Gail Pettis photo courtesy of the artist
Earshot Jazz is proud to share brief excerpts from the forthcoming book After the Bottle Clubs Closed: Seattle Jazz in the Modern Era w.t. (History Press of Charleston, S.C.) by Seattle’s preeminent jazz writer, Paul de Barros, and Seattle-based music journalist Alexa Peters. Picking up where Jackson Street After Hours: The Roots of Jazz in Seattle (Sasquatch Books, 1993) left off, the new book will feature fascinating interviews with the familiar artists and under-sung heroes who shape this vibrant jazz scene.
BY ALEXA PETERS
Two-time winner of Earshot Jazz Golden Ear Award “Northwest Vocalist of the Year,” Gail Pettis was born in Kentucky and raised in Gary, Indiana. Shortly after moving to Seattle in 1996 to establish her own orthodontics practice, Pettis, who’d played French horn in high school, began nurturing a new passion for jazz vocals in her early forties, after taking a jazz workshop taught by Seattle saxophonist Darren Motamedy. In 2006, Pettis sold her orthodontic practice and began making music full-time. With two records to her name, Pettis won the Seattle-Kobe Female Jazz Vocalist Competition in 2006, served as an artist-in-residence at Amherst Jazz Festival the same year, and has performed with Gene Harris, New Manhattan Big Band, and Eddie Conard.
Below are edited excerpts from an April 2024 interview with Pettis at a coffee shop in the Seattle area.
I had a background in swing dance and then I had an injury, and I was looking for something that still had a connection to jazz.
Around that time, I happened to see Dee Daniels and Kevin Mahogany adjudicating some vocal jazz groups from local high schools and colleges, when the Experience Music Project used to have a series called “Jazz in January.”
I wanted the opportunity to be adjudicated, too, but a lot of times when people come to jazz late in life, the programs are designed for 18 to 22 and they’re restricted by age. At that time, I thought, ‘but despite my age, I’m new to the profession and I feel like I’m at the skill level of a beginner or a high school student or somebody who’s just starting jazz.’
When Kevin was adjudicating at Jazz in January, I went up to him and said, “I’m a beginning singer; I tried to sign up because I would’ve loved to get some input on my singing.” And I remember he said I could send him something to listen to. I sent it and I heard right back. He wrote me a long, encouraging letter, and I wish I still had it now. It was instrumental for me.
Later, during that same Jazz in January, I saw Dee Daniels do a vocal workshop. She opened the session by singing “Autumn Leaves” and followed that with a discussion about her approach and the reason behind her music. What I took away from what she said was that she saw herself as a conduit; an open vessel to let whatever people need come through her, through the music.
Afterwards, I contacted Dee and I was like, “I want to sing. I heard you do a one hour demo at the Jazz in January, and I like what you do and the idea of jazz.” Then, I got my little car and I drove up to North Vancouver because she was living up there at that time. I’ll never forget, she said, “Do you want a cup of tea?” We looked out her window, and she told me about her daughter and living in Vancouver, and she sat down on the sofa. I could almost cry when I think of this because it was just like the most welcoming thing. There was, like, invitation and confirmation all in just this one sentence: She sat down and she said, “Well, what can I do for you, Ms. Gail?”
It was just like a hug. I’ve never forgotten that. Recently, at a tribute to Ernestine Anderson, she was the guest, and when I saw her behind stage, I just broke down because the limited contact that we had was so positive and so significant.
