The Poetic & Inspiring Voice of Cécile McLorin Salvant at Chicago Symphony Orchestra

From Left to Right: Sullivan Fortner (Piano), Yasushi Nakamura (Bass), Marvin Sewell (Guitar), Cécile McLorin Salvant (Vocals), and Alexa Tarantino (Flute). Photos by Todd Rosenberg Photography.

I decided to gift my mom tickets to see Cécile McLorin Salvant at the Chicago Symphony Orchestra for Mother’s Day. I did this because she spends a lot of time complaining that we don’t take her to performances enough – albeit it was nearly impossible to do so during the first year of the pandemic, but also because I wanted us all to have a good reason to go to the CSO for the first time since the pandemic started. Not knowing much about Salvant’s music ahead of time, I did my research and listened to her top songs as well as a huge chunk of her discography. The description of the event mentioned that she’d be performing songs from jazz, Broadway, and cabaret. I didn’t know what exactly to expect from her setlist, but I had full trust in the production of it all.

Cécile McLorin Salvant’s stage presence blew me away. Her brightly colored circus-inspired costume and her big, vivacious smile immediately brought an energy to the space that ignited a sense of giddiness, like I was about to be full-body moved. Joining her on stage, her equally magnetic band consisted of Alexa Tarantino on flute, Sullivan Fortner on piano, Marvin Sewell on guitar, Yasushi Nakamura on bass, and Keita Ogawa on percussion. Each of them held such a confident yet modest position, creating a natural synergy between the ensemble.

Cécile began with a song off her new record Ghost Song, a stunning genre-bending composition with classical jazz at its core, but a looser, experimental, folk overtone guiding the album in full. I was instantly captivated and covered in chills, Salvant had my goosebumps’ full attention. After a few songs of us getting to understand Salvant and her band, she began the emotional and musical complexity of “Fog” off her 2015 album For One to Love, which feels like an entire operatic journey in a song. In many ways, Salvant’s original music and renditions of covers feel like adapted pieces of narrative poetry turned into a melody. There is something captivating by the way she is so sure, so in control of her voice – and how it transposes confidence onto her already talented band. It’s hard not to feel completely entrenched in them as an entity, following each bass strum, drum beat, guitar or flute solo with full attention.

When Salvant starts the song “Until” off of her new record Ghost Song, there is a quietness that consumes the entire concert hall. Sullivan Fortner and her share a deep connection in the way a jazz vocalist and her pianist might, but theirs is almost telepathic. The keys follow her voice while she creates a scene, one glistening of another love story she is inching to tell us about. She sings, “Here in your arms / where the world is impossibly still / with a million dreams to fulfill / and a matter of moments until the dancing ends” and then lulls into more, “Here in your arms where / everything seems to be clear / not a solitary thing will I fear / except when this moment comes near the dance's end / If I caught the world in an hourglass / settled up the moon so we could ride / until the stars grew dim, until…” Suddenly the music shifts, the entire band chimes in and it is almost tango-esque. The story is yet again one full of yearning, of love lost, of desire – a common theme throughout the entire evening.

By the end of the hour and a half, I found myself still wanting more. In their encore, Salvant came back on stage with Fortner, and they performed a broadway song. I thought, “this person can sing anything you hand to her.” Watching Cécile McLorin Salvant live isn’t just a breath of fresh air, it is the feeling of your senses being abruptly awakened by the air itself. I was inspired and enamored by not just Cécile’s voice, but by her command of it, her storytelling, her deep passion and her earnest love of love. In a world that perpetually feels bleak, she creates a sound that reminds you that life is romantic just as it is painful – but we must allow ourselves to feel both in order to let ourselves truly live. Inspired by her passion for feeling and learning and storytelling and art-making, I started believing in life’s unruly beauty once again.