Turning journals into jazz

On a winter afternoon in New York two years ago, when the city's noise blended into a restless hum, Pan Chenxi sat in a quiet corner writing in her journal. She was trying to make sense of a feeling that she couldn't quite identify, an uncertain, nagging question about what comes next. The excitement that had once driven her across continents was now fading, replaced by a sense of pressure and the weight of the future.

In that still moment, she wrote a line. A melody followed. Eventually, a song was born; not a grand proclamation, but something fragile, a small way to hold onto the present before it slipped away.

That instinct to capture the fleeting, the unresolved, and the deeply human runs through This Very Moment, her debut album released on March 20. The song she wrote that winter, If Only for a Moment, is one of the album's key tracks.

On Tuesday, she'll take the stage in New York to celebrate this accomplishment with a concert at Shape-Shifter Lab.

The album's title marks a subtle shift in her perspective. Initially, she had envisioned the title If Only for a Moment for her album, a reflection on longing for something just out of reach. But Pan chose to anchor her work in the present instead.

"I don't want to place hope in some future moment," Pan says, at the threshold of her debut concert. "I want to live every moment as it is."

The album, in many ways, is a time capsule of her years in New York. Written over the past four years, the songs began as fragments — musical snapshots of specific emotional states. They didn't start as a cohesive project, but when Pan revisited them, she saw how they were all attempts to capture singular moments: a first New Year in a new country, the anxiety of impending graduation, and the quiet resilience of starting over.

For example, New Year's Wish, written during her first New York winter, carries a tentative optimism. It's the feeling that life can begin anew, and old anxieties might dissolve with the turn of the calendar. Years later, Parachute, written just before recording began in early 2025, brings the arc full circle, completing a journey Pan hadn't initially planned.

Pan's path to jazz was anything but linear. Born in 1998 and raised in Chongqing, she grew up in an environment where academic excellence was paramount. She excelled in school, eventually entering Peking University to study biology, but then switching to German literature.

"I was always able to do well," she says, reflecting on her academic years. "But I never really asked myself what I wanted to do."

The answer came through music. During her university years, she joined a student a cappella group and, for the first time, encountered jazz. Before that, her musical scope had largely been limited to pop music. But jazz, with its harmonic richness, rhythmic subtlety, and emphasis on individuality, felt like a revelation. "The more I learned, the more I loved it," she recalls. "The improvisation and the freedom in jazz were completely different."

After five years with the a cappella group, she evolved from a newcomer to a musical leader, arranging pieces and directing rehearsals. Much of her musical knowledge, like harmony and arrangement, was self-taught, driven by curiosity rather than formal education. That experience planted a seed: perhaps music could be more than just a passion.

But choosing to seriously pursue it meant breaking away from expectations. At Peking University, where stability and prestige were often seen as the ultimate goals, Pan's decision to study jazz abroad raised eyebrows. Even her parents, though ultimately supportive, were initially shocked. But for Pan, it was the first decision she made after truly searching for her future.

In 2021, she moved to New York to study jazz and contemporary music at The New School, drawn by the city's unparalleled jazz scene and its program flexibility. Surrounded by musicians from around the world, she immersed herself in both tradition and experimentation. Her teachers — musicians she had long admired — became mentors and collaborators.

For Pan, songwriting is inseparable from self-reflection. Her lyrics often emerge directly from her journals, while the melodies take shape at the piano — an instrument she began studying more seriously once she entered jazz. "Writing is a way of reaching a kind of reconciliation with myself," she says.

A pivotal moment in the album's journey came in November 2024, when Pan performed her original works live for the first time at The Stone, a distinguished New York venue. Leading her own ensemble, she shared the music with an audience that included friends from every stage of her life — childhood classmates, university peers and new connections from the city.

That night marked more than just a debut performance. It was the beginning of a deeper collaboration with her band, a group that would refine the material through rehearsals and workshops before entering the studio. In jazz, where fixed ensembles are rare, this sense of continuity gave the album a distinct intimacy.

During the recording process, Pan worked with drummer and producer Matt Wilson, whose experience and insight proved invaluable. As a first-time bandleader in the studio, she found herself balancing multiple roles: performer, composer and director. Wilson became a steady presence, offering real-time feedback and helping her focus on what mattered most: the emotional core of the music.

"What I found so intriguing about Chenxi's voice," says Wilson, "is that she connects with the music and her fellow musicians. She sings within the music, not over it. In addition, her voice aligns perfectly with her musical vision for each song, as she creates sonic atmospheres so passionately."

He continues, "Little Bells is so sweet, there's no way you can hear it and not smile. If Only for a Moment is stunning in its sheer beauty of the sonic landscape."

"Working and performing with Chenxi gives me great pleasure," says New York-based jazz pianist and composer A Bu, who also performed with Pan. "Her original music is full of vivid imagination. I especially like Little Bells, a well-crafted yet amusing work."

At the heart of Pan's artistry is her evolving relationship with improvisation. Initially, she approached it with a competitive mindset, constantly measuring herself against others. Over time, she let go of that impulse. "Now, improvisation is just about expressing what I feel at the moment," she says. "It's not about technique — it's about communicating something real."

Beyond music, Pan also paints, finding in visual art another way to process her experiences. The two practices feed into one another, expanding her sensitivity to texture, space and emotion.

This fall, Pan will further her studies at the Manhattan School of Music, pursuing a master's in jazz voice. In the summer, she also plans to launch a tour in Chinese cities, such as Hangzhou, Zhejiang province, and Beijing, to support her debut album.