Naomi Moon Siegel Opens Up and Evolves article @ All About Jazz

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data-original-title=”” title=””>Allison Miller guiding the recording as producer, Siegel reunited with her Seattle collaborators: pianist

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data-original-title=”” title=””>Marina Albero, guitarist ”
data-original-title=”” title=””>Andy Coe, percussionist

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data-original-title=”” title=””>Christopher Icasiano, trumpeter ”
data-original-title=”” title=””>Ray Larsen, and bassist ”
data-original-title=”” title=””>Kelsey Mines. The album centers on a three-movement suite exploring themes of isolation, connection, and breaking through self—imposed boundaries.

The Oberlin Conservatory graduate and Jazz Journalists Association’s Jazz Hero Award winner pushes beyond conventional jazz forms while advocating for broader representation in the field. She serves as adjunct professor of trombone at the University of Montana and leads workshops nationwide focused on collaborative approaches to jazz education.

“Growing up outside Chicago in Oak Park shaped my musical development,” Siegel says. “The public schools had robust music programs—many people from those programs still play today. Chicago’s musical backdrop was always there, even when I wasn’t consciously absorbing it.”

Her early musical diet proved rich and varied. “I listened to gospel radio stations. [For venues} We had the Jazz Showcase, the HotHouse, the Chicago Jazz Festival in Grant Park every year. Access to great music was everywhere. My parents loved music, so it just seeped in from childhood.”

Time spent living in Western North Carolina opened other creative pathways. “Everything felt possible there. The sound of water, wind, birds, the communal experience of backpacking and camping.” She learned crucial lessons about collaboration through outdoor pursuits: “Whitewater canoeing in Western North Carolina, being in a tandem boat—you learn to communicate, or you swim,” she says, laughing.

The trombone found Siegel at age 10. “Fifth grade brought the chance to play music at school. The trombone’s range drew me in—lyrical, voice-like. Plus, the slide looked cool.” Family dynamics played a role too. With older brothers on trumpet and saxophone, she sought her own musical identity while staying connected to the family’s jazz orientation.

Post-college, the West Coast beckoned. “My music school friends split between New York City and the Bay Area. The West called to me. My first college break out there showed me you could have city, mountains, and nature all together.”

Her professional start came through unexpected channels. Running an afterschool program called Seattle Music Partners, first as an AmeriCorps employee then education director, connected her deeply to the city’s musical fabric. “We recruited volunteers everywhere. I visited high schools, met band teachers. It opened up the whole landscape.”

Seattle’s jazz scene welcomed her, though it required initiative. “The Ritz became a favorite—people really listened there, pushed boundaries. Faire Gallery had jam sessions. I sat in at Seamonster Lounge with ”
data-original-title=”” title=””>McTuff,

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data-original-title=”” title=””>Joe Doria‘s group.”

Mentors emerged naturally. “Julian Priester showed such warmth when I arrived. I called asking about lessons. He said ‘Let’s just hang, come to my office.’ We’d talk for hours. Real sessions, just hanging out, talking music.”

The 2016 move to Missoula carried emotional weight. “Leaving Seattle broke my heart, but curiosity pulled me forward. My wife and I wanted that smaller town life, closer to nature. We planned to visit Seattle often.” Family played a role—her brother’s kids lived there, promising closer family ties and “a tighter community to navigate.”

This geographic shift colored her music in subtle ways. “My compositions process my life experience. Shatter The Glass Sanctuary came after a couple years in Missoula, wrestling with the transition, learning to sit with all of it.”

The album’s central suite mirrors this adjustment period. “‘Holding All the Broken Pieces’ explores being present with difficulty—feeling the contours, edges, texture of brokenness.” The second movement, “Tethered,” examines connection within isolation. “Even in dark, circular places, connection exists. Just sharing that becomes its own connection.”

“Shatter It,” the final movement, breaks through. “Pure catharsis—busting open, letting myself feel everything. Realizing I didn’t need to hold things so preciously or put them on pedestals. Those habits kept me from truly experiencing my surroundings, receiving their nourishment.”

Her teaching philosophy emphasizes collective creation. “We explore group improvisation. Horn players take on rhythm section roles. Breaking usual patterns opens more access points to jazz, beyond just favoring the confident soloists.”

This extends to her advocacy for gender diversity. “The work belongs to all of us. History brims with innovative composers and players of all genders. Every concert should reflect that fullness—mixed bands, diverse composers on every program.”

Physical awareness grounds her practice. “Music education often misses embodiment—really understanding how our bodies relate to our instruments.” The trombone presents unique challenges: “It’s such an outward instrument. Bell out, slide out, energy constantly projecting. Finding balance takes work.”

From her Montana home, Siegel leads her sextet and smaller groups through the musical territory mapped in Shatter The Glass Sanctuary. Each performance brings new interpretations, shaped by different rooms, different audiences. The music grows. The glass shatters again.

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