Deborah Smith is a recent graduate of Temple University's Boyer College of Music and Dance, and already making her mark on the scene. I recall seeing her at the Exit Zero Jazz Festival, where I was impressed by her skill and professionalism. She brought such energy and light to her playing, which reminded me that the trombone is an instrument we need to hear more. Deborah ("deh-BOW-ra") is making sure we do.
While she wasn't born in Philadelphia, Deborah and her music have already become a dedicated part of the community here, making her an easy selection for our series Philly Made. Read on for an edited transcript of our conversation, and don’t miss the three selections she performed in our studio, leading a quartet with João Bueno on piano, Ry Miller on bass and Justin Bowden on drums.
You’re originally from Bridgeport, Connecticut. Talk to me about music and growing up there.
It reminds me of Philly in many ways, with a lot of underserved communities. I grew up in a music program that wasn’t heavily supported. There weren’t many people who played jazz, or even played instruments, where I’m from. I picked up the trombone in seventh grade. I started on clarinet first, and my band teacher told me, “You need to stop that now. You’re no good at that.” I was one of the very few trombone players in my band class, and I was the only one who stuck with it through middle school. In high school I was still kind of the only trombone player I knew. Music wasn’t prevalent among people my age.
Luckily I had programs like BackCountry Jazz and one called Keys that let me pursue jazz outside of school. Through them, I got to work with Benny Wallace and Godwin Louis, and I met Steve Davis. There were only a few of us, but we all connected on this thing that was jazz. We were very few, but we were all in it together. Bridgeport was very non-music focused, and violence was prevalent, very similar to Philly. But I made it through. I still love Bridgeport to this day. Whenever I go home, it’s nice to remember that these are my stomping grounds.
Your foundation.
Exactly. And one thing we connected on is that we’re both Jamaican.
It’s funny, because when I was talking to you, I was like, “She reminds me of my cousin Janelle,” before I even knew we had that background. So what was music like in your home growing up in Bridgeport?
My parents didn’t really listen to jazz. They listened to a lot of gospel and reggae. They were very religious, so I grew up hearing that music in church. Reggae was everywhere too, rocksteady and all of that, at barbecues and in the house. You wake up on a weekend and your parents are cleaning, and they have the radio on. My parents didn’t really listen to jazz. They listened to a lot of gospel and reggae. They were very religious, so I grew up hearing that music in church. Reggae was everywhere, too — rocksteady and all of that, at barbecues and in the house. You wake up on a weekend and your parents are cleaning, and they have the radio on.
Do you remember the first time you heard a trombone that you didn’t play?
Actually, no. Going back to when my teacher told me to choose another instrument, he gave me a list. No pictures, no videos, nothing. Just a list of instruments. I chose the trombone, and I had no idea what it looked like or sounded like. When I played it for the first time, that was when I started identifying it. I could tell piano, trumpet and drums, but I wasn’t really into the instruments themselves. I was into music. Gospel and reggae were both core to who I am, but in middle and high school I started exploring so much more. I started meeting people outside Bridgeport who played music too, and I got into indie, folk, pop and of course rap. I know a lot of rap and trap music, which a lot of people don’t know about me. I enjoy listening to music, not just jazz. I think everything is connected.
What was your first introduction to Philadelphia?
I didn’t know much about Philly except that the arts are extremely prevalent here. I didn’t start learning about the city until I had to apply for schools. I applied to five, and Temple was one of them. When I stepped foot in Philadelphia for my tour, it was a rainy day. Everything was gross, there was traffic, and we got there late. But I knew as soon as I got here that I wanted to be here for a while.
I didn’t get to explore the jazz clubs or the venues that day, but the energy of the city was something I felt right away. I knew I would leave here inspired, or stay here inspired, and that I would meet people who shared my interests. That’s also what drew me to Temple: the faculty, the program, and seeing how many like-minded people were out there. I was meeting Temple people through social media, and so many of them said, “This place is awesome.” Doing research, I saw how much the arts here are appreciated. I had to be here.
You mentioned mentors. Who did you work with here in Philadelphia?
At Temple I studied with my first trombone teacher, Joe McDonough, and then with Rob Edwards. I studied with both of them for two years. They helped me so much, because I’d never had consistent trombone lessons until I got to Temple. I had never played in a big band, and I had never studied privately that consistently. They helped me see the trombone in a different light. They helped me find the inner workings of the instrument. For a long time I was having a hard time connecting my ideas to the instrument itself, and having that guidance is something I really appreciated. It’s a lifelong thing to figure out, and those two were very influential for me.
I also got to study big band with Dan Monahan and Steve Fiddick. I took small ensembles with Elio Villafranca and Vicente Archer, and of course Mark Patterson. Even if I didn’t take a class with someone, or didn’t have an ensemble with them, I gained so much from one conversation with a lot of faculty there. I had a class with Tim Warfield and learned so much from him.
