Every generation has a hero on the pop chart

The latest interweb dust-up about The Bad Plus and their covers has been well, er, covered at this point. I've blogged previously about Ethan, Reid and Dave, sometimes positively, sometimes less so. I stand by all of it. (And, pat self on back, I doubt I was first, but I called the prog angle two years ago...) A few thoughts anyway:

- I've thought, both as a player and as a critic, that the role of the critic was to judge what an artist does, not what the critic might prefer. My father likes to call that criticizing and ice cream soda for not being hot. Reading some of the (albiet selective) quotes TBP highlights, I think some of the critics would do well to remember that.

- One thing I like about TBP is that, if you played any of their records, but especially the last two, to someone who is musically literate but pop-culture clueless (like, say, my parents), I don't think they could tell the originals from the covers. There's an aesthetic unity to the work that I think undercuts some of the criticism they take for their covers.

- I won't touch the word irony, and I respect and thoroughly accept the what the band wrote, but I would say that, especially on a first listen, The Bad Plus' style can come across as quite, let's use the word glib. The last two bars of the A section of "Make Our Garden Grow" sound to me like a TV network audio logo, and I still find some of their cross cuts from crazy free to tight forms cuter than they need to be. Now that I know the band, both musically and socially, they make a lot more sense, and I like them more, but I understand why a critic wouldn't.

- Darcy asked the why TBP takes more flak for covers than, say, Jason Moran or Mehldau. I'd answer the question with a question- why are some pop tunes more acceptable for covering than others? Joni Mitchell, Radiohead, and Aaron Neville are okay, but Tears for Fears and Black Sabbath are out of bonds. Says who, and why? Lyrical quality- that never stopped us from covering "Miss Jones" or the much maligned "Surrey with a Fringe". I would, and do, think to cover Paul Simon or Curtis Mayfield, but not AC/DC or Blondie. That's due mostly to my own tastes and experiences, but I admit partially due to what I've been trained to expect "jazz" to be. Are musicians and/or critics projecting that out into a set of mores?

I would add that based on what I've heard so far of two much-balleyhooed new cover projects (and many before them), even picking "good, quality pop tunes" is no guarantee of making good music.

- finally, a tangent- one critic wrote: "…a slapstick version of E.S.T…". Would somebody explain the critical appeal of E.S.T. to me? (The popular appeal, as much as there is, I kind of get- It's pop-ish and approachable without looking like smooth jazz) I'm trying hard not to get to dark on other musicians, but... I've heard big chunks of two albums, and heard them live once, and hated every minute of it. The writing is thin on a good tune, the pianist hits the piano like it's a nail and he's a hammer, and I don't hear near the kind of interplay in that trio that I do in the bands they're often compared to. (Including TBP) I'd like to be wrong- can someone enlighten me?

Update: see Dave Douglas, another great advocate for covering newer music, and his especially cogent points on the topic.

Fringe Zones

If you've ever lived or studied in Boston, you know about the Fringe. The power trio of saxophonist George Garzone, bassist John Lockwood and drummer Bob Gulotti, who have been first calls for musicians from Buddy Rich to Luciana Souza to Phish, have had a weekly residence in a Boston club for more than twenty-five years, from the Somerville dive the Willow to several less memorable dives, now in the Lily Pad in Cambridge. But tomorrow night they go upscale to NEC's Jordan Hall. (Globe preview here)

The Fringe have become an institution here for musicians, and a trip to see the Fringe is as mandatory as a walk on the Freedom Trail. The music is often described as post-Coltrane free, but that sells it short. It's wild- one album cover has them in caveman outfits- and unusual. George has an unusual and fascinating intervallic approach to harmony that I still don't quite get, and the trio as a whole has that empathy that only comes with an longtime, intense farmiliarity. And it's free, in all senses of the word.

FONTastic

As I ponder bigger pictures, I wanted to take a second to highlight a few friends and colleagues who will be featured at next week's portion Festival of New Trumpet in New York. Not many big names here, but all worth hearing:

Sept 23- Jason Palmer @ the Jazz Standard, featuring Greg Osby
Sept. 25- Ralph Alessi @ CIM
Sept 26- Princess, Princess w/Jaimie Branch @ barbes
Sept 27- Nicole Rampersaud @ Cornelia Street Cafe

All of it is good, but these folks are special to me- go see why.

