Meet Naomi Nakanishi | Brooklyn-based pianist, composer, improviser and educator

We had the good fortune of connecting with Naomi Nakanishi and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Naomi, where are your from? We’d love to hear about how your background has played a role in who you are today?
I’m from Las Vegas, NV — which usually creates one of two reactions: “VEGAS! You’re the first person I’ve met from there!” or “I have distant cousin that lives in Henderson, that’s Vegas right?”

My dad attended Berklee in the late 80s for trumpet and was a band director at the Las Vegas public schools for years, a second-generation Japanese American, and my mom is from South Korea who did a Hospitality Degree at UNLV (University of Nevada Las Vegas). They both met at my grandparents’ (Dad’s side) family restaurant – dad eventually took over the family business and they had me.

I started Suzuki method at the age of 5 and continued to learn classical repertoire throughout my life. Then picked up the clarinet in middle school which was fun. Did piano competitions, honor bands, all state bands, festivals, etc. so music was very much ingrained into my life since early on. My dad stepped away from music when I was born and I always thought the reason why I was thrown into lessons so quickly was so that he could live vicariously through me. All I’ve ever known was the piano. I didn’t really have any other hobbies growing up. I used to think that my childhood was somewhat “robbed” but eventually learned to appreciate all the summer jazz camps and memories that came with it. Some of my closest friends I met through these programs.

I went to a magnet arts high school in downtown Las Vegas that boasts itself of an award-winning jazz program. This intrigued me and having dabbled in middle school arrangements of “Gospel John” and Weather Report’s “Birdland” in jazz band, I auditioned for the school. There I learned how to play in big band and small group settings with additional help from some of Vegas’s finest jazz musicians at the time. We learned how to play “changes” and interact with others through comping and listening. I was one of very few girls in the program and often felt “invisible” amongst my peers….which only fueled my desire to “be the best” at the time. What I remember most is the stress and toxicity I felt from looming expectations of perfection and inappropriate comments on the bandstand – I wish it wasn’t that way. I once described my experience to a close friend of mine in college and she said “have you heard of the movie Whiplash?”

It was senior year of high school and I still wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do after graduation, which seems pretty normal right? Come fall of 2015 everyone seemed to have their school and major picked out and by spring already confirmed their acceptance. I visited one school (Eastman School of Music) before auditioning then ended up auditioning for two more (Frost School of Music and Berklee) before deciding on the one I visited. The intimacy of the small-er program intrigued me because I wanted a focused mentorship that validated my dreams and aspirations. Little did I know I’d have similar, if not worse experiences in undergrad.

I was one of five other women out of a program of sixty in the jazz department. It was an all male, white faculty, the complete opposite of what you’d want to see in a program teaching Black American music. The word ‘invisible’ seems too mild from how I felt going through that program of four years. It felt like climbing a ladder with no end, or if there was an end, there was always someone at the top extending the height – Glass Ceiling for jazz musicians. It seemed, however, there was an unspoken courtesy extended to white women that went through that program – you got to be the token “woman in jazz” of the program. I would not have finished out the program if it wasn’t for my private instructor. There were many lessons spent questioning whether or not my credibility as a musician was valid, or if this was something I wanted to continue pursuing after school. I decided to apply for an exclusive, free one-year master’s program at Berklee College of Music and to my surprise, was accepted! I couldn’t believe it, so much so that I sobbed hysterically (happy tears of course) when I opened the acceptance email. I knew I worked very hard for it and was most deserving, but there was always that tiny voice in the back of my head that felt undeserving, like it was a mistake or pity acceptance – I guess it’s called imposter syndrome?

That program changed the trajectory of my career and artistry in incredible ways. I got to work with peers that respected and valued my time and energy. I was seen as an equal collaborator and the teachers I studied with actually listened to me! It was the first time I had a private instructor who wasn’t a white man. There was a deep understanding and respect for the history of the music while encouraging contemporary ideas and experimentation, something I didn’t experience while in undergrad. It was also a time where I got properly diagnosed with ASD and severe depression, a process that taught me how to better advocate for myself in both social and professional situations. Mental health was a topic that was always dismissed/invalidated in the household so to have these peers and mentors nurture and hold safe spaces for me, it was very healing.

