Published by Joseph on 04 Sep 2008
Chicago Jazz Fest report part III
Sunday afternoon and evening I returned to the main stage for the festival’s final three sets. First up, Holland’s 9-piece ICP (Instant Composer’s Pool) Orchestra, led by Misha Mengelberg, and anchored by his forty-plus years collaboration with drummer Hans Bennink. This set was a revelation. ICP plays free music interspersed with rigorously arranged pieces. Their range was astonishing, from the avant-garde classical sounding sub-group of piano, violin, cello, and acoustic bass, to full on 40’s big-band jazz, from outrageous cacophonous growls and hollers to superbly melodic post-bop solos, from chaotic textures in which each musician seemed to be inhabiting his or her own universe, to a tightly swinging unit. ICP showed more dynamic and textural range by far than any other performance I heard during the festival, as well as a good deal more humor. They explored the most challenging fringes of music while keeping the audience riveted and entertained.
Next up was 8 Bold Souls, led by this year’s Chicago Jazz Festival Artist-in-Residence, reedist Ed Wilkerson Jr. A horn heavy octet which also includes a cellist, this group largely eschewed traditional swing rhythms in favored of rhythm section grooves unique to each song. Wilkerson debuted several new compositions, which struck me as a risky move in this setting, and the band took some time to find its groove. Each song had a strong narrative form, so that the set as a whole felt like a series of short stories. Near the end of their set, Dee Dee Bridgewater joined the band for a pair of songs – another first for 8 Bold Souls – and brought down the house. A consummate vocalist with a smoky, powerful voice and showmanship to match, I was especially struck by the uniqueness of her scatting, evocative of mythical birds and insects. That’s right, insects. Mythical insects. It was crazy good. The band chose to play one final song after Dee Dee’s departure, which I thought was going to be a horrible mistake. But they pulled it off, with an energetic, idiosyncratic bluesy composition featuring superb solos by Wilkerson on tenor sax and Robert Griffin on trumpet.
Last up, the festival’s closing set with Ornette Coleman’s quartet, featuring Ornette on alto sax, violin, and trumpet, his son Denardo Coleman on drums, acoustic bassist Tony Falanga, and electric bassist Al McDowell. What can I say about Ornette, the prophet of free jazz, who’s music in the 50’s was so outrageous that he was frequently assaulted in clubs, and who last year won the Pulitzer Prize? His set was as challenging, and as rewarding, as ever. The curious combination of basses led McDowell to play virtually the entire show in his upper register, sounding more like a guitarist than a bassist. Denardo was the group’s engine, playing a constantly shifting arsenal of rhythms and textures. Falanga showed his range with a reading of Bach’s solo cello prelude in D major on the bass (!) while the rest of the band improvised freely, with Ornette scraping the violin in violent contrast to the bass. Cacaphonous, sacrilegious, and wholly appropriate, the beauty of Bach and its dissonance in the modern world were evoked simultaneously. Ornette’s tried and true folk/jazz melodies and vocal sounding saxophone gestures were all on display, as was his tendency to crack, spit, and sputter out of tune notes on the trumpet and violin. Some of my friends at the show were Ornette virgins – their response seemed representative of much of the audience: astonishment, enjoyment, and the feeling that they were watching a mad professor frequently trying to sabotage his band.
There are many reasons for this. One is that practicing alone can often mean practicing out of context. Live music is dynamic and fluid, it’s a river running, sometimes quiet and serene, sometimes racing in rapids. The practice that you do at home is to prepare you to jump in and ride this stream. It’s careful and controlled – you put on the metronome and practice finding the groove as a rhythm guitarist; you practice scales and then use them to make melodies over a loop
So your practice at home is honing your skills, putting tools in your toolbox. Then when you play with others, you’ll be surprised. At first you won’t even be able to use these tools. You feel awkward and self-conscious. But you try anyway, and soon you are beginning to get the hang of it. And then you are surprised by the music you are making. This experience gives you both positive feedback, and negative feedback, each of which guides you and feeds your desire to practice more. When things go right in your jam session, it feels so good you can’t wait to go home and practice and learn more. And when things go wrong, you discover your limits, and now you know what you need to work on in the practice room in order to go beyond them.
I recently began meeting with student who had been studying with a couple of other teachers, but wasn’t getting what he wanted out of lessons. He’s a fellow with a real passion for blues and rock guitar, as well as dedication, and good musical instincts – a natural sense of rhythm and phrasing. But although he’d been introduced to a lot of scales and riffs, he wasn’t really able to jam on songs.
We’ve found a solution, to make these lessons as accessible when she returns home as they are now: videotape. Last night, Jenn brought a camera to her lesson and videotaped me going through all of the material that I’ve presented in each lesson. I explained and demonstrated all of the exercises, rhythms, fingerpicking patterns, and songs that I have written down for her each week. Now when she goes home, she can have total recall of everything we’ve covered, and the ability to see, hear, and even play along with everything we’ve done. She can take all the time she needs to study and learn the material. And if she has questions from time to time, I’ll be available by email to answer them for her.
While its’ good that he was taking some action, guitar players should take all such symptoms very seriously, and get them checked out thoroughly. Weakness, numbness, soreness and pain are early indicators of problems that can quickly get out of hand. Early intervention is the best way to stop an occasional problem from becoming a crippling disability, and there are many types of health practitioners who can help you diagnose and treat incipient problems.
Saks says that Wearing’s case makes it clear that “two very different sorts of memory could exist: a conscious memory of events (episodic memory) and an unconscious memory for procedures; and that procedural memory is unimpaired in amnesia.” Further describing procedural memory, Saks says “it is all-important that the remembering be literal, exact … repetition and rehearsal, timing and sequence are of the essence here.” Rodolfo Llinas, another neuroscientist, uses the term “fixed action pattern” (FAP) for such procedural memory.The implications of the existence and role of procedural memory for effective practice are huge. It explains why some practice – hurried, inexact, riddled with errors – is far worse than ineffective, it accomplishes negative results. Whereas practice in which a musician begins slowly and patiently, working in order through the steps of gaining familiarity, accuracy, rhythm, and finally speed, so that each repetition of a section of music is played with perfection, yields the desired result: a consistent and easy execution of even the most highly demanding music.