Perspectives on Time Part II

Going back to the initial idea of my last post which was that our experience of time changes proportionally to our age I'd like to continue to expand on my beleaguered philosophical position of "life=music". If the experience of time changes as we get older it has been my own personal experience that time seems to speed up. It's not that I sleep more, or that I'm that much busier than I was 10 years ago (Sure I wasn't changing poopy diapers but I was wasting my time with the tv or Myspace or wondering if my girlfriend was really that into me, all equally intense to a younger person). It's that my interpretation of a minute, an hour, a day, a year has shifted such that the delineations of units of time themselves, whose numbers I'm beginning to grow tired of counting, are becoming more or less insignificant to the quality of the activities I'm doing during those delineations of time. For example I don't care anymore how long it takes me to do things that are important to me. Conversely I have no desire anymore to waste a second of my life on things that are of no importance to me (I still do though, like when I'm in my car yelling at my gps for giving me bad directions). The net result is that I feel that I just have less time because as I get older it seems more challenging to achieve a quality use of the smaller units of time since they go by so much more quickly.

Time feels linear which is why it seems plausible
that we could travel through it in a vehicle. Just get out
your sled and strap a clock to it!

For sure when I was younger time was not only plentiful but existed in large quantities that were almost intoxicating. My boredom could cause me, with droopy eyelids, to bump into people on the street. I could sit at my desk "studying" for my history exam and count the number of patterns in my 1986 styled wall paper on my bedroom walls with the observant fascination of someone on acid. Maybe it was just hormones. The thing is that I can remember vividly that I almost didn't care what I was doing from one moment to the next as long as it was fun. I resisted, as do most kids, doing things that didn't give me immediate gratification. The whole experience of time itself was slower.

Unfortunately, that particular life skills model had to end when I grew up. Maybe it's one of the things that make us a little nostalgic about our childhoods, the time in our lives when it was all about "fun".  I think now it's still about "fun" but much to my chagrin that "fun" has widened to include the things I care deeply about. I think once we get the taste of things greater than an all afternoon pac-man session fueled by pop-tarts then there is no turning back. For me that taste came when my parents got a piano. I couldn't any longer sit in front of the tv without thinking to myself that there was this piano upstairs, this thing that represented infinite exploration and creativity. I could no longer really get into the "Dukes of Hazard" without wondering what I might be able to experience fooling around (pracitsing?) at the keyboard.

But the problem was that the piano, after a certain point, was time consuming and not always easy. I was blessed with certain natural instincts in so far as my technique was concerned since I was able to, with enough time, accomplish any of the pieces that my teacher would give me. Eventually I completed my grade 10 certificate from the Royal Conservatory of Music, Toronto with first-class honors. Whoopdy-doo. But inevitably as I advanced into more personal and creative musical endeavors my fooling around needed to become full-on practicing or I was simply not going to move ahead. And then I tasted something else. Something new and terrible. I had to do things, and face things in my self, scary things, in order to get that new found taste. Now there was really no turning back because what was once purely play had become both pain and ecstasy in an inseparable tangle of emotions. Time started to pinch me a bit.

Then time took on a whole new dimension. How long would I need to endure the discomfort of practicing, the discipline required to accomplish a goal oriented task, until the point of achievement? How could I cultivate time to reap certain rewards from it? Once something musical had been achieved could I really be happy knowing that there was something else to start on?

Today in my teaching I find questions of this nature to be on the forefront of the minds of almost every serious music student I encounter.  Because in the process of self actualization, the increments are often brutally tiny and sometimes even the smallest incremental growths extracts an enormous price.  Developing as a musician can sometimes feel a lot like trying to fill a whole beach with sand using only a teaspoon. The most common manifestation of this kind of grappling with time for a student is when they indicate to me that they don't want to do something (practicing a transcription for example) for fear of wasting their time. On the one hand they usually feel quite overwhelmed by the enormity of trying to become a jazz musician and yet they also seem to find comfort in that head-space. Somehow the immobilizing fear, the confusion about how to proceed, is a great place to hang-out in because it requires very little effort while at the same time offering certain rewards to the ego (as in the thought "I don't want to transcribe anyone because I want to sound like myself") It also doesn't require the student to take any chances. They don't force themselves to prove that they won't fail at something difficult. Of course it doesn't prove that they can achieve something important either. So it becomes a sort of a state of limbo. The perceived preciousness of time can actually prevent important growth.

