If you missed it, here’s the link to Part 1 - The Incident.

Quick recap: While he listened to my Donna Lee Variations, Joe took an opportunity to publicly expose what he thought was ignorance and inexperience. He vibed me big time.

Joe doesn’t seem to want to correct an awful first impression. And I have no interest in pursuing a relationship; not even a musical relationship. What’s the point? If two musicians have a bad personal relationship, can they still have a good musical relationship? Can you separate the two? I don’t think so, and I would never put myself in a position to find out! If we don’t get along personally, why would we want to make music together? Down the road, I’m sure Joe will make good music, just not with me. The ball is in Joe’s court.

It’s amazing how just a few of Joe’s words can bring forward so many issues. Some of these issues deserve more discussion, but they all deserve consideration. I fear they have found their way into the jazz/music culture and we’re taking them for granted.

Thanks for reading!

If you missed it, here’s the link to Part 1 - The Incident.

Quick recap: While he listened to my Donna Lee Variations, Joe took an opportunity to publicly expose what he thought was ignorance and inexperience. He vibed me big time.

To vibe someone is to give attitude (either actively or passively). It can be as obvious as mouthing off, or as subtle as giving the cold shoulder. Why do people vibe one another? You may think that vibe-ing is similar to what I discussed in the previous post. But I think vibe-ing is different. It’s not meant to create a student-teacher division. Instead, it’s used as an attempt to tip the ‘social-status’ scales because for some reason, the viber has a need to express dominance. The fact that Joe vibed me publicly is telling of this.

Nobody likes being vibed, but there are always people who do it. It’s always inappropriate and uncalled for. I’m sure it has become habitual for some. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if vibe-ing is most prevalent in the performing arts where artists are constantly putting their egos/souls on the line!

How do you deal with being vibed? It’s quite simple. In my experience, you’re best option is to blow it off. If you’re being vibed, chances are there’s something happening in the mind of the viber that runs deeper than a personal conflict with you; it’s not you, it’s them. Once you’ve blown it off, then you can decide if you want to pursue a relationship. Good luck! Whatever happens, don’t vibe back.

Nothing positive comes from vibe-ing. Bottom line: Don’t do it. Ever. Tell your ego to bite the bullet for the moment and expose itself. You’ll be amazed at how much more satisfying it is and the return can be even greater!

Stay tuned for Part 8!

If you missed it, here’s the link to Part 1 - The Incident.

Quick recap: While he listened to my Donna Lee Variations, Joe took an opportunity to publicly expose what he thought was ignorance and inexperience.

If I were sixty years old, playing my Donna Lee Variations, things would have been very different. Joe may have dug it, he may have hated it, but I’m sure he wouldn’t have said anything, especially if I had a respectable reputation. That’s why this is an issue.

There’s often a division created between experienced, reputable musicians and the unknown and less experienced ones. It’s most apparent within a student-teacher relationship where both parties have accepted that a division is needed and should be respected. Although it is not exclusive to the older, reputable and more experienced; Problems arise when someone assumes a teacher role without the consent of his/her (assumed) student. It becomes more problematic when those ‘teachers’ feel they are entitled to a division and think their ‘students’ are obligated to accept and respect it.

Here’s the issue: Age and reputation can create the illusion of a proper division between teachers and students. From his perspective, Joe may have acted out because he thinks his age and reputation are enough to justify a proper student-teacher relationship. What’s worse is that he’s prepared to act on this presumption in front of friends and colleges! From my perspective, if Joe was playing Donna Lee Variations and I was listening, it would have been improper (and social suicide) to even suggest that he played a wrong note and engage in any public critique. For the same reason, after Joe’s ‘wrong-note’ comments, defending myself was complicated and almost impossible; “Who does Chris think he is defending himself from Joe, an older, respectable and more experienced musician?!”

If Joe’s intention was to create this division, his mistake was in overlooking a fundamental characteristic of proper student-teacher relationships: Mutuality. With Joe’s forced division and my unwillingness to accept it (especially when it comes to Donna Lee), there’s a conflict.

This issue deserves much attention; it runs deep. I’ve identified mutuality as a discussion topic, but I realize that it’s only part of the picture. For the sake of keeping the focus on Joe, I’ll be sure to revisit this issue in the near future!

