Sean Clapis
Interview
Sean Clapis is a guitarist shaped by the tradition of American jazz who has managed to develop his career across different contexts without losing artistic coherence. Born in Connecticut and trained at the Hartt School of Music, where he studied with figures such as Jackie McLean and Steve Davis, he spent several years in New York before settling in Madrid, the city where he has lived for almost seven years.
Far from representing a break, his move to Spain was a natural continuation of an already solid path. From here, he has consolidated his work as a leader and expanded his network of collaborations within a constantly growing scene. His album Paths Unfold in the Dark (2023), recorded with a band of Spanish musicians after a long period of working together, reflects this moment of artistic maturity and a clear commitment to collective sound. Although the album is self-produced, it caught the attention of Greg Osby and placed Clapis within the Inner Circle orbit, one of the most active platforms in contemporary jazz.
Currently, Clapis combines his personal project with an intense activity as a sideman and collaborator, moving comfortably between modern jazz, swing, and the roots of the genre. His trajectory emphasizes long-term development, dialogue between scenes, and the constant search for a personal voice within today’s jazz landscape.
In&Out Jazz Magazine: Sean, you’ve been living in Spain for almost seven years now. To begin with, when did you arrive in Madrid, and what led you to decide to stay here as a musician?
Sean Clapis: First of all, sorry for my level of Spanish. At home I always speak English with my kids—they learn fast, and I’m going more slowly, but I try.
My wife is from Las Rozas, and she’s a classical pianist. We met while studying at the Hartt School, where we had teachers like Steve Davis and Jackie McLean, great figures in jazz. After we got married, we lived in New York for about seven or eight years.
Just before the pandemic, I recorded an album in London at Abbey Road Studios, where the Beatles recorded. I won that opportunity through a competition in Poland—the prize was to record there. Meanwhile, since 2008, we had been coming to Madrid often. I already had a strong connection with the city: friends, jam sessions, musicians… people like Bob Sands, Rubén Andreu, and many others.
During European tours, we always passed through Madrid. And while I was touring Europe and recording that album, I spoke a lot with Paula about life in New York. It’s an incredible city, but very hard for musicians. We also wanted to have children and start a family. Madrid seemed like a good place to try to do what we had been doing in New York, but with a more balanced life.
Moving here just before the pandemic felt almost like a sign. Musicians in New York suffered much more. Everything aligned: music, family, and personal and artistic growth.
You lived in New York for many years. What differences do you see between that scene and the one you found in Madrid and Spain?
I started coming to Spain around 2008 or 2009, and over these almost twenty years the scene has grown tremendously. Before, there might have been one or two top musicians per instrument; now the overall level is extremely high. In Madrid, there are incredible musicians from everywhere: Spanish, Cuban, from all over the world.
New York is still the “Mecca.” The level is brutal. I remember my first jam there—Josh Evans called me to play, and when I got on stage there was a guy who looked almost homeless, playing flugelhorn unbelievably well. It turned out to be Roy Hargrove. I was playing with a jazz god without even realizing it.
That defines New York: extremes. You can get on stage as a nobody and play with the best musicians in the world, without ego—just music.
In 2023, you released Paths Unfold in the Dark with a band made up of Spanish musicians. How did that album come about?
The band formed during the pandemic. Nobody had work, and I was constantly composing to keep my head together. I called Naima Acuña, Daniel Juárez, Darío Guibert… we were lucky to connect when they were available, because now they’re top musicians and always busy.
We had a lot of time to develop the music. Also, since foreign musicians couldn’t travel, I was “the available guiri,” and we got called for concerts and festivals. That allowed us to play a lot and grow as a band.
I knew that moment wouldn’t last, so I decided to record the album. The title Paths Unfold in the Dark—“paths that open from the darkness”—came from a phrase I heard in a dream during the pandemic. For me, it symbolizes the idea that when everything is dark, that’s when paths begin to open. It’s a message of hope.
The album is self-produced, and you’re now connected to Greg Osby’s Inner Circle. How did that relationship develop?
I have immense respect for Greg Osby, both as a musician and as a producer. We recorded the album in a single afternoon, almost all first takes, at Camaleón Studios in Madrid. Dani or Naima mentioned that Greg was expanding Inner Circle and building bridges between the U.S. and Spain.
I wrote to him, we had a Zoom call, and he told me he loved the album—that we sounded like a real band. That meant a lot to me. I didn’t want a record that could sound the same with different musicians, but a clear identity. We had been playing together for over a year, and it shows. I really appreciated that observation.
On this album, you decided not to sing and to focus solely on the guitar. Why?
Good question. I like singing, but I don’t consider myself a singer—I’m a guitarist. On previous albums I sang on one or two tracks, but with this one it was very clear to me: it had to be instrumental, more aggressive, without lyrics. I wanted the audience to have complete freedom to interpret the music, without a closed verbal message.
Some listeners compare your voice to Neil Young or even Chet Baker.
Even though my parents aren’t professional musicians like me, they have very good ears. My father worked in other fields and is now retired, but he played—and still plays—in a Beatles tribute band. He sings and plays all of Paul McCartney’s parts.
I grew up with that at home, and with my mother singing as well. Those are my roots: rock, classic rock, the music of my parents’ generation. I’m the first jazz musician in my family, the only “fool” who decided to make this his job.
There was always music at home. But when I was younger, with the typical guitarist ego, I thought, “I’m not going to sing—that’s silly, I just want to play guitar.” I was more purist then. Over the years, I’ve come to understand that the voice is the purest instrument and the one that connects most easily with others.
After taking a class with pianist Aaron Goldberg many years ago, I started singing while playing. It’s not something I do all the time, but I always keep it in mind: what I’m playing should be singable, it should sound good in the voice.
That helps me cut away the “fat” from my musical ideas so they’re more pure. Guitarists tend to play too much—lots of notes—and I love playing lots of notes, but every note has to have direction.
The first filter is the mind, which is connected to the voice. Little by little, I started bringing the voice out more—singing alone, singing melodies. It’s something I really enjoy now. Someday, I’ll be a singer (laughs).
What would you say are your main musical influences?
The Beatles, Radiohead, Jim Hall, Wes Montgomery. Wes represents the soul and the groove—he’s a harmonic genius; Jim Hall represents space and thought. Also Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter, and many contemporary musicians. I try not to get stuck in one era and to keep learning constantly.
What projects are you currently working on?
I slowed down a bit with the arrival of my third child and my teaching work, but now I’m picking up the pace again. I’ve been playing with Loveless, Federico Lechner, Florencia Vega, Chloé (a French singer), Tony Saxs at the Gumbo jams, and Arturo Pueyo.
In recent years, I’ve immersed myself in 1920s jazz, swing, and the roots of the genre. It’s been a very enriching experience and has helped me appreciate even more where this music comes from.
There’s a lot of movement in Madrid right now, isn’t there? Many jam sessions, and a lot of people who like to dance—swing. Many jams are directly connected to dance.
Yes
At Big Mama, many places… at 56, right?
At 55b.
Right. So, thank you very much for your time.
Thank you very much.
Thank you.
April 14th, 2026