FONT Opening Concert @ CIM, 9/15

Having heard a lot about the Festival of New Trumpet Music over the past few years, without actually seeing a single show, I had no idea exactly how DIY it is. Maybe it was the venue- the Center for Improvisational Music is a newish space, not too far from the Brooklyn Academy of Music. It looks like an refurbished rehearsal space- it seats 75 or so and has a nice piano and a very comfortable, "lived-in" feel. To me, it's a direct extension of it's curator, Ralph Alessi's, personality, complete with a couple of kitchy, weird posters on the wall. (Note: I studied with Ralph for two years at Eastman)

Ralph opened the concert with his brass Extensions Ensemble. They took the name literally- the first piece was a sound collage where, due to multiphonics and other tricks, four guys sounded like ten. It was quiet, fierce, focused music. The highlight of the piece was a solo turn by Peter Evans, the other trumpeter in the group, whose extended technique had all the trumpeters in the audience beside themselves. The second piece, I'm guessing by Ralph, was an angular, modular piece with a lot of room for blowing. Here was Ralph's turn to shine; hi fired through in a more conventional sense, with searing lines up, down and around the horn.

Next up were Cecil Bridgewater and drummer Warren Smith, who offered an improvised tribute to Max Roach. Both toured with Max extensively, and offered praise for Max's generosity, musical and personal, and force of will. The music that followed was a little scattered, sneaking in several themes associated with Max, including "Bebop" and "Drum Along", which Max often opened his concerts with. I was completely unfarmiliar with Warren, and listening to him was a joy. He seemed to anticipate everything- mood and feel shifts, hits, climaxes- and then carry them an extra mile. Taylor Ho Bynum, the co-curater of FONT with Dave Douglas, said that anyone doing a benefit should always ask Warren first, because then everyone else will want to play, and I saw exactly what he meant.

Taylor followed with a solo improvisation, another formidible display of extended technique. He threw his body from side to side through the piece, playing to one wall, then suddenly the other. I'm not sure it was conscious or not, but I thought it was interesting, and definitely changed my perception of the performance. Some might find this distracting, but it brough me more into the physical space of the performance, hearing the sound bounce off one wall, then the other.
Next up was Douglas, in trio with Warren and Extensions tubist (and occasional Douglas consort) Marcus Rojas, performing a piece Dave described as a tribute to Lester Bowie. It was a 12/8 blues-ish piece, with Rojas filling a more tradition bass line role. Almost needless to say, Dave sounds great. The concert closed with a return of all the featured trumpeters, Rojas and Smith playing a free piece which morphed into a blues. Douglas and Alessi took a joint solo to begin the blues, which highlighed both the similarities and clear differences in their playing and approaches. (I found this especially interesting because there was awhile five years ago where it seemed like Ralph was the designated sub or replacement for all of Dave's sideman work- Don Byron, Uri Caine, etc. It was obvious both why the sub made sense, and how different the two of them are.)

The concert was a benefit for the groups that the various musicians here are affiliated with- FONT and CIM, as well as Smith and James Jabbo Ware's outreach non-profits. Dave mentioned that he hoped this was the beginnings of more and better collaborations among these and other groups involved in creative music. If it means more music like this, I'm all for it.

Chasing the muse, and chasing the ladies

I'm chewing hard on Dave Douglas' recent post about rep and Kris Tiner's new blog, specifically this post. I've also been thinking about a story a friend told me recently (He was there, and I wasn't, and I don't really know any of the parties involved except by reputation, so I'll be intentionally vague)

A well-know NYC jazz club booked an odd evening, pairing a grizzled old veteran player (GOV), sideman on many a tour with Great and Important Swingin' Jazz Artists, followed by a Wild Young Turk (WYT), playing challenging, left of center, critically praised but "out" music. (Think along the lines of, say, a Charlie Persip/Taylor Ho Bynum pairing, though it wasn't either of them) After the gig, folks were hanging, including several attractive women talking to GOV. WYT tried to get their attention, to no avail. After they'd broken away, WYT asked GOV why he couldn't get any love, and why GOV didn't help him out. GOV nearly lost it. "You expect any of those fine women to talk to you after all that crazy, out there #$^t you played tonight? And you expect me to get you there? What do you think this is?" Etc, etc.

