Episode #19 Ara Lee James Singer-Songwriter

Interviews

Feb 2

Welcome to Living A Vocal Life: A Podcast For Singers!

Welcome to the Living A Vocal Life Podcast, where I interview singers who have succeeded in creating a life in music. You’ll hear from vocalists of all genres, in different stages of their careers, including singers who’ve been on the Billboard charts and those who are teaching the next generation. What do they have in common? They're all performers with amazing stories to tell and experiences to share.

In our conversations, you’ll learn what inspired them to become a singer, the kinds of challenges they’ve encountered, and how they've overcome them. I'll also share what I've learned on my own journey as a singer and educator — practical tools and insights that will help you to live your best, most authentic vocal life.

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Singer-songwriter Ara Lee James in front of Puget Sound Vashon Island.

My guest in this episode is Ara Lee James. Ara has a voice that can sing anything and a way with words that is truly transcendent. Her voice is powerful — in its strength and its tenderness. And I’m not the only one who thinks so.

Music Presenter, Sue Svendsen, wrote, “Ara Lee is the best singer I’ve ever heard. Period. But what she does is more than that. To hear her live is gut-wrenching, heart-soaring - it’s a spiritual awakening.”

Gary Grainger, an award-winning Independent Blues Broadcaster from the UK, says, “No matter what tribe of the world you align yourself with, Ara Lee’s music will speak to you at a primeval level, awakening emotions and spirits from your past, from our past.”

And Arnold Schwarzenegger said, “I’ve never heard anyone sing like that in my life.”

But it’s not just Ara’s voice that’s incredible. Her story is too. It starts in New York, where she was born, moves to Appalachia, where she cut her teeth singing harmony out of a church songbook, and then back to NYC. It was there, just as she was starting to find herself as a young woman, that she lost her voice and her way — for thirteen whole years.

Ten years ago, Ara walked into my vocal studio, student information sheet in hand. Part of her story was on that sheet — but until this interview, I only knew the barest outline of what she was working through.

Her story is about a voice lost and found — the rebirth of a singer’s soul that, along with her voice, will take your breath away.

I highly recommend putting some headphones on for this episode. You won’t want to miss a word or a sound.

“It’s an extraordinary thing to make peace with your voice. And part of that is making peace with shame, making peace with wherever you happen to be in life, with whatever “success” or failure you’ve had.”

— Ara Lee James

Links:

You can find Ara Lee James on Facebook, Instagram, or on her website.

The songs from today’s episode are called BORN, and AHO from the album BORN. The single NASTY WOMAN. And OPEN SONG Part 2, PAPER WALLS, and DEEP BLUE from the Stand & Sway album DEEP BLUE (used with permission.)

To listen or download, click on the album titles.

Theme music for the Podcast was composed by John Smith. He helps me edit all the podcast episodes too. (Thanks honey!)

Valerie: You've decided to make singing your vocation. Now what? You may be struggling to balance your life and a career in music. Are you curious about how other singers make it or how they've dealt with success and failure? Do you wonder what their biggest challenges have been? Or how about what they've learned on their journey and what's important to them today?
Hi, I'm Valerie Day, a singer, educator, and creative explorer. You might know me from my work with the Grammy-nominated band, Nu Shooz. Welcome to Living A Vocal Life where I interview singers who have succeeded in creating a life in music. You'll hear from vocalists of all genres, in different stages of their careers, including singers who've been on the Billboard charts and those who are teaching the next generation. What do they have in common? They're all performers with amazing stories to tell and experiences to share.
In our conversations, you'll learn what inspired them to become a singer, the kinds of challenges they've encountered, and how they've overcome them. I'll also share what I've learned on my own journey as a singer and educator, practical tools and insights that will help you to live your best, most authentic vocal life. Hello, and welcome to Living A Vocal Life. Thanks so much for listening.
Before I introduce my guest. I'd like to invite you to sign up for my newsletter. Vocal Notes will land in your inbox just once or twice a month. In it you'll find practical tips and inspiration for singers and a link to the latest podcast interview so you'll never miss an episode.
Subscribers also receive special discounts when they purchase my courses for singers. You can find the link to my website in the show notes, or just head to valeriedaysings.com. I look forward to connecting with you.
My guest this episode is Ara Lee James. Ara has a voice that can sing anything and a way with words that is truly transcendent. Her voice is powerful in its strength and its tenderness. And I'm not the only one who thinks so.
Music presenters, Sue Svendsen wrote, Ara Lee is the best singer I've ever heard, period. But what she does is more than that. To hear her live is gut-wrenching, heart soaring, it's a spiritual awakening.
Gary Granger, an award-winning independent blues broadcaster from the UK, says, No matter what tribe of the world you align yourself with, Ara Lee's music will speak to you at a primeval level, awakening, emotions, and spirits from your past, from our past.
And Arnold Schwartzenegger said, I've never heard anyone sing like that in my life.
But it's not just Ara's voice that's incredible. Her story is too. It starts in New York where she was born, moves to Appalachia where she cut her teeth singing harmony out of a church songbook, and then back to New York City.
It was there, just as she was starting to find herself as a young woman, that she lost her voice and her way - for 13 whole years.
10 years ago, Ara walked into my vocal studio, student information sheet in hand. Part of her story was on that sheet. But until this interview, I only knew the barest outline of what she was working through.
Her story is about a voice - lost and found. The rebirth of a singer's soul, that along with the sound of her incredible voice, will take your breath away.
I highly recommend putting some headphones on for this episode. You won't want to miss a word or a sound.

