Thinking in Jazz

by Berliner, Paul F.

  32. Coltrane 1960, 21.

  33. Keith Jarrett spoke on “ecstatic states” at the School of Music, Northwestern University, Evanston, IL, October 19, 1987.

  34. Personal conversation, Northwestern University, Evanston, IL, July 15, 1983.

  35. Raising comparable issues in his analysis of a solo on “Blue Seven,” Schuller (1962, 245) conjectures “that Rollins had some fingering problems with the passage, and his original impulse in repeating it seems to have been to iron these out. However, after six attempts to clean up the phrase, Rollins capitulates and goes on to the next idea.” See also the same scholar’s discussion of Dizzy Gillespie’s masterful saves (1989, 434). Similarly, John Lewis explains that when “things go wrong ... many times you find a nice way of getting out of a phrase that is better than the original way you were going.” Balliett 1971, 166. As in such cases, “musicians often characterize ‘mistakes’ ... [as performing] a valued function of interrupting the pre-arranged ideas and forcing an innovative alternative.” Sawyer 1991, 14.

  36. My recollection of Maxwell’s remarks at the New York Brass Conference for Scholarships (Charles Colin, organizer) at session honoring Roy Eldridge, March 23, 1981, New York City.

  37. Zwerin 1982, 18.

  38. Similarly, Jim Hall explains that “if a solo is going well, is developing, I let it go on its own. Then I’ve reached that place where I’ve gotten out of my own way, and it’s as if I’m standing back and watching the solo play itself.” Balliett 1977, 223.

  39. Issues of the mystique of jazz are as intriguing for analysts as for improvisers. On the one hand, experiences of automaticity reported above are common among players. According to one musician, sometimes an idea “just comes out, it falls out of my mouth.” Sawyer 1991, 8–9. Henry “Red” Allen experiences it as if “somebody [is] making your lip speak, making it say things he thinks.” Balliett 1977, 13. From the standpoint of cognitive psychology, one technical explanation involves the “change from controlled processing to automatic motor processing ... [a stage of developed skill in which artists] completely dispense with conscious monitoring of motor programmes, so that the hands appear to have a life of their own, driven by the musical constraints of the situation.” Pressing 1988, 139.

  On the other hand, it can be argued that at such moments artists are, in fact, operating on different levels simultaneously, consciously creating music, while standing outside themselves and observing a process so rapidly and successfully under way in the language of music that it simply precludes the possibility or necessity of reflexive verbal intervention and redirection. As Pike (1974, 90–91) maintains, the improviser “is pursuing a definite musical goal and is engaged in a highly differentiated and precise act.... This behaviour is based on a conscious inner perception ... a rational creative process.” That is, the artist is “not behaving in terms of unconscious causes but in terms of sharply differentiated present perceptions of various musical ideas.” The precise relationship between such features of improvisation remains a matter for speculation. Hargreaves and associates (1991, 53) interpret the artists’ experience of automaticity as an indication that they are “consciously aware of playing detailed figures or ‘subroutines’ at a relatively peripheral or unconscious level, with central conscious control reserved for overall strategic or artistic planning.” Sawyer (1991, 9, 15) suggests that there is a complex interaction between the artist’s conscious and unconscious creative processes, likening the latter to the “intuitive creativity” discussed by Simonton or Martindale’s “primordial cognition,” and the former to Simonton’s “analytical creativity” or Martindale’s “conceptual cognition.” See also Bill Evans’s reflections in Evans, video 1991.

  9. Improvisation and Precomposition

  1. This famous quotation reappears in many works, including Shapiro and Hentoff (1966, 354) and Owens (1974, 1:109), who attributes the original source to Levin and Wilson (1949). Upon reading the original, I was surprised to find the quotation to be partly in the third person and not exclusively in the first person. The oft repeated variation seems consistent with Parker’s intention, however.

  2. For a description of McCoy Tyner’s practice of “improvising mode changes” and alternating between improvisations inside and outside of a composition’s designated mode, see Rinzler 1983, 122, 133.

