Consider this hypothetical experiment:

You’re at a coffee house, and you intentionally drop a $10 bill on the floor in front of a cashier.  You sit at a table and observe how customers react (you also have plenty of replacement bills!).

I imagine a multitude of ways people may react:

• Some people wouldn’t notice the $10 on the floor.
• Some people would notice, but ignore it.
• Some would pick it up and buy themselves a coffee.
• Some may pick it up, and tell the next person in line that they just found $10!
• Some may pick it up and buy two coffees – one for themselves and one for the next person.
• Some may hand it in to the cashier.

What would you do?

When I think about “luck,” I think about people who know how to take advantage of opportunities and translate them into success.  The unlucky person doesn’t notice the $10 on the floor.  Though, maybe he does notice it, but doesn’t know how to gain mileage.

We are confronted with circumstances like these every day.  There are figurative $10 bills all around us.  Anybody can pick them up.  Why don’t they?

That’s complicated.

Recognizing and acting on opportunity is a creative endeavor.  It takes study and practice!

Attention Canada’s Jazz Community:

The deadline for my blog competition is about three weeks away (Jan 30th).

If you’re a member of the Canadian jazz community, please forward this notice to your students, friends and colleagues.  This is important for a number of reasons:

For Professionals:

The future of our music lies with kids and students.  This is an opportunity for us to reach out to the younger generation.  We need to be open to how they think and how they perceive their future.

For Students:

This is an opportunity to help yourself and the community you want to belong to (music, jazz, classical, pop or otherwise). This blog competition is an open channel to professional musicians.  We’re listening!

Ultimately, your feedback will be used for your benefit.  At the very least, for our understanding, but also so we can craft more optimal learning environments for students like you.

For Everyone:

Issues are solved and pushed forward using common ground and compromise.  The ramblings of the jazz community suggest that finding common ground and compromise is much needed! So let’s communicate!

Please forward this message along!

Suppose your raison d’être is to perform Oscar Peterson solos note for note. The potential for creativity and innovation here is endless. First of all, nobody’s doing this. Even if there was, he/she wouldn’t be able to mimic Oscar exactly; there would always be room for “improvement.” Improvement would require creative, innovative thinking.

Innovation is simply “the introduction of something new”.  It could be a new idea, method, product or perspective. The best copycats need to be creative, disciplined thinkers. They require new, innovative ideas in order to be better than other copycats. The person who figures out how to best mimic Oscar Peterson is no different than the person who invents the best photocopier. They’re both innovators.

The person who mimics Oscar Peterson is no less innovative than Miles Davis. Yet, the jazz community doesn’t encourage copycats. Why?

Innovation can be subtle; it can also slap you in the face. It depends on what you already know, and what turns you on. A copycat will slap you in the face if you don’t realize he’s copying. Even if you know he’s copying, his methods may still impress you, if that’s what turns you on. Then again, if copycats don’t interest you, no matter how innovative his methods are, you won’t care.

The jazz community isn’t interested in copycats. Fine. But that doesn’t make them any less innovative or expressive. When the community encourages “innovation,” they’re really referring to innovation within a narrower field – a field dictated by taste and tradition.

I recently wrote about my friend and collaborator, Kornel Wolak. I claimed that he’s the most spontaneous classical musician I know.

I’m sure this statement raises some eyebrows; spontaneity and classical music are often considered diametrical.

But it’s possible!

Classical music is notoriously structured and rigorous. This is evident just by examining its notation, where everything from notes, dynamics, phrasings, articulations and tempos are marked. But despite its rigor, musical notation cannot capture every possible variable.

Also, there are multiple ways to interpret classical notation, even within a certain style. A musician could play the same passage with two different interpretations – both could be acceptable within the style.

Also consider what happens when a classical musician or ensemble “makes a mistake”. Where the mistake occurs, and how the musician(s) correct themselves, add variances to a performance of classical music.

Though small, narrow, and perhaps undetectable to the untrained ear, these variances allow the artist a certain amount of freedom and adds “unknown” factors to a performance. This is where the potential for spontaneity lies. I say “potential” because not all artists will have the ability or desire to take advantage.

Spontaneity, or perceived spontaneity, lends a kind of magic to a performance; it’s in every artist’s best interest to at least consider its advantages. They include an enhanced connection between the performer and the music, as well as the performer and the audience.

Nevertheless, as I wrote in my previous post, spontaneity in classical music requires three things: 1) Artists with extremely high levels of discipline, 2) Artists willing to rehearse rigorously/obsessively and 3) Artists who are willing to take risks.

Artists with Discipline

The best classical musicians are already extremely disciplined. But spontaneous performers require an even deeper understanding of themselves and the music they play.

Improvisers often liken improvisation to the regurgitation of a vocabulary. Improvising within a classical framework is no different; performers can build their vocabulary on all of the possible variances I discussed earlier. For example, if there are multiple ways to interpret and perform a particular passage, a spontaneous musician should be familiar with them. Eventually, all of the possibilities will amalgamate in the moment during a performance.

