Today at JazzWax, Meredith d'Ambrosio's "Another Time," her accidental second album in 1981 on which she sings and accompanies herself on piano. Absolutely precious... https://t.co/FEQhMgs8yG pic.twitter.com/WIFfG6KLbI— Marc Myers (@JazzWax) March 20, 2019
Saturday, March 23, 2019
Meredith d'Ambrosio
Saturday, June 4, 2016
Interview: Meredith d'Ambrosio
Reprinted from http://jazzwax.com
June 01, 2016
Yesterday I was listening to Meredith d'Ambrosio accompany herself on piano while singing Love Is a Simple Thing. The song appears on her sterling album Another Time(1981), which is one of my favorites. Meredith and I have emailed for years, since she loves JazzWax and I love her voice and piano. As I listened, I thought I'd give you a treat today by uniting all five parts of my 2009 interview in a single post. As you'll soon read, Meredith's biography is a harrowing story of an artist's struggles to endure tremendous emotional pain and suffering only to survive and thrive.
I hope you enjoy my complete five-part interview from 2009 with Meredith—a jazz composer, pianist, singer and painter...
JazzWax: Where did you grow up?
Meredith d’Ambrosio: I grew up in Boston. I have two
brothers and a sister. One brother and my sister are quite a bit younger than I am. My mother had them late in life. My mother was a pianist-singer whose voice was similar to Lee Wiley’s. She performed around Boston using the stage name Sherry Linden. Her real name was Sarah Kleiman. She was the last of the red-hot mamas, a performer who sang songs by the Gershwins, Rodgers and Hart, Kern, Berlin, Coward and others. She also performed risqué material.
JW: Sounds like she was quite a character.
Md’A: She was. Her romantic style of singing would often bring tears to people's eyes. As for my father, he had been a small-band radio singer. Later, using his own formulas, he created a refinishing and re-upholstery business. I remember my early childhood in the 1940s vividly. I was a terrible tomboy. Those are the years I remember most fondly.
Md’A: She was. Her romantic style of singing would often bring tears to people's eyes. As for my father, he had been a small-band radio singer. Later, using his own formulas, he created a refinishing and re-upholstery business. I remember my early childhood in the 1940s vividly. I was a terrible tomboy. Those are the years I remember most fondly.
JW: Why? Were your teenage years unhappy?
Md’A: Very messy. My mother and father didn’t get along, and neither gave me much encouragement. My father was a womanizer and it broke my mother’s heart. She resented him terribly for it. My father's issues probably stem from his rough start in life.
Md’A: Very messy. My mother and father didn’t get along, and neither gave me much encouragement. My father was a womanizer and it broke my mother’s heart. She resented him terribly for it. My father's issues probably stem from his rough start in life.
JW: What happened?
Md’A: He was born out of wedlock in Boston to a Russian mother and a merchant seaman from Florence, Italy. His
mother gave him up to the care of the state when he was five. After years bouncing around foster homes, orphanages and farms, he was sent at age 14 to live at the home of a family on Cape Cod. But just as the family was ready to adopt him, his mother surfaced and blocked the adoption. Up until then my father thought she was dead.
Md’A: He was born out of wedlock in Boston to a Russian mother and a merchant seaman from Florence, Italy. His
mother gave him up to the care of the state when he was five. After years bouncing around foster homes, orphanages and farms, he was sent at age 14 to live at the home of a family on Cape Cod. But just as the family was ready to adopt him, his mother surfaced and blocked the adoption. Up until then my father thought she was dead.
JW: Did his mother take him away?
Md’A: Yes. She took him to live with her in the Beacon Hill section of Boston, where it turned out she was the town madam who ran her business out of a four- story townhouse. Just before she took my father back to Boston, though, she married a man whose last name was d’Ambrosio.
Md’A: Yes. She took him to live with her in the Beacon Hill section of Boston, where it turned out she was the town madam who ran her business out of a four- story townhouse. Just before she took my father back to Boston, though, she married a man whose last name was d’Ambrosio.
JW: When did you know you could sing?
Md’A: When I was six years old, I was harmonizing along
with my mother’s large collection of swing records. I then studied classical piano and art from that point forward. My classical training lasted up to age 11. Then I went to Boston’s Schillinger House of Music [pictured], which later changed its name to the Berklee School and then moved its location to become the Berklee College of Music.
