Do we as saxophonists have a John Coltrane complex? It would be understandable if we did. After all, he did develop jazz improvisation and the technical possibilities of the saxophone to such a high level, that it persuaded most of us to blindly accept his contributions as the standard by which everything should be measured without question. Sort of like following a religious leader.
Many of us, when we try to "improve" on Coltrane’s music and numerous contributions--some how thinking that we can "take it further" than where he did--often fall short in one of two ways, if not both. First, we don't give listeners a sense of who we are, consequently, selling the listener short, as well as ourselves. And second, we produce a something that's inferior to the original, since we are essentially taking something already perfect and tampering with it until it becomes much less perfect. These things usually result due to the fact is that we’re not playing by our own rules, we’re playing by those of John Coltrane; we’re chasing the Trane.
I once read in a book of inspirational aphorisms that “a genius works, as a child plays.” What does this mean? Does it mean to work recklessly, without discipline? Or does it mean to come to work with the openness and willingness to venture in to the unknown, as a child often does?
When I first read the quote I was reminded of the story of the child who opened his new toy at Christmas time, and after a few minutes became bored with the toy and began playing with the box. This is the kind of openness by which I feel a genius works--being open to all possibilities, being willing to stray from your original preconception of what something should be and learning to go with the flow with what’s inspiring you at that moment. What if you used John Coltrane’s contributions as a source of inspiration and not just a source? What if you used Coltrane’s flawless technique as a source inspiration to find your own approach to the instrument where you develop your own technique that’s as natural you as eating or drinking? - Something that you can do better than anybody else in the world. What if you used Coltrane’s harmonic innovations as a source of inspiration to find you own harmonic language? If you break down harmony to its most rudimentary terms, it’s when music is organized vertically and pitches are heard simultaneously. These pitches are derived from scales, which are just systems of organizing pitches. Why use Coltrane’s scales? Why not come up with your own system of organizing pitches? Why not come up with own pitches?
It would be irresponsible of me to suggest that anyone who’s serious about becoming a great jazz musician not study the masters or even “cop” their ideas. The great Clark Terry even said, “First there’s imitation, and then there’s innovation.” But during the “imitation” stage of development, I feel it’s very important that we don’t lose sight of who we are, and what our personal contributions to the language are or possibly could be. In some ways I feel its very selfish just take from the community of jazz and not give anything back.
Finding ones own voice is a life long journey that should not be taking lightly. It not only requires instrumental mastery, but mental mastery and spiritual enlightenment--with and without the instrument. Of course, life would be a lot easier not having to worry about all of these esoteric things. But I feel to truly pay respect to those we revere, at some point we're going to have to step out of our comfort zone and take those difficult steps towards artistic freedom and enlightenment, just as they did. Trumpeter Donald Byrd once told me, after hearing me play some generic sounding Coltrane licks, “ Don’t do what we did, do as we did.”
The New York Jazz Workshop
Friday, July 11, 2008
To Play, Or Not To Play The Soprano
Playing the soprano saxophone for me has been a life-changing journey that has restored my curiosity and excitement about playing music at a time when it was hard to imagine myself continuing down--what I considered at the time to be--this congested musical highway, on which I was driving blindly without a clear artistic illusion in sight.
I have often equated the process of switching from the tenor sax to being like “jumping off of a cliff and having to grow wings on the way down.” As I have grown and developed as a soprano saxophonist over the years, it has become increasingly frustrating to see how lightly the instrument is taking by critics and musicians. If you look at the Downbeat Critics Poll, the soprano saxophone category is treated as if though it’s not worthy of the serious thought that goes into choosing players who are deserving of recognition on the instrument. Many of the players who appear in the “Rising Star” section hardly play the instrument--except for those occasional ballads in ¾ time or those “Afro-Blue” sounding tunes that saxophonists occasionally record on soprano.
Of course, no set of guidelines should be put into place to determine who should or should not be allowed to play the instrument. As a matter of fact, I strongly encourage saxophonists to do so whenever possible--studying the soprano teaches one valuable lessons about intonation and breathing that can be applied to all of the saxophones.
But the problem that I see, lies not in the fact that inexperienced saxophonists record and perform on the instrument, but in the fact that when others emulate this undeveloped sound, it then becomes the sonic status quo, so to speak, consequently, setting, in my opinion, a lower standard for sound production than what you have for the other members of the saxophone family. I say this because, the first time that I put on a Steve Lacy record, I thought to myself, “This guy’s sound is peculiar.” As a matter of fact, what sounded weird was the fact that it was full-bodied and focused—all of the things we demand from other horns without question. But for some reason, when it comes to the soprano saxophone, players have psyched themselves into thinking that the instrument is so difficult to play, that having any goal other than playing it in tune seems a bit far fetched. It’s hard to imagine a saxophonist being happy with their sound on the tenor or alto saxophones just because they’re in tune.
Which actually reminds me of a conversation that I had when Gerry Teekens, the producer and founder of Criss Cross Records, the label with whom I recorded my first CD Sam I AM. One day, while hanging out at one of his numerous recordings that he was producing that week, I told him that I had decided, for artistic reasons, to stop playing the tenor saxophone and make the soprano my main instrument. His subsequent response was classic. “Why would you want to do that? --You sound just like Hank Mobley and Sonny Rollins.” I then explained that that was exactly the reason why. I was finding it increasingly difficult to find a sound on the tenor that I felt I could call my own. Which for me was the most important thing. The current set of beliefs in jazz education teaches students to value “licks and phrases” over the actual sound that they use to play them. And it’s certainly understandable why this Jamey Abersold-approach is the preferred method.
