By: Ruby Fishman

Before I saw the vocalist of the decade, Cécile McLorin Salvant, I had come across her in August, a little more than a month prior to her 12-night run at Seventh Avenue’s Village Vanguard. During that last Summer month, Salvant appeared on my screen, accompanied by her pianist and longtime friend Sullivan Fortner, covering Judy Kuhn’s “Colors of the Wind” from Disney’s Pocahontas. A lovely song indeed, but even more meaningful and rich when backed by such a passionate vocalist and talented pianist.

Fast forward past some binge listening to a bit of research here and a reasonable purchase there, two tickets were reserved for my mother and me to see Salvant and company at the Village Vanguard on October 6th. And for those who haven’t been to a show at the Vanguard, run immediately to that packed, oddly humid, and historic basement. Because that Wednesday night, the music was full of life, and the drinks were potent with spirits.

That night, we settled into two chairs at the center, and I couldn’t help but overhear the Salvant superfan next to me. He saw her in September at the JazzFest in White Plains, NY, highlighting her rendition of a track from the 1959 musical Gypsy. “Are you a vocalist?” he asked, “No,” I replied. And then I imagined myself as one and laughed, as I am only a meager student-worker at a radio station. But I wasn’t so different from him or the crowd, as I was there for one person and one person only, Cécile McLorin Salvant, who soon entered from the back of the club and up the stage in a black parachute dress and white fascinator.

Suddenly, the crowd was no longer full of chatter but stacked with whistles and cheers for Salvant and her band, which consisted of pianist Sullivan Fortner, bassist Yasushi Nakamura, and drummer Kyle Poole. With a smile from ear to ear, Salvant promptly started her second set of the night, the first at 8 p.m. and this at 10 p.m. Her first song was from her 2018 album The Window, titled “The Gentleman is a Dope.” A track originally from the 1947 musical Allegro by the infamous theater-writing team of composer Richard Rodgers and lyricist-dramatist Oscar Hammerstein II. Salvant’s version is all about her facial expressions; her eyes widening on “The gentleman isn’t bright” and her smile during “He isn’t very smart”

uggested that this set involved a performance, not just vocals of perfect pitch and tone.

The Roger & Hammerstein theme was kept up with “Stepsisters’ Lament,” a song from their 1957 musical Cinderella, and another cover recorded by the singer (For One to Love, 2015). “That was definitely my anthem at parties,” Salvant said, and the crowd laughed, hanging on to her every word like she was the people’s princess. Amidst her beautiful voice was the clinking of glasses at the bar and the occasional whispers from a waitress taking orders. The club’s atmosphere was ripe with liquor when Salvant whipped out Clarence Williams’ “Nobody in Town Can Bake a Sweet Jelly Roll Like Mine.” As I sat there, drinking my Negroni, reminiscent of the straight Campari my Grandad would drink, Salvant took me and the crowd back in time. Suddenly, the Village Vanguard became a muggy southern bar in the 1930s. This ability to transport people to another world, as words on a page do, is a rare power Salvant and her band wield.

Not only did the crowd get transported, but Salvant did as well. She had a stank face every time the bassist was about to pluck his fingers off and when the drummer couldn’t help but transmit literal heat to his drums. It wasn’t until “Ghost Song,” the title track from her 2022 album that we truly saw her and Fortner immerse themselves in jazz. Salvant let him take the reins in the beginning so that his vocals could be showcased; she leaned on the piano and put the mic up to his face. And then she sat, right next to him, and the pair created magic. For every line she would sing, he would follow with a higher octave while still maintaining the keys. Their voices complimented each other so well that I wondered if this was love. But it was all love! All of that jazz, all of those musical covers, even her somber cover of Stevie Wonders’ “Visions,” which had the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop, was love. Salvant and her band’s take on jazz put life into one’s heart, which left me, my mother, and the entirety of the Village Vanguard wanting an endless amount of more.