Md’A: When I was six years old, I was harmonizing along
with my mother’s large collection of swing records. I then studied classical piano and art from that point forward. My classical training lasted up to age 11. Then I went to Boston’s Schillinger House of Music [pictured], which later changed its name to the Berklee School and then moved its location to become the Berklee College of Music.
JW: Which singers moved you most as a kid?
Md’A: Dick Haymes [pictured] and Peggy Lee. My mother had a collection of 12-inch swing records that had to be played on a Victrola. I thought Haymes had the best phrasing of them all and the most romantic voice.
Md’A: Dick Haymes [pictured] and Peggy Lee. My mother had a collection of 12-inch swing records that had to be played on a Victrola. I thought Haymes had the best phrasing of them all and the most romantic voice.
JW: Did you have formal voice training?
Md’A: No, my father wouldn’t allow it. He was a bass baritone and had been classically trained at the New England Conservatory of Music. When he heard me singing and harmonizing along with my mother’s records at age 11, he decided voice training would be bad for me. He didn’t want my voice to be spoiled with formal instruction, though he had a hand in coaching me to understand how to breathe and shade.
Md’A: No, my father wouldn’t allow it. He was a bass baritone and had been classically trained at the New England Conservatory of Music. When he heard me singing and harmonizing along with my mother’s records at age 11, he decided voice training would be bad for me. He didn’t want my voice to be spoiled with formal instruction, though he had a hand in coaching me to understand how to breathe and shade.
JW: What did you sound like?
Md’D: I had a style back then, a voice that sounded like no one else. I was a mezzo-soprano then—the same range as my mother's. Much later I became a tenor, the same range as a cello or flugelhorn.
Md’D: I had a style back then, a voice that sounded like no one else. I was a mezzo-soprano then—the same range as my mother's. Much later I became a tenor, the same range as a cello or flugelhorn.
JW: Did painting and visual art play a more important role in your youth than singing and playing piano?
Md’A: Yes, and it still does. When I was 5 years old, in
kindergarten, I drew a picture of a face that was in perfect proportion. I immediately sensed I had an advanced talent. So my mother bought me an easel, and a year later I started taking formal art instruction. After school, I’d take piano and ballet lessons. And each Saturday I’d go for additional art lessons at the Rutledge School of Music and then Hebrew School. I had no time to play on the streets. It was a grueling schedule. [Pictured: Quarter to Three, 1986, watercolor, Meredith d'Ambrosio]
Md’A: Yes, and it still does. When I was 5 years old, in
kindergarten, I drew a picture of a face that was in perfect proportion. I immediately sensed I had an advanced talent. So my mother bought me an easel, and a year later I started taking formal art instruction. After school, I’d take piano and ballet lessons. And each Saturday I’d go for additional art lessons at the Rutledge School of Music and then Hebrew School. I had no time to play on the streets. It was a grueling schedule. [Pictured: Quarter to Three, 1986, watercolor, Meredith d'Ambrosio]
JW: Was your family well off?
Md’A: Actually no. When I was 13 years old, I got my social security card and had to go to work over the summer at a hearing-aid and transistor parts factory. The check was used to help my family make ends meet. By then my mother had two more children in addition to my brother Jerry, who was born three years after I was.
Md’A: Actually no. When I was 13 years old, I got my social security card and had to go to work over the summer at a hearing-aid and transistor parts factory. The check was used to help my family make ends meet. By then my mother had two more children in addition to my brother Jerry, who was born three years after I was.
JW: Why did your mother have two more children so many years later?
Md'A: She later confessed to me that she had had my brother Stanley and my sister Elaine later in her life to keep my father from straying. So I had to help take care of my new siblings, since my mother was in her forties and had had nervous breakdowns with both births. The newborns were exhausting and stressful for her.
Md'A: She later confessed to me that she had had my brother Stanley and my sister Elaine later in her life to keep my father from straying. So I had to help take care of my new siblings, since my mother was in her forties and had had nervous breakdowns with both births. The newborns were exhausting and stressful for her.
JW: You must have been gratified to get out of the house 
when it was time for college.
