“Poetry has always shared a foundational root with music and dance across almost every world culture, whether you look at African-American traditions, European history, or the Muscogee Nation. Jazz, specifically, is a distinctly American art form, but it is also deeply intertwined with Muscogee heritage. My people were there at its inception. Jazz was born in our homelands, and our traditional music is woven directly into its origin story.”

Joy Harjo:

The Rhythm of Spirit and Justice

Joy Harjo reflects on her creative journey as a musician and poet, exploring the deep, spiritual connection between songwriting, storytelling, and her Muscogee heritage. She discusses her evolution in music, her experiences with improvisation, and the release of her album Insomnia and Seven Steps to Grace. As a poet and musician, Joy Harjo channels a creative force she describes as a “vibration of love” to connect countless traditions and art forms, countering the despair and heartache caused by power and hate. “Insomnia and Seven Steps to Grace” (2026), her debut for Smithsonian Folkways, draws on the long-intertwined rhythms of jazz and poetry, the power of improvisation and self-expression through sound, and the vitality of Native culture and spirituality to spark a chain of vibrational energy to engulf the whole world. Harjo’s voice is bold and direct, supported by producer and bass player Esperanza Spaulding, covering a repertoire that includes a jazz standard, a song written by Harjo’s mother and uncovered by her sister, and many originals that speak to contemporary issues and her life as one of the most celebrated American poets of the last century.

(Joy Harjo / Photo by Matika Wilbur)

Joy's prose publications include a book of short essays, Girl Warrior: On Coming of Age and a series of vignettes on writing, Catching the Light. She has edited three anthologies of Native literature, including When the Light of the World was Sub­dued, Our Songs Came Through — A Nor­ton Anthol­o­gy of Native Nations Poet­ry, Reinventing the Enemy's Language, and Living Nations, Living Words: An Anthology of First Peoples Poetry, the companion anthology to her signature Poet Laureate project. Harjo holds the Ruth Yellowhawk Fellowship from the Kettering Foundation, and is the inaugural Artist-in-Residence for the Bob Dylan Center in Tulsa, Oklahoma. She lives on the Muscogee Nation Reservation in Oklahoma.

Interview by Michael limnios                           Archive: Joy Harjo, 2021 interview

Special Thanks: Joy Harjo, Jennifer Foerster, and Christos Aggelakopoulos

Reflecting on your extensive journey, what are some of the most profound lessons you have learned from your life experiences?

The most vital lesson has been learning to listen to my spirit—practicing what I call "deep listening." It is about understanding how to pay attention and truly perceive the world around you.

Since you first began making music, how have you evolved as an artist, and what has remained constant in your creative process?

My musical journey began late; I didn’t start making music until I was almost forty years old. I grew up around it—my mother wrote songs, made demos, and performed when I was very young, though she eventually gave it up to raise four children. For a long time, I focused on poetry. However, the roots of poetry are intrinsically musical.

When I finally shifted to music, my first project was a Native band composed mostly of Indigenous musicians. We played a fusion of reggae and rock, blending original instrumentation with spoken-word poetry. I essentially learned to play the saxophone on my very first album, cutting my teeth in front of live audiences. From there, my sound evolved. Every album and project since has been distinct in its configuration.

I was always advised to play with musicians who were better than me, which pushed me to collaborate widely. My real education in improvisation happened during a trip to India. The Calcutta Book Fair had been canceled, so our coordinator, Galton, took our group of American poets to perform in various alternative venues. He heard me play the saxophone and loved it so much that he had me improvise at every single stop. That experience unlocked my love for jazz and improvisation. What draws me to it is the freedom to dive deep into the music and move organically alongside other musicians.

“That is a beautiful mystery. It is something I was born with; it has been part of my identity since childhood. Early on, I expressed it through painting, dance, and a love for music. Creativity runs on both sides of my family—my mother was musical, and my father’s mother and aunt were painters.” (Joy Harjo reflects on her creative journey as a musician and poet, exploring the deep, spiritual connection between songwriting, storytelling, and her Muscogee heritage / Photo by Shawn Miller)

The Intersection of Jazz, Poetry, and Indigenous Roots

What are the invisible lines that connect jazz music and poetry?

Poetry has always shared a foundational root with music and dance across almost every world culture, whether you look at African-American traditions, European history, or the Muscogee Nation. Jazz, specifically, is a distinctly American art form, but it is also deeply intertwined with Muscogee heritage. My people were there at its inception. Jazz was born in our homelands, and our traditional music is woven directly into its origin story.

Where does your creative drive originate?

That is a beautiful mystery. It is something I was born with; it has been part of my identity since childhood. Early on, I expressed it through painting, dance, and a love for music. Creativity runs on both sides of my family—my mother was musical, and my father’s mother and aunt were painters.