Hi, Ara. Thank you so much for being on the podcast today.
Ara: Hi, Valerie. It is so wonderful to talk to you and to hear your voice through these little headphones from Vashon.
Valerie: Is it a beautiful day up there? It's a totally gorgeous day here.
Ara: It is so beautiful today. And yesterday was one of the biggest storms we've had. I thought my house was going to lift off the ground, like the wizard of Oz. Um, it was all the power went out. And it was just branches everywhere, trees down. The entire part... this whole part of the Island that the power was out. Jamie, my girlfriend who lives three blocks away, was like actually afraid for her life. And then this morning I woke up, raise the curtains and the sun is shining and it's beautiful and blue and...
Valerie: And the birds are chirping and it's like, it never happened except for, you know, there's all this debris everywhere. It was the same here. It was crazy. And so much rain. I thought the house was going to lift up and just, you know, we were going to be on little rafts going down the road. It was kind of an exercise in faith, falling asleep and believing, you know, that the house is going to be standing in the morning.
Ara: Totally. And right before this house I'm living in now, I used to live in a tiny little, 500 square foot cabin on the sound, up on a hill that just was a massive cliff slide down to the water. And when storms like this would happen. It would be harrowing. I'd be there with the girls and they'd be like, it's okay, mom. And I'm like, yeah, it's okay. We're not going to fall down the hill. I'm like, right. We're not going to fall down the hill.
It never fell down the hill and I'm grateful to be in a house on the ground right now. But yeah, waking up this morning to the sun felt like. Honestly, just sort of a microcosm of these days. One day, it's like the worst thing you've ever seen, the worst storm ever. And then the next day, utter beauty, everywhere you look, you know, majesty. And then three hours later, the worst thing that's ever happened.
It seems like these days, the horror and the beauty are just exponentially increasing at the same time.
Valerie: Yeah, I agree. Totally.
Ara: So I'm grateful. Grateful for the sun right now.
Valerie: Yeah, me too. Well, speaking of hills, we're gonna shift over to the smoky mountains of Appalachia. Sweetwater Tennessee that's where you were born.
Growing Up In Tenessee
Ara: Yeah, and actually I was raised there. I was born in upstate New York. Believe it or not. Um, and then moved to Tennessee when I was four. So my youngest memories are from there. And then I was. Well, I lived there for them, my formative years in Appalachia. Yeah.
Valerie: So that was where some of your first memories came from.
Ara: Yeah, it's funny, even as you say that I'm closing my eyes to try to get back there. Um, yeah, I grew up in Sweetwater, Tennessee, and it was a very small town in Appalachia.
I say Appalachia still, and I'm sure as I tell this story, my Southern accent will come out. I have to really listen for it. Um, but I grew up in what I was called the deep South, the Hills of Tennessee are a very specific culture. And the family that I grew up in, uh, my aunt and uncle lived across the pasture.
My grandparents lived up on the hill. We lived at the bottom of the hill and, um, it was a cattle farm and the nearest town was about 15 minutes away. And there was just a very different way of life.
Valerie: Well, it's so interesting. That scene that you just painted for us is so rural. And yet your parents met singing opera in college.
They were both singers. They met singing opera in college. And yet here you were in Sweetwater, Tennessee with your grandpa playing the banjo and guitar. And you know, this, this whole different, I mean, those two things just don't seem to go together.
Ara: Well, yeah, that's, that's a great question. And you have certainly done your homework, Valerie.
I forget how much of this, you know, for me personally and how much I've shared, but yeah, that's all true. And at the heart of that was my parents met and, uh, we're both raised in a faith, a religion that was, um, specific and went very far back on both of our families. So it was a generational sort of church that both of our families belong to. They met in a college that was a Christian college, um, of that particular denomination.
After we were born, my parents moved to Rochester. They were singing. Uh, they met singing, you know, they sing opera in college and then they moved to New York. My dad was a doctor, um, and we were for all intents and purposes, gonna stay there.
When I was four, my dad came out and he came to the realization that he was gay at that time. And with the background that he had in the, in Christianity. And this was something that was extremely, um, um, I can't overstate how hard it was for my dad at that time.
Valerie: Oh my gosh. What year was that?
Ara: 1980, 80, 81.
Valerie: Yeah.
Ara: So probably in, you know, in the seventies and again, you know, he was raised in a church where being gay was akin to sort of the deepest level of sin and the fiery flames of hell like this, you know, this was something that he had always been taught in a way that he had grown up and he, in a lot of ways, married my mom to try to quote, fix it and have kids and check off all the boxes.
So when he came out and realized that, you know, he was gay, had in fact, always been gay and found his way to who he was and began the process of really being fully himself. My mom at the time had never really even heard of this. This was new for her. She tells me now things I never knew. That she, you know, she bought a book on what is gay.
And this was, you know, this was just outside of her, her knowledge, her awareness. And at the time when dad came out, she took us to Tennessee. She wanted us to be as far away from his, uh, quote sin that we could be. She tried to protect us from what she saw as a horrible influence in our life. And he was for all intents and purposes, really cut out of our life.
As a kid, what happened there is when we moved to the South, we moved into this farm with my mother's family who were deeply religious. And I began my education in fundamentalist Christianity, really. And, um, spent the school year in Tennessee, going to church three times a week. That is absolutely where my musical education began with singing.
I went to the church where I grew up. Instruments weren't allowed. They were not allowed. They were considered sinful. So only the voice was allowed, um, in this particular denomination. Which looking back from a purely musical standpoint, everything I learned about harmony and music came through my ears and through my voice.
And I understood things inherently because of the way we sang together in that shape-note singing. In the South. Right. Which I guess apparently has had some revival. I can't even believe it. I heard people, I was walking down Portland the other day and I heard someone singing this song that I sang as a kid, like this group of people singing.
And when I say the other day, I mean, years ago, but that's how time feels right now. But I heard this group singing, and I was like, what is happening? I'm hearing this four-part harmony. And it was this like, you know, hipster-revival of shape, note singing, which just blows my mind. But this was where I learned music and yeah.
So I spent my school year there, but then my sister and I would go to New York City where my dad lived with his partner and we spent the city in New York, um, having a totally different education. And my dad had a house on Fire Island, and we went to opening night at The Met, and we went to Broadway shows, and we met people that I could not possibly put in the context of what I was learning in the South.
And that was sort of the education that I had. Uh, the very, what's the big word I'm looking for? Valerie. I told you dichotomous. Dichotomous. A dichotomous upbringing.