Stay tuned for part 7!

If you missed it, here’s the link to Part 1 - The Incident.

Quick recap: While he listened to my Donna Lee Variations, Joe took an opportunity to publicly expose what he thought was ignorance and inexperience.

The tradition has been known to encourage cutting. Was this Joe’s purpose?

Doubtful. Doesn’t cutting involve having instruments in hand and letting the music do the talking? I’m not (necessarily) talking about stride pianists trying to outplay each other, I’m talking about general improv battles and on-stage competitiveness. May the best player win!

No, this isn’t what Joe was doing. Otherwise he would have kept silent and waited until the concert to show how Donna Lee really should be played. Let the listeners decide! But maybe the tradition has since morphed into something different. You don’t cut on-stage, you cut off-stage. You don’t use your instrument, you use your mouth. It’s not about the music; it’s about your reputation. You don’t need mutual respect, just the best put-down.

So maybe Joe wanted to keep me on my toes; he wanted to throw me off my game! I hope this isn’t a growing trend. It would grossly ruin an honorable tradition.

Stay tuned for Part 6!

If you missed it, here’s the link to Part 1 - The Incident.

Quick recap: While he listened to my Donna Lee Variations, Joe took an opportunity to publicly expose what he thought was ignorance and inexperience.

When is it advisable to compromise a relationship? Unless there is a serious conflict of interest or ethical issues involved, I would say: Never! Respect everybody, develop your people-skills and know how other people are responding to you on a personal level. Knowing how to nurture relationships is very important, especially for young artists.

Why would Joe risk compromising our relationship? Actually, it’s most likely that he either doesn’t care about nurturing relationships, or he doesn’t realize that he’s compromising them. The first instance is admirable only because (I’m assuming) he’s only interested in nurturing musical relationships. He seeks people he can connect with strictly on a musical level. This is only admirable to a point, which is when you realize that a person’s reputation isn’t enough to justify being an asshole.

The second instance tells that he is unaware of how people respond to his personality. It’s social awkwardness. If you’re an asshole, you’d better figure it out fast and start mending bridges. Your success depends on it!

Stay tuned for Part 5!

If you missed it, here’s the link to Part 1 - The Incident.

Quick recap: While he listened to my Donna Lee Variations, Joe took an opportunity to publicly expose what he thought was ignorance and inexperience.

Think about what happens when you suspect ignorance and inexperience. Immediately, you’ve drawn a line and made a division: You have more experience, and they have less. In a manner of speaking, you have set yourself as the teacher, and he/she the student. How do you handle this?
It’s natural to listen for an artist’s experience and compare it to your own, but the lesson here is how you deal with it.

First, you have to know that when listening to music, it’s impossible to know the exact nature of an artist’s diligence and experience. What if I told you I’ve never heard a recording of Donna Lee, and that I wrote some variations on a melody I randomly pulled from a fakebook? On the other hand, what if I was a Donna Lee scholar? When listening to any performance, you may have your suspicions, but you can never know, especially when an artist’s technical skills are well developed. It’s impossible.

Second, because knowing is impossible, publicly expressing your suspicions is extremely risky. There’s a chance you’re dead wrong. There’s a chance that people will disagree with you. Also, because you’re assuming an authoritative position, you run the risk of compromising a relationship. This is especially true if you’re not the fellow musician’s teacher or he/she didn’t ask for your feedback.

To clarify, I’m not saying publicly expressing your suspicions is a bad thing; you just have to be careful. I know that you want to keep artists honest, but you don’t want to put your foot in your mouth, and you definitely don’t want to shoot yourself in the foot. Make sure you have enough ammunition and good tact to back yourself up. This means you have to be extremely knowledgeable of the artist, his/her music and the context.

In my opinion, Joe made three mistakes. First, he didn’t give himself the opportunity to make a well-informed opinion (he only heard one of ten variations). Second, he assumed an authoritative position when it was most inappropriate and third, he did nothing to mend an awful first impression. He misread me, my music and the context.

Not sure if it’s worth the risk? Here’s some advice that will work 100% of the time: Keep your opinions to yourself. Read this post on unsolicited opinions.

Stay tuned for Part 4!

If you missed it, here’s the link to Part 1 - The Incident.