Ultimately, I am driven by curiosity and joy, but also by intense discipline. Jazz and poetry both require immense dedication to the craft. If you want your art to take flight, you first have to build a flawless vehicle.

How exactly do your Native American roots influence your work today?

It grounds everything, especially through that historical connection to jazz and the saxophone. We often say in my community that one day the saxophone will be considered a traditional Muscogee instrument because we were an essential part of the fabric that created it.

“My musical journey began late; I didn’t start making music until I was almost forty years old. I grew up around it—my mother wrote songs, made demos, and performed when I was very young, though she eventually gave it up to raise four children. For a long time, I focused on poetry. However, the roots of poetry are intrinsically musical.” (L: Cover of Joy Harjo’s album “Insomnia and Seven Steps to Grace” by Smithsonian Folkways - R: Joy Harjo / Photo by Karen Kuehn)

Navigating the Road and the Renegade Status

Jazz and poetry are frequently linked to the Beat Generation. How influential was that movement in your own life?

It was a constant presence. Any student of my generation taking literature classes was intimately familiar with jazz, the Beats, and poets like Allen Ginsberg. I actually had the privilege of playing with David Amram, who was instrumental in originally bridging the gap between the Beat writers and the jazz scene.

In American literature, the Beats were celebrated as the ultimate renegades and revolutionaries—think of Jack Kerouac’s On the Road. However, that movement was also deeply male-dominated. I have been thinking about this a lot lately as I prepare to write my third memoir. I am on the road constantly, but the experience of a female artist navigating the road is fundamentally different from that of a man.

Furthermore, I didn't fit into the mainstream literary establishment for a very long time. I was viewed as an outsider, someone who didn't quite belong in those major circles until much more recently. The same thing happened with my music; I always insisted on doing my own thing with the saxophone. It has taken time, but I finally feel like I am carving out my rightful space, particularly now through my association with the Bob Dylan Center.

The Poem as a Time Machine and Truth-Teller

Returning to the core of our discussion, how do you view the role of artists, musicians, and poets in modern society?

The role of the artist has always been that of a truth-teller—someone who reflects the realities of society and culture. Historically, artists have used allusion and metaphor to speak those hard truths safely, protecting themselves from being targeted for their words.

Through my journey, and especially during my time as the U.S. Poet Laureate, I realized why I chose to keep writing, whether I was widely known or not. It mattered. I realized that poems function as succinct, language-transforming stations—much like music. When combined, they can shift the very fabric of reality within a piece. A poem is often a collision of different eras; it is a way of distilling history and freezing a single moment. Because poetry is fundamentally an oral art, it enables the listener to move fluidly through what lies ahead of them or behind them, whether the subject is a historical trauma, a personal challenge, or an exclamation of pure beauty.

“In American literature, the Beats were celebrated as the ultimate renegades and revolutionaries—think of Jack Kerouac’s On the Road. However, that movement was also deeply male-dominated. I have been thinking about this a lot lately as I prepare to write my third memoir. I am on the road constantly, but the experience of a female artist navigating the road is fundamentally different from that of a man.” (Joy Harjo, renowned performer and writer of the Muscogee Nation / Photo by Shawn Miller)

Transmuting the Human into the Spiritual

John Coltrane once said, "My music is the spiritual expression of what I am." How do you perceive the connection between the spirit, music, and the meaning of life?

That very question is actually the subject of my next book! It truly encompasses everything. We are all spiritual beings; our bodies are merely the vehicles we navigate. The ultimate purpose of art is to transmute this raw human experience into the spiritual realm. In doing so, it nourishes and feeds the collective spirit of the people as we journey through our shared stories.

I reference Coltrane frequently because he so boldly demonstrated how the saxophone, jazz, and art can be used to approach and unlock the doors of the spiritual world.

How do you prepare for a recording session or a live performance to maintain that level of spiritual and musical stamina?

Continuous practice and a commitment to lifelong learning are essential. But beyond the technicality, there is a spiritual preparation. Before we entered the historic Church Studio in Tulsa to record this new album, Insomnia and Seven Steps to Grace, we stood outside and asked for a blessing. My husband helped facilitate that. We even set up a small altar inside the studio so we could begin the session fully grounded and prepared.

Of course, collaborating with exceptional musicians is also vital. Working with Esperanza [Spalding] was incredible; she is one of the absolute best. She possesses that rare, open-minded quality and knows exactly how to navigate those deeper, Coltrane-like spiritual realms. We are highly compatible in that sense. Together with Matthew Stevens and Justin Tyson, it was the perfect musical combination.

