The Catalyst interview: Pink Martini’s China Forbes

An immaculately dressed, 12-member band from Portland, Oregon, Pink Martini plays a combination of jazz, pop and world music, with a focus on the “elegant” cocktail culture of the 1950s and ‘60s.

The group will perform Tuesday (Jan. 14) in Ferguson Hall, at the Straz Center for the Performing Arts in Tampa. Find tickets at this link.

Formed in the early ‘90s by pianist, composer and arranger Thomas Lauderdale, Pink Martini has a robust life on the road, performing in countries around the world – the band’s repertoire includes songs in dozens of languages and dialects.

China Forbes is the main vocalist, and onstage focal point, for Pink Martini. She and Lauderdale attended Harvard University at the same time, and remained friends.

We’ll let her pick up the story from there.

St. Pete Catalyst: What do you think the appeal of Pink Martini is, nationally and internationally?

China Forbes: It’s definitely founded on a nostalgic style of music. When the band first started, it was a lot of cocktail music. In the early, mid ‘90s. For those of us who like to go to vintage and antique malls, and are nostalgic for the past, this music really touched our hearts. And I think people appreciated the large ensemble of real musicians playing real instruments! And they were all such accomplished musicians from classical and jazz backgrounds.

So I think the authenticity of it – you could see it and touch it and it was real, and it was nostalgic and made us yearn for the past. But also it had an inclusivity that was modern. I think all of that together made it unlike any other band.

You were in the theater program at Harvard?

Yes, I was in musicals and plays. That was really more of my education than what I majored in, which was English Literature. I did start out doing theater when I first graduated from Harvard. I went to New York, I got my Equity card, I did theater there for about three years. And it was fun, but it really made me realize that I didn’t want to do that for my whole life. I couldn’t see myself doing it when I was 50.

Music was always the common denominator. I was already a songwriter, and playing guitar and doing little gigs around New York as a sort of folk/rock artist. Then I realized “I don’t want to do the theater; I just want to do music.”

How did Thomas convince you to join his little orchestra out in Oregon?

We were friends from Harvard. I had not been in touch with him for three years, since we had graduated, when he called me in New York and he was panicking because he didn’t have a singer but he had arranged some very big gigs for his band that he had started. He really needed someone to come sing, and he thought of me, because we worked together in college, in musical theater and on music in general.

So he asked me to come, but I didn’t want to go all the way to Portland and do this. It was not what I had in mind, and I was doing my own gigs – but he said “How about if I pay you this much?” And I was 25, so of course at a certain point I was like “I’ll take it.” And I went.

And you never went back!

Mentally, I never went back. I did go back to New York and I didn’t move to Portland until 1998, which was three years later. So I did a lot of back and forth.

How did he explain to you what he was doing – sophisticated, nostalgic and very well-executed music? And some songs in other languages?

Well, when I got involved it was still really new and they hadn’t traveled at all. It was really raw. And it wasn’t as defined. When he sent me some cassettes of their live shows that they had done, it made perfect sense – that’s who Thomas is. He had a vintage suitcase and a vintage Polaroid camera, and vintage everything. He lived in that world from the beginning, and so this was a natural outcome of who he is.

So it didn’t surprise me at all, but it was a completely different style of music from what I was doing, because I was writing all my own songs. But it was fun, because I had this theater background, so it was like “OK, I can play this character and do this for a while.” I starting doing it in that way, but over the years that character became kind of who I am. I guess I became the character.

You sing in a lot of different languages. Do you speak them too, or is it ABBA-like phonetic singing?

I’ve sung in 30 languages. I do not speak them all; I speak French, and I studied Italian and lived in Italy for a summer. But that’s it, English, Italian and French. And Spanish is something I’ve been so immersed in, hearing Spanish, that I understand a lot of it. But I can’t really talk much.

So you’re singing in Mandarin, or Japanese. Do you know what the words mean?

I know what the gist of the song is. But when it’s a language you have no frame of reference for, it’s like little puzzle pieces that are pretty meaningless. But you know it’s a sad song, and you know what you’re generally saying.

I think one unifying trait of our audiences is that they are open and they’re appreciative that we make the effort to sing in all these languages, and maybe their language, too. Even if it’s not perfect, people are really grateful that you tried to sing in their language. And did your best. That took a lot of the pressure off, for me, early on.

I loved when in Paris they all said to me “Oooh, your French is getting too good! Don’t get any better – you’ll lose your cute accent!”

Speaking of characters, your singer/songwriter music has a vastly different character from that of Pink Martini. Does it almost seem as if you’re living a double life?

It does kind of feel like that. Because with Pink Martini I wear gowns, and I put jewels on and I come out and I’m elegant onstage. That’s my way in Pink Martini. And then, with my own music it’s like I take off the gown and put on a schmatta – a cool schmatta. A nice schmatta.*

I sit at the piano, or play the guitar, and it’s like my heart and soul. And it’s my personal stories. And that’s a very different experience for me as a performer. And it’s fun to do both – I like playing the role of the elegant diva next door, but then I’m also just me.

*Schmatta: A Yiddish word for a frumpy garment; a housedress.