This convoluted journey of “self-discovery” and healing has created a newfound tenderness I hold for those in the arts. It is a BRUTAL field of constant rejection, uncertainty, and envy. Since moving to Brooklyn I have found communities void of these burdens and instead offer warmth and encouragement, something I’m still getting used to. It has taught me to be more empathetic, confident as a bandleader, and whimsical in my music-making.

Let’s talk shop? Tell us more about your career, what can you share with our community?
Unconventional is usually the word that comes to mind whenever I have to describe my art. I grew up learning how to play so much classical repertoire but never really listened to it. When I started learning Jazz, part of my studies was listening and transcribing records. If i’m truly honest with myself I don’t really listen to either as much anymore – call it a brief hiatus. I’ve been getting into a lot of Avant-Garde Jazz/Free Improvising in addition to the usual Alternative R&B and Indie Folk listens.

I’ve been playing with and writing music for a bass-less quartet with drums, keys, and two horns (usually tenor and alto sax). I also recently recorded some of music of mine with a new trio which I am immensely proud and most excited to share soon. We’re playing our “debut” show in May at this lovely venue in Queens called Julian’s. We jokingly called it “whimsical trio” or “whimsy trio” but it might actually be a serious name down the line….

To get to this point of creative expression, with less judgement on my part, took hours and hours of reflecting, experimenting, and re-writing. To get to where I am professionally today took years of trying and failing, lots of hard conversations and diligent practice. Some of that practice was really toxic actually. The idea of practicing 10 hours a day seemed necessary as a college student but by the end of senior year I was so burnt out both physically and mentally, resulting in countless hours of physical and psychotherapy.

I now understand the value of quality over quantity, cutting back my hours of practice into hyper-focused chunks. I’m still working on maintaining this mindset because social media can be a huge trigger, starting a downward spiral of “am I doing enough…..?” and comparing myself to peers.

The most important lesson I’ve learned through this process is to not center my identity around my career. It’s important to have hobbies and value boredom sometimes! Some of the most creative ideas come from things unrelated to music.

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.
I’d start with brunch at my crib because I can make a mean breakfast spread. I’ve also gotten really good at perfecting my coffee at home. Saves a lot $$ especially in a city that charges $8 for a latte. Then we’d go check out the Brooklyn museum and see Judy Chicago’s Dinner Party on display because…. feminism…

Dinner would be at Klom Klorm, my absolute favorite Thai restaurant in Bushwick, then we’d take the train to the Jazz Gallery in Midtown and see a show there! It’s one of my favorite venues in the city. Roulette in Brooklyn is also a strong contender.

Then we’d finish up the night with some boba or some other type of Asian confectionary dessert in K-town just a couple blocks up on West 32nd street.

Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
Mutual Mentorship for Musicians led by Jen Shyu and Sara Serpa deserves all the recognition and gratitude to who I am as a musician and artist today. It is a program dedicated to multi-generational collaboration with an emphasis on historically underrepresented identities in intersection with race, sexuality and ability. Working with the 2022 Fall Equinox Cohort has been an incredible source of inspiration, creative expression, and community. Everyone connected through this organization is deeply thoughtful and kind. It is a space that honors innovation and unconventional ideas and practices. I felt heard and recognized throughout the whole process and cannot recommend this program enough, especially to those that have ever felt invalidated or discouraged because of their gender, race, sexuality, or disability.

Website: https://www.naominakanishimusic.com

Instagram: @nakanishimusic

Youtube: https://www.facebook.com/naominakanishimusic/

Other: Bandcamp: https://naominakanishimusic.bandcamp.com/

Image Credits
Lauren Desberg (headshots), Aaron Winters (action shots)