Interview by: Larry Benicewicz

Larry Benicewicz is an educator, and also a writer for the ‘Blues Rag’, Baltimore, MD, which is published monthly by Baltimore Blues Society, Inc.

LADY MEM'FIS   "STEPPING OUT"
Perhaps every major city can boast of one--a chanteuse equally at home with R&B, jazz, and, of course, blues. And I might add that, regardless of the locale, these singers are on the brink of extinction and undoubtedly the last generation that can even remember the likes of Billie Holiday, LaVern Baker, Dinah Washington, or Sarah Vaughan. Yes, they are a dying breed. God forbid that today's children will one day consider Whitney Houston as "old school" and model their careers after hers.
And just how many up-and-comers can release a CD which can seamlessly run the gamut from elegant pop standards like Ray Noble's ‘The Very Thought of You’ to torch songs like Lena Horne's signature ‘Stormy Weather’ to Dr. John's funky New Orleans-inspired classic, ‘Such A Night,’ and finally to soul anthems like Ray Charles’ ‘It's Alright’? I assure you, not many. But this is just what San Franciso-based jazz and blues diva, Lady Mem'fis, has accomplished in her latest CD (and aptly named) ‘Expressions Of A Legacy’, a 14-track, hour's worth of an Odyssey which visits all facets of American roots music. Over a long life in music, this wide array of genres has become her inheritance and for which she is eternally grateful to have been exposed. Blessed with a rich, expressive, and yet delicately fragile voice with echoes of both Billie Holiday and Dinah Washington, Lady Mem'fis could have easily become a household name in jazz or blues circles.
It's said that one can judge a person by the company he keeps. And if this aphorism is to be taken at face value, Lady Mem'fis's circle of friends speak volumes of the high esteem with which she is held in the jazz/blues community. "Larry, you can't miss this party. I'll guarantee you that there'll be some stars there," she told me last Christmas when I visited San Francisco. But upon my arrival, I was jetlagged and a tad discombobulated. I managed to my eternal chagrin to somehow skip the soiree, which included the great singer Etta Jones, jazz organist Jimmy McGriff, and one of my old time favorites, the much underrated ex-King and Savoy records crooner, Jimmy Scott--all who happened to be enjoying a rare day off from an extended engagement at Yoshi's, a watering hole for the well-heeled in Oakland, just across the bay. I've heard tell that it turned out to be one of those old-fashioned jam sessions that lasted into the wee hours of the morning and Jimmy Scott(once managed by my dear friend, Alain Duquesnes, the barman at the George V Hotel in Paris) was in rare form, serenading the drunken revellers until no one was left standing. And, naturally, Lady Mem'fis, tried to sound so matter of factly as she recounted all that had transpired that magical evening, the camaraderie that flowed between "her chums in the business" with whom, "of course," she shared a first-name basis. But it was not without some dues paying along the way that this most elegant and refined, rail-thin vocalist grudgingly earned their intimacy. Respect like this just doesn't occur overnight.
Back in Baton Rouge, the fourth of seven children, the then-Jacqueline Johnson couldn't recall when music wasn't a big part of her existence. And despite her humble surroundings, singing was always a source of joy and comfort to her, even as early as three years old. And people began to take notice. "We had to go to church. This was not a debatable issue. And even at Mt Zion Baptist I was distinguishing myself as a soloist," she said. In her formative years, her dentist, Dr. Valerian Smith, in particular took a keen interest in her development and even fixed her teeth gratis "because I had such a beautiful smile." Later in high school, she, like her older sisters Bobbie and Jerry(now Jheri) became a majorette. "Just loved to march to the beat and twirl that baton," she added.
It was Bobbie(who tragically died in childbirth at 20) who later became a source of inspiration and introduced her to jazz. "She became quite the singer at Southern University , a kind of resident Dinah Washington. And here I was this young brat hanging out with her. I still remember a gift of hers--Billie Holiday's Lady In Satin[1958, Columbia]--which I've kept to this day," said Lady Mem'fis. Similary, Bobbie's sibling Jackie would also attend that same college pursuing degrees in Speech Pathology and Audiology.
But even before the end of her high school years, her reputation was such that she(billed as Jackie Johnson) was called upon by local promoters, former big band leader Buddy Stewart, to open for big name acts like Irma Thomas("a warm wonderful person"), Otis Redding, Hank Crawford, and the Four Tops at the Lincoln Theatre on South Boulevard in Baton Rouge. It was a big thing then because all the soul superstars would appear there," she said.