I think most of us who've lived around the jazz world have a few stories like this. Confrontations at jam sessions, people yelling at gigs, etc. To me, it points out a dichotomy that Dave and Kris are dealing with in their posts. There are two dominant ideas of what "jazz" means (gross oversimplification ahead, and there are certainly more than two. But these are two I bump into very often) One is jazz as a tradition, a canon, a language which encompasses both musical syntax and cultural traditions. For instance, "Giant Steps" is a sixteen bar form with a novel harmonic structure, but also a saxophonist's rite of passage. This idea of jazz is about ninth chords and nightclubs, a musical language and a way of presenting yourself on stage. (And, yes, often chasing skirts, sexist as that may be) Not that many folks in this head agree on what that language or presentation should exactly be, but most agree that it should be something specific. I think my mentor Michael Cain put it very well here.

The other is the, perhaps more utopian idea of improvisational music as pure expression. Dave says it better than I:

"To me it means the freedom to learn All That. To do the work on the basics but to never forget why one is learning all that and to never be afraid to try something off the page. In fact, to especially have the urge to always try something off the page. To be ultimately free to choose, with as little illusion as possible, to make the music one feels."

(Please read Dave's whole post- there's a whole lot more than that there)

In other words, jazz, or whatevery you want to call it, is primarily about expression, wherever that takes you. Functionally, there is a faction in our music that seems to say the weirder, the "outer", the better. That's when you get anecdotes like the above.

Certainly these two are not necessarily opposed- this idea of jazz that GOV represents in the story is built on brilliantly creative, risk-taking musicians, free in the truest sense of the word. And certainly, jazz has a particular, important, complicated place in the African-American community that musicians, who aren't black or don't really understand that community, often ignore or downplay at our own peril. (I count myself here) And, perhaps more importantly, the first informs how jazz is taught and communicated in mass culture much, much more than the second.

It's not my place to say that one or the other is more true, or better. I certainly think more in the second, freedom head. But my entire education in this music is heavily informed by the first view, the idea of jazz as the True American Music, of playing standards and going to jam sessions and impressing women with particularly moving ballads. (not that that really happens much) But in thinking about the music we make and hear and care about, it behooves us to examine this distinction more carefully, and what we think about it. Could it lead to a more informed, more enlightened discussion of what we do?

Okay, I meant to talk about repitiore via Dave, but that can wait 'til later...

Empty Your Cup

While I put myself together:

- Thanks to those who came to the hit on Sunday night with Lift. And huge, huge thanks to Eric, Andrew, Carmen, Bridget and Jason for bringing the music to life so wonderfully. We all agreed that it was a great start, and I want to do it again soon. Sound posts to come.

- Since Dave Douglas obviously doesn't have anything better to do at present, he wrote a long and fascinating blog about the issue of repertoire in jazz and improvised music. Hope this stirs the pot a lot- my thoughts to come. (I'm planning to make the opening FONT concert on Saturday night. Holler if you see me.)

- Darcy reviews the Claudia Quintet. I got to see the band in their last go-round in Boston, and it was equally great.

- I did get out to the Halvorson/Pavone duo and Ted Reichman hit in Brookline on Friday night. I had to be up at 5am, so sadly I missed the Speed/Noriega madness. Briefly, Halvorson/Pavone- fascinating, focused, riveting writing. Especially when they added their close-harmony duo singing. Unfortunately, the improvising didn't match it. Ted played long, minimal patterns on an out of tune piano with MIDI drumbeats. Not my cup of tea.

RIP Zawinul. Darcy, as usual, has the rundown. I bumped into Danilo Perez today, who was terribly bummed. He'd seen him at a festival this summer, and gushed about it. He will be missed.

- Finally, I was in quite a funk today even before that bad news, it being 9/11. Like many folks, I can still flash back to the moment I saw the TV with the planes, and the frantic attempts that week to reach people near the towers after the phones had gone out. I played the Knit ten days later- you still had to go through a National Guard checkpoint to get there- and walked by the rubble still smoking. I wish I had something eloquent to say this time, but I don't. I'd remind people that a conservative estimate puts the number of deaths US foreign policy has caused just in Iraq at more than ten times the deaths Al Queda caused on 9/11. And for what? We must do better, now.

