Vermont Magazine Winter 2020 | Page 38

S herman: I’m here with Nicole Nelson and Dwight Ritcher at Old Mill Road Recording in East Arlington, Vermont. Thanks so much for being here. Ladies first. Nicole, where were you born? And I was like, “This is some powerful stuff.” You know, you sing and you dance and all the different people are like, “Wow, that’s beautiful.” And they get along—at least until the song was over. Nelson: I was born in Brooklyn, New York. I miss that Brooklyn. It’s gone now. Sherman: That’s a good three minutes. Sherman: What did you love about it? Nelson: It’s hard to put into words really. I felt really connected to the land and to an aspect of the people that wasn’t necessarily the outward appearance but this, like, soul feeling. When I was a kid, I used to try to put my finger on what it was. It felt like it was coming out of the sidewalk. It was just this energy of the immigrants com- ing to New York and, you know, making it. Like the feeling of, “I’m going to take everything that I have and put it into this dream—and we’re going to make it!” Sherman: The pulse of ambition. Nelson: I think so, yeah, mixed with something more sparkly. Something about making a big, evolutionary leap. You know, not just financial or fame, but this dream of something bigger. Sherman: But you moved to Staten Island and then to Upstate New York, correct? Nelson: My grandparents had property in the Catskills, and my parents moved to Monroe, New York. So, I went to high school in Monroe. Very good school. A little bit lacking in cultural training. Being a bi-racial person from Brooklyn, I started all these cultural groups when I was there. Sherman: So, let’s talk about that. How has being bi-racial influenced you as an artist and as a human being? Nelson: Oh, man. Again, hard to put into words. Since I was a kid, I felt this respon- sibility to be a bridge for people that were, maybe, I don’t want to say small-minded, but maybe not as open-minded as they probably could be. In the end, really, love, kindness, grace, those are the things that matter. And so I think being like a cute lit- tle kid—who was fairly talented—I would put on song and dance shows for my fami- ly, and everybody would come together. 36 VERMONT MAGAZINE Nelson: Maybe that three minutes could turn into something else over time, you know? Sherman: Three minutes can turn into 30 and then … 300! Nelson: That’s right. Yes! Sherman: Music really can unite people. [A noise is heard in the background]. I just heard some clinking of your jewelry. Tell me about it. Nelson: Well, I do make jewelry. It started out as a [personal] need to wear certain stones. I started to get really sensitive, spe- cifically to quartz. When I was in my 20s, I started being, like, “I think I need that on stage with me.” I’m a hyper-sensitive per- son, and I would just feel like, “I want this citrine in my pocket.” So, I thought, “May- be I need to get a little baggie and wrap it with wax thread and wear it under my clothes or something,” because I was stick- ing stones in my bra and they‘d fall out on stage. It really wasn’t the best situation. A family member brought me all of this stuff, like crafting wire and she was like, “Let’s wrap them and make jewelry.” And it turned out, I was really good at it. The first stone I ever wore, I sold after the show to a woman who offered me a crazy amount of money for this hunk of pyrite wrapped in brass wire. And I was like, “This is maybe a thing.” [Showing her jewelry] Right now, this was a gift from my friend, Kristen. I didn’t make it. Ritcher: The gift from Kristen—she uses it all the time as a percussion instrument. Nelson: A little tambourine. Ritcher: Arm cymbals Nelson: It’s pretty loud. I could take it off, if it’s - Sherman: No. No problem. I just want our listeners to know what the jangle is. So, let’s go back. Nicole, are either of your parents musical? Nelson: My mom’s very musical. She played piano in the house and was always singing and dancing in the house. She went to F.I.T. and was very talented with fabric and design. That was her main thing. And my dad was a big lover of mu- sic. They would go on dates at jazz clubs in New York, seeing, like, Dizzy Gillespie play. It was one of the only things that they got along about—the love of music—al- though neither of them really got into the craft of it. I just had it around the house. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t play piano. Sherman: And when did you discover you had a voice? Nelson: I started singing before I started speaking. That’s what my parents always said. We’d be in a car and they’d have tunes on and I would start singing along with Ella Fitzgerald and be kind of good for a toddler. They were like, “She’s singing!” And then I would remember songs! Some- times I didn’t know what I was saying, but I would form the sounds and get the pitch right. So my parents were like, “She’s got some talent,” which saved me in later years. Sherman: When your parents discovered that you had talent, what did they do with it? What did you do with it? Nelson: Oh, good question. My dad said, “Oh, that’s cool. She can sing.” And my mom was like, “She’s brilliant. We need to get her lessons. She needs to study opera” (because I was singing fake operas around the house and making up these big song and dance numbers). And my dad would be like, “We can’t afford that. You’re crazy. That’s nuts. No.” And my mom would do it anyway. And then they would fight about it. And I’d be like, “Wow, I’m causing all these problems. Maybe if I put on a little number for them, they’ll be okay?” And so I started using my talent to kind of try to bridge the gaps between them. And per- haps that’s not the healthiest thing in the world. But for me, personally, it became very healthy because as things got more difficult at home, music was a way for me to express myself in a healthy way. And