The concept of time as it applies to the achieving of goal oriented tasks is slippery. It is slippery because our experience of time seems to indicate that it is something both linear and moving in one direction forward. The fact is that almost nothing about our own internal realities as human beings is linear, all of our thoughts, minds, emotions, hearts, souls whatever your own personal definitions of your internal self is. Music is a result of us using instruments to reflect those internal realities. As such you cannot "achieve" music any more than you can achieve happiness, or love, or concentration. These states are constantly in flux and the most we can do is to let go and flow with them.  For us to feel love we have to allow it into our lives. In order to swing we need to relax and feel it inside our bodies. The mental state of concentration is only achieved when we learn not to be drawn into distracting thoughts. Much of what we're practicing (like technique, vocabulary) will be achieved "with time" or "in time" as the expressions go. But music to me always has a kind of timelessness even if the skills required to play it can be taught and learned in a linear fashion.

Perspectives on Time

What bigger topic in jazz is there but "time"? In many ways it's a prevalent theme in everyone's life because it has such deep implications for our consciousness both in the sense that we experience time passing at different rates of speed depending on the number of years we've been alive and also we experience variances of the quality of time that has passed and that we anticipate to pass in the future. We may, for example, look back on our experience in high school and remember how it seemed it would never end and that we'd always be trapped in an awkward sophomoric existence. And yet now, after years have passed, it really seems that those days actually came and went quite quickly and perhaps we might even have developed a longing to recapture some of the simplicity of that youthful life (although in my own case I believe I had a penchant to create complexity for myself as a youth by confounding with my behavior those who had taken on the chore of raising me!)

"The Persistence of Memory"... Time feels malleable

In jazz music time refers usually to the style of articulation given to the pulse in the music. Usually we discuss a time "feel" because time determines how the music creates the illusory sense of "pulse". It's the spirit and energy that is behind the notes, that make them seem to dance. This is the stuff of dialects and accents and other linguistic conventions that can't be notated but must be experienced. In a sense to "know" the German culture one must inevitably converse with a German and study the language to understand the mind of a German. In the very same way to "know" a swing feel one must study the language of "swing" and converse (or transcribe the masters) with other musicians.  My favorite musicians to study have been Wynton Kelly, Paul Chambers, and Jimmy Cobb. I can't think of a better example of what it means to swing than listening to those guys. And the thing about it is that after having studied them a bit I hear that same swing feel in other more modern groups and musicians. It's like we all experience a strong connection to the past through the "time".

Sure this is a misplaced (and yet very poetic don't you think?) metaphor. That somehow time feel in jazz is linked to the passing of time in external life. Somehow to me what makes sense about it is that I feel close to those musicians who've come before and who exist today and (excuse me while I take another toke...) those who will come after. What is timeless about music links us all. Studying music is a way into the past, present, and future. And in the same way what is timeless about living and being alive also links us together as well. Our families, our ancestors, our children, eating well, living well, being happy, mourning loss...these are all things that have existed since the beginning of our species and perhaps even beyond.

Think back to the era when there was barely any language, everyone was called "Grog" and we basically groped through the forest looking for food, fucking, then sleeping. One day this guy named "Grog" picked up a stick and hit a rotted out old log on the forest floor. It made him feel something different that he had never felt before so he hit it again. And then again. Pretty soon other "Grogs" came over and asked "What you do that, Grog?" So his response what to hit the log again, and again. There was nothing he could say to explain that feeling.  The sound and the pulse generated from repeatedly hitting this low pitched log said everything he couldn't and in that moment music was born.  It has recently become more evident through the archeological discoveries of painting, jewelry, and crafted stone carving that 100,000 years ago we had artists. My guess is that what captivated the evolutionarily young homo sapien's minds and hearts would be exactly the same as what draws us to art today.

All this is to say that "time" as it applies to music and life, for me, is a powerful metaphor, weaving together both of those things. It might even be the source of the "religious epiphany". When I think of my connection to the past through my ancestors it gives me the same heavy feeling as when I hear a group swing like the Wynton Kelly trio or when I hear Mehldau's trio. I don't want to downplay the exceptional nuances that distinguish these great groups from each other but rather I'd like to suggest that the depth of the music we create, just as the depth of life we live has a lot to do with how we see, feel, and hear ourselves in time.

McGill Concert in Tanna Schulich Theater

Thanks to everyone who came to see us play at McGill last Sunday. We had a blast playing for you. Just to clear something up... I wasn't trying to impersonate Barry White on the mic. That was a little gift from the universe that arrived the day before and doctors later called laryngitis.  So despite the pain I was feeling it was great to see so many McGill students.  We'll be recording the music we played on a new trio recording that we'll be making in January so if you liked the music please keep in touch with me for news on its release.

