Arranging a Standard

I'd like to build on some of the techniques of harmonization from my previous post where I demonstrated a simple way to harmonize a melody using 3 or 4 notes. This technique obviously lends itself well to the piano but it is also a departure point for writing for other instruments. The following is an arrangement of the Jerome Kern standard "I'm Old Fashioned" in which I used 3 and 4 note piano voicings to get outside of the original harmony and create an arrangement for 3 horns.

First let me say that this kind of writing must come from an understanding of traditional jazz voice leading. I say this because it is essentially an "ears first" approach to adding harmony to a standard and the danger is for it to sound so arbitrary that the original tune is completely lost. It is difficult to replace tonal chord progressions with chromatic or modal harmony without an ingrained sense of the "purpose" or "direction" of the original tonal harmony. By this I mean that a cadence such as II-V7-I has a purpose in that it leads the harmony in a specific direction. In replacing the original tonal harmony I believe that one needs to try to keep the feeling of the original harmony (here "feeling" is pretty broad and probably entails an infinite number of possibilities). If the arrangement is so far flung from the original tune that one can't get the sense that the arranger is "playing" with that tune, (stretching it, morphing it, playing with our expectations) then it begs the question why arrange this tune? Why not just compose something new?


One rule of thumb is to keep the melody intact and only change the rhythm or phrasing of it. For me this always suggests interesting directions for the harmony to take. Even if the harmony changes quite a bit as it does here I try not to over power the melody so that a sense of the original tune can still come through.

Also in this arrangement I used a common devise called a "tag". Basically that is extra bars at the end of the tune which kind of stretches it out a bit and takes it in a different direction briefly. In this case it modernizes the tune by introducing the feeling of a vamp. A tag also needs to have a natural connection to the standard so it's best to build it out of something in the body of the arrangement. I took the idea for the tag from measures 17-18 when I was working on the A section. These chords sounded like they stood on their own (they certainly stand OUT from the tune) and they quickly inspired me to build a vamp out of them. Unusual about the vamp however is the 3 bar phrases.

In addition to triads and seventh chord voicings there are also quartal voicings. Quartal refers to the interval of a 4th so that can include also the augmented 4th and diminished 5th in combination with a perfect 4th. Notice how the quartal voicings are especially interesting when the melody repeats the same note (mm 29-32) as the original melody does at the beginning of the bridge. The voices however are free to move under the melody and create some interesting dissonances which are completely chromatic and not tonal. This is often referred to as oblique motion.

Here is a version from a recording I made with 3 horns.

Work HARD not LONG

"Hurry....hurry....hurry harrrrrrrrrrd"

Anyone watch curling?

One of the themes of my blog XY...Jazz is information versus knowledge. In the context of being an improvising musician this means what comes out in one's soloing is what one has learned, what one currently knows.  Where I have been critical in the past of institutionalized jazz education is in its emphasis on the dissemination of information to the detriment of acquiring the skills which make that information become knowledge. It's actually not just jazz education I have a beef with.  For example can you remember what you crammed into your head back in high school for your exams? Probably a little but what you do remember is most likely still in use in your current day to day existence. That's not to say that there aren't great teachers who understand that this is an important issue when it comes to the nuances of language play in jazz improvisation. It's just that the way the system is set up a university or college wants to see just how much one can stuff into their heads in 3 or 4 years because that is testable. It is far more difficult to test a student's ability to improvise with depth and facility.

Or is it? What if, for example, instead of learning 15 tunes in one semester for a jury a student was expected to learn 3 new tunes and that's all. Ok so that's just not as fun but let's continue this thought experiment anyway. Suppose students were expected to become masters on 3 really important tunes before they went on to develop their repertoire. Say, for example, they had to learn the Blues, Rhythm changes, and Body & Soul by listening and memorizing great recordings and solos of these tunes. They would need to learn alternate chord changes, how to comp through the tunes on the piano. Horns players would write out solos, and pianists/guitarist would write out voicings and comping patterns. Etc... I think you get the point. When I was 18 I for sure would have found it unpleasant to stick to 3 tunes for such a long time.