  3. Schuller 1961, [2–3], 10–11.

  4. A music dissertation provides an important account of various aspects of the behavior of approximately one hundred vocabulary patterns [the dissertation uses the term motives] in Charlie Parker’s improvisational language. Short vocabulary patterns commonly form a part of longer pattern-complexes. Altogether, they are distinguished not only by frequency of use, but by the roles they assume and the musical contexts in which they make appearances. Some always or usually occur in a particular key or in the setting of particular chords. Others arise “almost exclusively” within the boundaries of a particular composition, or within a discrete group of compositions, and do not arise in other compositions. Some characteristically occur within a particular segment of a harmonic form, where they may begin a blues chorus, for example, or serve “primarily as a coda.” Within the contexts of larger musical statements, some patterns are typically found at the “beginnings of phrases,” and so on. Owens 1974, 1:17–18, 24–25, 92, 102, 113. See also Koch 1974–75, part 2, 77–85.

  So, too, do Porter (1985b) and Gushee (1981, 160–64, 166, 168) analyze the varied functions of formulas used by Lester Young, with Gushee enumerating Young’s predilections for degree progressions, pitch repetitions, and oscillations, particular arpeggios with an emphasis on selected pitches, blues cliches, and idiomatic saxophone expressions “such as false fingerings, rips upward to the palm keys, dramatic bombs in the extreme low register, chains of thirds.” See also the discussion of formulas with regard to John Coltrane’s improvisations in Kernfeld 1983, and with regard to Bill Evans’s improvisations in Smith 1983 and 1991.

  As this work shows, developing a base of vocabulary patterns is an integral part of the jazz musician’s learning process, and using them is an integral part of the improvisation process. At the same time, identifying precise vocabulary patterns (or “formulas” or the “formulaic system” underlying the production of individual formulas—terms adopted by jazz analysts influenced by Parry’s and Lord’s [Lord 1970] important study), and determining their function in a musical language that is not text bound presents numerous difficulties and continues to be a controversial matter. See Gushee 1981, 160; Kernfeld 1983, 9–18; Smith 1983, 137, 144, 154, 160–62, 204–6, 208, 210; and Sawyer 1991, 10.

  5. Floyd (1991, 277) elaborates upon the “non-verbal semantic value of instrumental music” and cites Murray’s (1973, 86) discussion of the Ellington band, whose soloists manage to create the analogue of verbal expressions, conveying precise moods and attitudes and engaging in rhetorical interplay. The soloist does not simply perform, but rather “states, asserts, alleges, quests, requests, or only implies, while the trumpets in the background sometimes mock and sometimes concur, as the ‘woodwinds’ moan or groan in the agony and ecstasy of sensual ambivalence and the trombones chant concurrence or signify misgivings and even suspicions (which are as likely to be bawdy as plaintive) with the rhythm section attesting and affirming.”

  6. Gushee (1981, 160, 164) also observes Young’s varied application of formulas, noting that patterns comprising “physically the same kind of gesture” serve as “a penultimate element of an eight-measure section” in one instance, and “as traditional between the first and second four-measure sections” in another. Similarly, a particular formula “which might appear to function to give LY time to think of what to do next ... also serves as a formal element in an over-all repetition scheme.” Porter (1985b, 59, 61) states that whereas one formula of Young’s consistently occurs at phrase endings, another “may begin on any beat and occurs at phrase endings as well as during the middle of phrases.” Owens (1974, 1:112) observes that in so
me Parker performances the “same introduction also serves as a coda.”

  7. In the language of music, “ideas” themselves may be &pecific or general, or comprise a combination of specific and general properties. As suggested earlier, improvisers sometimes draw upon general musical features or principles to generate specific versions of patterns, while at other times they generalize from the details they appreciate in specific patterns and formulate larger principles from them that subsequently serve as guidelines. The precise circumstances of performances affect this process, of course, for artists must ultimately contend with whichever representation of an idea occurs to them in the moment, whether specific or general.

  8. In such instances, it can be argued that “each improvisation has a history of similar, related performances.... [Although] no two performances will be exactly alike, one must include a consideration of past events that act as preparation for a present event.” Tirro 1974, 296, 298.

