On the evening of February 28th, Charlotte Day Wilson in a luminescent white suit hovered above me, slowly floating back to Earth. After ten years releasing music as an independent R&B artist, including last year’s Grammy-nominated Cyan Blue, the Toronto-born and based Day Wilson took center stage for a hometown performance that would anoint her as an icon: an orchestral retrospective in collaboration with Red Bull at Roy Thomson Hall, the city’s most prestigious auditorium where Ella Fitzgerald, Dev Hynes and The Tragically Hip have all performed. I caught up with Day Wilson the next day to chat about the historic performance.
Tell me about the look.
I knew the band and everyone else would be in black or darker colors, so I thought, “What’s the opposite of black? White.” My girlfriend, when she saw me in it, was like, “Wow, you’re really taking it to church.” And I was like, wait, I kind of look like a minister or something. But no, it was just a good white outfit, and I was styled by my friend Jackie McKeown.
How were you feeling leading up to the show?
My brain sounded like an orchestra warming up and playing all the songs at once. This show was completely unique to that night. Normally, as a performer, you have certain songs you perform all the time, so it’s like muscle memory. Some of the vocal parts were muscle memory to me at this point, but musically, everything was different that night, new information. I couldn’t sleep. I’d wake up with thoughts like, “Oh my god, don’t forget this. Don’t forget that.” On top of that, all the music layers were playing in my head. I just wanted to get the performance over with to get those thoughts and sounds out of my head.
Are they out of your head?
They keep creeping back a little, but more like memories of the performance. You kind of black out when you’re on stage, and then it all comes back to you afterward.
On stage, you talked about this feeling that you wanted to capture. What was that feeling?
When you’re young and trying to find your identity, music and art just has such a deep impact. A big reason why I create art is because I don’t experience that feeling of deep connection, like getting goosebumps or crying from art. I get that feeling by creating. I really just wanted to be overwhelmed by beauty for this performance. I had full-body chills for the entire show.
You brought out [British artist and producer] Sampha to perform (No One Knows Me) Like the Piano with you. How did that happen?
I’ve known of him as an artist for a long time and we share a lot of mutual friends, but we’ve never actually connected. And that is just one of my favorite songs of all time.
And you brought out [Toronto artist] Saya Grey, too.
Before the pandemic Saya and I were working at the same studio in different rooms, and we became really close during that time. She helped write a couple things for me, and that was before she even really put any of her own music out. It was amazing to see how truly gifted she is.
During the show you played guitar, piano, and the sax with such ease that the instruments felt like limbs.
I have so much respect for instrumentalists and it was such a beautiful experience to share the stage with people who are the best of the best in the country at what they do. But I have an unrequited thing with them myself. I play instruments, but I just have never dedicated as much time to them as others have. Instrumentalists are empathetic. They learn how to really listen to that instrument, to listen to how their body interacts with it and everyone else that’s on stage with them.
What were you feeling on stage?
My favorite thing was locking eyes with the choir. I felt like I could really feel their spirits, like that they were genuinely connected to the performance and to the music.
Do you replay any moments from the night?
Yeah, the moment where I was talking about my respect for the musicians, and they got a standing ovation in the middle of the set. I don’t think any of us were necessarily expecting that. The other is that I’m not 100% comfortable on stage. I’m confident, but I’m not a born performer in any other part of my life. Any time when I can take a little bit of the pressure off myself and give it to others, I’ll take that opportunity. I felt really supported by everyone on stage. I think the other moment that really got to me was during the Rain (by SWV) cover. During the performance, towards the end of the song at the final chorus I just heard one of the singers behind me ad-libbing at the top of her lungs, singing over everyone else. I was just like, “Oh my God, yes!” She felt it, and she went for it, and nailed it. It was one of the most beautiful moments. I had to remind myself to keep playing, but all I could do was smile. I’ve watched it like a hundred times with my girlfriend.
Do you care about fame? How do you balance commercial pressures with making the music you want to make?
No. There were times where I did and never really knew why. As I’ve matured, I’ve realized that fame can breed really unhappy people, and I’ve seen enough to know I don’t want it. Accolades are different from fame, though. I’m so grateful for my career, but it’s not like I just put something out then I’m at the Grammys. It’s been 10 years of hard work, and now I’m at the Grammys. We all deserve recognition, and I’m lucky to receive it but it doesn’t define me.
What do you want to do next?
I want to do more symphony shows. I want to do this all over the world. That’s my dream.