But let me ask this: how much fun is it for a first year jazz university student to play "rhythm changes" or "Body and Soul"? Or even a major Blues (I love how some people say "just a blues" as if playing the blues is like falling off a pick-up truck) In my experience it isn't very fun for them. In fact as their juries begin to loom somewhere around February the fun stops and they get pretty stressed out by these tunes. What’s worse is that the cursory, half-assed work they get done on the tunes kind of taints them and leaves a bad impression of the music. Once a student remarked to me that the transition out of the bridge on Body & Soul sounded cheesy. I had to agree with him because what he was playing there did sound cheesy!

Or perhaps how about applying this idea to licks as a way of building vocabulary. I always found it odd as a student myself that the licks I learned out of a book and practiced as bits of jazz "information" wouldn't come out naturally in my soloing whereas the licks which would come out were usually material that I hadn't even transcribed or thought about that much but had somehow internalized from listening to albums.  The un-transcribed and not practiced licks were also shorter and simpler than the hip 4 bar II-V-I "information" lines that I tried to learn from a text book. They were instead 4 or 5 notes that would simply express, say, a dominant sound the way that Wynton Kelly did. These shorter licks felt better rhythmically and also seemed to connect with my other ideas more naturally. They weren't complex or impressive but somehow I owned them because they were simple enough to be entirely deconstructed in my mind and I could easily play with them when I was improvising.

The 3 tunes I mentioned above (insert the word "just" wherever you like) are HARD!!!! Why do we still listen to Coleman Hawkins blowing lines on Body and Soul from way back in 1939? Because this song is deep and presents an infinite education on harmony and melody. These songs are both simple and sophisticated and negotiating one's way through the changes requires a lot of study to sound convincing on them. Why not spend all of one's practice in first year on these 3 tunes if they represent a clear and comprehensive basis for jazz harmony, voice-leading, melodic construction and phrasing? Every jazz musician returns time and again to this repertoire throughout their lives as a way to touch base with the foundational aspects of making jazz music. It is a sign of musical maturity when a jazz musician can eventually speak with their own voice using this repertoire.

So when I say practice hard what I mean is practice the fundamentals. It isn’t realistic to expect a young player to really get themselves stuck on 3 tunes for a semester but it is a formative time when learning the skills of mastery can really leave a lasting impression. Sometimes the hardest things are often the simplest ones and understanding them can be one of the most rewarding things about playing music.  

Basic harmonization with triads and Seventh chords

For me this style of arranging is sort of the meat and potatoes of jazz piano. The goal is to get a full sound on the instrument while at the same time not sacrificing the time feel with the technique required to play the arrangement. Obviously you can point out to me the fact that guys like Tatum or Phineas Newborn or James P. Johnson played exceedingly difficult passages at the piano and made them swing. In my arrangement for solo piano I'm offering a taste of the kind of harmony and voicings that those great pianists utilized as a basis from which they constructed more complex architectures. Aside from the basic triadic and seventh chord harmony (with appropriate altered extensions where necessary sprinkled in for flavor) is the use of the counter line. This is another essential aspect of arranging for piano in order to really use the instrument to it's fullest. Notice how the basic triplet rhythm is always propelling the harmony forward and the counter line is picking up the slack in the gaps in the melody. All great composers leave delicious gaps in their melodies. Most Ellington melodies have these wonderful places for us to add our little dreams to.  In bar 8 I left out the triplet counter melody just for a little extra space and perhaps a good place for a foot tap or if you're Keith Jarrett (and I'm pretty sure he reads my blog) you can give the pedals a good kick! Have fun.

Perspectives on Time IV

This was just so freaky I had to post it. Thanks to Ronan Guilfoyle for putting this up. I think it makes a poignant completion for my series entitled "Perspectives on Time. Watch how these metronomes are able to "listen" when they are able to feel the actual vibrations of each other.

What Makes Music Expressive

I was really interested to see in the NY Times today (online edition) an article by Dan Levitin called "What Makes Music Expressive. Dan is the author of "Your Brain on Music" and runs the Laboratory for Musical Perception, Cognition, and Expertise at McGill University. I guess that makes him a neuroscientist. Where in the past I had never really found the types of explanations for the musical "experience" offered by neuroscientists to be very rewarding, Dan's book was different. First of all before becoming a neuroscientist he worked as a session musician, sound engineer, and record producer. According to his bio he's worked with a diverse array of artists including Stevie Wonder and Blue Oyster Cult. (more cowbell anyone?...) Before reading his book I actually didn't know anything about him other than the fact that he works in the same building as me and that he had already a fairly high profile when he joined the faculty at McGill. I did get into most of his book right away and many of his ideas and experiments have really piqued my own interest in the goings-on of the musician's brain. I guess it didn't surprise me when I found out that he had in fact this background as a musician which I think really grounds the research he does. I think the common ground here is that musicians are also intensely interested in the effects of music on the brain but we conduct our research using musical instruments and would prefer not to talk too much on the side. I liked this article because it demonstrates musical perceptions without too much talking. In a sense it lets the effect of music inside our own minds do the talking. Very cool. Enjoy!