Valerie: Those two realities are so different. Did that feel kind of schizophrenic to you? Or were you just a kid and that was just kinda like, okay. That's dad and this is mom. And you know, where did you feel like you fit in all of these places?
Ara: Yeah, that's a great question. I think. For me. And this is, these are things that I have to look at a lot as an adult now through the lens of having learned and sort of the eternal process of healing from the things that we go through in life.
But I learned a lot about shame and about how the lens that we view the world really affects our view of ourselves and how incorrect those lenses can be. As a kid, I wasn't really allowed to be close to my dad because of how my family viewed him. There were people in my family who wouldn't say his name.
Valerie: Wow.
Ara: Um, they wouldn't, they were like, we don't speak his name. And being gay was the worst thing that one could be in this particular faith. Um, You know, and we can certainly get to this later in the interview, but I am 43. I am now out as a gay woman and my journey in understanding my own sexuality through that lens that I was taught at the time, which was that being gay was not an option for me as a kid is something that I've also had to come to in my own time in life.
So. Yeah. Uh, just a really interesting education in two different, um, ways of moving through the world. And even looking back now, when I talk about sort of the deep South and people who said these really extremely judgmental things, I also know that for the people who believe those things, and I did too, when I was younger, these things that I believed, came from a sincere place, right? Came from a place of that's as much as they knew. That was where their knowledge went. And I think it's just an interesting time to see how the world is awakening from these stories that keep people really trapped in shame and trapped in, uh, ideology that's very black and white when gray is just so beautiful.
Valerie: I love how you said that. Gray is actually so beautiful because that means that there's a lot more variety, that you don't have to fit into a box.
Ara: Right.
Valerie: The world isn't black and white. There are so many different shades of color, you know.
Ara: Right, right. Yeah. Gosh, I loved how you said color too. Because you know, black and white is safe. Right? Right and wrong is comfortable. It feeds our ego. It feeds our need to be above someone. You know, it stamps something. And we crave that, I think as human beings. And what is so much more beautiful than black and white is color. I shouldn't say more beautiful, but certainly more interesting. And, and that, that just the myriad shades of gray in between those two extremes is, is such a beautiful thing to explore.
And also really brave for people who leave a life where they once thought in terms of black and white and move beyond that into something that feels really frightening and free.
Valerie: In this really very fundamentalist Christian environment where instruments weren't even allowed in church, you learned how to play the violin anyway, how did that come about? How did you navigate that?
Ara: Right. Well, that's to the credit of my mom, who, even though she lived in this environment, my mom, you know, at one time married my dad, and they did have a lot in common. The fact that dad wasn't straight really was the kicker there, but they loved each other and did for their whole lives.
And my mom had a great, deep appreciation for art and music and always did — still does. And she enrolled me in Suzuki violin lessons when I was four or five. I think it was a way of bringing music in. We weren't allowed to bring instruments into church. For us, that was the distinction. Instruments weren't allowed in worship. Um, they were allowed on your own time outside with whatever you wanted to do, but when it came to any sort of worship, it could only be the voice.
So instruments were allowed, like my grease on my grandpa, he played the banjo, he played, you know, guitar. We would sit on the porch and play music and I played Suzuki violin, but outside. And what was, you know, a secular capacity. And that was, that was okay. Huh.
Valerie: And then you grew up listening to Dolly Parton and even I read that you even had season tickets to Dollywood. I mean,
Ara: Oh gosh. Yeah. Oh yeah. I mean, in Tennessee Dollywood... well, at least where I lived, Dollywood was the thing to do.
And I still have a massive love and deep respect for Dolly Parton as a human and one of the greatest songwriters of our time.
Valerie: Oh yeah. She's an amazing songwriter. And what a life she's led. Yeah. What a life she's led.
So how did you get from Appalachia to New York City again? When did that happen and what made you decide to move there?
New York City
Ara: Yeah. So, um, I moved to Manhattan when I was 17. I graduated high school year early. And at that point, I couldn't wait to get out of the South. I had obviously been visiting New York, visiting my dad in the summer, and I was ready to explore, you know, move beyond my world.
And so I moved in with my dad, and his partner, Jeff, who they were together for almost 35 years before he was married to him. So he wasn't his husband at the time, but his life love, Jeff. Moved in with them in New York and began my education in all that I learned in my time in Manhattan.
Valerie: So what was life like for you during that time? I mean, I know I read, you went to Hunter College. What were you thinking you would be doing with your life after you moved to New York?
Ara: So what happened when I moved to New York, I met and auditioned for some really influential people. Um, I got a solo singing with the New York Gay Men's Chorus and sang at Carnegie Hall when I was 17. I, you know, there were some really cool things that happened.
And then a few months after I was there and was excited to sort of begin this life as a vocalist, I met some people who invited me to a spiritual group, spiritual discussion. And at that time I was already feeling guilty for not going to church because of how I'd been raised. And what ended up happening is these people became my friends really quickly. I was young, I was 17. I was newly in New York and it seemed pretty harmless at first.
Over time, this group sort of became my world and I'd say within six months I had lost much of my identity. Um, even what I was sort of carving out for myself in New York and they had filled it in. What happened in that group. And it's interesting even telling you this, my hands are shaking as I'm talking because it's such a hard thing to talk about.
And for years I didn't talk about it because I felt so much shame. And even now talking about it so much shame comes up for me. But in a sense, what this group was, under the guise of spirituality, was they were a cult. And they also taught the very things that I had been taught as a child. So for me, the dogma, they were pretty much just a very quote, committed version of what I had always been taught.
So it was a continuation of what I learned from the time I was four. For me, it felt like recommitting to the thing I felt like I should do. Right.
Valerie: So many ties with your family. I mean, that just must've felt like home in a way.
Ara: Absolutely. And what happened for me was that group became my life. I cut off my family. I cut off communication with my father, even my mother, the rest of my Southern family. They deemed not committed enough as Christians. So they were cut out of my life. And for 13 years I was in that organization. I went to seminary. I became an ordained minister. I converted people and studied the Bible with people.
I spoke all over the world. I spoke at Madison Square Garden in front of 15,000 women. I believed these things to be true. Again, I had always been taught them and here I was young and arrogant. And boy, when you're 20. You know, I dare you to tell somebody that they're wrong.
