Feb 16, 2007

In and out the 'Revolving Door'

Brother's illness inspires artist's album, reflection

By Paul Freeman / Entertainment Writer

San Francisco-based artist Joyce Cooling has established herself as one of the world's top jazz guitarists. Her R&B-flavored, boundary-expanding sound displays nuance, elegance and emotion. There are echoes of Wes Montgomery in her satiny playing. But this largely self-taught guitar genius has developed a deliciously distinctive style all her own.

At Sunday's benefit concert for the National Alliance on Mental Illness in Half Moon Bay, Cooling will be joined by a dazzling lineup that includes some members of her current band - keyboardist/producer/songwriting partner Jay Wagner, Nelson Braxton (Braxton Brothers) and Rob Rhodes - as well as friends from previous bands, including Claudio Amaral (Viva Brasil), Kitty Margolis, Celso Alberti and more.

They'll explore Cooling's straight-ahead jazz roots, Brazilian influences and her latest CD, "Revolving Door," which brims with moving music. A portion of the album's proceeds goes to NAMI, as well. Cooling and her family have been involved with NAMI for many years. Her brother suffers from schizophrenia.

The title of her "Revolving Door" CD refers to the issue of mental illness. "Because it affects behavior, people are ashamed. There's a stigma attached to it," Cooling said. "There's no shame in saying, 'A family member of mine is struggling with cancer.' But in our culture, when it comes to someone admitting that either they or a family member struggles with mental illness, there's embarrassment. People don't want to talk about it and it stays in the dark. So treatment falls far behind.

"It's archaic," Cooling said. "(Treatment) lags sadly behind the advances in the rest of the medical community, despite the fact that one in four families is affected by mental illness. My brother goes into the hospital and they really don't know what to do. So he's in for a few days and he's back out. But he's still ill. In and out - the revolving door."

The tragedy of 9-11 made Cooling question her role in the grand scheme of things. Her family lives in the New York area. "Seeing the rescue workers and medical workers going in and helping, I thought, 'And I play guitar? Great. What a boon to society I am,'" she said. And added "My gig seemed pink and fluffy."

With time, she gained a different perspective on her purpose. "At the point of impact in the crisis, music and the arts are not much good," she said. But after the dust settled and the healing process began, the integral role of music and the soul became apparent to her. "When people have been shattered like that, the arts are what brings them around."

Her desire to create something meaningful in her music quickly led her back to the issue of mental illness. It's only the title track of the new CD that relates to the subject matter. "Jay (her songwriting partner) and I tried to convey in music the angst and bluesiness, and yet also the hope for the future for people struggling with this (illness)."

Other numbers deliver an array of themes and feelings, including a couple of beautiful Cooling vocals. "These are songs about life and people and places," she said.

Musical people and places have fascinated Cooling throughout her life. As a teen, too young to get into New York's legendary Village Vanguard jazz club, Cooling sat by an open door in the stairwell and heard such legends as Joe Henderson, Art Blakey and Cedar Walton. Instead of attending her prom, she went to hear pianist Ahmad Jamal.

After high school graduation, she divided her time between the East Coast and California, before moving to San Francisco in the '80s. Sitting in on an African drumming class at the University of California, Berkeley, proved to be a turning point.

"There the doors flew open, learning how all these rhythmic patterns fit together, how they all have their place in making this hip groove. It opened a whole world to me," Cooling said. The light bulb went off.

"This is what I'm going to do with my life," she said.

Cooling had toyed with guitar, as well as keyboards, earlier in life. Her mother was a music teacher. After the drumming classes, as a birthday gift, a friend offered to fix her up with two lessons with any musician of her chosing. She selected sax great Joe Henderson, who was then living in the city. He has since passed away.

This was another mind-opening experience. "I was like a preemie baby of music. My head was stuffed with all these great sounds, but I didn't have the skills," she said. "I was nervous going for my lessons with him, but he was so cool. He told me it was my ears that mattered. He would play a line on his horn or piano and I'd play it back for him. He was very encouraging. I learned a lot."

Though Cooling now plays guitar with an incredible level of expression and dexterity, she believes she still has much to learn. "That's the nature of art and of anything deep. The wheel keeps turning," Cooling said.

"As people are born with music in their bone marrow, they're plugged into this continuum, and then they take it a little further. They take it as far as they can in their lifetime. There is no end in sight."