Interview with Shana Cleveland

 

(This feature first appeared in issue #137 of Shindig! magazine. For the full unpublished interview click over the jump below.)

 

The creation of Shana Cleveland's new album was bookended by life-changing experiences. “It's been a wild ride” she tells Duncan Fletcher

“I was into old blues pickers like Geeshie Wiley, Skip James and Lightnin' Hopkins. I’ve always been a big Fahey fan. There’s a guy who played open mics in Seattle when I lived there named Rick Sabo. I never knew when he would show up, but I would go to places I thought he might and wait. Then when he did stumble in, always in an old trench coat and a bit drunk, and he began playing it felt like I had won the night.” So says Shana Cleveland when asked about early influences. Traces of all these players can be heard on Shana's new album Manzanita, but its dominant shaping forces are her life experiences.

“I wrote all the songs on this album while I was pregnant and in the early months of my son’s life. It was such a psychedelic time! My head was in such a weird place, all flooded with hormones and wonder at the mystery of life. I liked where the songs were going so, I figured it would be cool to see what a whole album written in that surreal state would sound like.” With her husband Will and several musician friends from Seattle, Shana recorded Manzanita in less than a week. The unrehearsed, intuitive arrangements blend with Shana's open-tuned guitar to give the songs an otherworldly watercolour-like quality. It reveals a different side to Shana, who readers may know as vocalist/guitarist in surf band La Luz.

Shortly after completing the album Shana received shock news. “It’s been a wild ride. Around this time last year, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and for a few months following that shocker I really couldn’t create much of anything” she says. Thankfully her treatment proved successful. “This album was done before I got the diagnosis, but I’ve written two albums since then. The intensity and horror of that time led to a lot of contemplation which, in turn, led to a lot of songs.”

While we wait to hear those songs, Manzanita yields an abundance of riches, all imbued with early parenthood's peculiar sense of wonder, and an appreciation of the natural world, inspired in part by Shana and Will moving to rural California. “I write outside most of the time” she says. “I like being immersed in all the little noises - insects, birds, cars, wind, chainsaws ... I feel like I’m able to tap into my subconscious mind without the judgment I might fall into if I was alone with my thoughts in a quiet room. It feels like a collaboration in a way.”

Manzanita is out on March 10 on Hardly Art

 

The last couple of years have been eventful for you outside of music. How did you manage to maintain a commitment to creativity?

It’s been a wild ride. Around this time last year, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and for a few months following that shocker I really couldn’t create much of anything. This album was done before I got the diagnosis, but I’ve written two albums since then. The intensity and horror of that time led to a lot of contemplation which, in turn, led to a lot of songs.

On first listen the arrangements seem quite sparse, but each listen reveals more subtle instrumentation. How long did the album take to make and was there much rehearsing with the musicians before you started recording?

I wrote all the songs on this album while I was pregnant and in the early months of my son’s life. It was such a psychedelic time! My head was in such a weird place, all flooded with hormones and wonder at the mystery of life. I liked where the songs were going so, I figured it would be cool to see what a whole album written in that surreal state would sound like. When it came time to record the songs, I called up a bunch of musicians in Seattle that I’ve known for decades because I knew they would intuitively understand where I was coming from since we had known each other for so long. Will (my partner who plays all the keyed instruments on the record) and I practiced at home but with the other musicians we didn’t practice at all. We just went in there and threw ideas around and let it come out how it was going to come out. We recorded everything in a little short of a week.

At the heart of each song is your intricate guitar playing. Who were your main musical inspirations when you first started to play?

I was into old blues pickers like Geeshi Wiley, Skip James and Lightnin Hopkins. I’ve always been a big Fahey fan. There’s a guy who played open mics in my neighbourhood in Seattle when I lived there named Ric Sabo. I never knew when he would show up, but I would go to places I thought he might and wait patiently, then when he did stumble in - always in an old trench coat and always a bit drunk―and he began playing guitar it felt like I had won the night. He had a handful of original guitar tunes that were perfect, and he played the same songs every time. He released a couple 7”s that I expect might be hard to find but worth the hunt. But you know, honestly my biggest inspiration for this kind of playing is just open tunings. I love open tunings on acoustic guitar.

I’m particularly enjoying ‘Quick Winter Sun’ and ‘Mystic Mine’ at the moment, but are there any songs on the album that you’re particularly proud of?

'Quick Winter Sun' is probably my favourite one to play on guitar, something about the descending melody is fun. It changes all the time, but I think the song I’m most proud of is ‘Walking Through Morning Dew’, that song sort of feels like the thesis of the album.

Could you expand on the story behind ‘Ten Hour Drive Through West Coast Disaster’?

Will and I were driving back home from Seattle with our son after recording the record. It was Summer, and peak wildfire season in California. We passed giant fires that we could see from the freeway, and nightmarish factory cattle farms with acres and acres of cows standing shoulder to shoulder on barren black earth. I was thinking about how wild it was to have a baby and bring a new human into this hellscape and hoping that he would be able to find enough beauty here to make it worthwhile, and I wrote these thoughts into a poem when we got home. Later I heard Will playing a melody on a Moog and I thought it was beautiful and I could imagine someone talking on top of the melody, so we recorded that at home and added it to the record.

‘Mayonnaise’ was inspired by writer Richard Brautigan. How did you first become aware of his work and what made you want to write a song in his honour?

My parents were both hippies when they were young, and my mom had some Brautigan books on her shelf when I was growing up. The first book I read was In Watermelon Sugar and I loved it so much that I read everything I could find of his after that. His books and poems were really formative for me since I got into them so young, and they are probably a big reason I ended up in California. I won’t say I love all his books, but the ones I do love are my very favourite books. Nobody writes like Brautigan. There’s a sweet strangeness to his work that feels like home to me. This song is the most direct tribute to him, but I’ve written other songs inspired by him for La Luz albums, ‘Oranges’ and ‘You Disappear’ are two of those.

The move to rural California seems to have inspired much of the album. What was it about the area that attracted you?

Well, we originally wanted to buy a house in Los Angeles, where we were living at the time. But we started looking around and realized the only places we could afford were dilapidated cliffside cottages where you could easily imagine some gruesome crime taking place--Murder Shacks as we came to call them. And honestly, we couldn’t even really afford those! So, we started looking around at some smaller towns we were aware of. Will’s grandpa used to live in Grass Valley, and we thought it was beautiful there. So, we started looking at listings and quickly got excited about the idea of being outside of a city for a change. As touring musicians we’re both in cities all the time anyway so it’s good to have our home feel apart from that.

The natural world is another constant theme throughout the record. Is it true that you only ever write while outside?

I write outside most of the time, maybe 80% of the time. It’s a way of getting out of my head a bit and letting the outside world in. I like being immersed in all the little noises of the outside: insects, birds, cars, wind, chainsaws. I like seeing the wind move leaves around, watching a bug walk across the patio with an elongated shadow from the late-day sun. When I play guitar outside, I feel like I’m able to tap into my subconscious mind without the judgment I might fall into if I was alone with my thoughts in a quiet room. It feels like a collaboration in a way.

Your solo work represents a different side of you when compared to the music you make with La Luz. How does writing songs for your solo records differ from when you write songs for the band?

I think the songs I write for solo records are more introspective. I don’t think as much about who the listener might be. But the big difference is just the vehicle I take to get there. I generally start with electric guitar for La Luz, and I use a guitar pick, which might sound like a subtlety but I think makes a big difference! Whereas for my solo music I always write on acoustic guitar and I’m usually fingerpicking, often in an open tuning. I have a phrase I tell myself: Open tuning, open mind.