[Dixielandjazz] Jazz Is Quintessential Spontaneity

[patcooke77 at yahoo.com]

I mostly agree with Ginny's comments about reading vs. faking.
I don't want to guess what's going on in the mind of other players; but when I have to read, the chart is usuall all marked up:  cut out the next 8 bars, when you get to the end, go back to letter C and take it to the coda.  Add 4 bars for the drums and play the coda again in another key.  I'm thinking "If I don't follow this road map, I will certainly get lost, and I usually do unless I've played the thing a dozen times already.  
 
There are certainly some great reading bands out there, one of which immediately comes to mind is Bill Allred.  He has some of the best dixieland charts ever wtitten, especially the ones by Billy May and Matty Matlock.  Both Bill and his son John are two of the most talented players alive today.  I'm sure they are both at home with or without written parts.  Charts become necessary if you have more than one of the same instrument.  Bill has two trombones and two trumpets....That's enough to make the band sound like a big band, even though there's only one reed player.  But I wouldn't place all of their success on the fact that they are reading.   What is more important is that they are all excellent players.  There are also some very good bands that do not read.  And then there are some bands that reading would not help.  Wingy Manone was asked if he read music.  His famous reply was "Not enough to hurt my playing."
 
Pat Cooke


----- Original Message ----
From: Gluetje1 at aol.com
To: dixielandjazz at ml.islandnet.com
Sent: Friday, July 7, 2006 6:11:25 PM
Subject: [Dixielandjazz] Jazz Is Quintessential Spontaneity


A post on my momentary thoughts from following the posts about 10  
representative recordings, and somewhat in response to someone's (I forget who)  often 
heard, "If you have to read it, it isn't jazz."  That has never quite  made 
sense to me since I have listened to many non-reading groups playing train  
crashes instead of music, with other (non-reading groups) playing what I  opine is 
great jazz.  Likewise, I have listened as groups with music  stands in front 
of them send me into a swoon while another puts me to  sleep.  So I don't find 
the definition of what is jazz rests on "reading"  any more than literacy is a 
measure of intelligence, which it is not.  And  unless it is a group with 
which we have high familiarity, we may not realize how  "rote" a performance is.  
I have heard groups where no one ever looked at  the printed music be far 
more rote than a group who is consulting printed  music.

I think that some assume that if a paper is in front of a body, that body  is 
playing what's on the paper--that's not what's happening to my ears or in my  
experience.  Instead, a musical body is going to take a look at the piece  of 
paper as just one more piece of information that is processed in addition to  
listening to what's happening throughout the group, and making lots of  
instantaneous decisions about whether to play that written note (or chord)  or 
another, how to shape the note, how close to the printed duration do they  want 
their particular duration, what are others doing in response to what's  printed 
on their paper, etc., etc.,.  In sum, the person with the music  stand in 
front of them has more information in their arsenal of possibilities  than the 
person without same.  But that doesn't predict the result.   Some do nothing much 
with that additional information and the result is dreary  sound.  The 
musician with ample experience of hearing others and taking  their own risks has a 
ton of inside-the-head information also.   Experts become experts because their 
brain cells have formed more connecting  pathways--they use past experience 
from wherever it comes to make decisions  about what to do in the moment.

Then there is that mysterious element of vibratory energy that gifts itself  
to some performances but not others.  Sometimes that energy is  even "caught" 
in a recording.  It will perhaps more predictably occur  in groups of stable 
membership with good musical chemistry.  Yet all of us  have seen/heard it 
happen in a group together for the first time.  We don't  understand it, just 
shake our heads and say things like, "Suddenly it all  clicked and away we went."

If I could predict what would transpire at any particular performance,  I 
would take a group of Dixie wannabees to hear a dreary live performance, then  
also to an awesome performance, encouraging them to "listen up" and try to  
identify the variables that were making the difference.  One can't  absolutely 
predict the concert-to-be, but you certainly can lay good odds based  on the 
group's track record.