biog
Photography by David Rose"Rachel was a major hit at the Wigan Jazz Club... each song was beautifully delivered with an originality that is rare in jazz today. A top quality performance by a very special vocalist." Ian Darrington, MBE, Wigan Jazz Club, May 2007
Rachel Brand, 22nd March 2007
Having graduated with an MMus from the Guildhall School of Music and Drama Jazz Postgraduate course Class of 2006 (no I can't quite believe it either) and moved from London to North Devon near to my beloved bench and the most perfect beach in the world, I think it's time for an update. I'm working on it and it will appear soon. Not only that, but new photos to boot with possible beachy tones and the windswept, freckly look. More soon, but I leave you with the original, how it all began...
Rachel Brand, 14th June 2005
Management consultant turned jazz singer via brain tumour. That's the last three years in a nutshell.
The preamble
All the usual early days stuff. I was born in Liverpool and lived in St. Helens for my formative years. Sang in the choir, played the piano but was always told off for looking at my hands, did a couple of numbers with the sixth form jazz band when I was 12 - quite a highlight. Not sure the sentimental reminiscences of Georgia on My Mind were written for someone of such tender years but I did my best.
Things continued in a largely sporty and academic vein with a bit of acting thrown in. I moved on from Rainford High School to Bath University via brain tumour no. 1, brain surgery and radio therapy. In Bath, I picked up a first class honours degree in Business Administration, a netballing half blue, a couple of juicy acting roles in Arthur Miller and Willy Russell plays and a clapped out Ford Escort Mk II (affectionately known as Dessy - after Desert Orchid, of course). Another flirtation with jazz took place in my final year, singing with 'So What!' at a 1930s themed fundraiser, The Prohibition Ball. This was in the guise of 'Minnie and her Moochers'. As I recall, the only time the word 'mini' has ever been used when referring to me.
Unleashed on the world at large - and London in particular - in 1990, several uneventful years passed in various business roles punctuated by the occasional not insignificant health issue. I had major jaw surgery in 1992 - aftermath of my first brain tumour - and a heart operation in 1995. This freed me up for a year of travel and 1996 was spent circumnavigating the globe, a significant and splendid chunk in Melbourne, Australia.
With no definite plans back in the UK, I managed with a strangely fateful calm to land a great job with a major management consultancy. Four years passed - hard work, good fun and regularly offering organisations the benefit of my advice, but still no jazz.
The important jazz bit
In 2001, I was diagnosed with my second brain tumour. Rather unfair to have two I thought? After gamma knife radiation treatment, my company generously let me take a year out from my role as a Senior Management Consultant. In August 2002, shortly before I was due to return to work, I decided on a whim to revisit my jazz inklings from school and university a mere 13 years before. I put 'jazz workshop' in to google and it spat out that the Fionna Duncan Vocal Jazz Workshop was about to take place in Edinburgh. I rang every day for a week to see if anyone had cancelled from the fully booked course. The day before the course was due to start, someone did - I was in. It pretty much changed my life.
It was a fantastic experience, learning from Fionna Duncan, Sheila Jordan, Sophie Bancroft, Brian Kellock and upon my return to Fionna's workshop in 2003, with Mark Murphy - how could I not be hooked? I came back to London and carried on learning in the evenings after work at the City Lit in London with Carol Grimes, in workshops and one to one with Anita Wardell and with the titanic trio of Liane Carroll, Simon Purcell and Martin Speake at the Mediterranean Jazz Summer School in France. I also set about jazz theory with Sara Dhillon at Morley College and jazz piano with Guildhall graduate Karim Merchant. In September 2003, I recorded my first demo, A Swingin' Cat, with Steve Lodder (piano), Andy Hamill (bass) and Mike Bradley (drums) at The Premises studios in Hackney. Just brilliant.
Since then, I've sung at many open mics around London, gigged at The Spice of Life with Pete Churchill and was invited by Liane Carroll to sing on her final night headlining at Ronnie Scotts in September 2004. I also gained a place on the Jazz Postgraduate Course at The Guildhall to start in September 2004. But in July 2004, it was discovered that my brain tumour had continued to grow. I was told that I would need an operation to remove it. That meant surgery in October 2004, more gamma knife radiation in December and no Guildhall.
Jazz has helped me get through. I was pretty low for a while, but it was returning once again to Scotland to a weekend workshop at the end of January 2005 that reminded me why it was worth looking ahead. Who with? I was in the safe, warm, supportive company of the inspirational and generous Fionna Duncan and the insightful and encouraging Sophie Bancroft of course. And there are so many things that just keep me hooked. Finding another incredible tune that I can't wait to learn; feeling the words of a new song finally trip off the tongue; transcribing my first song; discovering that the fabulous sound you've been trying to track down is made by an ocean drum; buying an ocean drum; being part of a band that you only ever thought you would get to sit and listen to; and applause. I'm not proud.
Even though I've been left with very poor vision, one permanently closed eye and hence a rather lopsided face and a somewhat wary regard for trips to the hospital, I'm excited about what's happening now and what's to come. I'm due to start on the Guildhall Jazz Postgraduate course in September 2005. I've got two nights at the Glasgow Jazz Fringe Festival in June, was featured in The Times in January, The Glasgow Herald in February and have just had a fantastic re-launch gig at The Progress Bar with Pete Churchill (piano), Dave Wickens (drums) and Simon Thorpe (bass). And did I mention I just bought an ocean drum?