But really, the process can be deeper and more organic than this. Suppose, when interpreting a particular passage, you liken it to “falling in love.” Of course, there are many different ways to fall in love, and the notation may have the flexibility to communicate those differences. The spontaneous classical musician needs to be aware of the notation’s flexibility, as well as how it relates to “falling in love” (so it would help if he/she has experience with love!).

In the moment, the musician can say: “how am I falling in love today?” and have the ability to capture that through music. That’s one example of spontaneity in classical music. It not only requires extreme discipline, but also an intimacy with life and living.

Obsessive Rehearsing

Apply the idea of vocabulary development to ensemble music. If a soloist is spontaneous in how he/she interprets a particular passage, the accompanist needs to know how to react (and vise versa). There’s only one way to achieve this: with obsessive, rigorous rehearsal.

What do I mean by obsessive?

I mean the willingness to rehearse one page, or one passage of music for hours on end. There is no limit to the potential variances in classical music (as discussed above), so there should be no limit to how members of an ensemble can communicate, interact and play off one another. This takes many, many hours of dedicated, disciplined rehearsal.

When Kornel and I rehearse, we start by fitting the notes together – that’s easy. Next, we explore and bounce ideas off one another. For example, Kornel may play a certain passage one way, I’ll follow, and we’ll rehearse it a million times. “Until it works” as Kornel says. Then he or I may recommend playing it differently. We’ll rehearse that a million times too. In the moment, we’ll know a multitude of ways we could perform this passage, and we’ll be able to react accordingly.

In a sense, we’re striving to unlock our personality from the music. Personality can be attributed to spontaneity. Classical musicians are often more rigid in how they perform music so the potential for showing their personality is lost

Taking Risks

Of course, all this discipline and rehearsing is useless unless the performer is willing to take risks in front of an audience.

Spontaneity is risky because it exposes your personality, and it’s impossible to vibe with everybody!

It’s also risky because spontaneous performers are explorers. When you’re exploring, you’re bound to make “mistakes,” or play something inconsistent with what people are familiar with (i.e. the written music). This may be intentional or not, but either way, you’re exposing yourself on a deep level. For one thing, it’s easier for audiences to hear what you know and what you don’t know.

You’re also more likely to “lose” your audience with spontaneity. When performers and listeners meet, it’s around a figurative common-ground. In jazz music, the common-ground is in familiar tunes (among many other things). In classical music, the common-ground is in well-known pieces composed by well-known composers. But unlike jazz musicians, classical performers don’t take liberties and make drastic departures from the common-ground, nor does the audience expect them to do so.

Making departures from the common-ground is always risky because not all listeners will have the skill or desire to keep up. It’s especially risky in classical music because it’s not common practice.

A skilled improviser however, knows how to balance between establishing common-ground, exploring, developing and building trust without excluding too many people (more on this later!). The point here is that there’s more at stake with spontaneity; improvisers put it all on the line. But the risk has great potential for reward.

It’s often suggested that classical music doesn’t support improvising or spontaneity. I think this represents a narrow view of spontaneity. This topic warrants deeper reflection and I plan to explore it in greater depth in the next few weeks.

In the meantime, I’ll say that classical musicians have much to learn from jazz improvisers!

(and vise-versa!)

This is one of my favourites.  From Everything Happens to Me:

Download the Mp3 here: Everything Happens to Me #5

Listen to it here:

The notes here aren’t wrong, but the phrasing is!

From Everything Happens to Me:

Download the Mp3 here: Everything Happens to Me #4

Listen to it here:

Dear readers,

I’ve published an advertisement in this blog post.

I wasn’t very comfortable with this, considering it’s a product I’m unfamiliar with. So to make it up to you, I’m sponsoring a blog competition!

Eligibility:

• You must be Canadian.
• You must be a student enrolled in a post-secondary, undergraduate jazz program in Canada.
• You must be 25 years or younger.

Rules:

• Publish an online article at least 500 words in length.
• Send me a link to your article (using comments below) by January 30, 2012.
• Reflect on the following: “How do you get people out to gigs? How do you build an audience?  How do you support live music?”

Prize:

• $200
• I’ll publish your article on my website (approx 4000 viewers per month).
• Good articles will receive honourable mentions.

Ideas:

• Start a discussion.
• Engage the community.
• Read other blogs in the community. Here’s a list:
• JazzBlog.ca
• Jesse Cahill
• Pianoblabber
• Trap’d
• X…Y…Jazz

Good luck!