Md’A: It was liberating. When I was 17 years old, I won a scholarship to the Boston Museum School, which was at the time considered the second best fine arts college in the country after the Chicago Art Institute. By then, I was living a pretty bohemian life, which angered my mother to no end, since she was rather traditional. [Pictured: Debut of Spring, 1996, watercolor, by Meredith d'Ambrosio]
when it was time for college.Md’A: It was liberating. When I was 17 years old, I won a scholarship to the Boston Museum School, which was at the time considered the second best fine arts college in the country after the Chicago Art Institute. By then, I was living a pretty bohemian life, which angered my mother to no end, since she was rather traditional. [Pictured: Debut of Spring, 1996, watercolor, by Meredith d'Ambrosio]
JW: Just before college began in 1958, you and your mother fought regularly. What was her big issue with you?
Md'A: Several things. For one, I couldn’t hold a waitress job in Maine over the summer to pay for textbooks, and my mother was furious that I didn’t apply myself and take the job more seriously. Just before my studies began at the Boston Museum School, our disagreements grew so bad and so frequent that I moved out.
Md'A: Several things. For one, I couldn’t hold a waitress job in Maine over the summer to pay for textbooks, and my mother was furious that I didn’t apply myself and take the job more seriously. Just before my studies began at the Boston Museum School, our disagreements grew so bad and so frequent that I moved out.
JW: Did you enjoy the Boston Museum School?
Md’A: I loved it. But even before college started, my life was complicated, which certainly didn't help matters with my mother. When I was 17, I had the misfortune of 
falling deeply in love with a man who was a jazz pianist and three years older than me. He asked me to marry him, and we became engaged. But soon I learned from his closest friend that within a two-year period, he had been engaged to 22 other women. He disappeared soon after I found out. I think my parents chased him away once they learned about his past. It took me many years to get over the emotional devastation of being deceived by someone who I thought was my soulmate. I had even thought about suicide. By then I had moved back home. [Pictured: First Snow, oil on canvas, 2008, by Meredith d'Ambrosio]
read complete interview at: http://jazzwax.comfalling deeply in love with a man who was a jazz pianist and three years older than me. He asked me to marry him, and we became engaged. But soon I learned from his closest friend that within a two-year period, he had been engaged to 22 other women. He disappeared soon after I found out. I think my parents chased him away once they learned about his past. It took me many years to get over the emotional devastation of being deceived by someone who I thought was my soulmate. I had even thought about suicide. By then I had moved back home. [Pictured: First Snow, oil on canvas, 2008, by Meredith d'Ambrosio]
Used with permission by Marc Myers
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Meredith d'Ambrosio on Jackie Cain
Reprinted from http://jazzwax.com
When Jackie Cain died last week, I immediately thought of jazz singer-pianist Meredith d'Ambrosio [above]. Meredith also has an intimate, conversational vocal style and, like Jackie, has an ear for great little-known songs that match her personality perfectly. Meredith and I chat often, so I asked her for a few recollections on Jackie (and Roy). Here's what Meredith sent along...
"From the moment I heard Jackie and Roy's Euphoria on Symphony Sid's jazz show on Boston radio in the early 1950s, I was hooked. And amazed. I was 11 years old then and their voices melded together in a hip and elegant way. I was impressed by Roy's piano. If it weren't for Roy's chords and his smooth jazz voice merging with Jackie's, I think their famous sound might not have happened.
"[Pianist] Roger Kellaway and I listened to their recordings for hours in the late 1950s and loved them so much that we formed our own similar duo for a while. We tried to capture their empathy but chose different songs. Of course, no singing duos could ever come close to their sound. Roger had a Chet Baker quality to his voice, similar to Roy's, though the range of my voice wasn't an octave away from Roger's the way Jackie's was from Roy's. We learned a lot though. I was 17 and Roger was 18.
"If not for Jackie and Roy, Roger and I would never have experimented with this kind of singing. They taught us the possibilities. It was great fun. Jackie's voice was right on key. She had the voice of an angel. Her sound was perfect. What a wonderful voice. She was one of my most important teachers.
"Fred Bouchard, an excellent Boston jazz critic, introduced me to Jackie and Roy in 1974. We had lunch at the famous Jack & Marian's of Coolidge Corner, a New York-style deli in Brookline, Mass. What a thrill it was to finally meet those two. We became close friends. When I met [pianist and future husband] Eddie Higgins in 1987, I learned that he and Jackie and Roy were close friends when they were all in Chicago.