So for me at the time I genuinely believed it. I studied the Bible with people to help them to help them. I quote, converted homosexuals. I was just writing about this the other day. And was trained how to do that. And I wasn't allowed to go to college or sing. I had an arranged marriage to a man that I had never kissed until we said I do when I was 25. And did that to submit to the authority of the group that I was in.
I wasn't allowed to speak or preach. If men were in the room, there was a group where women were meant to be silent and submissive. Again, the same way I was raised as a kid. I remember the feeling of, I would be leading and praying, leading a group. And then if a young man, even a kid, like a 10-year-old boy walked in the room, I had to stop talking. Wow. Because in that particular version of faith, men have authority.
And it wasn't until after I got married and the arranged marriage that I had agreed to, he began to become abusive. And during that time, is the time that I began to wake up. And within a few years, it became very clear to me that I was in a cult. That I had to get out. That my entire idea of faith was really messed up. I didn't know what was true, but I knew that wasn't true.
And I knew that if I left my husband and my job that had been my job at that point, my resume would have had cult leader on it. Right. That I would be leaving everything. I had no college education. And I made the decision to leave. And I remember the day that I left, I left my house without shoes. I was afraid that my husband would be violent. And I got on a bus and went to New York City.
My arranged-marriage husband was quite wealthy. And I knew leaving him would be a really huge deal. So. When I left, I moved to New York. I moved into a place that had been a women's shelter on the Lower Eastside. I remember that place. There were bars on the windows and a shared bathroom down the hall. And I moved into that room and that is a place where I began to awaken. I began to think. I began to read books that were not approved by the cult or by a Christian approved literature. Poetry As A Lifeline
It's the first time I ever read poetry. It's the first time I ever read anything that changed my idea of what was right and wrong. What I had been taught since I was four. And that was when I applied to go back to Hunter College and got in. And within a year, things had become so violent with my ex that I knew I had to leave New York and I did.
But that room where I lived was the beginning of an awakening for me and Valerie, you and I talk a lot about poetry. And when I say poetry saved my life, I cannot overstate that.
For me, I remember there was a coffee house on the Lower Eastside, where there was a give-a-book take-a-book kind of thing. And there was a book - a poetry compilation, and I took it back to my tiny little room that a twin bed wouldn't even fit sideways in. And I opened up the book and I'm emotional just talking about it. And the poem that I opened to was The Journey by Mary Oliver. I'd never heard of Mary Oliver. I'd never read anything like this before. And I felt like she understood exactly where I was. And through this book, this compilation, I was introduced to Rumi, to Rilke, to Mary Oliver, to just so many poets - David White and Maya Angelou and people...
Valerie: You're naming all... you’re naming all my favorites. And it must've felt like such a lifeline.
Ara: It was a lifeline. And I was like, Oh, Raina Maria Rilke, you're my friend now. And you know, Mary Oliver, I feel like she's a friend. William Stafford is a friend. Like these are people who were ropes to me and they unwound, they unbraided my mind out of a world of black and white into a world of there is no answer, but the one you find yourself.
And that was the beginning of me getting back to a place where I could even hear what I thought, what I, what I thought, what I believe, what mattered to me, and what didn't. I remember going into a Target and looking at a rack of clothes and thinking, I don't know if I like blue or red, and almost having a nervous breakdown because I couldn't even choose do I like blue or red?
Because up to that point everything that I had done had been for the greater good like it had nothing to do with my choice. Wow. And so even knowing like, what color do I like? And what books do I want to read? And what music do I like? These were things that I was discovering. And at that time, when I was beginning to read my way out of my faith, I was 30 years old.
Valerie: Makes me want to cry for you because you have so much soul in your music. You have such a big voice, not just the way it sounds, but in the soul that you breathe into it. And to have sublimated that voice for so long, and then to be able to slowly, but surely, learn to listen to it again at 30 years old, that's an incredible journey.
Ara: And Valerie, I met you... I was going to say I met you four years after that.
Valerie: I'm thinking about the timeline here and how, how soon it was.
So, okay. You're in this little apartment, you're reading all this poetry. You're starting to be able to listen to your own voice again, and your own thoughts and whether you like red or blue, or, you know, who are you?
How do you get from that little room to Portland?
Denver
Ara: So I was living in New York. Things got really tough. I knew I had to leave. My sister lived in Denver. She had a basement. She said, Carla, which is my legal name, come to Denver, live in my basement, take a breath. You've been through a lot, just come here.
And at that time, some people who, by the way, after I left this organization, I spent years in New York, helping people leave. There were people who tried to commit suicide, families that had been ex-communicated that when people went back to their families their families wanted nothing to do with them. I mean it's...to have been in an extreme fundamentalist group and then leave you end up sort of having a double bind because you have to face the people you've been judging and, and harming for so many years. And it's a great chasm of reconciliation that has to happen. So I helped a lot of people leave and devoted a lot of time to that at the time. And I worked with a therapist who specialized in spiritual recovery for this very thing.
So by the time my sister asked me to go to Denver, I knew I had enough wherewithal to know, I need to go. I need to make a fresh start. You know, I'm feeling the need to leave New York.
So moved to Denver. What I was going to say about all that, the reason I was telling that story is that some of the people who left helped people find work, because most of us who left had absolutely no credentials. Most people were not allowed to go to college.
So I got a job bartending. And I was trained by this guy on Park Avenue. He taught me how to bartend at a corporate bar. And I bartended my way out of, you know, I got back on my feet.
So I got a job offer in Denver, bartending there, and so moved to Denver and lived with my sister for a while. And that was a wild time.
I can only tell you that coming out of something where you're not allowed to be yourself… when you're finally free, I sort of felt like spaghetti on the wall. You know, I spent two years absolutely doing all the things I had never been allowed to do.
Valerie: Of course!
Ara: Right. How can I... how can I, how can I say that in a way?
Valerie: Well, you had a lot of catching up to do!
Ara: I slept with a lot of people, Valerie. I slept with a lot of people. Yeah.
Valerie: And you didn't get to, you didn't get to go through your wilding years. You had a lot of... my God.