  9. For interview with Clark Terry, see Beach 1991, 12.

  10. For the properties of the pentatonic scale, see Benward and Wildman 1984, 89.

  11. Ellington 1980, 47.

  12. In his analysis of Lester Young’s solos from a “schematic” point of view, Gushee (1981, 165) also describes the ways in which improvisers can explicitly indicate the structure of the piece in their solos. Young commonly marked eight-bar units strongly “by long silences, statements of tonic harmony or both,” and subtly articulated four-bar units “by changes in direction or indefinite (‘ghost’) pitches.” With respect to the “contrastive character and sequential harmony” of the bridge, Young produced “strongly similar renditions of the ‘underlying’ chord progression.” Porter (1985b, 46, 49, 67) adds that Young used “honks” to end eight-bar sections, and tended to distinguish his improvisation over a piece’s bridge by emphasizing high notes and adding special harmonic color to the section’s final seventh chord.

  13. John Lewis adopts the approach of building on the concluding idea of each chorus to establish “a link” with the following chorus. Porter 1988, 27. Jim Hall (Balliett 1977, 223) and Jimmy Knepper (Jeske 1981, 67) describe their use of comparable compositional techniques, introducing a single idea and then developing it motivically “throughout a solo” or creating successive motivic sections over a solo’s course.

  14. A description of Coltrane’s exploitation of range is in Porter 1985a, 620.

  15. Sonny Rollins’s solo on “St. Thomas,” Rollins, rec. 1956b.

  16. Wes Montgomery’s solo on “West Coast Blues,” Montgomery, rec. 1960. For an elaboration of Montgomery’s techniques for organizing solos, see Van Der Bliek 1987.

  17. Gushee 1981, 167. Other schemes mentioned by Gushee involve building each chorus of a two-chorus solo “in very much the same way,” or fashioning solos according to a “single-minded dramatic ‘ride-out’ of mounting intensity, much favored by trumpeters at this time.”

  18. Porter 1985b, 96.

  19. The listener’s familiarity with the specific vocabulary patterns of an artist is germane here. It “allows the listener to follow a solo with great insight into the creative process taking place,” noting the unique ordering and mixture of patterns, as well as their modification “by augmenting or diminishing [them], by displacing [them] metrically, or by adding or subtracting notes.” Owens 1974, 1:17, 35.

  20. Little’s quotations are sampled in ex. 7.2. Dorham’s solo, “I Love You (take 2),” appears on Dorham, rec. 1953.

  21. Dorham’s cadential figure appears in ex. 5.3c1. A transcription of “Giant Steps” appears in Tirro 1977, 381–86. See further discussion of this issue with regard to Coltrane’s various improvisation approaches in Kernfeld 1983 and Porter 1983 and 1985a.

  22. The design of Parker’s phrases is illustrated in ex. 7.14.

  23. A comparably elaborate model also guides multiple solo choruses on Little’s piece “Opening Statement,” found on the same album, Little, rec. 1960.

  24. Two takes of Lee Morgan’s solo on “Moanin’ ” were recorded on 30 October 1958 and appear on the studio recording. Blakey, rec. 1958a. The third recording of Morgan’s solo was made during the group’s live performances in Paris, 17 December. Blakey, rec. 1958b.

  25. Navarro’s catalytic phrase appears in ex. 4.2d; Davis’s, in ex. 7.12; Brown’s motivic figure, in ex. 9.3; a portion of Parker’s recurring “Tiny’s Tempo” phrase, in ex. 6.6b. Transcriptions of complete versions of different takes of the Parker solos on “Red Cross” and “Tiny’s Tempo” are in Owens 1974 (2:173–74, 135–37). See also Parker, rec. 1944. Owens (1:112) describes other Parker performances that were “partly composed and partly improvised,” and observes, in the case of Parker’s interpretation of the chords to “Cherokee,” that “a number of phrases in this solo are literal or varied excerpts” from earlier solos. Another example of a recurring chain of Parker ideas—performed during two takes of “She Rote” —is shown on the top line of ex. 7.6 of this work. See also Parker, rec. 1951. Gushee 1981 provides transcriptions of multiple versions of Lester Young’s solos on “Shoe Shine Boy” and an analysis of their resemblances.

