#20 Leanna Keith: All sounds are good sounds

Leanna Keith

On her website, Seattle-based musician Leanna Keith shares:
“My name is Leanna (pronounced Lee-Anna — unless you’re Chinese, in which case it’s 李妍娜 Keith). My pronouns are she/they. I am a mixed-race, genderfluid, biracial, bisexual, creative being who is deeply in love with sound.”

This love of sound and finding what resonated most with Leanna brought her to a musical impasse.

“I realized I didn’t feel represented in what I was being asked to play. I put aside what other people were telling me to love and began listening to what I love. I’m exploring who I am — it’s a freedom like no other.” This shift led Leanna to begin exploring improvisation and composition.“To my immense joy…I learned how to use electronics to explore my sound-world… and I began to tell stories with my music.”

And the exploration continues: “You’ll find me improvising not only with my flute, but with vocalizing, movement, words, and taiko. Oh yes, taiko takes up a great deal of my musical sphere these days too.”

Leanna speaks passionately about authenticity versus virtuosity and recommended the book This Is What It Sounds Like by Susan Rogers and Ogi Ogas. While I’m still immersed in it, one chapter on authenticity stood out. This quote, in particular, leapt off the page:

“Musical technique must be learned. But musical feeling is instinctive, and thus readily appreciated. The music you respond to most powerfully can reveal those parts of yourself that are the most ‘you’ — those places your mind unerringly returns to when it is daydreaming or fantasizing. Thus, by learning about the qualities of music that match up best with your listener profile, you will not only become a better listener, you’ll become better acquainted with your innermost nature.”

Leanna embraces this idea fully, describing her creative work as a snapshot of where she is in the moment—an invitation to let go. “When I create, it’s a snapshot of where I was… I very rarely feel like anything is perfect.” Her words feel like an offering—to be vulnerable, honest, and true to what our musical voice calls us to express at any given time.

“Don’t hide behind virtuosity,” she adds. “Don’t be scared of being witnessed. More important than playing perfectly, be authentic. Performers could be more if they showed themselves. Audiences know when you are being authentic, even if you make mistakes.”

Leanna encourages confidence as a gateway to vulnerability. “We are conditioned to fear failure — it has to do with how music is taught. But failure is just something that doesn’t work, and it’s okay. It shows that you tried.”

In her interview with I Care if You Listen (November, 2024), Leanna reflects on what drives her, including hope as one of her primary drivers. She says, “I keep falling upon the idea of the joy of play — childish, simple exploration is deeply optimistic. That humans can spend their days creating, making art, alchemizing sound waves into collections of time, is hope distilled.”

She then references activist and author Naomi Klein, who wrote: “Imagination is an act of rebellion,” and Leanna carries this sentiment with her. “So I just want to play,” she says. “To sing, to dance, to make silly shapes in the sand and in the airwaves.”

And, perhaps most beautifully, she leaves us with an invitation to be vulnerable and authentic when she says: “I love a non-hierarchical  listening practice…all sounds are good sounds!”

What ways do you feel authentic/vulnerable in your work?
What ways can you welcome further authenticity/vulnerability into your practice?