“The role of the artist has always been that of a truth-teller—someone who reflects the realities of society and culture. Historically, artists have used allusion and metaphor to speak those hard truths safely, protecting themselves from being targeted for their words.” (Joy Harjo has produced eight award-winning music albums. Her latest, Insomnia and Seven Steps to Grace, produced by Esperanza Spaulding, via Smithsonian Folkways Recordings / Photos by Shawn Miller & Paul Abdoo)

55 Years of Passion: Curiosity, Youth, and the Stage

What keeps an artist passionate and driven after 55 years in music, poetry, and art?

Curiosity and the joy of discovery. There are infinite realms of understanding to explore, and I am constantly learning something new. That is what keeps me moving forward. Sometimes family members ask me, "Aren't you ever going to retire?" But what does retirement even mean in this context? I am here to experience life and to give back. At this stage—I turn 75 next month—my focus is on helping others while continuing to create. Art is my way of giving back; it is a distillation of everything you, your generation, and your people have survived and moved through.

How can the newer generation bridge the gap to jazz, poetry, and traditional art in a commercialized world? How can artists adapt to today's audience?

Today, everyone turns to social media, and that is how many independent artists survive. I engage with it to some extent, but I ultimately want to live my life outside the screen. The mainstream music business is heavily hyper-focused on youth, and the infrastructure has changed drastically. When I was starting out, industry success relied heavily on radio stations, corporate backing, and even payola. While similar dynamics exist today, the internet and social media have shifted the landscape.

When I was younger, fronting my band, Joy Harjo and Poetic Justice, we generated a real buzz and started getting mainstream attention. However, I didn’t know how to navigate the business side, nor did I have major financial backing or professional management. It was just me—a poet—and my band. If I had been more driven by commercial success, I might have pushed it further down that path. But that was never my purpose. My purpose has always been the creation and performance of the music itself, rather than the business surrounding it.

Whether on stage or in the studio, how do you balance the identity of the poet with that of the musicians? How do you harmonize these different creative personalities?

I view them all as branches of the exact same tree. I think of the human voice and the voice of the saxophone as one and the same. Even though the horn, the vocals, and the written word each require distinctly different physical techniques, they all deal with the same core elements: pattern, resonance, and sound quality. Even when I am writing on a blank page or painting on a canvas, I experience it as an extension of the same creative impulse. The techniques change, and you navigate the canvas differently, but you are always working within the same spiritual space.

“The most vital lesson has been learning to listen to my spirit—practicing what I call "deep listening." It is about understanding how to pay attention and truly perceive the world around you.” (Joy Harjo served three terms as the 23rd Poet Laureate of the United States from 2019-2022 and is winner of the Poetry Society of America's 2024 Frost Medal, Yale's 2023 Bollingen Prize for American Poetry, and was recently honored with a National Humanities Medal / Photo by Karen Kuehn)

Navigating Global Shifts and Finding True Joy

Are there any specific themes or emotions that you tend to explore in your music as a poet?

This particular album came together with a very distinct purpose. I even chose to re-record some of my older songs in a completely different way because I felt they carried a message that is absolutely vital for the exact moment we are living in. We are currently navigating a period of massive global transformation—both economic and spiritual shifts. There is a major awakening happening right now, a turning toward and exposing of systems that have been corrupt for a very long time. I curated and structured Insomnia and Seven Steps to Grace with this in mind, intending for the music to serve as a companion and a source of strength to help assist listeners as we move through this intense era together.

On a more personal note, what is joy for Joy? What does the concept of joy truly mean to you?

Oh, it is found in the simplest and most profound things. It is the plants in the garden, the sunrise, the quiet of midnight. It is my grandchildren, the children, my students, and the young people I meet. In fact, my latest book was written specifically for them, and my music is designed to guide them too.

Joy is also the connection I share with my partner. I didn't necessarily wait around for the right person, but it took many years to finally find this partnership.

And, of course, there is the stage. Even though traveling becomes physically harder on the body as you get older, there is absolutely nothing like performing with these incredible musicians and being completely immersed inside the music. It feels exactly like dancing. There is a tremendous, transcendent joy in that—it is a form of direct communication with deep spiritual realms of immense beauty and, so to speak, mathematical genius.

The Archetype of the Girl Warrior

I would love to ask one final question about your book, The Girl Warrior. The figure of the warrior in your work seems to simultaneously embody a child, an ancestor, and a modern woman. What are the connections and contrasts between these individual and archetypal symbols?

I believe that whether you are an elder woman or a young child, you carry every single aspect of that lineage and personhood within your current makeup. You don't experience them chronologically; you are all of them at once. While the book is intentionally geared toward uplifting young women, its message ultimately reaches far beyond that. It is about sharing lived stories and insights that might offer guidance. I have been blessed with some truly incredible teachers throughout my life, and this book is my way of passing those lessons forward.

Joy Harjo - Home

(L: Joy Harjo / Photo by Melissa Lukenbaugh - R: Cover of Joy Harjo’s “Girl Warrior: On Coming of Age)