When Samara Joy talks about music, she isn’t just recalling melodies. She’s remembering moments of devotion—family harmonies that stretched from the church pews of Philadelphia to the soundstages of Carnegie Hall. “Thanksgiving of ’09,” she recalls, smiling at the memory. “My dad, uncle, cousins, grandparents—everybody sang. It was the first time I realized how special my family was, music being the way we connect to God and to one another.”
That connection—spiritual, communal, and generational—anchors Portrait, Joy’s third studio album and her boldest statement yet. At 25, the Bronx native has already collected five Grammy Awards and a string of historic performances, from Sesame Street to Austin City Limits. Yet rather than chasing the spotlight, Joy has turned inward, crafting an album that reflects her independence and creative clarity.
“I hope listeners feel a certain liberation in my sound,” she says. “I’m free and grounded in my voice but also as a person. No matter what happens in my life, good or bad, I don’t want to sacrifice the integrity of my music for anything.”
That conviction comes alive across Portrait, a lush and fearless record co-produced by veteran trumpeter Brian Lynch. Joy’s voice sits inside a rich octet, where horns and piano converse like old friends. The sessions, recorded at the legendary Van Gelder Studio in just three days, were less about perfection than presence. “It was the easiest recording session I’ve ever done,” she says. “Because we already had that chemistry, translating that into the studio was seamless.”
Joy’s creative process resembles jazz itself—structured yet spontaneous. She describes making Portrait as “building a house together,” with every musician contributing freely to the arrangements. “I choose the songs, they orchestrate it as they see fit,” she explains. “Then we shape it together, honoring the influences that inspire us while being true to our own voices.”
Her reverence for those influences runs deep. The gospel roots of her grandparents, Elder Goldwire and Ruth McLendon of The Savettes. The spiritual warmth of Stevie Wonder. The tonal grace of Lalah Hathaway. The lyricism of Clifford Brown. These voices, she says, “trained my ear,” shaping her into a vocalist who understands that interpretation is as much about listening as it is about leading.
Still, Joy’s path to jazz wasn’t inevitable. She admits she didn’t fully fall in love with the genre until college, after hearing Sarah Vaughan sing with effortless poise and Clifford Brown play trumpet like he was reciting scripture. “Those two artists jumpstarted my love for jazz,” she says. “They made me want to be a great musician.”
And that’s what Portrait feels like—a young artist daring herself to grow beyond expectation. Joy’s pen dances with the legacies of Charles Mingus, Sun Ra, and Barry Harris, reimagining their melodies with new lyrics and renewed urgency. “It can be difficult,” she admits, “but it’s liberating when I finally find the right words.”
For Joy, jazz isn’t a relic—it’s a living language. “It’s important to understand the artists who created and contributed to the vast world of jazz,” she says. “Creating from that springboard of inspiration has allowed me to build a sound that’s rooted but still uniquely mine.”
Her approach feels both studied and spiritual, much like her performances. Whether at Carnegie Hall or a local club, she sings with the same grounded humility. “It still feels surreal,” she laughs. “But I’ve learned to take it all in while staying focused on connecting the audience to the music I want to share.”
If Linger Awhile introduced her to the world, Portrait reveals her conviction. The Samara Joy we hear now is not the ingénue stunned by her own success, but a self-possessed bandleader defining what it means to grow in public. “I never considered myself a leader,” she says. “But being thrust into the spotlight gave me the chance to mature in a new way. I’ve learned how to truly be in control of my vision.”
As she looks to her next chapter, Joy’s focus remains steady—making music that feels honest and whole. “I just want to make music that’s true to who I am,” she says softly. “I’ve been fortunate to have the support of so many on this journey, and I’m still learning how to navigate it all. But I’m looking forward to growing into the next phase—and having the audience grow with me.”