First, forget everything you know about Sarah Rudinoff. If you’re an
ordinary Seattle music fan, that should be easy. Aside from a brief
slot supporting Miranda July at Neumo’s in May, Rudinoff’s forays into
familiar rock stomping grounds have been few.
For members of the theater community, the task is tougher. The
recipient of the 2004 Stranger Genius Award for theater, the actress
has won raves for her flawless timing, and signature blend of bravura
and vulnerability. Then there’s her singing voice, which benefits from
both of the aforementioned assets, as well as its distinctive low
register and sheer oomph. Time and again—in Hedwig and the
Angry Inch, the Leiber and Stoller revue Smokey Joe’s
Cafe—she’s proven her versatile musical chops, fusing
elements of rock, blues, and jazz. For her 2006 Theatre Off Jackson
cabaret, Last Year’s Kisses, she put her indelible stamp on
material associated with Jeff Buckley, the Gits, Roberta Flack, even
Sonny and Cher. Most recently, Seattle Magazine found its way
to Rudinoff, crowing in its 2007 Music Portfolio that “her big brassy
vocals sound like they were soaked in Jack Daniels.” Cliché,
sure, but her inclusion alongside jazz great Ernestine Anderson as one
of “Two Women with Pipes to Die For” reflects the growing interest in
Rudinoff’s vocal talents.
Now, after years of finding herself in other people’s songs,
Rudinoff has begun searching for songs in herself. Words and music by
Sarah Rudinoff, written and performed with collaborator Gretta
Harley.
“I never had a band before,” admits Rudinoff. “Hedwig was
my first experience playing with a real rock band, not theater people
who kind of play music.” Last Year’s Kisses, which featured
pianist/guitarist Harley as musical director, Gina Mainwal (Sweet 75)
on drums, and Nancy Wharton (Walkabouts, Laura Veirs) on bass and
cello, further stoked Rudinoff’s desire to make music outside her usual
beat.
The final push came when she sang at the closing of the Mirabeau
Room last fall. “That show was magical for me,” she says. “I woke up
the next morning and cried for two hours.”
“You do theater, and people like it and they get something from it,”
she continues. But compared to the feedback of a live club audience?
Ha. “Music is so direct and emotional.” That September night,
well-wishers—both speechless and babbling—got up in her
face; the next day, e-mail continued flowing in. Voilà, the
light-bulb moment! “Why haven’t I pursued this?” she mused.
“I have to figure out a way to make music primary for me.
Period.”
Sean Nelson—singer, songwriter, Stranger alumnus, and
Rudinoff fan—saw the Mirabeau gig and talked with her immediately
afterward. The obstacle she faced, as he saw it, wasn’t her reputation
but her repertoire: material from Hedwig and other covers.
“That sort of thing is what all her friends already expect from her,
the Sarah shtick,” Nelson says. “She’s plainly bored with filling that
expectation, so my thought was, why not confound it?”
So what if her cachet at On the Boards doesn’t immediately translate
to the Crocodile? “Rather than being discouraged by that, she should be
emboldened,” Nelson adds. “She doesn’t have to be the theater version
of herself. She can create a new version.” Music offers a chance of a
rebirth of sorts for Rudinoff. To accomplish it, original songs are
essential.
The actress is innately musical. She frequently bursts into song to
illustrate her points, and discusses Joni Mitchell with the same
reverence and ardor adolescent boys devote to sex. But she can’t read
music and has no background in theory. Which is where Harley—a
veteran of local bands including Maxi Badd, Danger Gens, and
Eyefulls—complements her. Versatile on piano and guitar and
boasting a degree in composition from Cornish, the dark-haired rocker
has proven an ideal foil. In addition to Mitchell, their musical points
of intersection include Pixies, Prince, and Frank Zappa.
The duo spent this summer woodshedding and hammering ideas into
finished songs. At Harley’s insistence, and despite hectic schedules,
they met two or three times a week. “Even if it was just for an hour,”
says Harley. “[Writing] was constantly on our minds that way.”
So far, they have a handful of finished works. Their rate of
progress varies, depending on whose perspective you get.
“The first time we got together, Sarah said, ‘Here are some
lyrics,'” remembers Harley. Rudinoff sang a chunk of a melody, and she
elaborated on it. “I sat down at the piano, and an hour later, we had
about half of a song, with chords and harmonies. And Sarah said, ‘God,
songwriting takes a long time.’ After an hour. I thought we
were kicking ass!”
They are. After performing the show-stopping “Just Every Fisher’s
Folly” as part of the You’re on the List program at Bumbershoot a few
weeks ago, Rudinoff was once again deluged by e-mails and text messages
of encouragement.
Nelson caught an earlier airing of one of the Rudinoff/Harley songs
at the Miranda July appearance, and was similarly impressed. “Though
she was plainly super-nervous, it went great,” he says. “There was a
lot of her in [the song]: very frank, very coarse, but very tender. And
the audience ate it up. It seemed to bode well for the future.”
The future includes making a demo, and, more importantly, nailing
down a band moniker. “As far as that is concerned, the big thing is
defining myself outside of my name,” Rudinoff says. “We’re going to
play throughout the winter and spring under whatever name we come up
with and we’re going to create our own thing.” She is confident that
people will find the music, regardless of billing. “There will be some
who’ve already seen my shows that have had music in them, and there
will be new people,” she says.
Another audience to learn—and unlearn—all about Sarah
Rudinoff. 
