Jazz Loft Project

Thursday evening 2 June 2011

Nasher Museum of Art in Durham

Walked through the Jazz Loft Project exhibition and here is what I enjoyed the black & whiteness of the images which somehow romanticizes a period of life particularly when it is NYC which resonates for me though the period of these photos began the year I was born that there was a jazz loft a place for music for exploration and practice and out of that emerged community and connection then the photos of Monk whose music speaks to me as he pushed the edges of melody and harmony and rhythm without exiting the realm of form, of sense of place and speaking of place there’s the window of 821 Sixth Avenue which often called to Gene Smith as he established residence in this building away from his wife and kids and documented this community visually and aurally the window was the path provided the path for him between an extraordinary musical world and the world below on the avenue, filled with one moment followed by the next each and all worthy of attention to have immersed himself so completely into this microcosm of existence was extraordinary and we are the beneficiaries of his devotional embrace of this period of time

There but for the grace of whoever or whatever or however…

thoughts about the role of artists in times of immense challenge

It is a time like this one

when planetary plates shift violently, with no warning

or when oceans rise up with overwhelming waves

or when hurricanes and typhoons fiercely sweep across the lands

It is when our natural world reminds us

of our insignificance

and

of the miracle of our existence

that

our daily pettiness

seems particularly idiotic

our greed for material things and need for control over others

seems breathtakingly self-destructive

Imagine

if all the energy

if all the resources

we use to fight each other

   believing that such battle will lead to
   well-deserved and justified survival

were instead entirely available

for celebrating the gift of our lives

as well as

for healing and recreating communities
   uprooted by events entirely beyond our mortal control

Bless the responders

the brave ones
who defy the aftershocks and other dangers

the selfless ones
who offer aid with the fullness of their hearts
   and the best of their talents

But

with each passing day

the immediacy of the horror drifts away

for those not directly affected by location or loved ones

we return to our life of routine

led by people who govern or otherwise direct our lives by fear

As artists, what can we do

what is our role

As artists, we are sensitive and keen observers

we know

how to witness

how to observe events in context of a bigger picture

As artists, we are creators

we take what we see

and

through our art

we can help craft a perspective for being in the world

informed not by fear but

informed by the commonality of our hearts

we can help craft a way of being in the world

that does not include battling against each other

that does enable us to celebrate the gift of our lives

that does enable us to continue in the face of inevitable natural challenges

it is through our art

that we present

and celebrate

our potential

our possibilities

our gratefulness

Jazz and Metal. Makes you go hmmm....

Several of my jazzer schoolmates are also serious metal fans. Every now and then I take a few minutes to listen to a recording or watch a video that these folks post, in the interest of being open-minded about musical expression. But I don't get very far, because its intense aggressiveness completely unnerves me. And yes, I am restraining myself from offering a variety of adjectives. I am finding that the older I get, the more adamant I am about ridding this world of excessive testosterone. And the more I explore music, the more I appreciate space.

Chances are metal will never. Ever. Ever make my Top 10 list of favorite genres, but I appreciated Ben Ratliff's article in last Wednesday's New York Times (12.30.09), in which he offered a very thoughtful comparison of jazz and metal music.

Though they have entirely different aesthetics as well as different audiences (generally speaking - my schoolmates are very hip exceptions), metal and jazz musics both embrace melodic, harmonic and rhythmic experimentation that increasingly requires a certain level of virtuosity. It is this willingness to experiment, to draw from their past vocabularies and vigorously redraw, if not create new vocabularies, that invigorates both genres to continue evolving and benefit from growing international followings. I'm going to keep paying attention to metal (from a distance, so I can hear myself think), but I am hoping that jazz, and other musics, might reach out to metal and soften its molecules.

Suite No. 1 for Clarinet and Piano

It's one thing to create something. I have often, if not always, experienced tremendous satisfaction upon completing a creative effort, whether it's a musical effort or a written effort or some other sort of medium. But to have such a work embraced by someone else and presented is an entirely different experience. This happened this evening for me, as clarinetist Paul Green and pianist Jennifer Snyder performed my first composition in recital. There is no greater thrill than to have someone not only appreciate your creative effort but then spend time with it and enjoy it in a deeply personal way, using their talents to give the work life beyond the notation. Several hours later, I am still thrilled. And inspired to create much, much more.

Dad

Today we pay our respects for Dad, fabulous husband, father and friend, as he sneaks past the bouncer and enters the great jazz club in the sky.

My offering today is inspired by the many folks who have sent along their sympathies and reflections. Some folks knew him well, some knew him a bit, some did not have a chance to meet him. All are here with us today, either in presence or in spirit. All together, we embrace each other and our Dad in Love.

Dad was joyful and charming, known for his wallet full of punch lines, his ability to bond with all sorts of animals and creatures, and his love of jazz music. We remember him for his warm, wide smile, which always made folks feel welcome and part of his family.

Through all the challenges he met, and there were many, Dad demonstrated extraordinary grace and fortitude, fueled by his profound love for his family, for his friends and for life. He was able to meet his final challenge comfortably and peacefully, thanks to the extraordinary care and attention of his hospice caregivers.

