Steve Coleman In Class

Phew. I really thought I was done there for a minute. Looks like I still have a little gas left after all.

Yesterday Steve Coleman drove down from Monterey with Jim Black, Matt Brewer, and Jonathan Finlayson for a session at CalArts. After some discussion on how the band got together (they claimed that this was only the second time this configuration of members had played together, literally, the first time being their set at Monterey) the band launched into an extended improvisation that consisted of three or four “pieces.”

The music itself was truly the kind of thing achievable only by those on a high level of musicianship, the kind of improvisatory dialogue that would ramble on in less capable hands, but which remained consistently vital and exciting here. Coleman’s approach for this band is based on small cells–repeated, improvised motives–that are expanded into song forms. The entire set was freely improvised, but due to this expansion of small motives, Coleman declines to think of it as “free” playing. Indeed, the motives presented yesterday were introduced, expanded, thrown from band member to band member, completely destroyed, and often returned to, all of which gave structure and unity to the music.

At one point in what could be called the second piece, Coleman seemed to naturally gravitate towards the melody of Chega de Saudade. Throughout the tune, sometimes after fits of fierce improvisation, the melody would return from nowhere, spliced up into different pieces. It took a good ten minutes of blowing before the bridge was heard in any form. Pieces of the melody were played a little at a time, interspersed with improvisations, a constant back and forth between unity and counterpoint.

Drummer Jim Black is always inspiring to see; he does to a backbeat what Elvin did to swing. Most of what was played was in time, but at times it was barely so, as Black’s metric modulations and constant orchestration kept the pulse unsettled and groovy at once.

In spite of one major complaint[1], the music really brought into focus the reason why seeing live jazz is still so powerful and important. In a context such as this, it is easy to remember how exciting spontaneous music, when this expertly played, can be.

Most of the talking that was done can be broken down into two sections: the life lessons and the musical ones.

In the first category, several themes emerged:

1. Response to the times as a catalyst for change: when asked what compels Coleman to change his musical approach, as he so often does, he explained that it is usually in response to the “energy of the moment” (be it a month to month change, or the energy of a particular decade). “Things feel different now than they did in the 60s, and they will probably feel different again in a few months.”
2. Professionalism as rehearsal: while the music you make with no rehearsals is a surprise, the level of musicianship should not be.
3. Members of the band were continually stressed as the more important musical consideration than the material played, or anything else.
4. Preparation for spontaneous music must be un-spontaneous, diligent.
5. Playing with older musicians as the most effective learning method. Apprenticeship system was continually emphasized.

On the musical side of things, Coleman basically stuck to one topic, which was hearing what the other musicians were doing and being able to find a place no matter how complex their idea. To illustrate this, Coleman chose the last motive from the improvised set that they just finished playing. This was in 7/4. While singing the lick, he clapped a rhythm in four underneath it, beginning on what I believe was the “and” of two. The cycle ended up taking several revolutions before it resolved, and was made even more difficult when the rhythm Coleman clapped became a rumba clave. For Coleman to have made this up on the spot illustrates his mastery of hearing, his ability to listen, understand and respond with meaning.