Swedish diva Jeanette Lindström is the kind of person you like more every time you talk to her, watch her perform or as in my case correspond with her during the course of writing this article. Her fans’ love for Lindstrom was obvious when a couple of months ago I had the opportunity to attend one of her concerts in Vancouver, Canada.

Lindström is a gifted singer and songwriter who exudes warmth when she talks to her audience, evokes strong emotions with her passionate vocals, and never seems to stop smiling while she is performing. At the end of the concert that I attended, the singer was so moved by her audience’s boisterous applause and comments, that she extended her arms imitating a group hug.

“When an audience responds like that, it is just amazing. It is worth all of the hard work. It makes me want to give even more,” says the native of Stockholm.

Lindström explains, “For me music is all about communication, communication with the audience, your fellow musicians and with yourself. I think music helps us to express things in ways that we cannot express with just words (when talking). There is a lot of communication going on whether I am singing with or without words (such as scatting or vocalese). If an audience responds like they did the other night (in Vancouver), it is a sign that you reached them, and that real communication is happening. That is what I really like.”

A lot of Lindström’s ability to establish a strong rapport with her audience comes from her ability to be vulnerable in her performance.  “You need to be vulnerable, but at the same time remember that it is a performance,” Lindström says, noting that there is a balance that must be struck, between being open with your audience, but at the same time retaining your dignity as a performer and as an individual.

There is a strong connection between Lindström and the original material that she performs. “My songs are a mix of personal experiences, or things that I see and experience in the world around me. I like my lyrics to have lots of open space, so the listener can interpret them, and make them their own.”

She shares with me two different interpretations of a ballad she performed at concert a few years ago, and they could not have been more polarized.  “I had one person come up and talk to me about the song. The (individual) said the ballad was beautiful, but sad, and made them cry. A few minutes later, another person came up and said about the same song, it made them happy. That was really weird (she laughs). It depends on where people are in their own lives.”

Some songwriters or balladeers might be troubled by numerous interpretations of their material, over which they have toiled for long hours. Lindström however, has no difficulty in accepting the fact that the listener might personalize her songs in ways she may not have imagined. She explains why, “If I create and sing a song, even if it is clear to me what it is about in that moment, I give it away, knowing that there will be as many interpretations of it (the song), as there are listeners. That is what you do, you relate to your own life memories and situations. When listeners make the music their own, I think that is a beautiful thing. It is so nice to sense and feel that communication.”

One of Lindström’s songs, “Leaf,” from Middle Of This Riddle, is a story which she describes as a beautiful meeting between two people. The songwriter wanted to deliver a message with her song, “It is about not having to hide who you are. Some people put on faces and attitudes, when they think that they have to be somebody that they aren’t. “Leaf,” is about open communication without wearing masks,” she says.

 September 2007