I don’t know why Joe did what he did. But I’d like to identify some issues that emerge because of instances like this.

Quick recap: While he listened to my Donna Lee Variations, Joe thought I played a wrong note.

First of all, what makes it ‘wrong?’ Joe thought it was wrong because I played it differently from Parker’s recording. But I played it that way on purpose. Is it still a wrong note? Of course not! I played it exactly how it was meant to be played. I won’t mention the countless examples of respected artists performing standards with ‘wrong’ notes over ‘wrong’ chords in the ‘wrong’ key in the ‘wrong’ time signature with the ‘wrong’ phrasing and the ‘wrong’ instrumentation (‘wrong’ means: different from the original version/recording)

Side note: Some interesting questions you might consider: Would Charlie Parker (or Miles) have cared that I changed their notes? Generally speaking, how has the tradition accepted ‘wrong’ notes? Does that matter to you?

I might as well reveal the real absurdity, which is that Joe plays ‘wrong’ notes all the time with the rest of us. It’s safe to say that there are too many contradictions and inconsistencies to assume that one silly note is at the heart of this situation.

So why did Joe care about my ‘wrong’ note?

Here’s a likely possibility: Joe didn’t really care about the note. But he used my ‘wrong’ note as an opportunity to publicly expose what he thought was ignorance and inexperience. Yikes!

This opens up a variety of issues. Stay tuned for Part 3!

The next few posts revolve around an incident I had with a person named Joe. Joe is about twenty years older than me; a generation older. We’ve never met. He’s respected. I know who he is, and respect him. He doesn’t know who I am.

As I’m sound checking for a performance, Joe is hearing my Donna Lee Variations for the first time. As I finish the first variation, Joe yells out, “Watch that second-last note buddy….”

I ignore the comment and continue with the second variation. When I finish, Joe yells out again: “Hey buddy, you’re playing that last phrase wrong! Check out the recording. The last notes go like this: [singing]. Not: [singing]. You gotta check out Bird’s recording and fix that note!”

It’s difficult to describe the context here. Joe had no humour or kindness in his voice. Nor was he trying to politely educate me by generously sharing his knowledge. This was a put-down in the strictest sense. He was marking territory. He was making a division. He was being inappropriate.

I wanted to respond, but was frozen and speechless. An internal battle ensued as to how to appropriately resolve this. I felt I needed to defend myself without compromising the relationship. It was an awkward situation. A friend who is also well-respected in the jazz community was nearby. He was listening and was familiar was my arrangement. He said to me in good humour, but loud enough for Joe to hear: “Don’t worry, he doesn’t know.” I continued and finished my sound-check. There were no more words from Joe for the rest of the night…Only vibes.

I’m happy to be writing about this. There are so many issues here.

Stay tuned for Part 2!

I received criticism on the dichotomy I set up in my post Balance and Elephant in the Room. I’d like to clarify:

I purposefully don’t preach jazz education vs. classical education. I preach read-execute and listen-execute; there’s a subtle difference.

My theory is that a good balance between read-execute, listen-execute and their variations will create better all-around and higher skilled musicians. As a music educator, I don’t care if teachers are training students in the Baroque tradition, as long as there’s balance between read-execute and listen-execute.

My job as a jazz educator is to find ways to establish and maintain this balance in jazz education’s infrastructure. And as it happens, jazz education more naturally offers a better balance than the alternative.

Classical education could train better all-around, higher-skilled artists, but it doesn’t ever focus its efforts on the tradition that would make that happen.

For my critics, keep in mind that listen-execute entails much more than learning Happy Birthday by ear and improvising a piano accompaniment. It’s certainly much more than having the skill to identify intervals, chord qualities and play back simple melodies. Listen-execute is about students playing, improvising and communicating in ensembles. It’s about conversing, reacting and responding musically.

Listen-execute is about the community.

That’s why jazz education is the future of music education.

Some students don't get it.

• They show up late
• They're all talk
• They're disrespectful
• They expect immediate results
• They have big egos
• They don't take care of business
• They have a sense of entitlement
• They expect compliments
• They don’t work
• They don’t care

This isn't news to teachers; There have always been and always will be students like this.

Side note: I've actually heard colleagues comment that the number of students who don't “get it” has been increasing over the years. Is this in fact a growing trend? Why?