Lift @ The Lily Pad, Sunday, 9/9, 7:15 pm

Here's the full info:

Pat Donaher & Lift

Jason Palmer- trumpet
Carmen Staaf- piano
Bridget Kearney- bass
Eric Platz- drums
Andrew Stern- guitar

Lily Pad, 1393 Cambridge St, Inman Square (map here)
7:15 pm, $10 suggested donation

I'm excited for this one- it's not often that ALL your first calls say yes, and can rehearse at the same time, but that happened here. We'll be reimagining some of the book I wrote for this instrumentation several years ago, and adding new things too. Sound clips will surely follow, but if you can, hope to see you in person.

(I'll be adding to this, and leaving it at the top of the page until the gig is done.)

Gigs to see in September

Come to mine, of course, but in the meantime:

There is a Matthew Shipp/Vijay Iyer twinbill Tuesday 9/4 at the Regattabar that should be fantastic. (Of course, it happens during my brokest week of the year. Damn.) Anyone who goes, please feel free to e-mail and you can guest blog it.

Friday 9/7, the very good and criminally underhyped music series at Brookline Tai Chi has a great lineup, assembled by our favorite new local Ted Reichman. The show features a three clarinet band with Chris Speed, and the well regarded Jessica Pavone/Mary Halvorson duo. Also coming:

9/8 Betty Buckley and Kenny Werner at the Regattabar
9/12 Wolfgang Muthspeil at the Regattabar
9/13-14 Mose Allison at Scullers
9/14 Leo Genovese and Ultra Gauchos at the Lily Pad
9/26 Zizala at Ryles
9/28 Greg Hopkins Orchestra at Ryles

And, the Beantown Jazz Festival returns to the South End the last weekend of September. The opening concert, a benefit for a Berklee scholarship fund, is a star-studded blockbuster, which doesn't bode well. The free events are very good; highlights are Bobby Hutcherson's quartet and Claudia Acuna.

sometimes the frog sings too

More Muppets whimsy- to celebrate the release of season 2 on DVD, the Phoenix newspaper compiled a top twenty Muppet Show musical moments. The Rich/Animal duel is already legendary; for me the find is the Paul Simon solo number. I didn't know this tune, and man is it great.

Summer fades away with its radio in the distance...

Every summer, they say, has its song. (I want to know who they are) You know the one, the song so ubiquitous it ends up on every radio station, even NPR, unbelievably catchy. The song you hear at every 7-11 on the planet as you get your slurpee. That song. There's never any universal agreement, but there are songs that I'll equate with a particular summer, from the really good ("Every Breath You Take", summer of '83, getting you all primed for Orwell) to the ridiculously catchy (remember "Crazy in Love" a few years back?) to the, well, less good (remember "Drop it Like it's Hot", also one of the most annoying catch phrases in recent history?)

But this summer, I need help. I listen to the radio some, probably more than I should, and I haven't found a song that fits the bill- catchy and ubiquitous, will play on white and black radio, you hear kids singing it. (Maybe the fragmentation of radio is part of why I don't have one, but that's another topic.) It doesn't even have to be good, though that'd be nice.

For the record, my nominations:

Cat Empire- "Sly"



It's catchy, it's danceable, and that thing in the video looks like a bass trumpet, which wins it cool points. On the downside, it sounds an awful lot like Cake (the first several times I heard it I said "Oh, cool, Cake's finally gonna have a radio hit" Oops.) and it never really caught on on teen radio.

Plain White T's- Hey There Delilah



I know, it's unbelievably cliche, almost self-consciously so, and lyrically really clunky. But is there anything more summer, at least in our dreams, than unironic, fearless young love? And it's ubiquitous. (Remember, I didn't say I liked it, or you had to)

Please tell me there's been something else in the pop world this summer that I missed. Please?

Gigs I won't be at this weekend...

But you could.

Terence Blanchard at the Regattabar, tonight. Blanchard is my favorite of the New Orleans' "young lions". I remember seeing him with the (criminally underrated) Bruce Barth ten years ago, and being just blown away. Music from his new post-Katrina record.