Also within this time frame came her "discovery" at 16 while singing at the still-segregated Lincoln Beach on the shore of Lake Pontchartrain. "I wasn't really doing any entertaining per se just sort of vocalizing out loud when I was overheard by this guy named Curley. It must have been Curley Moore of Huey Smith's Clowns[Moore replaced Bobby Marchan in the early 60s] because he introduced me to this producer in New Orleans, Billy Tate," said Lady Mem'fis.
Now, this Billy Tate was sort of a jack of all trades in the close-knit New Orleans musical establishment of the early 60s. He was not only a standout guitarist and bassist who did a lot of studio work but also a longtime member of Frank Pania's houseband at his legendary Dew Drop Inn on 2836 La Salle, a notorious after-hours hangout(where according to Dr. John anything could be
obtained) and jam session site. His major claim to fame was the12-bar blues rocker, "Single Life," on Imperial(5337) in 1954 which featured a rollicking piano by Fats Domino. Tate soon became the arbiter of taste for the short-lived Tulane label. Lady Mem'fis as Jackie Johnson became a charter member, finally releasing a solitary single--"Too Late" bw "A True Love." And in spite of its initial promise and loving treatment, the disk created hardly a ripple on the local charts.
But Lady Mem'fis as Jackie Johnson was not quite finished with the Crescent City, as she teamed up with yet another musician, pianist Bobby Powell in the mid-60s. However, this time it was Lionel Whitfield who saw the potential in this young song interpreter and had her perform backups for Powell, who with the help of Stan Lewis of Shreveport-based Jewel records had a national smash on Whitfield's Whit label(714) in 1965, "C.C. Rider," a soulful remake of Chuck Willis's late 50s, blues shuffle blockbuster on Atlantic. In the early 70s, Whitfield with protege Powell moved on to Ernie Young's Nashville-stationed Excello label and had some success before that label too folded. But by that time, Jackie Johnson was long gone to the West Coast.In the late 50s, her older sister Jheri had moved to the Bay Area and that offered Jackie an excuse to broaden her horizons, so to speak. While still attending Southern University, she would make the western trek every six months, especially during the summers. "My father worked for the railroad so that the price of tickets was negligible. And I became a real gypsy for a spell, flitting back and forth across the country," said Lady Mem'fis. But she soon gave up this nomadic lifestyle for two compelling reasons.
"Let's say that there were more opportunities where I could make use of my talents. In fact, San Francisco had quite a vibrant jazz scene and one of the premier clubs in the country was located there--Jimbo's Bop City on Filmore, where Dinah Washington, Duke Ellington, and Ella Fitzgerald frequently appeared. I soon made my own professional debut at Sam Jordan's on Third St. in the Hunter's Point neighborhood and eventually the gig stretched for a year," she said. When asked whether it was an easy transition from R&B to jazz, she answered in the affirmative. "It wasn't that I was completely neglecting jazz all along, but back home I could do a variety and get away with it. Here it was all specializing," she answered, commenting upon the compartmentalization of musical styles of area lounges.
Another motive for putting down roots in the Bay Area was the birth of her son,Robert Henry, in 1968. "I decided to settle down and create a stable environment for him," she said. But upon his arrival, she found that the whole musical scene was changing in San Francisco from jazz and blues to music with a decided message. The liberal minded city became the national focal point for the cultural revolution of the 60s and the free love/anti-war/smoke pot/drop out slogans of the hippies of Haight-Ashbury were only some of its overt manifestations. "I too became politicized and firmly supported the Black Power movement. I found that musical theatre in general to be very convenient in not only expressing my philosophy but also because I could bring my baby along while I performed," she said. It was during this tumultuous period that she became influenced by jazz singer/composer/pianist Nina Simone who by that time had released the introspective album, The Essential Nina Simone(RCA, 1967), which included "Mr. Bojangles," "To Be Young, Gifted, and Black," and "I Wish I Knew How It Feels To Be Free"--songs which addressed the racial topics of the day.
She took up with a "wild and crazy" assortment of talented individuals which
became the Black Light Explosion Company, a troupe that used dance, music, multi-media, poetry, and the stage to convey social statements to its audience. "If you remember, soul music in general was changing, becoming highly critical of society with Lamont Dozier's 'Fish Ain't Bitin'' and Marvin Gaye's 'What's Going On?,' and Edwin Starr's 'War.'" I was singing essentially a cappella, accompanied only by Billy Johnson on trap drums. If I felt like singing Billie Holiday's 'Strange Fruit[her signature tune about a lynching],'it could be as effective as the rest," said Lady Mem'fis. The highlight of her four-year association with the Black Light Explosion Company was an invitation to present their production of "Beautiful Black Cat" at the Lincoln Center as part of its First Annual Drama Festival in 1972. "By then I was acting and even did a little dancing. But I couldn't go on the road with this crew nor stay very long because of the baby," she said.