This discussion isn’t for students; it’s for teachers. To what extent can we help them figure it out?

First of all, what does “figuring it out” entail? Easily put, it means taking care of all the issues listed above! That’s enough to make most teachers happy! But on another level, it could also mean finding and accepting one’s place in the tradition, respecting the old-school while carving out a path for one’s self, discovering individuality, embracing it and devoting oneself to cultivating it through music.

Figuring it out, especially on a deep level, has to come from individual effort. For that reason, it’s understandable that some teachers won’t address this issue. From their perspective, figuring it out is far above and beyond their call of duty, and may or may not happen regardless of what they say and teach. “Students have to figure it out on their own and at their own pace.”

Some teachers make it their primary mission and try to force their students to figure it out. From another angle, institutions create the illusion that students with decent grades (or a degree!) have figured things out. But any teacher from that scene can attest that this isn’t always the case.

I think most teachers are inclined to nudge their students. Nudging could range from subtle hints to dropping the hammer. If it works at all, it would only solve some of the issues listed above and may be only temporarily.

Nudging may not get them closer to figuring things out, but this is up for discussion!

How much should we nudge students? Should we nudge them at all?

When I was working on ‘Solo,’ I reached a point when I was deciding if I should approach record companies. I contacted a number of friends and colleagues and asked them for their advice. “Should I go for it?”

All of them, with the exception of Braid, told me to do it without a record company. Reasons varied, but were along the lines of: “You’re not ready,” and “It’s better to do it yourself.” I have two issues with this advice:

Firstly, it’s counterproductive. Had I taken their advice, I would have been responsible for artwork, manufacturing, licensing, distribution and publicity. Inevitably, with zero experience in any of these, mistakes would have been made, money wasted, precious time spent and most importantly, quality would have been lost.

There are experienced people whose job is to manage these tasks. Artists should be eager to work with them. They may not be eager to work with you, but nothing ventured, nothing gained right? Go for it!

Secondly, I’m afraid this counterproductive advice is part of a broader culture of negative education. I’ve heard many variations on these phrases:

• There are no gigs
• You need to teach to live
• Leave Canada to be successful in Canada
• The music biz is evil
• Record companies are evil
• Don’t go for it

These statements may be true for some people, but preaching them will prevent students from reaching their fullest potential. Let’s rethink this attitude because taking Braid’s advice was one of my best career moves; I’m extremely grateful for his insight.

Don’t listen to people who tell you not to go for it.

In case you missed it, here’s the link to Part 3

Quick recap: I’m skeptical it can exist, but I’m trying to create a jazz piano formula for non-specialist teachers to give to their beginner students. I’m going to try and expand on the three parts mentioned in the previous post.

The chords are easy to expand on. No more root position; use inversions and better voice leading:



Add the Charleston; shift it through the measure.



Here’s a bass line they can learn:



If they listen to the recording, maybe they’ll figure this out:



Here’s why this process is shady: With the exception of the chord inversions, every expansion is coming from my knowledge of the jazz tradition. A non-specialist would have no way of figuring out that bass line without listening to a recording (which won’t happen) or learning it through me. That means whenever a student is ready for the next step, his/her teacher would have to come back to me to get more information! That’s a problem on many levels. Namely, his/her teacher would be acting more as a relay than a teacher. It’d also be impossible to shape lessons around the student’s individual capabilities and interests.

The best solution I can think of is for the teacher to pass his/her students on to a specialist, someone who knows instinctively how to play Freddie Freeloader. Maybe he/she can keep the students and give them the above material over three lessons. But preferably, they take lessons from a specialist sooner than later. Remember, I haven’t even touched improvisation!

The question: If our goal is to build another room, to what degree, if any, can the new room include non-specialists?

My answer: Non-specialist piano teachers can stay for three lessons max!

Thanks for reading!

In case you missed it, here’s the link to Part 2.

If you’re interested, this is my attempt at a formula for non-specialists for their piano students. It’s very limiting, but it’s a start.