Ara: It was like being 18, but I was 30, you know. So I had, I had that time where, you know, I, I drank a ton, and slept with a lot of people, and listened to music I had never listened to. I mean, I had never listened to anything other than really Christian music until then. I didn't know. I couldn't have even told you two Beatles songs when I was 30.
So for me, like, you know, I went to a festival, a music festival! For the first time! The very first music festival I went to was String Summit in Oregon. And I was like, these people are all playing music! Everybody's here listening. I couldn't believe it because I had never seen anything like this.
And I know, so, you know, this was just all part of the gradual unfolding. I lived in a bus. I moved in with a friend. We, I sold everything. I lived in a best. We converted it to run on vegetable oil and we bartered our way across the country. I totally had this just live with curiosity and explore. And forgive me, but just a fuck it, you know, it was a fuck it time. Yeah.
Valerie: And still, probably so many feelings going on underneath the surface. Right. Because only so many. I mean, after those years, I'm sure not all of them can bubble up to the surface at once. To unwind all of that, you can't open up the hood and just keep looking, you know? Look at all of it. You know.
Ara: Gosh, no, I don't think I opened up the hood at all. I think I just tasted freedom. I just drank freedom, you know, like water. I drank poetry. I drank music. I drank people with different points of view. I drank, you know, I just drank it all. And that was the beginning of me believing and thinking maybe I could sing.
Maybe I Can Sing
So one of the things that happened during that time was my first love after all of it, his name was Daren Hahn and he happened to be on Annie De Franco's drummer for a long time. And I met him and he was drumming a lot around Denver and... and I told him that I had always really wanted to be a singer, that I had always had a voice when he knew my history and my past.
And he encouraged me to start singing. And that was the beginning of me even just exploring what it was to sing. Um, I bartended at this bar and I would hop up on stage and sing a song. And then hop back behind the bar and keep bartending. And that was my grand beginnings of singing.
And it was just amazing to sing with a microphone. Like this is new. To feel what it's like to sing with someone playing an instrument behind me, because again, like this had never been allowed, so that was all just so exciting.
And then I ended up moving to Seattle because I got a job offer in Seattle, managing a bar on Ballard Ave, and thought I'd try it. And wanted to explore the Northwest. And then when I was down at String Summit, speaking of my first big festival, I went to Spring Summit, met some people that were camping near me. We went to the Kennedy School soaking pool, like three days after the festival. And there I met a man named Brian Lee. We started dating and within six months I found out I was pregnant.
And that was also new. I was on birth control. It was an absolute surprise.
Valerie: Oh my goodness.
Ara: So at this time now I was at a place where I felt like, Oh, I'm getting up on my feet. I'm supporting myself. Life is beautiful and now I'm going to have a baby. And at that time I was 33. I think when I found out I was pregnant with Willa. And what happened for me then was this realization that, okay, you know, I've had my time and I need to figure out what's next for myself and for this child. I had no idea if Brian was going to stay in the picture.
I knew when I found out that I was pregnant, that I would have the baby. I never knew you know, how I would feel up in that moment, at least over the past few years. And decided, you know, I was gonna have this baby and see what happened. I was not even really living in Portland and this was all, you know, I was just sort of living on the road at that time, living in a bus and having my hippie time. And decided to have Willa and to settle down in Portland. Got a job. Jimmy Mak's
Not long after Willa was born, I went to Jimmy Mak's. Now tell me that's the right name.
Valerie: Yeah. The jazz club in downtown Portland. Yeah.
Ara: Downtown Portland. And you know, you have those moments in life where you're like, this moment changed my life and, and this will bring us back into perhaps, what this podcast is meant to be, which is about voice.
But, um, I went to Jimmy Mak's and, um, Darrell Grant was playing there. And I will never forget that because he was transcendent. And he spoke to the crowd with such grace. And there was a beauty about that man that changed me. I don't know how else to say it. And I knew that I had to study music. And he mentioned from stage that he was the director of the jazz program at Portland State University.
And it was like a shockwave went through my body and I thought, that's what I'm going to do. I have to do this. And I want to learn from that man.
And so I looked at PSU. At this point, Willa was nine months old. I was still nursing. I mean, I was, you know, all the things. And I asked if there was any chance that I could audition for the jazz program. They said, well, we're sorry, there's no vocal component to the jazz program at PSU. And I said, can I please audition? Can I just please audition? Can I please sing for Darrell Grant? And just, you know, see. And they said, well, you know, we're thinking about maybe starting a program.
So I got an audition with Darrell and for me, Valerie, let me tell you. This was the most frightening thing I can possibly... to tell you how scary this felt for me. I had never really sung for another person. And then they told me, okay, just bring a lead sheet and a song. And then Darrell will play with you. I didn't know what a lead sheet was. My musical knowledge was middle C on a piano and Suzuki violin, which is ear training. I had absolutely no idea.
So I randomly found a pianist and hired him to teach me what, like I spent an hour with him and said, can you please show me what a lead sheet is?
Valerie: And then you went and auditioned for Darrell. So what was that like?
Ara: Yeah. Okay. So then I'm there. And I had this lead sheet in my hand that I barely knew how to use and I put it down in front of Darrell. And I was so scared.
And I sang Summertime. And then, you know, again, this is the first time I had sung with someone in, you know, forever with someone playing an instrument and I was terrified. And when I finished, he said, okay, let's trade fours.
Valerie: What?
Ara: Right? So apparently Darrell thought that that's something that I might know how to do. And I was so embarrassed. And I said, Darrell, I don't know what that means.
And this is the thing I want to say about Darrell. And this is at the heart of why I love teaching now and what I love about people who are truly humble, authentic souls in this world committed to music and not their ego - of which Darrell is one.
And he was so kind, and he said, Oh, no problem. Well, this is what that means. And he explained to me what it meant. And he talked me through it and we played around and I tried it and he was like, no, no, no, go back and try this. And there was not an ounce of him that shamed me or made me feel like, You're auditioning, you don't even know what trade fours means? Like his attitude and his spirit was so open, and so generous, and so kind. And I don't know that Darrell will ever understand how important it was for me. I know I'm crying in that moment. I don't know that Darrell knows that that was the first moment I had sung in front of another person.
Valerie: I doubt he did.
Ara: I doubt he does. And that he, in that moment had this chance. And he could have been even just a tiny bit condescending and, you know, understandably so. And he was so kind, and that... him just being who he was, gave me permission to sing out, to try to play, to free my voice. And we played around and he played and I sang, and then he played, I sang, I've never done anything like that before with a person.
