Samara Joy's Portrait
Samara Joy
"I think that there’s definitely an aspect of society, or maybe of this generation in particular, that craves nostalgia."
Words By Rebecca Lashmar | Illustration By Dane Thibeault
ISSUE 14 | THE BRONX | ELLINGTON
She rose to acclaim with her 2022 album Linger Awhile and quickly made a name for herself as a jazz icon of Gen Z at the age of 24; Samara Joy is undoubtedly the velvety voice of her generation. With a strong connection to the world of jazz both in a familial and historical sense, Joy bridges decades of the genre’s history in her vocalisations and social media savvy. Winning two GRAMMYs in 2023 for Best New Artist and Best Jazz Vocal Album, and a 2024 win for Best Jazz Performance, these are just a few of the ways that Joy’s love for her art have been returned in kind.
Portrait, Joy’s latest release, landed this fall as a headfirst plunge into the multifacetedness of Joy’s musicality and the authenticity of her relationship to her band. The album playfully pulls together unheralded jazz standards and original compositions to etch-a-sketch a granular portrait of Joy’s artistic vision, influences, and idols. Opening with “You Stepped Out Of A Dream”, originally from the 1941 musical Ziegfeld Girl, Joy’s vocals enter into kinetic conversation with her accompaniment. And while “A Fool In Love (Is Called A Clown)” rings with that evergreen quality of a jazz standard, it is in fact a new work composed by frequent Joy collaborator Donavan Austin.
In an industry that still systematically gatekeeps Black artists from the fruits of their talented labour, Joy continues to stand on business by making it her business to refine her vocal prowess and melodic storytelling. Portrait is yet another step in the direction of narrating her own story by curating a roster of collaborators and little-known jazz gems. She joined Cannopy, in between this latest release and her previous one, to talk about her studious approach to the genre, and circumventing those pesky gatekeepers.
JAZZ SAVANT
CAN | One of the things that so many people find impressive about you, in the background of the music that you make, is that you’re a bit of a savant of jazz history. Owing to the influence of your grandparents, your parents, and growing up in the Bronx, in many ways you were made by the music you make. You’ve said, “I’m still very much a student, even though I’ve graduated,”─what did you mean by that?
SJ ─ I meant that I’ve now entered into the real school of what it takes to be an artist, a singer and a performer. In school, you get the foundation of things that you need to know—rules, history, background—making sure that you’re prepared to go into the world of music. The classroom is a safe space, so when you get to the classroom of the stage, that’s when all of the truth starts to show and you really get to sharpen your craft. You’ve learned the language of the music, you’ve learned its history, but now it’s time to follow your own creative voice in the midst of all that.
CAN | As a Gen-Z artist singing “music of her parent’s childhoods”—which is incredibly sincere music that connects with other young listeners—why do you think this revival of that retro vocal jazz aesthetic is connecting with a younger generation?
SJ ─ I think that there’s definitely an aspect of society, or maybe of this generation in particular, that craves nostalgia. I hear the term “90s R&B” being thrown around constantly. It’s interesting because as connected as I feel to my generation, I’ve always felt like I liked different music. I didn’t really listen to much rap (I wasn’t allowed to), but I was “old school” because I liked classic love songs—whether they were from the ‘90s, the ‘70s, or the ‘60s—so I can’t deny that’s part of my musical identity.
When I was 10 years old I was singing along to breakup songs and songs that maybe I shouldn’t have been listening to. And although the songs I work with now may be older than those I was singing when I was 10, I think that the message remained. Whether it’s love, or love lost, or heartbreak, or infidelity and betrayal─all those feelings, they connect people no matter what era the song is from.
INNER HYPEMAN
CAN | In your acceptance speech at the GRAMMYs, you thanked some of the folks in the audience for being who they are because you were there because of who you are. One of the many takeaways from that is how easy it is for the industry to tell you who you are, especially in a music industry where Black singers have historically had their careers co-opted by gatekeepers. How challenging do you find it to be yourself in this context, and what is the motto of your inner voice whenever you doubt that commitment?
SJ ─ Sometimes I do find it challenging to stick to what I wanna do or what I’m aiming for, because I see an audience that’s a lot older than I am most times. They're focused on preservation and keeping things perfect and safe, so I definitely feel that pressure. Whenever I feel like I’m not totally exercising who I am on stage, I just go for something. I’m like, “You know what? I’m not gonna try to hide from any sort of mistakes on stage. You know what y’all, let’s play a different song. You don’t know it? Okay, let’s do it anyway. Let’s spruce it up. Let’s keep it alive.” Because when I think, “Okay, if I play this character, then people will love it and the show and me,” I’m like, no.
I wanna be able to make mistakes because that’s the only way that I can grow into who I will eventually become as an artist. I don’t want that to be stifled by an image that I feel like I have to preserve for people to feel comfortable just because that’s how they were introduced to me. I know that I’m gonna keep changing and growing as I listen to music, and I will grow as a musician as I practise and engage with musical knowledge.