The Seeker - Aria Prame was born to sing

There’s more to young and lovely Seattle jazz vocalist Aria Prame than just singing. As a singer, she’s almost unparalleled in her control, power, interpretation and innate groove, able to turn almost any tune into a jazz standard in an instant. 

But Prame gives careful and in-depth consideration to the music she sings, beyond the notes, pitch, set list, and the next gig. She thinks about our human soul connection and music’s magical ability to tap into that connection.

Then again, she’s been at it for far longer than most singers. She’s been paying homage to music from way back into her childhood, while the rest of us were learning to crawl and picking our noses, bobbing mindlessly to Sesame Street rhymes. From the time she was very small, her family exposed her to the wonders of all kinds of music, transcending language, labels and barriers. Whether it was enjoying and joining in on her mom’s bathtime concerts, joining in on worship with a priest, a choir and a congregation, or joining in celebration of all the classic musicals of the era, Prame absorbed it all.

A transplant from the East Coast since 2002, Prame turned what was supposed to be a brief stay in Seattle into home, finding herself in demand as a singer, working the Whisky Bar downtown for about five years before moving on to Café Amore in Belltown, Thursday nights, sitting in here and there, doing Egan’s, Jazz Alley, and teaching voice from her private studio. 

That’s not all. She looks forward to so much more. You’ll be surprised. I know I was.

I read in your bio that you come from Boston, having studied at the New England Conservatory. What brought you to Seattle?

I did study with faculty at New England Conservatory and took advantage of my connections to the school through the many friends I had who attended, though I myself was a student at Boston University. I attended master classes and read their textbooks after they were finished and surrounded myself in the NEC student community, living and learning vicariously through them. I came to Seattle after a life-changing, three-month stay in Nepal, where I saw mountains for the first time. I decided that I was meant to spend some more of my life near mountains and came to Seattle for what I thought was going to be a one-to-two-year adventure before going back to the East Coast. But, life has a way of grabbing on to you and I have become very involved in the jazz community here in Seattle. It has been a great place for me to learn and grow as a musician. And I still love the mountains.

You look so young, like you’re a senior in high school or college. If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?

Ha! Flattery will get you everywhere! I often have people say to me, "Wow, you're so talented for your age!," and then when I tell them how old I am, they respond with a somewhat disappointed, "Oh." So, perhaps my talents are more impressive the younger people think I am and I should leave things mysterious... Let's just say that though I don't actually remember the 70s, I didn't miss them entirely.

In that same vein, where does the maturity come from in your singing? It’s like you’ve lived a thousand lifetimes with a million heady adventures, instead of being just a young innocent in the big city.

Women have been letting their voices wail out as an expression of their connection to a very deep and timeless place for thousands of years. Maybe before we even had words. I believe that on its deepest level, all music is connected in this way and connects us to a timeless place, where all the depth of human experience from the beginning of time can be found within us. To tap into that well, even if only for a moment, is what drives me as an artist. From that perspective, I have lived a thousand lifetimes. We all have.

How does presentation affect your performances as a female singer fronting a band? How do you think it’s different for a woman taking the mic (in terms of, say, the way you dress onstage, the chatter in between songs) compared to a man?

I try to present myself on stage in a way that makes me feel comfortable and confident, so that I can then let it go and forget about it. The last thing I want to be thinking about in the middle of a song is what I look like. I think people enjoy themselves when they feel the performer is being natural and is comfortable with themselves, whether that person is male or female.

Name some of your musical influences growing up and why you became a singer.

My first memories of singing are with my mother in the bathtub. It was a nightly ritual, and I still remember all the songs we would sing. When I was very young (four or five), I remember wandering around the large yard at my grandparents’ house by myself singing dramatic odes, declaring my love to the sun, the trees, the flowers, and any other natural wonder to which I wanted to sing out my devotion. I don't remember a time when I did not feel I was a singer.

My family is part of the Eastern Orthodox Church and in that tradition, the entire mass is in song, in a dramatic and mystical melodic conversation that soars back and forth between the priest and the choir. The transcendent power of that music has always been a powerful influence on me.

My father introduced me to several musicals as a young child and I proceeded to learn every word, every part, and every inflection to musicals like, “Evita,” “Chess,” and “Les Miserables” by the time I was nine. I continued to be fascinated by the dramatic and emotional intensity of these stories into high school and I believe the modeling I did of this hugely dynamic range of voice types and tonal qualities was a huge part of my vocal training.

The single most influential singer and model for me growing up, though, was definitely Patsy Cline.

How would you characterize yourself as a performer?

As a performer, I try my best to allow myself to settle into a deep and authentic place with the music and the energy that is happening on the stage. I am always striving to find that magical space where creativity and expression flow from an inner, and perhaps outer "other" source. I try to focus on finding that space, and hope that the depth of the music and the genuineness of its source come through and are experienced by the audience. My greatest hope is to draw the listener into a timeless moment where, for that moment, they are transfixed in a moment of creation. For me, it is easiest to find this place when I am relaxed and having fun, so I try to keep things playful and fun in my performances.

I remember wandering around the large yard at my grandparents’ house by myself singing dramatic odes, declaring my love to the sun, the trees, the flowers, and any other natural wonder to which I wanted to sing out my devotion. I don't remember a time when I did not feel I was a singer. 

What would audiences expect to see and hear when they go to one of your gigs?

I've learned that everyone sees and hears something different, depending on their perspective, so I would be as interested as you to hear the answer to that question. But regardless of that, I suppose one would probably see a singer singing great classic tunes with a rockin' rhythm section and hopefully a few horn players. Hopefully, they will see (and hear) the playful synergy and dynamic conversations that the language and tradition of jazz have developed for creative minds to communicate and express with. And maybe some Monk. And sparkly earrings.

What have been some of your most exciting gigs, performances in your career?

I performed as a semi-finalist in the Kobe Female Vocal Jazz Competition at Jazz Alley, which was a thrill. Being used to playing in mostly small, often noisy clubs, it was electrifying to perform for a full house at a large venue with a completely rapt audience. I also did a gig at a surprise bachelor party with a 1930s speakeasy/burlesque theme. When the cocktail waitresses walked out topless, that was pretty exciting, especially for the guys in the band! I was impressed that they didn't drop a beat (though they did drop their jaws)!

You play with your band at Café Amore in Belltown every Thursday night [they’re off on December, btw]. Is there any other venue you’re at regularly?

I've been trying to put my focus on building a strong and sustainable community on Thursdays at Amore so, other than private parties and events, I haven't been pursuing any other regular gigs. This economy has been hard on musicians and holding on to regular gigs has been challenging for all of us. I played with Ronnie Pierce at the legendary Whisky Bar Jam session on Wednesday nights for five years until this past June. I play occasionally at local venues, like Egan's and Local Color and plan on having more shows in the new year.

What else would you love to do musically?

Believe it or not, lately I have really been wanting to study Hindustani (North Indian) classical music. I feel I have a lot of influences and musical inspirations that don't necessarily come from the traditional American jazz direction and I would like to continue to learn and explore in all musical directions, so that I can bring them together in a way that is true and authentic for me.