And when we walked out of the room, he said, well, you know, he said some nice things. And I think he said something like, Well, you've got quite a voice on you. Well, great. All right. Welcome to the program. You're the first vocalist we'll admit to the program. Walk this way with me. And he walked me down to the office and he helped me sign up, you know, and get my paperwork in order.
And... and I was like, great, thank you so much! And I walked out of the school and into the parking garage, and I sat in the car, and I put my head down on the steering wheel, and I wept. And I cried and cried and cried because I had not used my voice ever, like that.
And then, then he said, well, you know, you need to have a teacher. And of course, Valerie, that was you.
And over the next three years, I began to learn how to sing through the language of music theory. I was nursing my way, you know, milk stains on my shirts, exhausted in class with these 18-year-olds trying to like transcribe figured bass. I mean, I had absolutely no preparation for this. And I loved it, and it was so hard and so wonderful.
And during that time was when I began to find my voice. And a really big part of that as you know, Valerie, was not just that I learned how to read a lead sheet, finally. Or understood what a chart was. It was that when I had lessons with you, anything you didn't know, you would say, Oh, I don't know! Let's see. I have no idea. That's a great question. Let's look it up together. Or, Oh gosh, I've never thought I thought that before let's try this.
And the grace and the um, presence and the gift that you gave to me in sitting with me with an open heart, with no hint of judgment or condescension, I felt that from everyone in my experience at PSU, except for the 18-year-old music students who can, you know, God help them, you know, they're trying to... trying to prove themselves and, you know, doing, doing their thing.
But, but I was, you know, certainly felt like, I mean, I was 34, 35 at this time. And ended up graduating and beginning my career in music when I was well into my thirties.
Choir: Part Of A Hundred Voices
Valerie: And the other place that I know your voice really was able to shine was in the choir. Which must have been kind of an incredible thing to go from your particular experience with shape singing and singing in your past to this, this university choir where all kinds of music was sung.
And I don't know, how did that feel to you? What was that like?
Ara: That was, I mean, I don't use this word lightly, but that was transcendent. There were moments... and this is just to talk... to talk about Dr. Ethan Sperry for a minute, but what he created with that group was...
Valerie: Extraordinary.
Ara: Absolutely extraordinary. And if you've never heard a choir, and if you're not into choir singing, I dare you to go hear the Portland State Chamber Choir and be lifted off your seat and experience something that is just nothing short of ethereal.
We competed in a competition in Italy. We got to go to Italy and compete in a competition that no American choir had been invited to compete in, like, ever. And we were competing against, you know, professional choirs from all over the world and we ended up winning that competition.
But being a part of that choir, there were moments when I felt like my single voice was made up of a hundred voices. And when the magic that happens when all of those voices are locked in and listening and being in conversation with each other in the context of a song is really... it's magic.
Valerie: There's nothing like it.
Ara: And it's not a group of people when you're singing together. It has nothing to do with your ego and your, your work is to disappear. Your work is to listen. Your work is to blend. Your work is not to try to be in the front. In fact, if your voice comes to the front, then you've done the song, a disservice.
And I think that training in just utter musicality and the loss of ego in service of a song is also really fundamental to how I approach music. Forever, hopefully, because I think that is the point of music is that it's actually not about you at all. It's being in service of the song, being in service of your voice, being in service of music.
And that's just so much bigger than you, you know.
Born
Valerie: And yet you found your voice. And were featured in that choir too, you know. And then went on to shortly after, record your first ever EP. And that was an EP called, Born, whose songs were inspired both by the death of a good friend of yours and the birth of your daughter.
Tell me a little bit about that EP experience and why it was important for you to birth the songs that were on it and get them out into the world.
Ara: Well, it felt important because I found out I was pregnant with my second daughter also on birth control as a side note. Um..
Valerie: My goodness, what the? Yikes!
Ara: I think, I think what we have to say there, is these daughters... these children were meant to be.
Valerie: No kidding.
Ara: And so on we go. But being a parent wasn't exactly in my plan. And, and so when Juniper made her appearance in my womb, um, I had been writing songs, trying songwriting for the first time in my life. And I had a very dear friend named Catherine Claire, who I had toured with, um, singing backup with her. And she's a wonderful songwriter and violinist. And I'd been writing these songs and she was like, Ara, it's time. Why don't you just book some studio time and record what you have written? Don't worry about it. Just show up, you know, see if you can do it. And it was something I had never done. And I thought it would be wonderful to hear some songs that I recorded on an actual professional recording, you know?
And so she booked studio time for me. And I always say she was sort of like the midwife of that, that little EP. And I remember, uh, right before I had my last studio day and, um, I hadn't written all the songs or the ones I thought I was going to do, they sort of got booted. I'm sure you've had this experience, Valerie. You write songs and you think that's what it's going to be.
And then you show up and you're like, Whoa, those songs are not actually, what are going to be on there. This new song is forming and that's the one that wants to show up. And I had that same experience with this record. And one of the songs. Called Aho, it was a song that I wrote for Philippe. And I use the word Aho with the acknowledgment that I am not native American.
It was a word that he used. He studied Chilean shamanism, and he closed all of his prayers with A si se Aho. And so I wrote the song in honor of his life and his passing and that word that he used often in his own spiritual work. And I didn't have the song fully fleshed out and I had booked the studio session. And I was so scared.
Um, so funny as I'm telling you this, where I realized before, every time I tell you that I did something, I say I was so scared. It feels like, you know, when your life right before you sort of enter into something where you expand, there's just this massive fear. I don't know. Maybe it's just me, but that's, that's how it feels.
And so then you gotta walk toward it, right?
Valerie: Yeah. Feel the fear and do it anyway. As they say.
Ara: I was scared. And I went in the studio and I hadn't had the song fully written and I decided to just sing it and layer the voice and then add in rhythm. And we recorded that song in one day and it's one of my favorites on the record.
And then that song, Ethan Sperry decided to arrange for the Chamber Choir and they do an arrangement of Aho now. And they've sung it all over the world. And I got to hear the Chamber Choir sing that song a few years ago, and that was one of the coolest.
Valerie: I heard that too. And it's, it's beautiful. What a great thing to do with the choir.
Beautiful, beautiful song and a beautiful tribute to your friend. Yeah.