It's funny, I get a very different reaction these days when I meet people for the first time and they ask me what I do. People pull a funny (that's funny peculiar) face when you tell them you're a management consultant. Now? "I'm a jazz singer" I tell them, and people smile. There are worse ways to pass the time of day.
The preamble
All the usual early days stuff. I was born in Liverpool and lived in St. Helens for my formative years. Sang in the choir, played the piano but was always told off for looking at my hands, did a couple of numbers with the sixth form jazz band when I was 12 - quite a highlight. Not sure the sentimental reminiscences of Georgia on My Mind were written for someone of such tender years but I did my best.
Things continued in a largely sporty and academic vein with a bit of acting thrown in. I moved on from Rainford High School to Bath University via brain tumour no. 1, brain surgery and radio therapy. In Bath, I picked up a first class honours degree in Business Administration, a netballing half blue, a couple of juicy acting roles in Arthur Miller and Willy Russell plays and a clapped out Ford Escort Mk II (affectionately known as Dessy - after Desert Orchid, of course). Another flirtation with jazz took place in my final year, singing with 'So What!' at a 1930s themed fundraiser, The Prohibition Ball. This was in the guise of 'Minnie and her Moochers'. As I recall, the only time the word 'mini' has ever been used when referring to me.
Unleashed on the world at large - and London in particular - in 1990, several uneventful years passed in various business roles punctuated by the occasional not insignificant health issue. I had major jaw surgery in 1992 - aftermath of my first brain tumour - and a heart operation in 1995. This freed me up for a year of travel and 1996 was spent circumnavigating the globe, a significant and splendid chunk in Melbourne, Australia.
With no definite plans back in the UK, I managed with a strangely fateful calm to land a great job with a major management consultancy. Four years passed - hard work, good fun and regularly offering organisations the benefit of my advice, but still no jazz.
The important jazz bit
In 2001, I was diagnosed with my second brain tumour. Rather unfair to have two I thought? After gamma knife radiation treatment, my company generously let me take a year out from my role as a Senior Management Consultant. In August 2002, shortly before I was due to return to work, I decided on a whim to revisit my jazz inklings from school and university a mere 13 years before. I put 'jazz workshop' in to google and it spat out that the Fionna Duncan Vocal Jazz Workshop was about to take place in Edinburgh. I rang every day for a week to see if anyone had cancelled from the fully booked course. The day before the course was due to start, someone did - I was in. It pretty much changed my life.
It was a fantastic experience, learning from Fionna Duncan, Sheila Jordan, Sophie Bancroft, Brian Kellock and upon my return to Fionna's workshop in 2003, with Mark Murphy - how could I not be hooked? I came back to London and carried on learning in the evenings after work at the City Lit in London with Carol Grimes, in workshops and one to one with Anita Wardell and with the titanic trio of Liane Carroll, Simon Purcell and Martin Speake at the Mediterranean Jazz Summer School in France. I also set about jazz theory with Sara Dhillon at Morley College and jazz piano with Guildhall graduate Karim Merchant. In September 2003, I recorded my first demo, A Swingin' Cat, with Steve Lodder (piano), Andy Hamill (bass) and Mike Bradley (drums) at The Premises studios in Hackney. Just brilliant.
Since then, I've sung at many open mics around London, gigged at The Spice of Life with Pete Churchill and was invited by Liane Carroll to sing on her final night headlining at Ronnie Scotts in September 2004. I also gained a place on the Jazz Postgraduate Course at The Guildhall to start in September 2004. But in July 2004, it was discovered that my brain tumour had continued to grow. I was told that I would need an operation to remove it. That meant surgery in October 2004, more gamma knife radiation in December and no Guildhall.
Jazz has helped me get through. I was pretty low for a while, but it was returning once again to Scotland to a weekend workshop at the end of January 2005 that reminded me why it was worth looking ahead. Who with? I was in the safe, warm, supportive company of the inspirational and generous Fionna Duncan and the insightful and encouraging Sophie Bancroft of course. And there are so many things that just keep me hooked. Finding another incredible tune that I can't wait to learn; feeling the words of a new song finally trip off the tongue; transcribing my first song; discovering that the fabulous sound you've been trying to track down is made by an ocean drum; buying an ocean drum; being part of a band that you only ever thought you would get to sit and listen to; and applause. I'm not proud.
Even though I've been left with very poor vision, one permanently closed eye and hence a rather lopsided face and a somewhat wary regard for trips to the hospital, I'm excited about what's happening now and what's to come. I'm due to start on the Guildhall Jazz Postgraduate course in September 2005. I've got two nights at the Glasgow Jazz Fringe Festival in June, was featured in The Times in January, The Glasgow Herald in February and have just had a fantastic re-launch gig at The Progress Bar with Pete Churchill (piano), Dave Wickens (drums) and Simon Thorpe (bass). And did I mention I just bought an ocean drum?
It's funny, I get a very different reaction these days when I meet people for the first time and they ask me what I do. People pull a funny (that's funny peculiar) face when you tell them you're a management consultant. Now? "I'm a jazz singer" I tell them, and people smile. There are worse ways to pass the time of day.