One of my favorite Cole Porter songs is Every Time We Say Goodbye because the lyric that follows the title is “I die a little.” No doubt as The Manhattan Transfer faces their final two shows, singer Janis Siegel, who has been with the group for its entire 50-year run, knows that feeling.
Siegel and I spoke last week just before she left her home in New York to fly to the West Coast for the final four concerts. All that remains are shows on December 13th in San Diego and the final show on Friday, December 15th at Walt Disney Concert Hall. These will be emotional shows for the Siegel and her partners Cheryl Bentyne, Trist Curless and Alan Paul.
Bentyne joined in 1979 after original member Laurel Massé was injured in an automobile accident. Curless joined after founding member Tim Hauser passed away in 2014. But don’t think these concerts will be a memorial to their 50-year career. This is going to be a celebration. An emotional one, for sure, but a celebration nonetheless.
In my conversation with Siegel we spoke about her feelings going into the final four concerts. What follows are excerpts from our conversation that have been edited for length and clarity. To see the full interview, please go to our YouTube channel.
Q: Janis Siegel, we’re having this conversation the day before The Manhattan Transfer has the final four concerts before calling it a day after half a century. What are you feeling emotionally right now going into these final four shows?
I’m feeling all the feels. We’ve been on the road. But now as we’re coming up to the final four and especially Disney Hall, it’s definitely hitting me. In a way it’s like grief. It’s like mourning, which is not a straight line; it appears when you least expect it. Suddenly you’re crying or you’re angry or you’re joyful. It comes up in unexpected ways, but very, very mixed feelings. It’s very bittersweet. I’m excited about what’s to come for all of us.
Does part of that grief ultimately include a point where relief comes in as part of that? Is that something that you’re considering as part of your process?
If relief comes I would be very happy. In my own life, grief never really disappears. You adapt to something missing in your life: a person or an experience, a marriage or a death. You never really get over it. It’s always a part of you. It’s always a part of your heart.
Why do you think The Manhattan Transfer made it 50 years?
It was the music. It kept us together. I think we all, at certain points, realized that what we created together was worth working on. It’s been a marriage really for 50 years with different people.
How much do you think you’ll feel Tim’s presence on that stage at Walt Disney Concert Hall?
Very much. This was his vision. He changed my life, certainly. We celebrate him every time we step on the stage.
The Manhattan Transfer, as we more commonly know them [there was a previous iteration that made on album prior to this quartet] was introduced to the world in the 1975 album The Manhattan Transfer. The first song on that album was Tuxedo Junction. The last song on your most recent album, Fifty, is God Only Knows. How do these two songs reflect the musical journey you have been on with The Manhattan Transfer?
Tuxedo Junction was probably one of our first forays into vocalese because we’re singing the Glenn Miller arrangement. It’s very rudimentary and, you know, beginner like, but we’re trying to emulate the sound of the muted trombones.
God Only Knows was really championed by Cheryl, who feels, and I agree with her, that it’s one of the greatest pop songs ever written. And it’s very emotional, you know? We’re saying God Only Knows where we’d be without our audience and each other.
Vocalese (1985) happens to be my favorite Manhattan Transfer album. It feels really special. Is it equally special for you?
Yes, definitely special. I adored Jon Hendricks [of Lambert, Hendricks and Ross]. He was my musical father, for sure. A mentor. A friend. I worked very closely with him, especially during the Vocalese album, but even afterwards. I find lyrics that he left here all the time. I’m actually going to be recording some in January.
You’re not letting any moss grow under your feet, are you? You’re going right to it.
Yeah I am. If I’m married to anything it’s the music, certainly.
When you look at a vocalist like Marilyn May, who I would assume has to be a role model on a certain level for what anybody can do late in life…
Sheila Jordan, too.
Are these the type of careers you envision yourself having in this next chapter of the Janis Siegel story?
Absolutely. But also, I still want to travel. I want to spend a lot of time in Europe. That feels more like my home in a way, musically and culturally even. I don’t really like what’s going on here. I’m looking towards Europe. I love to eat. I love to cook. I’m considering maybe even going back to school. I’d like to embellish my life with some other things. But I would certainly look towards Sheila Jordan and Marilyn Maye as shining inspirations for what you can do.
Is there any one thing, or even two, that you’ve learned most during this five-decade journey?
I really believe I’ve learned how to collaborate. It’s not easy. In all our configurations, you’ve got four very different people and everybody’s got different creative ideas and prioritization. To be able to work through differences and work through anger or differences of opinion and not just throw a chair and walk out has been a real learning experience, I think, for all of us.
I’ve learned a lot also from solo work that I’ve done. You learn different ways to collaborate and different ways of working. I feel like it’s been very valuable because I’ve brought those different ways back into the group.
What do you want to say most with your music now as a solo artist moving forward that perhaps you haven’t been able to say previously?
I have done a lot of eclectic records as a soloist. I mean, I’ve explored country jazz. I’ve explored Yiddish music. I’ve done dual collaborations with Fred Hersch, you know, very intimate reconstructing of pop songs and jazz standards. I collaborate with many people in Brazil. I sing with a Latin big band now. When I go out into the world I’m going to still be doing all of these eclectic things. I love singing with the big band. I’ll be singing with the Count Basie Orchestra in February and collaborating with a lot of different people.
Nine years ago I spoke with Alan Paul and I asked him what the future was for The Manhattan Transfer at that time. He told me, “Come the new year, we’ll finally have a chance to really sit down and really try to figure out what we’re going to do.” Do you remember what those conversations were like in early 2015? Was there a point somewhere around there when you all realized the 50th anniversary might be the right time to hang it all up?
We didn’t think about that then. Tim died around that time. That threw everything into disarray. If Tim had stayed alive we would be in a totally different place, in a different direction, I think, because his input was strong and usually wonderful. So who knows what would have happened. We only started talking about the end, probably during the pandemic.
If you could go back in time when Tim Hauser would wear a Howdy Doody mask and you were in a diaper with high heels, at that point could you ever have dreamed this career that you have had?
No. And that’s what I mean. In the beginning Tim was the dreamer, but I was the practical worker bee. So I was just like, okay, what has to be done today? Who’s writing this arrangement? What’s happening here? I’d never expected this at all. I was on another path completely.
When did you allow yourself to dream?
You need time to dream. That’s the thing with creative people. I think you need alone time. My time to dream, honestly, is on the treadmill or in the shower. That’s when nobody can bug me. My body is busy doing stuff and my imagination runs free.
If you could go back in time and talk to the young girl who was part of [her first group] Young Generation or [a subsequent group] The Loved Ones, what advice would you give her that would be most important as a way of understanding who you are and where you are today?
When you’re in your 20s or when you’re a teenager, there’s certain insecurities, I think, that you have. I would just tell myself that all crises do pass. You don’t know that when you’re young. You think it’s the end of the world when this breakup happens or this doesn’t go the way you want it to go. But things happen, I think, for a reason and paths diverge and they come together. I mean, we’re getting into some heavy duty territory here with the idea of free will and what’s faded and what can you control in this life.
The other thing is you have to be good at saying goodbye.
Yes. I’ve had a lot of loss the past ten years or so. Oh, man, it’s hard. It’s really hard. But yet the world goes on spinning.
To see the complete interview with Janis Siegel, please go here.
Main Photo: Trist Curless, Janis Siegel, Cheryl Bentyne and Alan Paul of The Manhattan Transfer (Photo by Scott S. Schafer)