The musical mind of John Taylor

I recently sat down with John Taylor to take a lesson and try and ask as many questions as I could from this great pianist. Now almost 70 John has made a name for himself as one of Europe's most prominent pianists. He's known largely from his sideman work in groups from both North America as well as Europe. However his recent solo piano offerings (Insight, Phases, and Song and Variations) if not widely publicized or marketed have been in the Cd players of many musicians I know. Even some very heavy, non-pianist, musicians have remarked to me without prompting how much they dig those solo piano records. Lots of pianists record solo piano records but what is it about John Taylor's playing that transcends the instrument and attracts the ears of so many musicians?

I have been a fan ever since my days as a Kenny Wheeler maniac transcribing both Kenny's tunes and John's ways of blowing on them. One of Kenny's recent bands including Chris Potter and Dave Holland has toured several times in North America where we were treated to Kenny's new music including (in their live concerts only) a great straight-up blues tune by Dave Holland (the title escapes me) At the concert in Montreal in 2005 listening to John take a mammoth solo on the blues (recorded by CBC on one of the last years of JazzBeat...yes I recorded the concert off the radio so I'll listen again to hear what the title of the Dave Holland tune was) I was struck by how much of Herbie's influence I heard in John's playing. I remember at the concert feeling that all of a sudden the pieces of my appreciation for John Taylor came together. It really made sense that John Taylor was coming from such a grounded place within Jazz. It came then as no surprise to me when during our lesson it came up that Taylor was in Ronnie Scott's house band in London for 15 years. There he played with all the greats from both Europe and North America including some musicians very much grounded in the jazz tradition and language as Joe Henderson and Freddie Hubbard.

Among other things I asked John what he was working on and he showed me this little tidbit. On of his students has been incorporating some of the sounds that the French composer Messiaen used particularly his voicing of chords from the octatonic scale. John played me some left hand voicings that he's been using.

Piano Voicings V

For my next installment on basic jazz piano voicings I've decided to include a simple way of looking at using chords voiced in fourths. Everybody quickly recognizes this sound and some of the greats who started using this sound exclusively back in the '60s include Chick Corea and McCoy Tyner. However the sound goes as far back as Bud Powell, George Shearing, and Dave Brubeck. Examples from the former abound but examples from the latter provide an interesting evolution of the jazz piano sound from the shell voicings of the swing era to the more modern sounds in the post-bop era. One record in particular which spans this gap is Brubeck's first solo piano record "Brubeck Plays Brubeck". While not of the same caliber of sophistication as some of the other solo pianists of his generation this record offers an interesting first recording of some of Brubeck's famous tunes like "In Your Own Sweet Way" and "The Duke". At the same time it shows the development of jazz piano out of the bebop era into more modern territory.  I've included a little exercise which if practiced in 12 keys will complement the sound of the shell voicings (See my early posts "Jazz piano voicings I-IV) Have fun.

Is there a jam session etiquette?

It is a relatively rare thing for me to go to a jam session. I don't have anything against them. I recently played with some really great students in Montreal at a jam session and we all had a great time. I love the hang both musically and personally with musicians especially students who I only see around McGill. I guess it's just hard to get out of the house with a 2 year old at home or some lame excuse like that. The truth is I was really grateful to get the chance this summer to get out to see some of the jamming both here in Montreal and in Ottawa during the jazz festivals. A couple of summers ago I played with Julian Lange, a young guitarist from the states. I also got to play with Bill Evans who was touring with his Bluegrass band and I still remember the amazing experience I had sitting in with both Bill and his band. They weren't primarily jazz players but jamming on tunes was still an effortless and truly enjoyable experience.

"Yo mang, I got some
chit to play ya"

At their best jam sessions are really about unwinding and letting it all hang out. Like shooting the breeze with people at a party it doesn't seem to matter who knows each other if the attitude of openness and positivity is there. Sometimes nothing spectacular is discussed but then sometimes (often unexpectedly) we encounter someone we realize we can really share ourselves with. I remember recently at a dinner party I ended up chatting with the elderly mother of a mutual friend. I had never met her before but I remember being entirely engaged and enchanted with this person to the point where I couldn't remember having ever laughed that hard in my life. The age difference between us was so great that if I had the opportunity at the beginning of the evening of choosing who I was going to hang with I never would have picked this person. And yet there we were cracking each other up with our conversation and patting each other on the back like drinking buddies. It must have been quite a sight.