Herbie Hancock is at the Berklee Performance Center tomorrow night. With Nathan East- bass, Lionel Louke- guitar, Vinnie Colaiuta- drums. Cheapest seat is $50- Herbie, c'mon! Here's a taste, courtesy of YouTube:

Spacing out

King Kauffman, Salon.com's sports columnist, reports today on a Chicago Cub fan myspace page being shut down without explanation or apparent cause. This reminded me of a recent note I got from Living Colour about their continuing (mis)adventures with Myspace (scroll to July 3 entry), and what they found when they dug a little.

Living Colour is not alone here among musicians I follow; Meshell N'Degeocello has had her fan page on myspace dropped several times, and a few others I follow as well. Other musicians, Living Colour and John Mayer to name two, have shifted their more candid comments to other venues. (I like Mayer's "in response to the arrest of 63 fans")

Now, Myspace is a privately owned portal, owned by Rupert Murdoch's Orwellian Newscorp; Legally it can do whatever it wants on Myspace. But that doesn't make it fair or right- not LC's comments about the power of Myspce as a marketing tool once you hit a certain tipping point- and my hunch is that the more noise that is made when it does happens, the less it'll happen. Not even fascist like bad press.

Update: Myspace has responded to Salon, and blames this one on Major League Baseball. I don't know if I buy that one...

a nu warrior on the mat

For those of you in the Boston area, I will be teaching an all levels, "power flow" yoga classes at HYP Studio in Needham on Saturday morning at 7:30 and 9am. HYP is a lovely studio, with what many of my teacher friends call the best heat in Boston. (Yup, both classes will be taught at a balmy 95 degrees. You will sweat, and sweat, and sweat. So will I.) This is my first teaching since my recent training with Baron Baptiste, and I'm excited to get back into the flow of it again. (pardon the pun)

Don't worry, I won't be using the blog to advertise every class I teach- my hope is there'll be so many it'd get tedious. quickly This, though, is an Occasion.

Next gig- Lift @ Lily Pad, Sept. 9

First, for the first time in awhile I shifted ye ole myspace page, to include a live version "Wedding Day", a song I wrote for my brother's wedding. Their fifth anniversary is in a few weeks- yikes. Even that far out, I think this is one of the best tunes I've written. The band is Lift, with special guest Tim Albright. We may resurrect it for...

My next gig is all set! I will be bringing a new, full sextet version of Lift to the Lily Pad in Cambridge on Sunday, Sept. 9. Hit will be at 7:15. A new, fleshed out version of "Hopscotch" (also on the myspace page) will be on the menu, as well as some new and older music. (all this music has bumped blogging a bit, in case you haven't noticed. The lineup is:

Jason Palmer- trumpet
Carmen Staaf- keys
Andrew Stern- guitar
Bridget Kearney- bass
Eric Platz- drums
moi- saxophone

Andrew, a newcomer to my world, and Eric are two thirds of Fat Little Bastard, a great guitar trio. I'm the worst player in my band- I love that feeling. More as it comes.

opening kickoff, allegro con moto

From today's Monday Morning Quarterback, Peter King's NFL column, a must read every week for any (American) football fan:

At the start of (New York) Jets practice at their Long Island complex, Mozart concertos play from six speakers around the practice fields.
"There's a lot of debate about whether classical music, and Mozart in particular, stimulates brain waves and learning,'' (Jets head coach Eric) Mangini told me the other day. "So I figured, 'Why not? Let's do it.'''
Sure sounds strange while standing out there, that's all I can say.
"Not a lot of the guys are very big fans of it,'' safety Kerry Rhodes said.

Maybe Mangini should have started with the symphonies...

RIP Max Roach

What can you say about one of, if not the greatest drummer in jazz history? When I was first getting into this music at age 10-11, all I listened to was Charlie Parker records, so Max Roach was a given for me. I just thought that's how people played drums.

Max's brilliance didn't hit me until several years later, when I got what is still my favorite Clifford Brown record, the Live at Basin Street outing of the Brown/Roach quintet, still with Sonny Rollins. Listening again now, the album is uneven, and Richie Powell is a little stiff, but the propulsion that Roach provides, and Clifford rides, still blows me away to this day. Just listen to the solo on the full version of "What is This Thing..." Wow.