I’ve been on a blogging hiatus the last few months.  One reason is that I’ve been devoting a lot of time to developing two new projects:

Wolak / Donnelly Duo

Kornel Wolak is a monster clarinetist.  His specialty is classical music, though he has many traits rarely seen in classical musicians.  For one, Kornel always performs from memory.  He and I agree that music stands, sheet music, page turning and page-turners are communicative barriers.  They obstruct our personal relationship with the music, our relationship with each other, and our connection to the audience.

Second, Kornel is the most spontaneous classical musician I know.  One thing I’ve learned from Kornel is how much room there is for spontaneity in classical music.  This is rarely achieved because certain conditions need to be met in order for it to be realized:  Spontaneity requires artists with extremely high levels of discipline, artists who are willing to rehearse rigorously/obsessively, and artists who are willing to take risks.

Kornel Wolak is such an artist.  I like to say he’s the jazziest classical musician I know!

Together, we’re playing music by Mozart, Brahms, Gershwin and much more.  We also mix our programs with solo pieces.  Keep an eye out; this guy’s good.

Myriad

This jazz trio consists of Ernesto Cervini on drums and Dan Fortin on bass. As with my duo with Kornel, Myriad strives to perform without music.  Why is this so rare in jazz?

The best ensembles play without music; it’s a goal all ensembles should strive for.  But, there’s a counter argument here: Jazz is just as much about ensembles as it is about the individual.  In some cases, you could say playing in ensembles is only a means to expressing oneself.  In which case, I have no right to criticize band mates for reading music.  They can do whatever they want!  Still, relationships within an ensemble and also with an audience are best achieved without reading music.  And this is what Myriad is doing.

Another thing I’ve noticed: even though we’re dedicated to rehearsing and jamming regularly, we’d much rather “rehearse” and develop our tunes on the bandstand.  Think about it: If our goal is to cultivate a “group sound,” or to enhance relationships within the trio, can’t this be done by jamming in a basement?  Perhaps.  But you’ll learn more about yourself and the ensemble if you make mistakes in public.  There’s an element of risk in live performance; there’s more at stake.  Cultivating a group sound may be possible in your basement, but performing live will do that faster and more profoundly.

Myriad has plans to record an album, tour Canada and continue playing throughout the GTA.  Stay tuned!

How do you travel to the grocery store?

Consider your mode of transportation, route, pace, time of day, choice of clothes and anything else related to getting from point A to point B.

Consider which of these variables remain fixed for each trip, and which are flexible. For example, you may always walk to the grocery store but take different routes. Or maybe you always take the shortest, quickest route but always travel at different times of day. And do you always travel to the same grocery store?

If you observe say, the last 10 times you traveled to the grocery store, you’ll probably notice some general patterns. Those patterns make up a framework or structure. Further, you’ll also notice factors that are generally inconsistent, without pattern and structure. I think of these things as being free and spontaneous.

This is what interests me: Structure and Freedom!

‎”The choosiness of human beings in picking their mates has driven the human mind into a history of frenzied expansion for no reason except that wit, virtuosity, inventiveness, and individuality turn other people on. It is a somewhat less uplifting perspective on the purpose of humanity than the religious one, but it is also rather liberating. Be different” – Matt Ridley, The Red Queen

I’m becoming more convinced that finding the right balance between structure and freedom is an individual’s key to leading a fulfilling, creative life. As Matt Ridley suggests, it may even be the meaning of life!

The grocery store illustrates the concept of structure and freedom. As you can imagine though, structure can be observed everywhere and in everything.

Consider the layout of a grocery store, its location, and the organization required to mange it. Consider jazz music: spontaneity is a much-celebrated characteristic in jazz, but at the core of jazz tunes, jazz bands and jazz venues are common patterns, frameworks and structures. Consider the practice habits of a jazz pianist: how she practices, what she practices, and every minuscule movement of her fingers.

All of these things are governed by a balance between structure and freedom. Further, changes to any of these things can be interpreted simply as a realignment of structure and freedom.

Suppose the jazz pianist wants to improve her finger technique. She’ll have to impose more structure on her fingers and practice routine. Suppose the grocery store is suffering from poor worker morale. The manager will have to introduce new policies to motivate workers. Maybe this means imposing new rules and loosening old rules. Maybe this means replacing the manager with someone who balances the workplace differently.

Having an optimal balance between structure and freedom is extremely important and may be responsible for learning, inspiration and creativity. Here’s one of my favourite quotes from Stravinsky’s Poetics of Music:

“I experience a sort of terror when, at the moment of setting to work and finding myself before the infinitude of possibilities that present themselves, I have the feeling that everything is permissible to me. If everything is permissible to me, the best and the worst; if nothing offers me any resistance, then any effort is inconceivable, and I cannot use anything as a basis, and consequently every undertaking becomes futile.”

This idea fascinates me because it’s one of those universal, all encompassing, foundational, concepts. It applies to running a business and dating as much as it applies to learning and music making.

My reflections here are only scratching the surface, and you can expect the relationship between structure and freedom to be a major theme in my writing over the next while!