Behind Closed Doors with Morninglory
Morninglory is a singer/songwriter based in Brooklyn. She is a Keepsake House 2022 Artist in Residence and will be performing in our upcoming show, Lighting Sparks. Tickets are on sale now! In this interview, Morninglory chats with Hailey about her musical influences, love of lamps, and Werner Herzog.
In this blog series, we post in-depth interviews that take you behind closed doors (or #BCD) with independent artists, many of whom have performed or will perform in a Keepsake show.
[Editor’s note: We tried something new for this interview and had Morninglory–named Livvy in real life–record her answers to our questions on a voice memo, hence her introduction.]
Morninglory:
Hello Hailey, it’s me, Livvy. I am currently in Carl Schurz Park on the Upper East Side with my napping baby in her stroller. [Livvy nannies between acting jobs.]
Her name is Sandra. I’ve been nannying her for the past two months. She’s an angel. She’s sleeping.
Hailey:
Your legal middle name is Morninglory. Where did that name come from and what made you want to use it for your artist name?
Morninglory:
True. That name came from my parents being Sensitive New Age Parents, or SNAPs. I wanted to use it for my artist name because it was right there, and at the time I was using my real name (Livvy Marcus) and I just wanted to have a little separation from my acting career, because a) it felt necessary at the time to step away from it, and b) I also was kind of heartbroken at the disappearance of theatre as a medium because of the pandemic. So I thought, you know what, I’m going to let this actor part of me take a nap. At the time I thought maybe I’d take a nap forever, but it turned out to just be a nap. It was necessary for me to have some separation, and the band name was right there. It was so obvious. Actually, Brice Jackson–who produced the record with me and is a brilliant musician who makes music under the name Altimetry–was the one who said, “Yeah, Morninglory is an obvious name, but let’s not waste time thinking about it. Let’s make this record.” And I was like, “You’re right!”
Hailey:
You finished recording your first full-length album, Livvy Marcus Eats Her Shoe, a while ago. It was first available on Bandcamp, and finally came out on Spotify earlier this year. Can you talk us through the process of writing, recording, and releasing the record?
Morninglory:
Writing happened over the course of three years of me writing songs because it was something I enjoyed doing and I was playing a lot of live shows. People were asking when I was going to put out a record and [I just laughed every time].
“It was kind of like a middle finger to the air, which in my experience as someone who is so goody-goody and straight-laced and addicted to rules and regulations, being a little bit ‘fuck-it’ is the only way that I can get things done.”
That’s kind of where the name of the record comes from, because there is a documentary called “Werner Herzog Eats His Shoe” that was directed by Les Blank. It literally is about Werner Herzog, the documentary filmmaker who made “Grizzlyman” and “Cave of Forgotten Dreams” and a bunch of famous documentaries, and it’s a film of him eating his shoe that he boiled for many hours. The story is that Les Blank was like, “I’m making a documentary but I keep not finishing it.” Remind you of anyone? And Werner Herzog was like, “If you can finish it, I will eat my own shoe!” So he finally finished it and put it out and as a gift, Werner Herzog ate his shoe on camera. So I think this was me being like, “Okay, okay, I’ll put out an album even though it’s a pandemic and I don’t know who I am anymore as an artist.”
It was kind of like a middle finger to the air, which in my experience as someone who is so goody-goody and straight-laced and addicted to rules and regulations, being a little bit “fuck-it” is the only way that I can get things done. I think that’s my big life lesson. I think for other people, it’s the complete opposite–they were born with their middle fingers to the air and they need to learn how to have respect for expectations.
Recording was a fucking blast! It was a week in my apartment that I took off from my full-time nannying job (my old one) that I just spent with Brice, on the floor making this record, in my house with some incredible musicians sending in tracks to bolster the sound and then a lot of us shaking herbs-au-provence into a mic to make a shaker. The whole point of this record was to make it as homegrown and intimate as I felt about it, and I think we achieved that. I hope so!
Releasing the record was a complete crapshoot. I threw it up on Bandcamp. It cost a decent chunk of change to make it, because I really believe in paying musicians what they’re worth. I think that comes from working in theatre for so many years where there is a union and fair compensation. So the record ended up costing some money, and I thought I could make a certain amount of money back if I put it on Bandcamp for a couple months before I put it out on streaming platforms. Then it made its money back and I was contacted by a fancy indie music manager who said he would put the record out and that it would do a great job. Then he was cancelled from here to high heaven for sexual harassment, and I sent another big middle finger to the air, and I put it out on streaming with the help of my dear friend, Dan, who works at an imprint called Our Friend Irving. It’s been a lovely process and now it’s out.
Hailey:
Your recorded songs use a lot of ambient sounds and voicemails. How do you choose what to sample?