"Jackie was an excellent cook. When I visited her at her beautiful home in Montclair, N.J., she made me a delicious brunch. Food was very important to her and Roy. One day in the 1990s, after Eddie and I had married, they came to our home in Ft. Lauderdale, Fla., for lunch, Roy walked into the living room with sheet music in his hand. It was his music toStoppin' the Clock. He read my mind. I was preparing for my next album [Out of Nowhere] and had planned to record that song but wasn't sure of the chords. I was relieved to have the music!
"When Eddie and I played at Trumpets in New Jersey, Jackie and Roy came to see us. Roy took me aside after our first set. He suggested that when Eddie played his solo, I should refrain from moving around to avoid distracting the audience. I learned something that night that I've never forgotten. I was lucky to know such generous, sweet and wonderful friends. I miss them terribly." [Photo above of Eddie Higgins and Meredith d'Ambrosio, photographed by Ruth Williams]
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Meredith d'Ambrosio's albums at iTunes and Amazon. Here latest is By Myself (Sunnyside)here. You'll also find her paintings, which grace the covers of her albums, here.
JazzWax note: You can read my five-part interview with Meredith here (this is Part 1; for the additional parts, look above the red date at the top for the next link). [Photo above of Meredith d'Ambrosio and Eddie Higgins]
JazzWax clips: Here's Meredith singing Roy Kral's Stoppin' the Clock from her album Out of Nowhere (1998), with Lee Musiker (p), Jay Leonhart (b) and Terry Clarke ...
Here's Meredith playing and singing Johnny Mandel's The Shining Sea with Gene Bertoncini on guitar from Silent Passion (1996)...
Here's Meredith singing and playing Love Is a Simple Thingfrom Another Time (1981)...
Here's Meredith singing I Should Care from Shadowland(1992) with Blair Tindall (english hrn,oboe), Ron Kozak (b-cl,fl), Eddie Higgins (p), Johnny Frigo (vln), Erik Friedlander (cello), Jay Leonhart (b) and Ben Riley (d)...
And here's Meredith singing Giant Steps with Harold Danko (p) and Kevin Eubanks (g), from It's Your Dance (1985)...
Used with permission by Marc Myers
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Meredith D'Ambrosio....
Boston born Meredith d'Ambrosio, a renaissance woman of international critical acclaim, has successfully combined careers in the musical and visual arts. Her musical sojourn began in 1958 in Boston singing with small bands with Roger Kellaway on piano. Although she worked primarily as a jazz singer-pianist she is also known as a respected calligrapher, watercolorist, creator of eggshell mosaics, composer, lyricist, recording artist and teacher. She branched out into NYC in 1981, and since that time has been touring extensively throughout North America and Europe performing with such musicians as Harold Danko, Bob Dorough, Dave Frishberg, Fred Hersch, Eddie Higgins, Dick Hyman, Hank Jones, Lee Musiker, Mike Renzi, Richard Wyands, Milt Hinton, Major Holley, Jay Leonhart, Michael Moore, George Mraz, Rufus Reid, Leroy Vinnegar, Buddy DeFranco, Harry Allen, Lee Konitz, Ken Peplowski, Phil Woods, Jack Sheldon, Don Sickler, Al Grey, Johnny Frigo, Gene Bertoncini, Kevin Eubanks, Joe Ascione, Terry Clarke, Keith Copeland, Jake Hanna, Butch Miles and Ben Riley to name a few.
Meredith d'Ambrosio continues to delight those who have come to expect a high degree of proficiency in her artistic offerings and has shown herself to be, if not an iconoclast, one who is comfortable enough with her own sense of self to challenge the mainstream concept of popularity without sacrificing considerable talents and originality.
"To listen to d'Ambrosio is to abandon oneself to her charm. She leaves you spellbound with her impeccable diction, great sense of phrasing, intonation, and gentle swing, showing an unaffected simplicity and inner lyricism that expresses more than all the high-soaring excesses of scat singers." (Serge Baudot, Jazz Hot, France) "Her secret, one shared by very few singers, is her ability to deliver the meaning of a lyric in her understated and hip-as-can-be way." (George Fendel, Portland Jazzscene)
http://www.meredithdambrosio.com/
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