wasn't there for the party, I was there for the music," she states strongly. Over the course of the weeks and months ahead, Albero met and played with a variety of NOLA musicians, perhaps none as impactful as Cuban artist YUSA Born and raised in the Buena Vista district of La Habana, Yusa is equally proficient on Cuban tres, guitar, bass, keyboards, percussion instruments and voice. She became more than a musical collaborator for Albero in her new city. "She became a sister, I felt I had somebody that really cared for me which was very meaningful," she says.

Going into her recording sessions, she would only perform with two musicians with whom she was familiar. Saxophonist Gregory hails from Houston, but attended college in New Orleans and has lived there since, save his brief residence in Seattle that was cut short by the pandemic. Vocalist Serena, her daughter, brought her comfort both musically and emotionally. Her mother Laura Tapias, a highly regarded artist in Catalan music and theater paid her a visit as well. But Albero was destined to create a recording without overdubs, in a space without isolation, performing mostly new music with a group of musicians she had largely met in the clubs and on the streets of the Crescent City. It was a classic risk and reward process. Still, Albero managed to find a group of players that not only fit into her personal vision, but a group who sought to integrate themselves within it.

Bassist/composer Amina Scott is a rising star on the international jazz scene, having made a name for herself performing and being mentored by Dee Dee Bridgewater. Scott performs in her trio and writes and plays bass in her big band. The few solo project recordings she has produced are brilliant. Drummer Pedro Segundo was brought to Albero's attention by her bass playing brother, Bori Albero who saw him perform in London. The Lisbon-raised drummer/percussionist splits his time between London, where he is the house drummer at Ronnie Scott's, and New Orleans. Jafet Perez arrived in the delta country from the Dominican Republic, and just as it has happened for centuries, brings sounds from the Caribbean to the delta of the mighty Mississippi. Trumpeter David Navarro like Gregory, arrived from Houston and never left. More would be added to the cast, but Albero had the core group she needed to move forward. She even had a sound engineer secured in Seattle native Justin Armstrong—a nice connection from home in the Pacific Northwest.

She decided to record six tracks, three previously unreleased, two written in New Orleans and one she had recorded before One of her unreleased tunes, "Blau Blueset," meaning Blue seven in Catalan, is a suite that begins with a slow procession and proceeds with a second line in 7/4. She had performed a big band arrangement of it as resident artist at Seattle's Earshot Jazz Festival, but had never recorded it in studio. The heart of the tune has always seemed to Albero to belong to New Orleans. "It always felt like a New Orleans vibe, even though I had never been there," she reminisces.

Her recording session that would culminate at The Ellis Marsalis Center would be the final chapter of not only her musical quest in the city, but her gathering of the spirit of New Orleans that could only be accessed by living there in everyday life during a time of year that wasn't prone to tourism. It wasn't always easy.

If her writing was to bear the mark of New Orleans and for that matter, the long lineage of the blues and jazz music, Albero would have to experience the ups and downs of life in the deep delta south. There were startling differences culturally, socially and meteorologically from her residence over the past ten years in the maritime northwest. The city will tell you in no uncertain terms whether it's time to stay or if it's time to leave. "The city is hard, and she lets you know. She asks, 'Are you ready for this?' The city is challenging and there's all this energy. You need to be very respectful," says Albero. "It's a rough city because of the weather, the climate and the bugs. It's a very poor state. It's a very hard spot. But New Orleans has this magic and they keep it somehow. A lot of musicians move there because of this, and it creates a real vibrancy."

It wasn't just the history, or some sense of responsibility to maintain the traditions embedded in the city's culture. It was in the everyday, individual actions, the tao of the everyday that somehow seemed to allow the magic to continue. "There is something magical in that city. They take life one day at a time. How they celebrate, how they eat, the importance of family, these things have not gone away," says Albero, already looking forward to her return from Seattle after the sweltering heat of summer subsides. "For me, it has been like an experience that reminded me of something between La Habana and New York," she observes, leaning on the memories of her nomadic journey through music over the course of her life.

Albero envisioned two days of session work, recording in two different quintets and a brass band treatment of one tune, "Blau Blueset." She had fallen in love with the sound of brass bands while biking around the city, observing the sights and sounds of her new residence. "I fell in love with the brass bands from seeing them daily on the streets. I love dancing and they have that kind of groove. The second line is amazing," she says. She would first assemble the brass band at Marigny Studios, and then reconvene at The Ellis Marsalis Center to record the rest, utilizing the center's unique in-house system. Albero would record playing Mr. Marsalis' actual instrument, his piano. Both sessions would be conducted by engineer Armstrong, Albero's Seattle connection who is chief engineer at the center.

Albero decided to title the project, "A Nomad of Sound," an apt description of her musical character, of her life in music. A Life Soundtrack, her first album was a three-CD set with three titles subdividing her creative phases. The 2008 session with family in Spain was titled "Albero." Part two was a new Seattle spontaneously improvised session entitled "Agua," with the transformative third section ending the two-hour and twenty-minute epic dubbed, "Music is Love." The new album bearing the title A Nomad of Sound is, in essence, "A Life Soundtrack, Volume Four." Simply put, Albero sees her recorded works as a soundtrack to her life's journey in music.

To this date, Albero continues to push the project forward, having revealed only tiny parts of the recording during her effort to raise money to pay for her efforts, to this point personally financed. The pianist has a very sound following that tends to support her creative efforts. The exhausting process is familiar to the majority of recording artists in current times, with label support dwindling and artists being left to raise funds on their own via crowdfunding sites. While that process continues for Albero, we are left to wonder what the sum of the effort will sound like. It represents the Barcelona-born, world-traveling artist jumping in line to gather all she has experienced as a Catalan artist on a world quest to spread love through music. To visualize it as a second line, slowly winding towards a destination of discovery, from the beginnings of the sound of the Americas, to current times where it is preserved, cherished, and continues to evolve and spread its influence on an international scale. Like a nomad of sound, Albero energetically is a hunter and gatherer, only to be gathered in loving embrace by her continually growing legion of fans. Her four-month stay in New Orleans perhaps verified what she has always suspected, what all European musicians in search of American jazz know and continue to discover in new and unique ways.

"In Europe, we know that the music comes from Africa. The heartbeat is there. It started in America from scratch again, in a way. The rhythms are from Africa and Spain, but might be better preserved in Cuba and the Americas. It's here in New Orleans, where American music starts."

Comments