Some months back, for the first time, I heard pianist McCoy Turner's take on Speak Low, a Kurt Weill standard many jazz musicians play. Listening carefully to Tyner's amazing interpretation, I began analyzing my tepid version of this tune, one I've played steadily for several years. The journal entry I wrote not long after finishing my analysis oozed self-pity. Not my best moment.
Fast forward to a recent conversation with an ex-guitar teacher. When I shared how discouraging it can sometimes be to listen to someone with the speed and superhuman technique of Tyner or guitarist Joe Pass, he reminded me of the days when Miles Davis shared a stage with Charlie "Bird" Parker. What if Miles - my old friend asked me - had allowed himself to be discouraged by Bird's prodigious gifts? Think - he coached me - of what the world would have missed if Miles hadn't used what he learned playing alongside Bird as a path toward finding his own musical voice.
I've been searching for my voice on the guitar most of my adult life. And I'm grateful for those fleeting moments when it feels like I'm getting close, especially if I'm improvising at the time. But I decided long ago that it's unwise abbreviating and calling myself a jazz guitarist. I'm a guitarist who has studied and enjoys jazz, likes to improvise, and favors tunes from the Great American Songbook and jazz standards. It's a much longer explanation but a far more accurate one. Joe Pass, Wes Montgomery, and Pat Metheny are jazz guitarists. And so is that ex-teacher of mine who reminded me recently to keep searching for my voice and remember that speed is just one element, and sometimes not the most important one.
Hi Pat, I enjoyed reading this post and Iidentified with it wholly. I often tell people I’m a jazz guitarist when they ask what I do for a living, but I agree with you. I cringe a little bit when I say it. I enjoy hearing your insight about the thinking of a jazz musician.
ReplyDeleteAnonymous; Thanks for the comment. As for my "insight about the thinking of a jazz musician", I'd be more comfortable putting "aspiring" in front of "jazz" in that phrase.
DeletePat, you are an extremely talented guitarist who expresses himself through many different styles. Many musicians have not synthesized the various influences you have into one individual.And that defines you as an artist. That’s something to be very proud of, Not many people reach goals you have attained, and in my mind, that’s a very special achievement.
ReplyDeletePeter; Thanks for the comment; good to see you back in Patstan. Bigger thanks for the kind and encouraging words.
DeleteYour last line reminded me of the phrase I use frequently in dance: "speed is the illusion of mastery."
ReplyDeleteInes; Thanks for the quote - it's going directly into my notebook.
DeleteI am not a musician and have zero musical talent, but I love listening to music. When it comes to jazz, I find that listening to some of the greats like Charlie Parker or Thelonious Monk is not pleasing. I understand that the technical virtuosity of these artists is amazing, but the music doesn't move me and ultimately feels like the musician is just showing off. I am a writer and I can be very clever with words, but being clever is meaningless when you're trying to create a character or tell a story if that cleverness calls attention to itself. The same is true for using big words. If the writer keeps using words the reader doesn't know, all he or she accomplishes is to take reader out of the story for a moment as the reader either goes and looks up the word or reminds himself how very smart the writer. I believe the writer needs to DISAPPEAR when telling a story; otherwise, he's simply saying, "Look at me. Look at me." That's what Thomas Pynchon, whom you've written about before, does in virtually anything he writes, or, say, much of William Faulkner or James Joyce in FINNEGAN'S WAKE. For me, these works are like watching Phillipe Petit dance on a high wire. Okay, he can perform an amazing balancing act, something I couldn't pretend to do no matter how hard I tried. But after a while, So what?
ReplyDeleteJim; Thanks for the thought you put into this well-considered comment. The parallel you draw between musicians who can dazzle others with their superhuman technique (like Bird) and authors whose writing sometimes says "Look at me" (like Pynchon) strikes me as an apt one.
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