But besides her young child, another phenomenon in the early and middle 70s conspired at the time to severely curtail her vocal aspirations--disco. "I decided to put my career on the back burner for the sake of my son and I won't look back on this sacrifice. But, to tell the truth, the live music scene shrank so much during this period that it was almost non-existent. I don't know if I could have made it under those circumstances anyway, "she said. Early on, she took a day job with the school district(for whom she still works with in computer technology) and temporarily "retired" from the entertainment arena, save for some theatre auditions and a brief stint as a magician's apprentice.
Although Lady Mem'fis started venturing out again in the early 80s when blues and jazz experienced a national resurgence, it wasn't until her son's graduation in 1986 that she began coming out in earnest. "It was culture shock for me, a whole new ball game. These clubs had such a short shelf life. I'd think things were going rosy and they'd close after six months and I'd have to move on. Forget about job security," she said. One of her first paying gigs was at Bajone's on Valencia Street where formerly she'd just sat in. "I decided that I had to reinvent myself because really after a twelve year layoff people tended to forget about me altogether. I had to start back at square one to establish myself," she said. She first billed herself as merely "Mem'fis," after the first capital of Egypt--a name that carried mystical importance for her. But it was the house drummer of Bajone's, E.W. Wainwright, who fully completed her stage name. "After he heard me sing, he dubbed me 'Lady,' christening me with his drumsticks in a mock knighting ceremony," she said with a hearty laugh. Although her new monicker had a nice ring, she confessed that her mother never really accepted the fact that she was now an artist formerly known as Jackie Johnson(or even Jacqui Johnson as she spells it now).
By the mid and late 80s, Lady Mem'fis was quite recognized about town, and attracting a loyal following at a succession of clubs and cabarets including Chez Jacques on California St., Fanny's on 18th in the Castro district, and Rasellas on Divisadero Street. "Rasellas is owned by an Ethiopian, Aganafa, and he has opened a second franchise on Fillmore. There are rumors that a Blue Note might follow. And people are cautiously optimistic that the area might be revitalized as it once was--an entertainment strip like back in the days of Jimbo's Bop City," she said.
In 1988 at Pasand on Union St. a significant connection came about--James Campbell. For two decades the New York City-born James has been able to support himself as a pianist, which is certainly a tribute to his musicianship and no mean feat, as live music venues continue to dwindle. Since that first encounter, immediately sensing Lady Mem'fis's gifts as vocalist, he became her number one fan and booster. Having inaugurated a blues/jazz engagement at the panoramic View Lounge(39th floor) of the Downtown Marriott at 4th and Mission that same year, he invited her on board when a position became available in 1992. For nearly a decade, they have become fixtures--better yet, institutions--on Saturday evenings at the classy lodging and people still marvel at the chemistry between them. Often joining the two are Mike Bacile on bass and Ranzell Merritt on percussion. "I have to admit now that things are better for me. I don't have to hustle or solicit for gigs. People call me," said Lady Mem’fis. And a big plus reputation-wise was her first calling card, an album co-produced by James and her in 1998, Lady Mem'fis, which featured the Marriott ensemble with the addition of Richard Howell on saxophone. As in her recent effort, she ably demonstrated her vocal aplomb with a diverse selection of genres including jazz, Nina Simone's "My Baby Just Cares For Me," show tunes, "On A Clear Day," standards like Gershwin's "The Man I Love" and "Moonglow," and classic blues like Little Willie John's "Fever" and "St. Louis Blues." And similar to her current CD(which is produced by her and showcases James on several tracks) the accompaniment here is also sensitively understated and doesn't compete with but rather compliments the vocals. Although her first album never received much airplay, it still was highly regarded, so much so, that Guy Fay of Paris, who represents Dixiefrog records as roving talent scout, proferred it to his boss for distribution in France, only to have it rejected, not on its own merits, but because he thought it would be a better gamble to take a chance on “world music” which was sweeping the continent at the time. Guy, by the way, thought that Lady Mem'fis would be a natural, appearing at Paris's hotel Le Meridien's sumptuous Lionel Hampton room which specializes in presenting uptown and cosmopolitan blues/jazz by Afro-American artists. When Lady Mem’fis travels to the Baltimore-Washington area for several shows the last weekend in April, it will be her first foray to the East Coast. I asked her whether this would be an isolated incident or if she really wanted to spread her wings and put herself on the national map. "You know I could retire any time from the school board. Your second career should be your own--what you really want to do--and I'm ready to seize the opportunity. But, I don't desire superstardom. No, I don't want to have to disguise myself to go to the supermarket out of fear I'd be recognized. I'd just like to be comfortable while making a little name for myself," she said.