2011 I.R.S.A conference

This is not a travel blog, but I recently attended the 2011 International Rhythm Studies Association's annual conference in Sao Paulo, Brazil. You can find out more about the I.R.S.A. here. It's put together primarily by Ronan Guilfoyle and Marcel Coelho. I presented a paper on the use of Elliott Carter's rhythmic language as a basis for improvisation. I recorded the lecture and plan to put the video up when I get home in August. In the meantime, I recorded some of my thoughts regarding the conference.

One of the first things I realised is how much there is to learn. While I feel I’ve placed rhythm at the centre of my practice and music for around 5 years, and I feel comfortable playing things like quintuplets and septuplets in a variety of groupings, playing over grooves composed using Marcelo’s Coelho’s ‘rhythmic line’ concept was extraordinarily difficult, as was playing Love for Sale at 250 B.P.M. in 11/4. Finding out you’re terrible at something is always a great thing: there’s always more work to do.

Also, I was struck by everyone’s willingness to engage in any demonstration; singing and clapping was present almost constantly. This stands in contrast to many attitudes I’ve experienced in Australia: trying to get people to stand, sing and clap is often met with fear. What students seem not to realise is that involvement of this kind is the best way to gauge where you’re at with the materials; if it’s not in your body and voice you don’t stand a chance of playing it on your instrument.

As always it’s good to be reminded of the international standard: it seems more and more musicians all around the world are placing rhythm at the centre of their musical concerns. From what I can see so far, this is resulting in music as complex as ever. No doubt some people hate this direction for improvised music, and I must that, personally, I swing between loving it and hating it, depending mainly on the aesthetic the performers bring to this sort of music.

If you remember my post about the work concept in jazz, it might come as no surprise to you that I’m wary of complex written music in improvised music becoming and end in itself. Personally I prefer to marry complex rhythmic structures with interactive ensemble playing. What this means is that I’m conscious of avoiding structures that hinder the use of a multitude of rhythmic speeds, as I believe that these are key to maintaining the expansive ensemble sound I enjoy in jazz and improvised music.

Thinking more about students, Ronan Guilfoyle’s lecture outlining his compulsory four-year rhythm studies course at the New Park school in Dublin, Ireland made it clear that very soon 5/4, 7/4, 9/4 and 11/4 will no longer be thought of as ‘odd’ time signatures, and that an understanding of Konokol and Korvai will be basic knowledge for any student who has a Bachelor degree or equivalent. With huge amounts of information available online, it is really up to students to get to work on this stuff sooner rather than later.

The discovery of Jose Eduardo Gramani two books: “Ritmica” and “Ritmica Viva” has been a revelation. While I’ve only just grazed the surface of what is in these tomes, it seems pretty clear that hundreds, possibly thousands of hours of practice and frustration await me. Marcelo Coelho is in the process of translating his doctoral thesis which possible various musical applications the ideas contained in these books; I look forward to reading it.

All in all, the conference has been incredible, and I’ve learnt a lot. I have every intention of applying to attend the next in Sweden.

Listening

It's probably all of the Goehr/Subotnik/Adorno-type reading I've been doing lately, but I've been hearing music kinda differently lately....

Also, the Melbourne International Jazz Festival (M.I.J.F.) was on recently, and allowed to me ponder what I was hearing and why I did/didn't enjoy it.

This is not the time (I haven't understood enough yet) to plunge the depths of Adorno's philosophy of music. One thing I have gleamed, however, is that he thinks music/art should reflect the individual's relationship with society. For example, Adorno is often quick to point out what he identifies as the totalitarian philosophies of some music practice; something he sees as troublesome if that society is striving for democracy.

So, we live in a world were practically everything is available to us. Post-modernism seems so much a part of the norm today; anything is available and able to be used, with or without irony.

Here I think about Gary Peters' description of the modern improviser as a "junk-yard inventor." The scrapheap of history lies behind us, and we assemble parts of this, parts of that, in our own way, heading into the future. If this is the case, and I think it is, surely improvisers should make music that reflects how they perceive themselves as part of the world.

At the M.I.J.F., I felt Jason Moran's set did this very thing. Sure I could talk about the evolving sound of the piano trio, the lineage from Jaki Byard, Monk, Herbie Nichols and Andrew Hill, the harmony, his left hand, the sound etc. etc., but one of the main reasons I enjoyed this set so much was that, in the end, all of the music was presented as coming from Moran's life. The use of sampling as integral to the gig, for example, whether it be Africa Bombaata, Bille Holiday singing or Monk tap-dancing, reflects his identifying with hip-hop sample culture. His manner on stage, detached from the quiet reserve normally adopted by jazz musicians in the concert hall, was, to my mind, part of Moran's efforts to free jazz from the stifling that usually occurs in such venues.

The other set that did this was Chiri. Scott Tinkler, Simon Barker and Bae Il Dong's collaboration has already received attention, but no one seems to talk about the nature in which these men play together. Listening to this gig I felt that, while there is obviously overlap between each one's interest, (Simon's interest in Pansori and his connection with Scott have both been documented, while Scott and Il Dong's crossing over point relates to gesture and power of tone) each musician was free to realise their personal vision of music making while simultaneously contributing to the collective, greater, whole.

I felt that the collaboration between Barker, Tinkler and Moran did something similar, but less successfully.

So when I say I'm hearing music differently, more and more this is what I am listening for, in my own as well as in others music.

The other thing I'm listening for is virtuosity. Now, "hang on just one minute, you can't expect everyone to be a virtuoso" some of you might say. Well, I certainly have high expectations, I expect people who are presenting at an international festival to have their stuff down, so to speak. For anyone working seriously on music, though, I imagine this is not such a daunting idea: you already spend hours a day on your instrument, you're listening to plenty of music and working hard on whatever it is you are into. I suppose my point here is really that, whatever you do, you better have a solid command of it.

I'm not thinking of anyone in particular, nor am I wanting to define what 'virtuoso' means (please don't bring up that stupid Miles Davis argument). All I'm saying is, mediocrity is not an option.

Somebody, talking to me about a lesson they had with New York pianist Aaron Goldberg concluded a discussion regarding differences in aesthetics with something along the lines of:
" . . . but he's just really into playing the instrument well." This is can get into. Mainstream improvisers such as Goldberg (this is by no means a slight) pride themselves on their technical prowess. I see nothing wrong with this. Where my thoughts on music making seem to move off on a slight tangent is that I don't see why, in order to be a great player (whatever that means) one must adhere to that style of straight ahead jazz playing. Sure, there are certain things (strength of tone, time, basic knowledge of rhythm and harmony) that this schooling will give you, but I truly see this as a means, not an end. As an end this ends up being music that resembles a routine, rather than reassembling and represting the 'junkyard materials' in a novel way. Putting a jazz standard in an odd time, or series of odd times, doesn't cut it, to my mind, even when done well.

So the trick, as far as I am concerned at the moment, is to take the good parts from 'learning to tradition' and combine them with an approach that more reflects Adorno's concern of art and it's place in society.

We'll see how that goes...