http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2011/04/18/science/20110419-music-expression.html

Click here for the full article/interview with Dan Levitin

Montreal Musicians III: Kevin Dean, Al McLean, Mike Rud

What can I say about these guys who I've known virtually my whole musical life? The soul, swing, and spirit that they exude each time they play is truly an inspiration for me everytime I hear them. I guess it's lucky there is this nice video shot of the three of them together.

Playing, Talking, Role Models and More by Chris Donnelly

The following text was written by the pianist Chris Donnelly as a guest contributer to this blog. I'm glad someone is picking up the slack around here. But seriously follow the links below and please check out his outstanding blog and solo piano records...




Playing, Talking, Role Models and More

Something occurred to me the other day.

If you recorded and analyzed how I spend time during lessons, you would see that most time is spent talking and discussing.  Very little time is spent playing.

When I compare this to how my university piano teachers conducted my lessons, the observations are the same: lots of talking and less playing.

I know this isn’t the norm for all teachers, but considering my own university experience, and the nature of teaching music in academic settings, I think this is also an issue outside of my own private studio too.  We should be more mindful; the consequences run deep.  They’re at the heart of every student/teacher relationship and the cultivation of healthy learning environments.

When I write “playing”, I’m referring to any time the student and/or the teacher are physically playing music.  The student could be playing what he/she has been working on, the teacher could be demonstrating, the teacher could be performing, or the student and the teacher could be playing together.

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with talking and discussing.  But sometimes students need different inputs.

It may not be enough to simply say: “A G7 is G-B-D-F.”  Students may also need to hear the sound of G7, or feel a G7 on their instrument.  The sound, sight and feel of a G7 being played can fill expressive gaps left behind from talking.  Through playing, the connection is strengthened; the metaphor is enriched.

But playing has an even more important function.

Consider this:

Last year, I lost a contest to Keith Jarrett.  We were competing to make a point with my student. I got to the student first, but she was unconvinced when I tried to pass on this lesson.  A few days later, she heard Keith say the exact same thing and “Eureka!” – she got it.

Keith convinced her because he’s the stronger role model.  She grew up listening to his records, listening to him play.

On the other hand, if my student had grown up listening to Chris Donnelly, the outcome may have been different.  In fact, I’m sure my student hadn’t even heard of Chris Donnelly until she began studies at UofT.  Our relationship began with talking, not playing.

This is a problem.

The Importance of Role Models

Having role models is important for optimal learning. I wouldn’t be a jazz pianist today if it wasn’t for my first jazz teacher, Anthony Panacci.  Anthony played for me in every lesson.  We played together in every lesson.  I was nine.  He was my hero.  He established this role model dynamic through playing, not talking.

I may have become a classical pianist, but my teachers never played for me, ever.  Lessons weren’t as much fun as jazz lessons; too much talking, not enough playing.  I didn’t have role models in the classical world.

Everyone has superstar role models like Oscar and Keith, but generally, such artists are inaccessible.   It’s not enough to listen to their records and hear them play once a year when they’re passing through town.  Students need to see and hear their role models play frequently; they need to speak with them; they need to study with them; they need to live with them.

This is important: The proliferation of artists, art and arts education is dependent on role models on every level.  Every point on a hierarchy of accessibility should be filled with role models, from teachers in pre-schools, to professional musicians, and to beacon fires like Keith Jarrett.

Maybe you’ve heard of Anthony Panacci, maybe you haven’t.  What matters is that an artist like Anthony – someone who doesn’t have Keith Jarrett’s fame – can make all the difference.

The Importance of Playing

“Chris Donnelly is a professor at the University of Toronto.”  For some, this looks like quite the distinction.  But in the jazz world…*yawn*…who cares?  Can Chris Donnelly actually play!?

