Sunna Gunnlaugs, an Icelandic jazz pianist renowned for her evocative blend of lyrical beauty and Nordic influences, has carved out a remarkable place in the global jazz scene over the past two decades. Her journey from the bustling jazz clubs of New York to the scenic quietude of her homeland has shaped a sound that marries graceful intricacy with the deep resonance of her heritage. With her latest album, Becoming, which marks a return to purely original compositions, Sunna reflects on the personal and cultural threads that shape her music, the evolving jazz landscape, and her commitment to fostering gender balance within the genre. In this engaging conversation, Sunna opens up about creativity, collaboration, and the moments that inspire her most – both on and off the stage.
“Becoming” marks your first album of exclusively original compositions since “Mindful” in 2000. What inspired this return to purely original material, and how does this album reflect your growth as an artist over the past two decades?
I think that COVID had a lot to do with it. Normally, my band would be touring and trying out new compositions by its members, but this time, I was working in solitude most of the time. I feel that the compositions on this album, or at least our approach as a trio, are a bit different from the previous albums and not as loose, which is due to having this long period without performing together. So, even if it represents a departure from our previous sound, it makes sense within the context of life. I believe I am always searching as an artist – searching for inspiration, exploring new ways of expression, and constantly being influenced by circumstances.
Your music has been described as a beautiful blend of lyricism and grace, with elements of Icelandic folk music delicately intertwined with jazz. Can you share how your Icelandic roots influence your compositions and how you balance these influences with the broader jazz tradition?
When I was a student at William Paterson College in New Jersey, the guitarist Kenny Burrell told me that I would bring my Icelandic heritage into my playing. At the time, I had no idea what he was talking about and could not see how my heritage would blend with bebop. But in the end, he was right. The songs, storytelling, and Nordic culture I grew up with are a part of me, so it makes sense that they shine through in my art. I love how jazz music makes me feel, and when I compose, I am fully expressing my emotions and following my ear. It was not a conscious decision but rather something that naturally occurred – I blend jazz harmony with a Nordic narrative because that is what resonates with me.
You’ve performed in some of the world’s most prestigious jazz festivals and venues, from the Kennedy Center to the London Jazz Festival. How does the energy of these different places influence your performances, and do you have a particularly memorable moment from your touring experiences?
I think every venue affects how I play. The sound of the room and the energy from the audience both play a role, and I respond to them. I appreciate having these different experiences because they help make the music feel new every time – the experience is always unique. It feels wonderful when you sense that you’ve moved the audience, especially when people come up to express their enjoyment; it shows that we gave them something meaningful. That connection nourishes my soul. I love visiting new places, big and small, in clubs and festivals alike. I simply love playing music.
In 2005, you made the significant decision to move back to Iceland after spending years in the vibrant jazz scene of New York. How did this move impact your musical direction, and what have you discovered about the Icelandic jazz scene since then?
My husband and I wanted to have children, and we believed that Iceland would be a better place to raise a family. New York was great for the 12 years I lived there, but it was time to move on. After the move, I felt that my music became calmer and had more space, reflecting the new life and environment we embraced. The jazz scene in Iceland is quite different; one must be versatile and willing to play all kinds of music, whereas in New York, musicians can focus on a specific genre or style and becoming really good at one thing. I believe both approaches are equally valuable but distinct. Life in New York was centered entirely around music, but in Iceland, it also includes nurturing relationships with old friends, family, and simply enjoying moments like firing up the grill and relaxing. The downside, however, is that we have fewer opportunities for sessions in Iceland.
The jazz world is often seen as a male-dominated space, yet you’ve been a strong advocate for gender balance in jazz, even starting your own concert series, “Freyjujazz.” What motivated you to take on this role, and what changes have you seen – or hope to see – in the industry?
As a student in Iceland, I had no role model in jazz. When I returned home from New York, I was surprised to find that I was still the only female instrumentalist on the scene. I knew that women were studying jazz in schools, but for some reason, they had not truly carved out their place in the industry. In 2015, when I became a co-director of the Reykjavik Jazz Festival, I noticed that these women weren’t even applying for spots. This led me to start “Freyjujazz” to create opportunities for women to enter the scene. I hoped it would also encourage men to collaborate with women and create joint projects, but that did not happen. Instead, women formed their own bands, sometimes including men but often working with other women. I also observed that a significant portion of the audience was composed of women.
Through the Europe Jazz Network (EJN), I have witnessed considerable efforts to increase the visibility of women in jazz, sustain conversations on the issue, and raise awareness that we all – musicians, promoters, and journalists need to do our part to bring on a change. I believe the industry is slowly evolving, particularly as younger generations enter the scene.
You’ve composed music for film and television in addition to your work as a jazz pianist. How does your approach to composing for visual media differ from your approach to writing jazz compositions?
It is quite different, and I enjoy it a lot. Composing for visual media is, of course, more restrictive because I can’t simply write whatever I want; the music must complement the story. However, it is still an expression of emotion, so I try to immerse myself in the film or story and be open to any ideas that may arise. Sometimes I fear that nothing will come to me, but I once heard that Hans Zimmer also experiences a moment of anxiety when starting a new project due to the same fear – that nothing will come. Knowing this makes me feel better about it. Ultimately, I feel a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction whenever I write a piece of music, whether it is for television, film, or my own bands.
As Vice President of the European Jazz Network, you’re in a unique position to influence the future of jazz in Europe. What trends or changes do you foresee in the coming years, and how do you plan to contribute to the evolution of the genre?
Jazz is constantly evolving. What I love about Europe is that artists’ roots have the opportunity to shine through in their art. There is a remarkable variety from country to country. I hope we soon reach a point where discussions about gender balance in jazz are no longer necessary – where it becomes the norm. We still need to come together to engage new audiences, especially in this era of streaming services and algorithms that control what people hear. I also hope we can bring more sustainability to the scene and create additional opportunities for artists to perform.
Your album “Ancestry” was recorded with the addition of Finnish trumpeter Verneri Pohjola, giving a new dimension to your trio’s sound. How do you decide when it’s time to introduce new instruments or collaborators into your projects, and what impact does working with different artists have on your creative process?
During my years in New York, I worked extensively with a quartet. I had heard Verneri perform at JazzAhead some years ago, and we kept crossing paths. When the trio was invited to perform in Tampere, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to collaborate with him. While I love the trio format, adding a fourth member can be refreshing—it lightens my responsibilities within the band and, in Verneri’s case, brought new inspiration and beauty to our sound.
Photography is often seen as a parallel art form to music, capturing moments and emotions much like a jazz performance does. If a photographer were to capture the essence of your music in a single image, what would you hope that image to convey?
Hope and optimism.
Finally, which one do you prefer—watermelon or melon?
Watermelon.
Interview: Sofia Hussein for Dinya
Images: Oli Mar
