She wore her hair in a short, dark bob. Her lipstick was bright red. After she sang a few sultry tunes, I approached her at the lively celebration with a delegation from Tours, France, and asked: "Are you sure you're not French?"
Christine Rosholt laughed, then did what she was famous for. She made me feel like I was the most interesting person in the world. She said she'd "friend" me on Facebook, which she did the next day. (I joined about 1,000 other friends and still felt rich.) Like so many others, I was eager to follow her rapidly ascending vocal career as it shifted from jazz to a new path in pop.
I wanted to write about her. But not like this.
Rosholt's considerable contributions will be center-stage Tuesday from 7 to 11 p.m. at the Dakota Jazz Club in Minneapolis. That Rosholt took her life Dec. 28, one week before her 47th birthday, is an ache that legions of friends and fans will carry for a long time. But the Dakota event is a celebration.
"Everybody wants a chance to honor Christine," said pianist and friend Tanner Taylor, the event's organizer. "There's been such a great outpouring from all the local musicians."
Andrea Canter, a contributing editor to jazzpolice.com, first heard Rosholt sing in 2004 at the Dakota, and enjoyed following the charismatic singer's substantial growth. "She was self-taught," Canter said, and an incredibly hard worker.
"She took lessons, and found lots of ways to work on her voice and to explore her repertoire. She was a jazz scholar, too. She also went after the business end of things, finding herself gigs. She was not above taking anything. She really wanted to work."
And she always paid her musicians first.