I really like Keith Jarrett, and this may have to do with my parents' wedding.
They were married outside on a big rock, and despite this, they had organ music for their entrance: a cut from Jarrett's Hymns & Spheres.
The residue from this moment and my experience listening to his playing has made me a fan -- and more than that. I myself improvise now, and I can only aspire to have this beautiful, often genreless, pure, emotional approach to this art.
I have no idea, moment to moment, how to prepare for these things, either. What actually happens is so much in the moment, so much of a nanosecond. And I know a lot of people probably are skeptical about whether they really are always improvised. I myself feel skeptical, even though I know they were.
A fascinating interview with Jarrett on NPR about his newest album: Keith Jarrett: Alone in Rio and Ready to Fail
I've written about Jarrett here before: improvisation - art of and improvisation - Keith Jarrett
Labels: improvisation, Jarrett
I viewed Keith Jarrett: The Art of Improvisation earlier this month, and my editors have been hounding me for the few comments I promised, so here they are:
The Köln Concert was not supposed to be good. Keith Jarrett had not slept for two days, and the piano he wanted was nowhere to be found. The one on which he was to play had an overly-bright sound.
But what happened? Something cool. It was a great concert, albeit maybe a little different than standard Jarrett fare, and went on to be one of the best selling Jazz records ever.
Going from zero to zero. That's how Jarrett defines improvisation. His solo improvisations (different than his standards work with his trio) are not based on pre-existing material.
When performing the Mozart double concerto with Chick Corea in Japan, Jarrett chose to use composed cadenzas rather than create his own. His point being, again, that improvisation should not have a relationship to the printed page. It is separate from it.
The Art of Improvisation is a little bit more of a biopic than I would have preferred, but for someone who has improvised during his whole career, this is probably unavoidable. The film traces Jarrett's frantic, random keyboard gyrations in Stockholm, through his meticulous crafting of The Melody at Night with You from within the grips of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. The film is also a presentation that is in line with Jarrett's philosophy of improvisation.
Jarrett refers to improvisation as an exercise that involves the whole person. He dismisses the idea that "music comes from music." That's like saying that "babies come from babies." It's just not true.
(Comments from the DVD viewing end here.)
Well, babies do come from babies. The babies from which they come, however, are just really old.
In the same sense then music does come from music, just not in the way we might want to think. Certainly music, hearing it, practicing it, performing it, is something that affects the whole person. If this same affected person then improvises, then his or her improvisation is then, in some sense, coming from music (but also literature, theology, culinary experiences, encounters with police, rodents, being stuck in traffic, getting rejection letters, alcohol, rubbing alcohol, model trains, full-size trains, small towns, full-size towns, sea shells, astronomy, etc.)
Improvisational Influence Tangent: Yes, I may have to use this new song as improvisation fodder on Sunday. But wait a minute, isn't Hasselhoff driving KITT on the wrong side?
Labels: improvisation, Jarrett
I haven't been slacking off. My intense research into the world of American improvisation/creativity, which consists mainly of watching movies and reading books, is proceeding as planned.
Shortly, I will be viewing Keith Jarrett: The Art of Improvisation, and I expect to publish a reaction here.
Based on titles of works they have published, both organist Gerre Hancock and pianist Keith Jarrett believe that improvisation is an Art.
Jarrett will be an interesting case study in the world of improvisation. He's clearly a superbly gifted musician, one who is well-known as an improviser. More than that, his innovative solo concerts have been instances at spontaneous creation (improvisation that is not based on pre-existing themes).
Like comedian Jerry Seinfeld in the documentary Comedian, Jarrett recently sought to remodel his improvisations by starting from scratch (these efforts are captured by his most recent release Radiance). This artistic trajectory reveals an artist who is particularly attuned to the distilled, creative essence of his art.
There's a lot of personal interest here. I grew up listening to Jarrett, and I grew up improvising on the piano and the organ. What I'm really interested in getting a hold of is the concept of improvisation in isolation -- improvisation for its own sake.
I don't think organists have much experience with this concept. Most organ methodologies don't hesitate to introduce hymn-based techniques fairly early on. Surely this is practical, but it is putting the cart before the horse.
By teaching organists how to improvise set forms, certain methodologies surely relegate improvisation to the world of "craft." And while this may speak to the reality of what occurs when the organist improvises, I think it is worthwhile to try to access the bigger picture: improvisation as "Art."
By the same token, however, improvisation is most easily accessed through set forms and stipulations: a craft, if you will. And for some inexperienced improvisers, improvising without a predetermined form will lead to musical incontinence.
How much have organists been limited by our received methodologies? How many organists are asked to just improvise, for its own sake, and without the aid of anything pre-composed?
How many organists are comfortable removing the trappings of western music, or inherited default-churchiness to create something really honest, personal, artistic?
By way of example, the fugue was a necessary thing to improvise in Bach's time. One could even argue that the French had their own fugue thing going too. But how many American composers are still writing fugues? I mean, not even Henry Cowell really did (he wrote fuguing tunes, trying to reclaim an earlier American form), and he died forty years ago.
American organists just aren't talking enough about the Art of Improvisation. This is symptomatic of too few American organists improvising, which is in turn symptomatic of their being a lack of an American improvisational "style" or ethos.
And so, my quest for an An Ethos of Improvisation at the Organ in the United States (AEIOU) leads me into Jazz, a realm where improvisation is regularly practiced and discussed, even if not fully understood.
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