Playing is the best way for artists to assert their experience.  Listening is the best way to measure it.  Unless your specialty is public speaking, no amount of talking can equal the value of playing and doing.

The strongest role model relationships are developed first through playing.  Hearing them speak can be a bonus, but it can also be disappointing.  We don’t listen to our role models speak because they’re good speakers.

The Problem

As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, I’m becoming more mindful of the function and importance of playing.  The role model dynamic depends more on playing than on talking and discussing.

But here we are, students and teachers, in formal academic settings, talking and discussing!

In addition to this, not one of my students attended my CD release in March. In fact, I’ve never seen any of my students at my performances. They don’t hear me play!  This is part of the problem.

I’ll grant that it’s becoming more difficult, with the shortage of performance venues, to hear me (and other musicians) perform live – this is also part of the problem – but we cannot let this unfortunate circumstance disrupt the role model dynamic.

Then again, why would my student want to hear Chris Donnelly play?  Who’s Chris Donnelly anyway!?

I currently have a student from Regina, Saskatchewan; I’ve never performed in Regina before.  I doubt anybody in Regina even owns a Chris Donnelly record.  My student was more likely to hear Keith Jarrett’s music than Chris Donnelly’s.  So it’s unfair to put sole blame on the student; he’s never had the opportunity to hear me play and the role model dynamic hasn’t had the opportunity to take hold.

But this student has traveled across the country and is now studying with Chris Donnelly; he should, in principle, be interested in my music.  It’s a cyclical argument, with deeper issues at play.

Solutions for Students:

Hopefully you understand, I’m using my name merely as an example to demonstrate the issues; this isn’t a cynical rant.  I’m actually optimistic about the future – I believe it boils down to playing and reinforcing the role model dynamic.

For students, here’s the thing: I’m teaching at the University of Toronto. I can play.  My fellow faculty members at UofT, my faculty cousins at McGill and elsewhere can all play too.  You should be milking every last note from our music.  If you’re not enthusiastic about our music, you shouldn’t be studying with us!  You should be studying with your role models.

I can’t tell you who your role models should be, but I can tell you that you need them for every stage of your life, for everything you want to accomplish.

I can also tell you that local artists are underappreciated.  But compared to the superstars, they’re equally talented, equally deserving of recognition, and equally vital to the proliferation of artists and art.

Figure out who your local heroes are and seek access to them.

Solutions for Teachers, Performers and Artists:

Play’s the thing.

Here’s another point: You’re not a messenger; you’re the message.

Sometimes during lessons, I make note to play and talk only about my music.  “This is what I’m working on, this is one of my tunes, this is how I composed it, and this is what it sounds like.”  I have not yet implemented this approach, but it would be valuable for my students to transcribe my solos, learn my tunes and perform them.

Ultimately, when I talk or play, I’m communicating information about me.  Of course, I’ll play/talk about Monk, Bach and John Taylor, but really, any idea I communicate and put to use at this instant is nothing but a reflection of me and a reflection on now.

A community with a solid role model dynamic doesn’t need to worry about “teaching tradition.”  That will happen naturally. Learning about tradition is inherent in studying with role models.

We’re more than a lecturer; we’re living the music as our role models were.

Be the message.

- - - -

One last point: This problem encroaches on deeper issues with art, education and society.

If students are traveling across this massive country to study with artists they’ve never heard of, the problem extends to the function and efficiency of music institutions.

It extends further: Celebrating international superstars, while neglecting or exploiting local artists, is part of the problem.  Conversely, celebrating local artists, but presenting narrow incomplete programming, is part of the problem too.

Anytime art is distributed through concerts, performance venues, festivals, radio broadcasts, magazines, newspapers, blogs, recordings, and the like, the role model dynamic between audiences and artists is initiated.  This should be done responsibly.

As I’ve said twice already, the proliferation of artists, art and arts education is dependent on role models on every level.  The distribution of art should reflect this.

The entire community should reflect this!

- - -

Thanks for reading!  And thanks to Josh Rager for sharing this space on his blog. It’s a pleasure to write for new readers.  Please comment and share!

(Chris Donnelly is a pianist, composer and improviser from Toronto, Canada.  He teaches at the University of Toronto and blogs regularly at www.chrisdonnellymusic.com<http://www.chrisdonnellymusic.com/Blog/Blog.php>).