When I was 16, I was also lucky enough to see a Max Roach solo set at Newport, featuring "Mr. Hi Hat", his tribute to Jo Jones. (This followed a duo set of Jack DeJohnette and Bobby McFerrin. I was a lucky kid) I was stupified. Here's one version, courtesy of Hank Shteamer at TONY:



Many others can say more, and speak better of Max's brilliance (great NYT obit here, and Darcy has an expanding blog rundown.) And like many folks, I knew he was sick. I'm just overwhelmingly grateful for Max's amazing music, searching soul and restless spirit. Heaven's rhythm section just got that much better.

the dog who licks itself because it can

Words of wisdom from the great Lee Konitz. (via Rifftides)

Mwanji collects the shards of feedback on the most recent Keith Jarrett fiasco. The things I miss when I skip town. And I've been fortunate enough to see Keith's trio three different times- when I saw him in the Rochester area he actually laughed off an erstwhile photographer. Why do I miss all the good stuff? On a more serious note, before Keith's late 90s early 00s bout with chronic fatigue, there was a date set for a quintet record of the trio plus Lovano and Tom Harrell, playing all new material. (Rumors were floating around for awhile, and Jack DeJohnette confirmed them at a masterclass I attended in '97) One can only hope this idea gets picked up again...

And on a more frivolous note, Greg Easterbrook's Tuesday Morning Quarterback returns this week, just in time for really useless NFL preseason games. He gives rather roundabout capsules for each team, and a fantastic layman's guide to hedge funds, the biggest scam of the season not involving something made in China...

Addition: I'm the last one to this, but Steve Coleman finally has a blog. Anyone who's ever heard Steve speak or talked to him in person or on the phone, knows that this is long, long overdue. (My former prof Ralph Alessi, who toured with Steve for several years, said that if he called, he would just stop whatever he was doing, get his notebook and start writing.) It's dense, it's full, and some of it may be BS, but it's a must read. I've skimmed it, but I will spend an hour at work tomorrow literally mouthing along with the words, and then maybe, maybe start reacting...

RIP Herb Pomeroy

It's a drag to come home to be the bearer of bad news. Herb Pomeroy, longtime Boston trumpeter, composer, arranger and teacher lost his battle with cancer on Saturday at age 77. (Globe obit here, NY Times here) The article may seem like hyperbole, but it's not at all. Without Herb, Berklee couldn't have held it's post for so long as the jazz school, and his role on the Boston scene in the 50s, 60s and 70s was equally important.

I got to work with Herb once, in 1993 as part of the Mass all-state jazz band. We did an all-Ellington program (Herb was a quiet advocate for playing and learning all of Duke's music long before J@LC came along), still unusual in those days, especially for a high school band. It included a big band version of "Fleur African" from Money Jungle, very unusual. He loved everyone there, and everyone loved Herb. He was like your kind uncle who swoops in out of town once a year and regales you with tales about far-away lands. Only here the far-away lands were stories of Bird and Dolphy and Duke and so many others. I didn't get to work with Herb after that, but I am to this day grateful to him. He will be dearly missed.

As the article mentions, A memorial service will be held at 3 p.m. on Sept. 9 in Emmanuel Church on Newbury Street in Boston.

corpse pose

I am headed out of town for ten days for a yoga teacher training, and a few days of R&R in the Berkshires after that. (Yes, I know Baron badly butchers Shakespeare here; he was never an english major...) No phone, no web, just yoga; we'll see how it plays out. Assuming I can still feel my fingers, blogging will resume on my return. 'Til then, enjoy the work of my esteemed colleagues, or fer cryin out loud, get outside and play in the sunshine! In the meantime, here's an aforementioned, amazing performance from Sonny Rollins and Leonard Cohen- I have more to say 'bout this one on my return.

musical scale (w/leah swann, guest blogger)

Last week, at Tanglewood, the Boston Symphony under James Levine dove into Mahler 3. (NY Times review here) A little background- for as long as I can remember, about twenty years now, the BSO playing Mahler has been a big deal. I grew up in the Seiji Ozawa era, at the point where (allegedly) the musicians started getting bored of the maestro, and vice-versa, particularly during the long summers at Tanglewood. Every season was notoriously hit or miss, and with parents' season tickets and two summers working and playing at Tanglewood, I got to see some of both. BUT, whenever the BSO did Mahler, no matter how bad a run they were on by their standards, it was must-see music. The orchestra's intensity ramped up ten notches, Ozawa reminded everyone why they hired him in the first place, and the crowds rose to their feet. Not surprisingly, Mahler was on the program at least twice a year, and they would tour with Mahler 3 or 5 as part of the program.