The other day, our friend Andrea described her experience of our father and mother, which has been echoed by many folks: “he was truly for her, and she was truly for him.” It was one of the many gifts he offered – his profound devotion and caring for family and friends has been inspirational.

As my own path in this life has unfolded, I have had the splendid opportunity of spending the past four years living with my parents, having them as a significant part of my every day. Not many children get to do this, and those who do often struggle with embracing it. In my case, my parents made it easy. What they have offered to me, unwavering for 51 years, has been their unconditional love. My appreciation for this gift has deepened during these past four years. It is a gift that has nourished my sense of worth and strengthened my sense of purpose in this world; for this I am eternally grateful. I have read and been told by various therapists and counselors that unconditional love can only be offered by a parent for a child, that it is simply not realistic, much less possible, for two people who enter into an intimate relationship and partnership to offer each other unconditional love. I strongly disagree. I disagree because our parents provided the model. They have offered their unconditional love for each other for 53 years; it is the unconditional love they have shared with each other that has been the source of their love and devotion for my sister and me. “He was truly for her, and she was truly for him.” This is the quality that so many folks who have known both of them admire so deeply and are inspired by.

Dad will not sit at our tables again. He will not be insisting on picking up the check again. He will not extend his smile and hand in welcome and greet us with “hiya, Cookie!” He will not be picking out tunes on the piano, always safe in the key of C. He will not befriend the gecko on the patio screen. He has left us the task of remembering and retelling the Smedley and Smythe joke.

Our loss is tremendous. Indeed, the world is poorer for its loss of a gentle, generous and loving man. But he would not at all want us to dwell in sadness. We are richer for having known him. He would want us to continue forward on our paths in this world, inspired to offer to each other the joy, good humor, and love for life that he shared for so long with all of us.

Jazz is Home.

What is jazz?

Jazz is difficult to define.
Ask lots of folks, you’ll get lots of different answers.

When asked for a definition of jazz, Louis Armstrong replied,
“If you gotta ask, you’ll never know.”

Some say jazz is music that swings.
Some say it has a bluesy sound.
Some define it by its syncopated rhythms.
Some say it’s jazz when there’s improvisation included.
Some say that jazz is NOT the music of Kenny G.
Then there’s an old musician’s joke about jazz being “better than sex, and it lasts longer.”

Since its birthing in 19th century New Orleans, one style has followed another - from blues, ragtime, Dixieland and swing to bebop, cool jazz, modal jazz, avant-garde jazz, funk, fusion, hard bop, new bop. Why not simply acknowledge each style separate unto itself? Why do we continue to use the term “jazz” to encompass it all?

In preparing to teach my first jazz history class this semester, I needed to answer this for myself.
Here’s what I’m thinking at the moment.

I’m thinking it has something to do with our primal need to know where Home is.
Jazz is Home.
All the different styles that have emerged are related, like parents and siblings and cousins.
All the different styles come Home to Jazz.
And so we can, and do, say,
All these different styles belong to Jazz.

Because there are so many styles that fall under
the realm of jazz (the Home of Jazz),
the musical vocabulary of jazz (the language of jazz) is a profoundly rich one.

Indeed, Jazz is an extraordinarily expressive language;
this is certainly one reason why jazz continues to be relevant in our world today.
Jazz allows for conversation.
You can have an easy, how ya doin’ kind of exchange, as in a jam session.
You can have a formal, structured sort of conversation, as in an ensemble recital.
You can have a soulful, or sensual, or spiritually ecstatic conversation, beyond words.

Because it is born of a mixture of cultures and traditions
Because so many different styles have emerged during the past hundred years
Jazz is a tolerant language.

Jazz is a tolerant language because,
from the beginning,
it has welcomed individual expression through improvisation.

And because it is a tolerant language,
Jazz embraces change.
It enjoys being used in familiar ways and,
inspired by past innovators,
supports exploration of new paths of expression.

I venture to say that most jazz musicians are grateful to be able to play the music.
We are able to communicate our deepest feelings with others in this world
in a way that transcends verbal language.
As we study the music of those musicians who came before us,
as we continue to acknowledge and honor them,
as we continue to revisit our home,
as we go Home to Jazz,
we keep the music,
and the traditions upon which it is based,
alive and growing.

the inspiration of quiet 2

Could absolutely not fall asleep last night, wide awake for several hours. Though not like the solitude that folks experience in, say, the Alaska wilderness, for me it is certainly significant alone time. And I have a lot of it. What I noticed last night, after several hours of indulging in kakuro, is that it has been my habit during this sort of time to distract myself from the aloneness. I am hiding from the aloneness. Upon reflection, I think being alone is a significant factor in creativity. What happens when I am willing to be with the aloneness and everything that fills it with no effort and listen to it and cry out of sadness or be truly joyful and grateful for the miracle of being alive? When I have done so, I have been able to create music and verse. And it has been satisfying to do so.

So the challenge is to spend such time tapping into the wealth of inspiration that lies beneath, wanting to be released, waiting for a voice. That kakuro has become a bit of an addiction. Fortunately, I’m just about finished with the white belt book. I won’t go looking for the green belt book just yet. I have some creating to do.