Review: Hey Love by Lucy Yeghiazaryan
Album cover art provided by La Reserve Records
Review by Bridget Arnwine
During his career, famed recording engineer Rudy Van Gelder built a style and legacy so revered that, in 2022, almost eight years after his passing (1924 - 2016), his recording studio was officially declared a historic landmark. Hundreds, if not thousands, of records were recorded at his Englewood Cliffs, NJ, studio. Armenian vocalist Lucy Yeghiazaryan's latest recording, titled Hey Love (La Reserve Records), joins that lineage, standing comfortably within the jazz tradition with this homage to the Great American Songbook.
Joined by her band, which includes longtime collaborator in music and life Grant Stewart (the couple recently welcomed a child together) on tenor saxophone, along with Bruce Harris (trumpet), Tardo Hammer (piano), Peter Washington (bass), Kenny Washington (drums), and guest vocalist/pianist Johnny O'Neal, who performed on two tracks, Yeghiazaryan's Hey Love joins that storied lineage, using the timeless language of the Great American Songbook to express an understanding of love shaped by partnership, motherhood, and artistic fellowship.
The recording also offers a glimpse into the singer’s expanded views on/understanding of love. There is the love of family. As a new mother, Yeghiazaryan gets to experience the love that she and Stewart share manifest in human form. There is the love of community and collaboration. Throughout the recording, she consistently gives her bandmates room to move through the music, allowing each musician's voice to emerge naturally within the arrangements. And then there is the love of music: Yeghiazaryan’s approach to the songs on the album demonstrates not only a deep respect for jazz as an art form, but her treatment of the lyrics offers a glimpse into the internal gratitude she has and the joy she feels for how those songs have shaped her life and artistry.
The recording is teeming with stellar performances, both musical and vocal. The way Yeghiazaryan’s vocals ebb and flow with the horns on “Next Spring” is masterful; her scatting while the bass grounds her in the opening section of the album’s title track feels nostalgic in the best way; the intentionality in her delivery and fun way she punctuates her phrasing on “Blow Top Blues” showcases her ability to balance wit with impeccable timing and control; and the piano solo on “Lover Man” carries an irresistible swingin’ feel. Yet the album’s greatest strength lies in what happens between Yeghiazaryan and the music throughout the recording. It lies beyond any individual solo or well-placed vocal flourish. There is an intimacy to these performances that suggests not just the singer’s admiration for the material, but her enduring relationship with it. Listening to Hey Love feels, at times, like being granted access to an artist's ongoing dialogue with an old friend.
Hey Love draws strength from tradition without becoming indebted to it. Yeghiazaryan honors the Great American Songbook not by treating it as an old artifact to be handled with white gloves, but by reminding listeners that these songs can and will evolve alongside the people who continue to give them voice. In her hands, the love she sings of is not a fixed idea. It expands to encompass partnership, motherhood, friendship, and artistic fellowship. In doing so, Yeghiazaryan offers a reminder that jazz standards endure not because they remain unchanged, but because each generation of artists finds new truths to explore within them.