I really relate my own understanding of what jam session are about to this experience. I have been in situations on stage with musicians from all kinds of different ages and musical backgrounds and have had really heavy musical experiences. Sometimes I've been jamming with players and nothing really gets off the ground but we still hang and have a good time. I just can't understand musicians who give up the opportunity to take that chance and hang with people they may have just met and instead play what amounts to be a showcase with their own band. It would be like showing up at a party with my posse and refusing to converse with anyone else but the people I came in with.  I was pretty taken aback by how many touring musicians I saw doing this at the jam sessions in Ottawa and Montreal this year. The worst example was watching a certain well-known young pianist (records on Blue note etc) sit in on drums and literally run the poor band down with his playing. I guess he wanted to practice his "shit" or something. But when it came time to play his primary instrument he brought up his trio to accompany him. For sure they sounded great. They brought the house down. The people there were getting another taste of his concert and for free. But I couldn't help but think to myself "ok but what do you sound like with other guys?" My guess is that from experience he knew his bag wouldn't hang well with other players. And what does that say about a jazz musician, I wonder, if they don't like taking chances with other musicians?

So back to my question : "Is there an etiquette at a jam session?" Are you there to hang with musicians who, for better or worse like the mortal human beings we all are, might not allow you to get off the way you know you can with your band? Or are you there to give up your own agenda and be curious about what what life could offer you when you're willing to take a chance and really let it hang out?  For me these choices say a lot about what I find interesting in the people that I want to hang with and I'm really perplexed when I see musicians generally credited with playing daring and innovative jazz but are unwilling to take part in one of jazz's most enduring and edifying experiences. Life's a funny thing because you never really know who you're going to connect with. And when it happens, for me, that's what gives life and music its magic.

A personal post

Hi folks...that is if any of you are still around despite my lack of posts in the past few months. I guess the good thing about reading blogs is that there are so many out there. It seems that there are always good posts from someone, somewhere to read...about something. One of my own personal favorites is Peter Hum's great blog of opinions and reviews (please see my blog role). And of course Ethan Iverson's seminal and mind blowing blog "Do the Math". Honestly I think if there is anything that could potentially influence the contemporary jazz community in terms of insight into the lineage of the music from incredible interviews and discussions on philosophy and aesthetics it could very well be this blog. I'm not a big fan of the Bad Plus and I'm even shocked by the depth of influence from the past that Ethan claims to have. I must say from what I've heard I don't hear the influence on his playing from James P. Johnson's "Carolina Shout" which he states is mandatory for all jazz pianists to study. He makes some really funny statements about music (he loves "Chariots of Fire" and refuses to concede that he's making an attempt at humor by performing it with his trio) but his interviews really unlock true insight into music, improvised music, and the musicians who make jazz.

This isn't supposed to be a review of anyone's blog. I'm mostly just reaching out and hoping there may still be some hanger's-on to my humble blog. So what have I been up to? I've moved to a new home this month. 2 days later my wife and I embarked on a family mission to Korea (where she's from) to reconnect with her biological mother's family, sadly, on the occasion of her death. This was a really intense trip for us and one that has left us changed people. It was a trip that I think detailed to me, in ways that I have never really thought about before, the unfortunate potential for waste in one's life. It made me realize how quickly time won't wait for you to get your shit together and figure out what is really important. I've sat on a Canada Council jury for the first time (can't say which one yet) and that has really been inspiring for me to hear what the great musicians have been up to. Since I'm not on Facebook I suppose that I have to get on a Canada Council jury to get reconnected to the musicians around our country (I don't know...does that even happen on Facebook?) I'm really kicked in the behind to get back to my work at the piano and with my own writing as a result of this experience. I'm also a hell of a lot savvier about the process of getting grants through our grant system here in Canada. I must say that I have been pretty lucky thus far so I've never had any complaints about the Canada Council or the way in which we've distributed public funding for individual artists. I've received several grants for my own writing projects, for living in New York and taking some great lessons with Kenny Werner, for recording my record 3 years ago (I hate it now, haha), and especially for my touring opportunities as a leader. I've always been of the mind that this system seems to work out for everyone in the long run and it makes me really celebrate our country and it's attitude towards the arts, even if that attitude has evolved over the years. I think if any Canadian independent jazz musician wants to feel good about their career they should just talk to some of their counterparts south of the border.

This isn't supposed to be a review of the state of arts funding in Canada either. Anyway I'd just like to say that I haven't given up blogging just yet and that I've already been planning some juicy posts which will include more of a focus on jazz piano for the upcoming year. Also I've discontinued the comments to non-subscribers. It's not that I want to limit anyone's comments but I've just been getting too much spam in the form of commenters recently. I must say though I'm really impressed by the tenacity of the sex industry in Tawain. Ni-How and have a great day!