  26. The opening and closing events of Morgan’s solo on “Moanin’ ” are given in exx. 8.6b and 13.17b; Davis’s long blues crip is given in ex. 8.25d, chorus 6. It can also be heard in Davis’s solo on “Trane’s Blues” and the improvised melody to “The Theme (take 1),” Davis, rec. 1956a. Similarly, in his extensive work on Davis, Kerschbaumer (1978, 32) reports that a succession of figures found in Davis’s solo on “Billie’s Bounce” comprises more than half of his improvisation on “Ornithology,” recorded four months later, indicating that Davis had not substantially modified his repertory of figures over that period. Such findings call into question Martin’s assertion (1986, 116) that Davis put “little reliance on previously composed licks.”

  27. Heard on Navarro, rec. 1948, vol. 1.

  28. Analysis that Robert Witmer has kindly shared with me concerning recorded solos on Joe Oliver’s and Louis Armstrong’s “Dippermouth Blues” (also recorded under the names of “Sugarfoot Stomp” and “In De Ruff”) reveals that, to varying degrees, Oliver re-created the same solo in performance three times between 1923 and 1926, as did, subsequently, Rex Stewart, in paying homage to Oliver on three recordings in 1931. Schuller’s (1989, 173–76) transcription and analysis of multiple takes of Louis Armstrong’s solo on “Star Dust” reveal that he had previously worked out their “over-all” design and had plotted the use of “certain identical” phrases. See Schuller’s general discussion of such practices during the swing era (ibid., 162, 307–8).

  29. For a discussion of comparable practices, concerning blues melodies and texts, that involve the improviser’s creation of music from a storehouse of basic construction materials, see Evans 1982, 145, and Titon 178–93, respectively, and regarding music cultures in various parts of the world, see Nettl 1974, 13–15, and Lord 1970, passim.

  30. Tucker 1988, 546. Artists’ inclinations differ with regard to these practices. With a sense of irony, Coleman Hawkins (1955, 18) recalled his intention to try to learn his own solo on “Body and Soul” from the recording because it was requested by audience members, and he knew it would increase his commercial appeal. In the end, his creative instincts prevailed, however; he couldn’t bring himself to do it. “To this day I never play ‘Body and Soul’ the same way twice.”

  31. Similarly, in reference to his experience with the relationship between improvisation and written music, John Lewis reports, “My writing and my playing are connected. I can take ideas I have written or maybe not written down yet—ideas just floating around back there. I can take those ideas or written things and expand on them each time I improvise, so in that way the pieces I write are never finished, never complete. The reverse—taking an idea or a phrase from a solo of mine and letting it inspire a new composition—is trying to happen to me for the first time.” Balliett 1971, 169.

  32. Correspondingly, the products of artists’ im
provisations on the same composition can preserve the “contour and many details” (as on Louis Armstrong’s “two recordings of the same tune ... released as ‘S.O.L. Blues?’, Col. 35661, and ‘Gully Low Blues?’, OK 8474,” recorded 13 and 14 May 1927) or be “startlingly different” (as on Charlie Parker’s “two takes of ‘Embraceable You,’ ” recorded on 28 October 1947, Dial 1024). Kernfeld 1988b, 562. See Armstrong, rec. 1927, and Parker, rec. 1947.

  33. In the most general terms, Gioia (1987, 593–94) distinguishes the improviser’s “blueprint method,” in which details are planned in advance “of the work of art before beginning any part of its execution,” from the “retrospective method,” in which “each new musical phrase can be shaped with relation to what has gone before.” Regarding the mediation between these two approaches, Hargreaves and his associates (1991, 53) have found in their preliminary study that the formulation and flexible application of overall improvisation strategies or plans are fundamental abilities distinguishing expert improvisers from novices.

  10. Getting There

  1. One analyst elaborating upon the qualities of syncopation and forward motion uses such terms as “vital drive” and “rhythmic fluidity.” Hodeir 1961, 207. For a description of the essential “tension generated by a complex relationship between rhythm and meter,” see Keil 1966, 341. Sudnow’s (1978, 24), teacher, Jimmy Rowles, urged him “get the phrasing more syncopated.” Stu Katz describes Young’s growing interest in “how much variety one could get out of few notes. He’d play one note or a three to four note phrase and play with it, vary it rhythmically, as [Sonny] Rollins now does” in Porter 1985b, 103. For further discussion of these attributes, see Byrnside 1975, 230–32.