One reason for this being that licks and phrases are more easily explained theoretically, consequently, they become easier to present in a codified way. And the second reason being that sound is a very personal process, and usually instrument-specific. Therefore, it is better taught in the context of a private lesson than in a classroom. But I feel that to have your own voice, it must first start with the sound that you produce and that the ideas should all originate from there. And I felt the soprano afforded me that very opportunity.
Later in my conversation with Gerry Teekens, he then told me that making that kind of decision was risky because the soprano as an instrument is very limiting. And even though I did understand why he felt that way, I went on to explain that the only reason that he, and many others felt that way, is because people haven’t had the chance to hear the result of someone having spent three to four hours a day, over the course of several decades, devoted solely to developing his or her sound and approach on that instrument. And even though there are a handful of saxophonists who have been able to successfully carve out a niche for them on the instrument, it is still a relatively small number to the innovations that have been documented on other instruments. Try to imagine what our perception of the tenor saxophone would be like without the diversity of approaches to compare and contrast from Lester Young to Coleman Hawkins, Sonny Rollins to John Coltrane, Stan Getz to Albert Ayler, and so on.
Will the soprano ever be viewed with same reverence as other instruments? I guess only time will tell. Steve Lacy said that he remembers a time when the only two modern jazz soprano saxophonists were he and John Coltrane. Today, that is no longer the case.
Personally, I feel very optimistic about the future. I do foresee a day when junior high band students will have the option to play the soprano, rather than just being limited to the usual alto, tenor, and baritone saxophones. And as instrument makers continue to improve the instrument, along musicians continuing to write and perform music written for the instrument. I see a new day, when the soprano will be on top, not just in register, but in reverence.
I have often equated the process of switching from the tenor sax to being like “jumping off of a cliff and having to grow wings on the way down.” As I have grown and developed as a soprano saxophonist over the years, it has become increasingly frustrating to see how lightly the instrument is taking by critics and musicians. If you look at the Downbeat Critics Poll, the soprano saxophone category is treated as if though it’s not worthy of the serious thought that goes into choosing players who are deserving of recognition on the instrument. Many of the players who appear in the “Rising Star” section hardly play the instrument--except for those occasional ballads in ¾ time or those “Afro-Blue” sounding tunes that saxophonists occasionally record on soprano.
Of course, no set of guidelines should be put into place to determine who should or should not be allowed to play the instrument. As a matter of fact, I strongly encourage saxophonists to do so whenever possible--studying the soprano teaches one valuable lessons about intonation and breathing that can be applied to all of the saxophones.
But the problem that I see, lies not in the fact that inexperienced saxophonists record and perform on the instrument, but in the fact that when others emulate this undeveloped sound, it then becomes the sonic status quo, so to speak, consequently, setting, in my opinion, a lower standard for sound production than what you have for the other members of the saxophone family. I say this because, the first time that I put on a Steve Lacy record, I thought to myself, “This guy’s sound is peculiar.” As a matter of fact, what sounded weird was the fact that it was full-bodied and focused—all of the things we demand from other horns without question. But for some reason, when it comes to the soprano saxophone, players have psyched themselves into thinking that the instrument is so difficult to play, that having any goal other than playing it in tune seems a bit far fetched. It’s hard to imagine a saxophonist being happy with their sound on the tenor or alto saxophones just because they’re in tune.
Which actually reminds me of a conversation that I had when Gerry Teekens, the producer and founder of Criss Cross Records, the label with whom I recorded my first CD Sam I AM. One day, while hanging out at one of his numerous recordings that he was producing that week, I told him that I had decided, for artistic reasons, to stop playing the tenor saxophone and make the soprano my main instrument. His subsequent response was classic. “Why would you want to do that? --You sound just like Hank Mobley and Sonny Rollins.” I then explained that that was exactly the reason why. I was finding it increasingly difficult to find a sound on the tenor that I felt I could call my own. Which for me was the most important thing. The current set of beliefs in jazz education teaches students to value “licks and phrases” over the actual sound that they use to play them. And it’s certainly understandable why this Jamey Abersold-approach is the preferred method.
One reason for this being that licks and phrases are more easily explained theoretically, consequently, they become easier to present in a codified way. And the second reason being that sound is a very personal process, and usually instrument-specific. Therefore, it is better taught in the context of a private lesson than in a classroom. But I feel that to have your own voice, it must first start with the sound that you produce and that the ideas should all originate from there. And I felt the soprano afforded me that very opportunity.
Later in my conversation with Gerry Teekens, he then told me that making that kind of decision was risky because the soprano as an instrument is very limiting. And even though I did understand why he felt that way, I went on to explain that the only reason that he, and many others felt that way, is because people haven’t had the chance to hear the result of someone having spent three to four hours a day, over the course of several decades, devoted solely to developing his or her sound and approach on that instrument. And even though there are a handful of saxophonists who have been able to successfully carve out a niche for them on the instrument, it is still a relatively small number to the innovations that have been documented on other instruments. Try to imagine what our perception of the tenor saxophone would be like without the diversity of approaches to compare and contrast from Lester Young to Coleman Hawkins, Sonny Rollins to John Coltrane, Stan Getz to Albert Ayler, and so on.
Will the soprano ever be viewed with same reverence as other instruments? I guess only time will tell. Steve Lacy said that he remembers a time when the only two modern jazz soprano saxophonists were he and John Coltrane. Today, that is no longer the case.
Personally, I feel very optimistic about the future. I do foresee a day when junior high band students will have the option to play the soprano, rather than just being limited to the usual alto, tenor, and baritone saxophones. And as instrument makers continue to improve the instrument, along musicians continuing to write and perform music written for the instrument. I see a new day, when the soprano will be on top, not just in register, but in reverence.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