First and foremost, tell the students to start listening to jazz records. Hopefully they can make a connection. I recommend Oscar Peterson’s Night Train because that was my first record. I also recommend Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue because I handed out a lead sheet of Freddie Freeloader. The point is that students are hearing (and hopefully enjoying) these tunes, and then take steps to learning the tunes themselves. Piano students might like Night Train better than Kind of Blue, so I would consider handing out lead sheets for C Jam Blues and Night Train instead (emphasis on the blues).

Side Note: For all you James P. Johnson fans, notice that my starting point for beginners is Freddie Freeloader from the 50s. I start here because this is where I began my jazz education. When you’re shaping your lesson plans, where will you start?

I’ll divide the tune into three parts: bass, harmony/chords and melody/improv. Bass parts are played in the left hand, melodiy/improv is played in the right hand and harmony/chords can be played in either hand (I also handed out a chord chart). The student’s challenge is internalizing all three parts individually and then pairing them with another part.

• Bass + harmony/chords
• Bass + melody/improv
• Harmony/chords + melody/improv

I’ll show you. For the sake of example, I’ll only use measures 5-8 of Freddie Freeloader. Also, the melody/improv part will be restricted to just melody. For a number of reasons, figuring out an improv formula is very complicated.

The lead sheet:



The three parts, in their most basic form:



Paired in three different ways:



So far, I think non-specialists can handle this. What’s next!?

Usually, the next step is derived from either recordings or the guidance of a specialist. We can’t assume young students (or their teachers) have the skills or patience to figure out what’s happening on the recording. That leaves us with needing a specialist, but we don’t have that either. So if we bother to continue, things will get shady from this point on.

I’ll try. Stay tuned for part 4!

In case you missed it, here’s the link to Part 1

I received mostly positive feedback from these workshops I conducted but I received a few criticisms as well. One critique was from a teacher who thought I spent too much time talking about elephants and not enough time giving practical information that they can teach their students. She/he expected formulas and shortcuts, but I gave them elephants and bombshells.

In defense of my workshops, I do give practical information. I try to divide my time evenly between elephants, answering questions and giving practical information. I’ll also play a tune or two. In response to this critique however, I would raise the issue I have with these workshops: The problem isn’t how I balance presenting practical information with elephants. The problem is whether I should be giving practical information to non-specialists in the first place! Should I even bother!?

Remember, I’m teaching teachers. That’s why I spend so much time on elephants. I think it would be justified if I spent the entire workshop on elephants. Simply put, the message would be: “If you have students interested in learning jazz piano, please send them to someone more experienced in the jazz tradition.” But this is up for discussion!

So the question is, from Another Elephant: If our goal is to build another room, to what degree, if any, can the new room include non-specialists?

From another angle: To what extent can jazz education follow a formula?

Stay tuned for part 3!

In case you missed it, please read my post: Elephant in the Room

I want this room to be huge! Ideally, we’re not excluding anyone. But there are elephants everywhere! And they’re getting bigger and bigger. I’m afraid to say that that means our room may have to be smaller and smaller.

Let me explain. No more rooms, no more elephants.

Teachers from the ‘read-execute’ tradition are beginning to see that jazz education offers a better balance between ‘listen-execute’ and ‘read-execute.’ They want to incorporate jazz into their curriculum. In some cases, they want to offer jazz as an alternative.

Wouldn’t it be beautiful if we could get all these teachers together, give them a few workshops and then send them on their way to properly teach the jazz tradition? Wouldn’t that be ideal? We could start changing the world tomorrow!

Unfortunately, I’m discovering more and more that their infrastructure can’t support jazz education. From the big music institutions (i.e. RCM) to the individual teachers, there are so many obstacles (elephants) preventing it from happening properly. Moreover, they don’t believe that jazz education requires specialists and so the ‘jazz education’ they do offer is a mere extension of their current program. For example, teachers enroll in a few workshops, they get their students to learn ‘Happy Birthday’ by ear and they add an Oscar Peterson transcription to the grade 7 exam syllabus. All shortcuts.

If jazz education wants to go mainstream (students aged 16 and below), it’ll either have to start independently in very small pockets with groups of specialists, or institutions will have to incorporate these specialists into their programs (which would likely require a complete overhaul). Lately, I’ve been thinking that the former is more realistic.