Morninglory:
It’s funny, I actually didn’t feel like I used nearly as many sounds and samples as I thought I would, but in the process of making this very cut-and-dry folk record, it ended up not having a lot of room in the song structure for that many samples. But when I could [use them], I would. Genuinely, the entire ambient soundscape, every single one, was created on a visual moodboard on an app that Brice and I would refer back to religiously as the Bible for the record.
“Unrequited love makes me seasick.”
For example, for “Walk by the Water,” there were a bunch of pictures of old wooden ships, and I hope that people feel like they’re on a freaky little ship when they’re [listening to] that song, not just because that song takes place on the water, but also because unrequited love makes me seasick. And that’s what that song is about.
Hailey:
I’ve compared your voice and lyric rhythm to Shawn Colvin. Who are some of your greatest music influences, and what music are you listening to lately?
Morninglory:
I know, and that’s so nice of you! I love Shawn Colvin, as anyone with ears should.
In terms of writing and song structure, a lot of the No Nukes types that I grew up listening to have seeped their way into my DNA, so Carly Simon, Carole King, James Taylor, etc.
Then in terms of music that I found without my upbringing that has been extremely influential on me, I would say The Books is a huge influence and one of my favorite bands. I’m hugely influenced by the lyricism of Classic Country, specifically Loretta Lynn and Dolly Parton. George Jones is actually the end all be all. And at the time that these songs were written, I was listening to a lot of Newgrass, because I had just come out of music school and I wasn’t really a New Yorker yet. I would listen to Aoife O’Donovan to calm myself down when I had to walk through Times Square for an audition or something. She’s the greatest singer working right now, I think. I love her voice.
Those are influences of my music, but I listen to a lot of varied stuff. This morning I was listening to one of my favorite bands, which is Black Country, New Road. I listen to a lot of British Post Punk, like a lot, and I’ve been really into The Judds record since the passing of Naomi Judd. I’m obsessed with their eponymous album. I’ve also been listening to a lot of The Roches and a lot of Klezmer music like The Barry Sisters, because I’ve been feeling very Jewish lately (even though I’m only half-Jewish).
Hailey:
You have a song on the record called “Lenny.” It’s one of my favorites, and I always assumed it is referencing Leonard Cohen, by the name and the repeating line of “Hallelujah.” Is that true and what’s the real story behind that song?
Morninglory:
Correct! That song is called “Lenny” because it’s a tribute song. It uses so much about what I love about Leonard Cohen, who–speaking of being Jewish, he’s like a god, he’s maybe the greatest lyricist of all time. Obviously, the “Hallelujah” of it all, and the “unmade bed” reference, and the last line is also kind of a Chelsea Hotel thing. There’s a lot of Leonard Cohen in the song, even the basic song structure is exactly his vibe.
The real story behind that song is that I fell in love, kind of, in a superficial way, with a guy in college who was from the middle of Ohio and spent a lot of time by Lake Erie. I romanticize that break-up in a way that I think lent itself to Leonard Cohen-type music very well.
Hailey:
What is your favorite lyric you’ve ever written, and your favorite someone else wrote?
Morninglory:
This is a big question. I have to go to my record and see what I’ve written! I’m literally searching in my notes app.
Okay! My favorite lyric that I’ve ever written is only my favorite because my friend told me that it was a good rhyme. It’s “laugh a little / non-committal.” Haha--internal rhyme, baby!
“The only reason we separate music and theatre in this way is because Arts industries are so gated off from each other, even though they’re the same thing.”
I have many favorite lyrics in real life, of actual famous people, but I don’t want to talk about anyone famous so I guess I’ll choose a lyric of a friend. My friend Jacob Fjeldheim has a song where he opens the verse by saying, “I walked into another branch today.” It’s such a cute, silly lyric, but it’s referencing the fact that he can’t stop texting while he’s walking, and it’s such a clever way to entice people to listen to the rest of the song.
I think the greatest musical theatre lyric of all time is, “Stop worrying if your vision is new / Let others make that decision / They usually do.” [Stephen Sondheim’s “Move On” from “Sunday in the Park with George”]
Hailey:
You are a trained actor, but your music is very different from musical theatre. What are your biggest music inspirations, and do you ever draw on your day job in the music you make?
Morninglory:
I love that you refer to my theatre career as my day job, because I agree with that, but I feel weird saying that, because a lot of people want to do theatre in a way that feels less like a day job and more like a life’s passion. I would argue that why can’t your life’s passion be your day job [and vice versa]? Life is complicated, ebb and flow, who knows how I’m going to feel about it. And the only reason we separate music and theatre in this way is because Arts industries are so gated off from each other, even though they’re the same thing.
That being said, I do feel like my music is really, really different from what I do onstage, which is the musical theatre equivalent of making fart noises with my armpits. I literally am just there to make people laugh, which is probably one of my biggest life goals. I don’t think really powerful, deep folk music is a good way to do that.