I never thought too much about it. I always enjoyed the Mahler I got to see, but figured it was one of those things; some orchestras do certain periods or composers well. And Mahler, with his vast scope, grand themes and huge casts, is a good one to do well. Now I'm less sure.

My good friend, violist, occasional contributor to Strings magazine and all around amazing person Leah Swann is currently a fellow at Tanglewood; it's her second summer there, and she's an NEC grad, so she's seen her share of the BSO too. She recently send me a long missive about the recent Mahler 3 performance, with a very different take on playing and hearing his music. I'll let her talk now:

Mahler 3 seems to be this incredible depiction of the extremes of life -- ridiculous trombone solos and intensely loud full orchestra passages, muted trumpet and crazy double bass section solos...everything intense and dramatic and over the top but somehow not in an exaggerated, grotesque way, but in a way very much about human existence...not about a personal sort of humanity like Beethoven -- but about the humanity of a society, a culture, a people. (which seems so appropriate for a Symphony, no?) Beethoven is so amazing because his music seems to speak to everyone on a personal level, expressing all that it is to be human, and Mahler seems to express in a way vaguely similar all it is to be a part of something tremendous and living and breathing and writhing and aching and longing and celebrating. I thought a lot during the couple of hours about this idea that it was music so great that it also Demanded greatness -- here they (the BSO) were, all shining, all giving everything -- and it seems like that had to be partly true because you just couldn't do the piece any other way, you know? so then I started thinking about other pieces that are like that...that Demand something of the performer, that grow you and teach you something because you just can't be involved with the music in a way that is anything less.

It got me thinking- her question about musical Demands is a huge one, and one I wanted to throw out to the hivemind. Especially in our music (jazz/improv/art-pop/what-have you), is there an equivalent to Mahler? Do we, can we, are we well served when we operate on that scale? I'm inclined to argue no- our music, unlike European art music, was built from a small scale, from three minute 45s, from brothels and the Cotton Club and Birdland and lofts and the 200-seat Knitting Factory, so by it's nature it's not as broad as Mahler, or Strauss, or Nixon in China. And when it tries to be- Kenton, Ellington's Sacred Concerts, the Rock-operas of the 70's- it falls flat on its face. I was just listening to Maria Schneider's new record, Sky Blue, and it comes closer than anything she's done, or anything I've heard in awhile- it's big and bold and beautiful, certainly, but also in turn very soft and delicate, and far more personal than grand. More Beethoven if you use Leah's argument. (Maria's liner notes, almost diary-like, are a giveaway) In jazz (for lack of better language) our brilliance is in many ways in the intimacy of it- watching Trane communicate his processes, technical, emotional and spiritual, seeing Miles break a room apart with three notes, hearing Billy Holiday seemingly wilt into the microphone or Johnny Hodges climb ten stories in a second during a ballad. And currently, watching Dave Douglas and The Bad Plus and Darcy and Ron Miles and so many others try to thread the needles of tradition and innovation, irony and passion that our time demands. Even at their most political, it's a most beautiful form of retail politics, hardly an international soapbox.

I know personally, I've been very blessed to play some big, beautiful, Important rooms- including at Tanglewood- and I've never been able, never wanted to muster up that kind of grandeur, even writing 15 minute jazz odysseys for large ensemble. I want the person in the back of the hall to feel drawn in, like we're in a small club or a living room, having a conversation. And even playing Ellington with a big band, I never felt like I could fall back on the music the way I think some classical musicians believe they can with Mozart or Brahms. I think when you really pull an audience into Mahler, or a big opera, they're buying into the granduer, but when you pull a crowd in with our music, they buy into the personality of it.

But I could be wrong- is there a Mahler in our ranks? Other thoughts greatly appreciated.

P.S. Many, many thanks to Leah for the use of her beautiful missive, and congratulations to her, Evan and the rest of the TMC orchestra for kicking ass on Verdi's "Don Carlo this weekend. (Reviews here and here) Even listening on the radio a hundred miles away, it was amazing to behear.


P.P.S To drive it home, here's a very different take on Tanglewood, Miles ca. 1971. (thanks to Jason Palmer for this, my first non-text link. Slowly, we get hep to the future here at Visionsong HQ.)