Nasty Woman
So then your next recording, Nasty Woman comes out in 2017, and... you know, on your website, it says your next recording started with an earworm, a woman's writing retreat, and a bottle of whiskey. And that's just the best way to start a story.
So what is the story behind Nasty Woman?
Ara: So I was on a writing retreat and that was back when I was drinking and had had a lot of whiskey. And there was a guy who was on the writing retreat, who, um, had a lot to say about a lot of things. And...
Valerie: He was kinda mansplaining ya a little bit.
Ara: He was a mansplainer, you know. And a sweet guy and just, you know, couldn't help himself. And it was right after Trump got elected. And I think all of us were certainly feeling all the things that we were feeling right after that time, of course, was no idea how the last four years would go, or how intense it would all become.
But I was thinking, he said that I was intense. That was the word this guy used on the retreat. He was like, Ara, you're just... you're so intense. And he didn't mean it as a compliment. And, um, I've had some interesting experiences with men saying things. Um, I was at a radio interview and this man, it was like, you sing with... your very full-voiced. Why do you have to sing so loud? And I think there is something about having a big voice that certainly takes up space in a room. This particular guy was having a hard time with it.
So anyway, I was thinking about the term that Trump had used, a nasty woman, and the song just sort of tumbled out. It's like, Oh, you know, and at the time it was sort of a sarcastic song like, Oh, did I make the mistake of being too loud? Did I make you uncomfortable? Did I make the mistake of being too tall? Did I make the mistake of being too short, too fat, too thin, too loud, too soft, too blonde to brunette? You know, too white, too black, what is it? You know, and as women, all the toos that we can put in front of that statement. Right?
And so I was there with, um, my friend at the time, Beth Wood, who ended up becoming my duo partner, and another wonderful songwriter named Jen Hajj. And we broke out the whiskey bottle and started writing. What are the mistakes we make as women? What, you know, like, Oh, I made the mistake of being too matronly or, you know, too hard to, you know, whatever it is, you know. Did I make the mistake of being a mother? Did I make the mistake of not being a mother?
Right.
Valerie: All the things.
Ara: All the things. So, um, and this song sort of tumbled out, and it became my version of protest song. I don't know any artists that haven't made some version of a protest song in the last four years. So that, that was mine.
And then after I wrote the song, my good friend, Steven was like, let's record it. And then Josh, this wonderful documentary filmmaker, got on board and we made this five-minute video highlighting over a hundred women, um, in history who have effected great change. And it was a wonderful project.
Valerie: And so interesting to look back on now because of this particular moment that we're in, right? I mean, four years ago in January all these women in pink, pussy hats, went to Washington. And what a different kind of group and exercise in protest that was compared to what just happened last week. We're recording this a week after the insurrection at the Capitol. And I just remember waking up when he was elected and actually barely sleeping after he was elected because of the misogyny and the meanness that I saw in him. I knew it was going to mean chaos and pain for a lot of people.
Tony Morrison wrote something on the artist’s task in troubled times. And, um...
She said, "This is precisely the time when artists go to work. There's no time for despair, no place for self-pity. No need for silence, no room for fear.
We speak. We write. We do language. That is how civilizations heal. I know the world is bruised and bleeding. And though it is important not to ignore pain, it's also critical to refuse to succumb to its malevolence. Like failure, chaos contains information that can lead to knowledge, even wisdom, like art."
So, I don't know if this, the song that you wrote it's really fun, but it also has a lot in it about that moment that we were in. Where do you want to go with your art next?
Ara: I have no idea. I have no idea. And I think this place of not knowing is exactly where I'm supposed to be. I think this year has been a year of embracing the not knowing.
And after Nasty Woman I toured as a duo with Beth Wood in our duo, Stand And Sway, and did that full-time for a couple of years before COVID hit. And I think the thing that keeps coming up for me now is I'm coming back to this love of poetry and soundscaping around poetry.
I think poetry has saved my life this year as it did, uh, when I was 30 and leaving a cult and had nowhere, no way to get my brain around concepts that are hard to ever understand as a human. But poetry this year for me has been a way of keeping me grounded in beauty and exactly what you're talking about in a chaotic world. And poetry grounds me without answers.
Deep Blue
It grounds me without, this is the way, right? It's an arrow. It's an arrow to presence. And so I think on that last record with Beth, that we did,
Valerie: Deep blue, right?.
Ara: Yep. And one of the songs was called, A Woman Will Stand And Sway. It was a poem that Beth wrote. Beth's a wonderful poet. And I have always loved the idea of wrapping sound around poems, to point to the poems with the voice. And I can imagine moving forward that I will do more of that because, to me, I love the idea of marrying the voice and poems and pointing to poetry and to words through sound in a way that gets people to listen, to listen in, to listen more deeply.
Valerie: That's a gorgeous song. And I can't get it out of my head, actually. I've never heard anything quite like it.
You and Beth wrote somewhere that I read you said, We hope that this music is like a tender hammer that can help crack open truth and the things we all want to say to each other.
I just love that. And that's what it feels like. And it does it in such a powerful yet gentle way. So yeah, I would love to hear more like that.
So I want to ask you a couple more things. Your voice, and the voices of women, you've said, “I think that this music gives women permission. To be themselves to be where they are, to be older, to have wrinkles, to have lost, to be mothers, to be 60 and never had children and have people ask them all the time.
Why aren't you married? Why haven't you ever had children? And that there are all kinds of ways to move through the world and be a woman. And actually, that's true for men too. This gender dichotomy doesn't…” This is you talking now, I'm quoting you.
Ara: Where did you get this quote?
Valerie: An interview that you did. “This gender dichotomy doesn't just affect women. The ability for men to be tender and sensitive and open and kind, and not to have a huge paycheck to be worth being a man. That's important too. We each have roles that unjustly keep us in our own cages. It's not just women.”
So you said that what's coming next for you in an email that you were writing to me is that you want to help other people get out of the cages they find themselves in. How, how are you going to do that?
Ara: Well, I'm going to start a master's program this fall to become a psychologist and to hopefully find a way to marry the work that I've been doing for the past few years as a voice coach. And work in the field of somatic psychology.
How can the voice, um, not only be a tool for outward healing and performance, but also a tool for personal and deep healing in the somatic work of allowing our voices to be there for our bodies, for our souls, for the sake of joy. For the singular work of making peace with our own voice, both spiritual and physical.