Here’s another elephant: All of these workshops I’ve been giving have focused on ‘how to teach jazz piano.’ But what’s a jazz education without jazz ensembles? Do these teachers have room in their studios for a piano, bass, drums and horns? Nope! Their infrastructure can’t support it! Not to mention that it would take another workshop to explain that they’re not qualified to direct a jazz ensemble!

This raises an issue with these workshops. Stay tuned for Part 2!

From Ali Berkok’s Facebook-comments on Another Elephant (Facebook link):

“I really don't think a kid younger than 16 is at all ready for jazz.

I'll elaborate a bit: I think you can teach a younger person how to swing. I think a good jazz player, however, should have an understanding of how most of the developments in the music come from a degree of rejection of what went before. There's also the concept of musical movements being couched in greater social changes of the time they come from. You also have to know enough standard practice period music to get how jazz turns those conventions on their head (i.e. rhythm). I suppose there are some pre-teens who might be able to handle all that, but I've never met any.”

I disagree so strongly that I consider this a non-issue. The fundamentals for a jazz education can start at age three. Kids can improvise and play tunes at age ten. Pre-teens can communicate musically in jazz ensembles. Mid-teens can write tunes and start their own jazz ensembles.

I know this because I lived it. And kids are still living it at the Humber College Community Music School.

But there’s still something lingering:

Jazz education is maximum 40 years old in Canada (if not in North America and the world). Programs have been springing up (some with considerable resistance) in colleges and universities all across the country. Naturally, jazz is gradually seeping down into high schools where graduates of these colleges and universities are teaching and making a living.

Side Note: Remember this post? It fits nicely, especially these few sentences:

“Arts institutions serve much broader a purpose than creating performers…Not all graduates have the skills, perseverance (or desire) to be performers. But that experience remains with them forever. They have a unique perspective. They have a cultured perspective.”

I’m very fortunate that I’m part of the first generation of music students who had access to a jazz education from when I was 3 years old (at HCCMS). To my knowledge, it was the first of its kind in the world and is still at the forefront of jazz education today. I’m excited to think that more programs like HCCMS will be appearing over the next 20 years!

Unfortunately, this movement is challenged at the post-secondary level by classical-music education. That’s beginning to change. The jazz community also challenges it. That’s changing too, but there are still plenty of issues out there creating resistance (The Carolina Shout incident, Teachout’s article, Old vs. New, Ali’s comments etc.). They’re all related in that they expose the community’s disunity. I hope that ironing out these issues is only a matter of fully realizing the education movement. After all, how many of them would exist if jazz education was 80 years old?

I’ll be bold: I think this 40-year-old process is part of a greater movement that can change the face of music education. It can change the world! It’s only a matter of blood, sweat, tears and patience!

My job: Pave the way; Promote unity.

Please read my previous post: Elephant in the Room

I spotted another elephant today. She’s hiding; I’ll show you.

I mentioned in the previous post that these music teachers recognize the imbalance and want to change, but don’t know how. What I should have said is that they want to change and think they know how. They hired me didn’t they?

“Mr. Donnelly, please teach us how to teach jazz!”

I had one hour to teach “how to teach jazz” to music teachers who know nothing about the jazz tradition. There’s the elephant! No, not the ‘one-hour.’ I’m referring to the last part.

Let me be clearer: These teachers are not qualified to teach jazz just as I’m not qualified to teach Russian. No number of workshops will change this. No number of workshops can substitute for blood, sweat and tears.

Here’s the problem: Anything other than blood, sweat and tears is a shortcut. I don’t believe in shortcuts; they’re beside the point. Otherwise we’re resorting to teaching RCM-approved Oscar Peterson solos, jazzy versions of Pachabel’s Canon in D and other shortcuts/variations. So what can you teach them to teach that’s not a shortcut?

Deeper: If our goal is to build another room, to what degree, if any, can the new room include non-specialists?

Yesterday, I conducted a workshop for the British Columbia Registered Music Teachers Association.

The topic: How to Teach Jazz Piano.

The class: Remember this post? Generally, the class consisted of piano teachers from the ‘read-execute’ tradition who are encountering more and more students interested in learning “jazz.”

The elephant: I’m not interested in RCM-approved transcriptions of Oscar Peterson solos. I’m not interested in jazzy versions of Pachabel’s Canon in D. I’m interested in a fundamental shift in methodology. They need to embrace a ‘listen-execute’ tradition. And I want them to embrace the jazz ‘listen-execute’ tradition!