Justin Faulkner is a big one. He had drum workshops that I would pop into. At first I was intimidated, because I was a sophomore and everyone seemed so good. But he was so encouraging that entire session, and I think he helped me get over a hurdle of dimming my own voice. One of the tunes we played here today, “Bloom,” he was one of its biggest supporters. In my ensemble at Temple, we had an assignment to bring in original compositions, and it was the first time I had ever shown anybody my original stuff. It was scary. He does lessons in the room right next to ours. During the ensemble, he came out of his lesson and said, “What was that tune you guys were just playing? That was killing.” I said, “That was mine.” He said, “You have to record that. You gotta put that out there, because that tune is you.” That stuck with me, and it still does every time I play that tune. Just remembering to be myself in everything I do really stuck with me.
You said, “Be yourself in everything you do,” and I feel like that’s a Philly statement. How has Philadelphia led you to be the educator and musician you are today?
I believe that coming from a place where I didn’t have much musically, but still having that drive, has shaped me. I know there are so many kids out there who have that desire and want to take it somewhere, but they may not know where to go. That’s my biggest motivator: to be the person who can tell them, “There are so many avenues, and I will support you in any avenue you choose.” The moment with Justin Faulkner stays with me, and so do the mentors I had in high school, like Benny Wallace and Godwin Louis. I take something from all of them, many things, and I apply that to the students I encounter.
I also bring in the life I’ve lived. Life outside of music helps with teaching, whether it’s music or anything else. You have to experience life in order to play good music, and to appreciate music in a way, whether that’s your instrument, listening, anything. I want to be the person who reminds these students that there’s life coming out of this, and that they’re creating life. That is my biggest motivator: being the person who helps these kids, inspires them, and reminds them.
That reminds me of John Coltrane, who was very big on tying life to the music. We’re celebrating his centennial this year. How has he influenced you?
John Coltrane was one of the first tenor players I listened to. I remember his recording with Duke Ellington, “In a Sentimental Mood.” It was one of the first times I heard a recording that evoked an indescribable feeling.
That’s Coltrane, Duke Ellington. “Let’s be honest.”
Exactly. Coltrane was the first person to evoke a feeling like that in me. Happiness, sadness, excitement, anger. Whenever I’m really getting into a song, or playing music, I always have Coltrane somewhere in my mind. He always went for it. He never held back, and I’ve always drawn inspiration from that. That recording in particular, I fell asleep to every night in high school. I’d put on playlists and albums, and I’d loop that one every single night.
What was one of your earliest memorable Philly jazz experiences, outside of coming to Temple?
My first memorable Philly jazz experience was going to South for the first time. It was my first month at Temple, and a lot of Temple freshmen have that experience. It’s like, “Wow, this is fancy, and we’re going to see some good music.” I saw Immanuel Wilkins and his quartet. For the entire summer before Temple, I was obsessed with his album Omega. I thought, “I need to see Immanuel Wilkins live.” I didn’t know he was also from Philly. I went with my roommate, who was a classical performance major. We both saw it, and I left thinking, “Wow, that was amazing.” It was another one of those indescribable feelings. It was going to take me to another level, mentally, in how I view the music and how I play it, because everything was so intentional that night. I’ll never forget that performance. It was my first show ever in Philly.
How did your classical roommate like it?
She loved it. Her grandfather grew up playing jazz violin, so she kind of knows her little thing too.
If someone is visiting for the first time, where do you send them to get the feeling of Philadelphia?
As basic as it sounds, I feel like walking through Center City. I do a lot of walking. I don’t have a car, and I don’t have my license yet, which I’m going to get. I walk more than I should, and I’ve seen parts of Philly I didn’t even intend to. I always find my way to Center City. When I’m coming home from Bridgeport, or back from New York, as soon as I hit Center City, there’s a breath. Whether it’s super hectic or there’s nobody out, I think, “Okay, this is Philadelphia for you.” I can walk to Chris’ Jazz Cafe. I can walk to SOUTH Restaurant & Jazz Club, which isn’t really Center City, but it’s the mecca, the middle of everything. Visit Love Park, visit Dilworth Park, and just be in the city. Everything’s happening there, and that’s where everybody is when they come to visit.
What’s a record by a Philadelphia artist that everyone should check out, living or not?
I’ll say Omega by Immanuel Wilkins. I believe it was one of the first records he put out, but it was one of the first times I felt that whatever modern jazz is, whatever today’s jazz is, was beautifully captured on an album. I think every composition was made beautifully, and he plays so beautifully and uniquely. Everybody should check that out. As a budding musician, you should listen to the greats, and please do. Our ancestors who have passed on too. I highly encourage that. But Immanuel Wilkins, Omega, I would definitely say check that out.
My last and final question: one word to describe Philly, and why that word?
Bold. I’ve met a lot of bold people. I’ve heard a lot of bold music, and seen a lot of bold art. Everything about this city, from the rain that falls to the sun that shines, to the streets we walk on, is bold. The murals we see walking the street. The best word I could use is that it’s a bold city. And it’s a beautiful city. Many things are happening around the city, and it’s just beautiful overall. There are so many people to find here, and so much life to live, because everybody is living for sure.