I, this past year have not been performing. Obviously, I know a lot of people have moved to performing online. I have been home with two girls and have been teaching full-time online teaching, uh, voice students, and voice coaching.
And what I have found is that I love it so much. Um, Valerie, you know, this. When I came to you a few years ago and said, how do I teach, what do I do? I really want to teach and I don't know how. And I remember you said to me, then the thing I wish I could have told myself is that you don't have to have all the answers.
Valerie: What do you know?
Ara: Right? I was like, Oh, Valerie. I think about that all the time.
Valerie: It's the same as being a parent too, right? I mean...
Ara: Oh gosh. It does. I know. Yeah. Yeah. And I think being a parent this year with two kids home full-time has been singularly the most creative thing I have ever done. I was talking to somebody the other day, and I was like, I haven't been creative this year. And they're like, are you kidding me? All done. Let's be creative, you know?
Um, but yes, I think to work with women and women, in particular, finding a voice and finding their way to permission to sing and speak and be in an authentic way, um, without a goal of success or accomplishment, but rather with the goal of awakening, unfolding, committing to our own walk with the beauty that is just being alive and being human in this wide world.
Making Peace With Your Voice
It's an extraordinary thing to make peace with your voice. And part of that is making peace with shame, making peace with wherever you happen to be in life, with whatever quote, success or failure you've had. I know that, certainly firsthand.
And coming to music later in life, I have a lot of students, mostly women, I have a few male students, but mostly women who are coming back to music or who are, have never sung, or who think music belongs to performers and not to them. And I think that does such a great disservice to us as human beings because music belongs in each of our throats. It's our fingerprint, right? It's the sound of who we are.
And so I'm hopeful that moving forward... I think performing and the outward act of music, I see now, as I'm getting older, too, that it sort of comes in and out like tides. There are times... like I spent two years almost full-time on the road and obviously this year has been a time to be pulled in. It's like a fallow time. Right?
I don't know how much the outward act of making music versus the inner work of using sound and a place of healing, those things sort of, I think, come and go and work together. But working with people one-on-one and helping women right now, especially, believe that their voice matters, that it's important, that it's imperfect, and in that imperfection is the beauty.
Even just today, talking to you about all these mistakes. I feel it in my body, you know. It's like the things that we feel the most ashamed of or the most... the biggest struggles in our life really are the places where all of the diamonds are. It's like, Um, that's where all the seeds are of compassion for yourself and for other people.
And I think in the work of music and the work of voice, it's a lifelong journey. And it's a journey of finding peace with yourself and understanding that music has this just profound ability to heal on so many levels if you show up for it. And it will show up for you in ways that will continually surprise you.
All of the people in my life that are the closest to me have been introduced to me through music in some way. And that, to me, is the wealth of music so much more than whatever you might define success as. The love of people and relationships that music has brought into my life is the greatest source of my wealth.
And I think music gives back to you in ways that you cannot possibly imagine and it's worth every minute of devoting time and energy and love to it.
Valerie: Wow. You're inspiring me to fall in love with it all over again. Thank you. Really. That is the gift. All of those things are huge. It is more about finding your own voice than it is about success.
I know, you know, it's the journey, it's not the destination, all those things that people say.
So if you were to go back in time, and walk in that room where you spent those first healing moments coming out of that really dark place that you were in, in New York, what would you say to yourself in that room with that version of Ara?
Ara: I would say, hang on because you're becoming your friend. That's the word that came to me when you were talking. That's when I began to be my friend, I began to befriend myself. And I think in the darkest times we hear our voice. When everything is taken away, just like that Mary Oliver poem, The Journey says, we've come to recognize that the sound we're hearing is our voice.
And I think, God, I don't know. I think I would just say, hold on, you're going to make it. And your friendship with yourself is... it's like Casa Blanca, you know, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. I hope that my life is continually a journey of investing into becoming better and better friends with myself. Keep being fully here and keep giving something that's singular and true and authentic.
Valerie: Awesome.
So where can people find you?
Ara: Well, I have a website that I have barely touched this last year with all that's gone on, but I do still have one out there. It's araleejames.com. And if anyone is looking for voice coaching, or if there are women that are like, Whoa, I would love to sing, but I don't know how, please email me. I would love to meet you and help you start singing.
Valerie: Cool. Is there anything I haven't asked you that you wish I would?
Ara: No, but I do want to say, Valerie, I don't know how to express to you, what a gift you are in the world. And I guess I would just say, I would like to take a minute to tell you that I think that you and your life has changed so many people's lives. And it has perhaps some to do with the music that you make and so much more to do with how bright, and generous, and graceful, and humble, and present you are. And I have a handful of heroes that have absolutely altered the course of my life, and you're one of them. And I'm so grateful for all the music that you've made. And for all the times that you have been scared and pushed through because it has changed my life. And I just want to say what a difference you make.
Valerie: Thank you. Those are really kind words. I feel like when you came to my studio, I didn't even know what to do with this incredible voice that was standing in front of me. But you were ready. You were so ready to move forward and make friends with your voice, yourself, and learn whatever you could. You know? Those are the kind of people we want to walk into our studio, right?
The people who are already broken, they're already open. They're ready. They're ready to find that connection to that thing that they know will help them heal all the way. And that's where you were. And so I feel like I had nothing to do with it. I just kind of was there and held space and you got to run and open your mouth and sing.
So. It was a gift to me. It was a gift to me too.
Well, thank you again for sharing your stories here on the podcast. I know that they will help other people.
Ara: Thanks so much for having me. It's been a real treat to talk today.
Valerie: Thanks for listening to this episode of Living A Vocal Life. You'll find complete show notes for the episode videos of my guests and more offerings for singers at valeriedaysings.com. I'd also love to hear from you! So please let me know what you found useful in this conversation and what you'd like to hear more of in episodes to come right there on my website or on Facebook or Instagram @valeriedaysings or Twitter @valerieday.
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Until next time. Be well, keep singing, and thanks for listening.