To celebrate, here is a track I really, really like by my friend Will. I am mixing it for my “Reproduction of Sound” final, so let me know how it sounds to you.

Will Wulfeck: Bass, Vocals, Composition

Brice Albert: Guitar

Me: Drums/Mixing

Much of what was said seemed aimed at young students struggling to find their way with music. What I got most out of it was Black’s approach to preparation, which is badly paraphrased below:

The only preparation I really do is when I have to overcome some physical limitation in order to play a piece of music. And even then, it might only be five minutes before downbeat here or there. For the most part I try to stay away from the instrument unless I’m making music with other people. I stopped practicing that way 15 years ago, because you play what you hear. You play what you are. I have gone months without touching the drums, and the next time I sit down and I’ll have improved just through listening and living and experiencing things away from my instrument.

In other news, I’m participating in a fairly good discussion in the comments section of this article over at A Blog Supreme. The subject is a new study that aims to uncover how jazz musicians get paid. I have been wondering the same thing for years. I’ll take this opportunity to once again declare my belief that taking free gigs undercuts everyone who attempts to play music professionally, even though I am guilty of it myself. Increasingly, players seem to have adopted an attitude of resignation, as if playing free gigs was the only way to play at all.

I am having a short article published in the November issue of Percussive Notes on how to put together an electronic press kit. I am working on a piece for Aaron’s nonet, and it’s driving me bonkers. Speaking of bonkers, I spent the weekend without my computer, but now have an adapter cable again. I think the worst is over. It was dark times. I wrote about my experience at #occupyLA here. I’ll be posting a photo essay within the hour on good meals I’ve eaten recently, if you’re into that kind of thing. Later this week I’ll be posting an interesting practice concept for drummers/nerds on this blog. Excuse me, I have to drink a lot of coffee now.

Classes are also rolling along smoothly. I aimed to diversify a bit this year, so I’m taking “Reproduction Of Sound” (music technology introduction with a focus on Ableton), “Web Development for Musicians,” Larry Koonse‘s faculty ensemble, and “Contemporary Aesthetic Theory.” CAT is fantastic–keeping me on my toes with lots of reading, plus a once a week class involving three hours of straight philosophical discussion.

Some other things:

• Aaron has posted a definitive guide to discovering Mary Halvorson.
• AJ has posted his recent Dick’s Den gig in its entirety.
• Oscilot has a new track up.
• In case you missed it, I started a small magazine. The blog has expanded since it launched about a month ago; we have a diverse set of articles up, and the first print issue is in production.  Please consider any one of the following actions w/r/t this: read, support, submit, comment, share.
• I will be presenting my literature review on jazz marketing at the upcoming Jazz Education Network conference in Louisville, KY. More updates on this, as well as the paper in full, will be posted here later on.

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.

A thought recently posed to me is that music therapy is music without the ego–that music therapy is the pursuance of what music can do for others, rather than an elusive quest for self-fulfillment.  I could do nothing but laugh at such a biased statement, a bias with which I would normally be inclined to agree.  However, although I may believe that certain careers within music are more predisposed to the crusade of musical diaspora, I want to believe that all musicians are on this journey.  That is to say that I believe all musicians want their music to do good for other humans.

For far too long, music–particularly that which is labeled as artistic–has been stifled by elitism, propelled equally by the perception of a slothful society and intellectuals drunk off quixotry.  Unfortunately, those musicians who believe they are preserving an art or paying homage to previous composers or performers are not yet extinct.  These are the individuals who believe that art moves forward by stressing a preservation of what has been done.  Imagine the haphazard navigation of a new place while constantly looking over one’s shoulder.  It strains potential.  It creates unnecessary challenges.  It festers inefficiency.  It just. does not. work.

How then do we find our way of paying it forward, of spreading the value of music to others?  For those of us who have dedicated the better parts of our musical careers to art music, what do we do?  How do we do something new?  Do we stand a chance at inspiring a most idealistic resurrection?  Can we catapult art music to new heights?  As the emerging musical generation before whom “everything has been done,” we must re-evaluate what has been missing, what is needed, and/or what we can stand to contribute.   That, my friends, is intent.

Anyone as much as an art music hobbyist at one point or another in his/her life has felt from music.  I mean really felt, as if the music permeated the body and took hold of something deep just to remold it.  Deny it up and down, but it is the quest to re-experience this that keeps all of us going.  We may spend the rest of our lives searching for that feeling again, that presence and permission to just be with music.  Whether or not we find it is insignificant, because even if we do, we seek it again and again.  And this is where things begin to go awry.

Rather than a replication of the experience, we should be seeking to catalyze this experience in others.  This is how people come to love music – through authentic, intentional connection.  It is not by learning a set of skills specific to an instrument, hearing something that is beautiful, or writing one’s own piece of music.  All of these are done merely to find that connection, the one that made us feel unmistakably yet gratefully human.  Yes, this connection may be primarily to the music, but that music would not exist in its viscerally evocative state without the authenticity and intentionality of its creators.

Music is a living art, one that exists only with the breath and pulse of humans.  Therefore, its existence depends solely on our intention in giving it life.  If we as musicians intend to pay homage to a composer or performer or exercise our own artistic brawn, we have done nothing but become curators in the museum of music.  When our music has the intention of inspiring life and feeling in others, then we have done our job.  In this model, music becomes a vessel for human connection.  And really, what other reason is there to play music?

2. New on Aaron’s blog: What he’s listening to, and analysis of one of his tunes.

3. MOO!

4. Last month I had a lunch meeting with my undergraduate professor, the current executive director of the Jazz Arts Group, in which we discussed some of the preliminary findings from the large research project they have undertaken to study jazz audiences. Recently, Howard Mandel and A Blog Supreme have weighed in on some of those findings, and while I would normally be inclined to throw my own opinion into the mix, I’m going to postpone that a bit since the small amount of research I’m doing is related to this area. What I’ll say now is that the most encouraging aspect of this study seems to be its acknowledgement of the diversity of styles housed under the term “jazz” and the diversity of the audience members for those styles. Here at last is one study that doesn’t just advocate “education” to increase attendance, as so many symphonies have, but a combination of attacks on multiple fronts, including the ticketed, seated theater and the standing room club alike.

5. This week ABS asked, “Does A Jazz Critic Have To Be A Jazz Musician, Too?” The answer here is clearly “no,” but it also happens that most critics tend to be musicians themselves. To me what’s interesting about this question is not whether one must be a musician to review jazz, but rather what the few non-musician critics can do to bridge the gap between those who play and those who don’t. I am absolutely convinced that this music isn’t just for musicians, and Jarenwattananon’s reminder to reach out to non-musicians is a crucial one.

6. As for me, I’m working on all of the things I put off all summer. I take the GRE in one week, and two days or so later I head back west for round two. I never could have anticipated how much my relationship to music (and therefore myself) would change in the past year. Who knows what will happen this time around. I’ve got a few plans, though, and I’ll be keeping you posted.

7. Guest post this week…stay tuned.

• I’ll be sad to miss this, but if you’re in LA you shouldn’t.
• Download Mike’s album. It is, as they say, LeGood.
• Josh, Alex, and Aaron updated recently.
• Finally, Aaron has begun uploading videos from our adventure in Chicago. Soon, everything will be uploaded. For now, here are two that Aaron and I wrote:
  

You can read about the magazine here, and I hope you do. Even if it goes out to five people, we are putting a lot of love into it.

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Facebook is here.