Every music teacher I spoke to recognized the imbalance. They all want to change, but don’t know how. The elephant is getting bigger.

Our goal: Build another room!

UPDATE: I spotted another elephant.

From my previous post:

“We take for granted how limiting most people’s vocabulary is for describing music… Open up their capacity to express themselves. Guide the development of their vocabulary.

I’ve heard people express contempt for post-secondary music institutions. Their viewpoint is that communities are being flooded with musicians who are offsetting the balance between supply and demand. There are too many players and not enough gigs.

After writing the previous post, I was opened up to implications that are far above and beyond the issue of supply and demand. Arts institutions serve much broader a purpose than creating musicians, and it relates to the quoted text above.

For one thing, arts institutions also create directors, promoters, programmers, agents, managers, presenters, donors, sponsors, educators, journalists, critiques, radio hosts, page-turners, presidents, CEOs, public officials, taxi drivers, factory workers, moms, dads and a host of other arts appreciators and supporters. Not all graduates have the skills, perseverance (or desire) to be performers. But that experience remains with them forever. They have a unique perspective. They have a cultured perspective.

Here’s another benefit: Arts institutions often host a plethora of cultural activities for the public to experience. Just at the University of Toronto’s Faculty of Music there are hundreds of performances every year that are open to the general public. Every performance is an education. All audience members are broadened with new expressions and granted a means to express it.

How does all of this affect society? How does this shape the human spirit?

This is new territory for me and I have more exploring to do. I’m just skimming the surface. But I’m not interested in the issue of supply and demand any longer. Let’s talk about the bigger picture.

I’m happy to be teaching at the National Music Camp of Canada for the next two weeks. This week, the students are between eight and thirteen years old and for one of my classes, I conduct a ‘jazz listening session.’

I prepared a list of songs to play for them and asked them two simple questions: Is this jazz? Why or why not? My strategy isn’t to look for right or wrong answers or to plug them with my favourite jazz tunes. Instead, I want them to develop a vocabulary for describing music that is consistent with how they feel about what they’re hearing.

For example, one student said he loves drum & bass because it’s repetitive. Later on, he mentioned that he doesn’t like classical music because it’s repetitive. I asked him to clarify the inconsistency and he said that drum & bass is catchy-repetitive while classical music is just repetitive.

Most of them used the word fast to describe jazz. I played them a recording of Art Tatum playing Tiger Rag. Most of them agreed that it wasn’t jazz because it was too fast and too showy! But Bill Evan’s rendition of Here’s That Rainy Day was jazz even through it’s really slow.

Jobin’s recording of Samba De Uma Nota So was considered jazz, but his recording of Desafinado wasn’t jazz because it had vocals. One student thinks vocals in jazz makes it ‘bad-jazz’ (Kurt Elling’s version of Tania Jean was ‘good-jazz,’ but only for the first 15 seconds).

They were on the fence when I played them Mars from Coltrane’s Interstellar Space. But they all agreed that he was a ‘show-off.’

The entire session was filled with observations similar to this. I never implied what I thought was or wasn’t jazz, but I often challenged their definitions and viewpoints. Most of the time, I would repeat and question their statements and they would immediately pick up on the inconsistency. “There are never violins in jazz?” Or “Can jazz be slow?”

We take for granted how limiting most people’s vocabulary is for describing music. Even though I’m dealing with children, I would think that grown adults with little to no music education would have similar difficulties. How many people know the difference between a double bass and a cello? Can you imagine how they would describe jazz?

I haven’t wrestled with all the implications, but I feel there’s a wealth of information here that hits many levels. For example, if you’re wondering about how most people hear and describe your music, I would ask the kids. If you’re concerned about the future of jazz and wonder why it’s ‘dying,’ I would ask the kids. If you want to raise jazz from the grave, I would start educating the kids.

Open up their capacity to express themselves. Guide the development of their vocabulary.

PS: Before I played Brad Mehldau’s rendition of Radiohead’s Paranoid Android (from Largo), I asked them: “is Radiohead jazz?” One of the kids asked: “who’s Radiohead?” The kid beside him said in a very familiar tone: “You don’t know who Radiohead is!?”