I guess most of my songs–the ones that are out–are just processing heartbreak. I would say that as I have gotten more comfortable in the way that I exist in relationships, my songs have become more and more about things that bother me in my day-to-day life, which in the past few years have mostly been wealth inequality and how annoying it is to work for wealthy people, even if you love them. Sometimes they’re really out of touch and sometimes they’re really awful.
Hailey:
Can you talk about your love of lamps?
Morninglory:
Yeah, I love lamps. A lot of people ask if it’s because I love “Anchorman,” and it is a little bit. I love that movie, it’s iconic.
A lot of it has to do with the fact that when I was a kid, my parents would put on “Stop Making Sense” as TV for me and I would watch David Byrne dance with lamps. I thought it was one of the most intimate love scenes ever made. It still affects me to this day.
“Lamps are important, and I really do fancy myself a lamp. I’m human and I have a lot of faults. I’m not a big, celestial being, but I am necessary.”
I’m also really big on the fraught existence of domesticity. I nanny a lot, so I’m often in people’s homes, and I have a very micro view of the world. I’m very detail-oriented, so that has something to do with it.
And mostly, I grew up believing that you can shed your light for people, but I think when I was training in school, I found that a lot of people really fancy themselves the sun. They really want to be that, and I learned early on that sometimes people are inside. Sometimes people can’t get out of bed. Lamps are important, and I really do fancy myself a lamp. I’m human and I have a lot of faults. I’m not a big, celestial being, but I am necessary, and that’s important to me. I really do feel like I’m a lamp. I have a lamp tattoo.
Hailey:
You will play in our upcoming show, Lighting Sparks. Do you know what your set will be yet, or can you tease a little about what you plan to perform?
Morninglory:
I have a vague idea of what my set will be, but knowing me, I will get there and change my mind. So much of what I sing depends on how my voice is feeling, which is a very common theatre girl thing to say that has transferred over to this part of my life. If I’m not feeling a hundred percent, there are a couple songs that I won’t sing, because I don’t like the feeling of hearing me sing something poorly.
I think I’m going to play two old ones and two new ones. The two new ones will be finger-picked and lyric-heavy, and the two old ones will be strummed and a little more poppy-fun-time, which is pretty congruent with how things are moving for me.
Morninglory will be performing in the upcoming show, Lighting Sparks, at Super Secret Arts on Wednesday, June 1. Both in-person and livestream tickets are available now!
Hailey:
At Keepsake House, we talk a lot about the magic in live shows and the communities they help create, almost like every live performance is itself a keepsake that you cherish from a whole house of life experiences.
Morninglory:
Oh my god, fuck yeah, and eek, a house! That goes back to my obsession with domestic life.
Hailey:
Tell us about your most memorable or fulfilling live performance, the one you would grab first in a fire.
Morninglory:
The most memorable live performance I ever saw… well, my dear friend Brice is a very private person. We don’t talk all the time, but when we do, it’s intentional. They’re a pretty serious person, and the first record they put out–which is gorgeous, by the way–is a very sweepy, beautiful folk record. It sounds kind of like mine, and it’s so representative of who they were at the time, so it’s perfect for what it is. But they’ve been through a lot of changes in the past couple years and took a while off from performing live, and the first time they performed live after this little hiatus, there was a huge and noticeable dynamic shift in what they do. It broke my heart in the way that it breaks your heart when you fall in love with someone, because I realized that this person is becoming who they are. I had to play after them and it was so hard to zip up my emotional box because I was so overcome by how brilliant my friend is. I have a lot of brilliant friends, which is one of the reasons why I get to also make good stuff, because I’m lucky in that way.
I also saw Radiohead when I was 18 and it blew my mind. I love Radiohead a lot and always will, and if that makes me un-fuckable, that’s fine.
My most memorable live performance for me, that’s a tough one. I’m very hard on myself, and playing live has become increasingly tough. Genuinely, I think one of the most fulfilling live performances I’ve had is the last one I played, which was at this weird bar in Ridgewood with a pirate ship, “Twin Peaks” vibe called The Windjammer. I asked four people that I respect so much, individually and as a group, to sing and play with me. They all said yes, which blew my mind, and after the show, I could tell they’d had a nice time and the audience had a nice time, and the people I was sharing the bill with had a nice time and were also amazing. After the show, somebody came up to me and said I reminded them of Andy Shauf. It bolstered my confidence more than anything and made me feel like people understand me. I think a lot of people get into this singer/songwriter bullshit because they want people to understand them, and this is a better way of expressing yourself than chit-chat. I don’t really like to chit-chat, that’s why I never go to bars. But I just wanted to hug everyone there and say, “you get it!”
It feels really good to feel understood. As an Indo-Jewish 20-something year old in New York making extremely Americana folk-y music where it is just running parallel to a big indie-folk boom that is happening in this country but ultimately not fitting in with that, I feel very bolstered by the support that I have in my community, and I’m going to remember that night every time someone’s like, “You should move to Nashville.” I can say, “No, this is my home, and I have a community here.”
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