Helen Louise Jones is a vocalist & singer songwriter from London. Her appreciation of good music hails from a background of a good primary school music eduction, tap and latin dance, a family in musical theatre and a 80’s teenage soundtrack of jazz funk and new romanticism.

 

A versatile artist and jazz vocalist, her own music is a blend of personal compositions, Jazz and a ,love of Improvisational & World Music.

She studied Jazz and Gospel at Goldsmiths University London and initially sang with the Glenn Miller Band.

She moved to India to sing Jazz for Renaissance in Bombay in 2002.The next year found her jamming on the sun kissed beaches of Goa working with musicians from around the globe and immersing herself in creative improvisational and ’world’ music. “A Musical Dreamscape”.

 

She continued to live and sing in India and Nepal for a number of years…and now lives back in London.

 

Her new project is ‘Citraflection’ a unique London line up reflecting her song writing, musical experience and the collective creative influences and experiences of the ‘amazing’ musicians involved..

 

“It has been a dream for a very long time, to create an international  improvisational band and sound out with London Musicians, reflecting an east west flavour and all our joint musical experiences …..and ultimately to bring musicians from India to join us”

 

Citraflection.Helen Louise Jones,Martin Savale, Michael Timothy, Ben Hazleton, Phillip Bent and Udit Pankhania.

 

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Article from The New York Times. April 2006

 

‘AS a crimson sun sets over the Arabian Sea behind her, the British singer Helen Jones leaps onto the stage of the oceanside Cafe Looda, grabs the microphone and unleashes a fiery anthem to the crowd amassed under the thatched roof of the open-air bar.

 

"There ain't nothing like this in the real world!" she sing-shouts, flinging her strawberry-blond hair as an Indian-British-Iranian backing band called Sattva (Sanskrit for "righteousness") kicks out a wailing funk jam. The beer-drinking throng, which appears to include European rock chicks with nose rings, goateed Israeli beatniks, Australian Green Party voters and a miscellaneous coterie of hipster backpackers in every imaginable type of sandal, nods in rhythm as the music resounds along Anjuna Beach.

"Come to Goa! Change your mind! Change your way!"

 

There ain't nothing like this in the real world. Come to Goa. Change your mind. Change your way. It's hard to imagine a better jingle for this sandy strip of India's western coast, a venerable Catholic-Hindu enclave where American hippies came to turn on, tune in and drop out in the late 1960's, and where globe-trotting spiritual seekers, party kids, flag-wavers of the counterculture and refugees from the real world have fled ever since.

It's a place where the palm trees bear a strange fruit —fliers for crystal therapy, Ayurvedic healing and rave parties — and every road seems to lead to an organic restaurant or massage clinic. At the yoga centers, postures are manipulated by top Indian and international instructors. In clubs, where trance music is the favored genre, D.J.'s carrying myriad passports provide the mix. Bodies receive needle-inked adornments at skin-art parlors; minds seek enlightenment, or at least expansion, at many meditation clinics.’