Tony Makarome
Sketching of a solo…
I teach a course about the materials of jazz music at the Yong Siew Toh Conservatory of Music (NUS), and each year, my students are surprised to learn that jazz musicians actually think and make conscious choices during their improvisations. Another shocker is that jazz musicians actually need to master their “theory” before they can effectively “play by ear”, bearing in mind mastering your music theory does not mean learning musical nomenclature or someone’s opinion about how music should behave. Rather, in its basic form, knowledge of music theory refers to an understanding of how musical materials relate to one another (acoustically) or how composers and performers of different styles of music create and use their personal musical language.
This is best achieved through active listening to the kinds of music you love and wish to emulate. Over time, you will develop a sort of “intuitive” understanding of how one musical idea relates to another. I placed the word “intuitive” in parenthesis because it relates to a paradoxical idea that (in music) intuition is better than study. Intuition is defined as direct or immediate insight.1 However, I believe that musical intuition needs to be developed through study, that is, listening to and internalizing music.
But what if you do not understand what you are listening to? If it is something you enjoy, you will be able to solve this puzzle yourself, to the extent that repeated listening to the same piece of music will ingrain the chronological unfolding of that music as well as the melodic and structural features. You will then be able to explain it in your own words. To an academic, this may not be sufficient in giving an “intelligent” formulation of the piece in question, but I believe that this personal understanding is vital to the development of musical skills needed for improvisation and memory.
The next step is to learn a common nomenclature so that you may be able to communicate with other musicians. The formal study of music theory actually simplifies the learning, analysis and memorisation of music. If you need more information or want to read other people’s opinions about music, it may be found in articles, books, DVDs, and the internet. (And, no, you will not lose your independent musical identity.) I often tell my students that theory is there to help you when your ears fail. While theory is not there to replace your ears or your heart, it can often help you clarify some “counter-intuitive” musical approaches (e.g. John Coltrane’s three-tonality system). This applies to the practice of jazz improvisation where the freedom to improvise an instrumental (or vocal) solo is contingent upon your understanding of a particular tune’s melodic, harmonic and formal structure. This is the essence of learning and playing “by ear.” (And if you cannot “hear it”, use your knowledge of theory as a crutch through the “iffy” spots.)
What about Wes Montgomery or the Beatles? These people could not even read music! It has been a long time since I thought about the concept of reading music. I began my own pursuit of music after being mystified and intrigued by the “siren” sounds of the Beatles, Charlie Parker, Jaco Pastorius, Jimi Hendrix, Deep Purple etc. As a fervent fan, I “ingested” as much written information as I could handle (perhaps more). I remember reading an interview with Jaco Pastorius where he was asked: (a) if he could read music, and (b) whether he had received any music education. I also remember an interview with Stanley Clarke where the interviewer expressed amazement at the idea that all the music recorded by Chick Corea’s seventies fusion band, Return to Forever, was written out (except for the solos, of course).2
Music notation is just a method to record and communicate musical ideas. I have often wondered if there may be a feeling out there that being able to read music somehow de-values your achievements as a creative musician. In the literary world, I do not believe there is a similar romance attached to an author who cannot read or write. Even if Lennon and McCartney could not read music, they still had their own way of communicating their song structures to their fellow musicians (George and Ringo). One method would be to use the standard pop/rock system of chord symbols employing letters and numbers (e.g. Bbmaj7#11). My point is that musicians figure out ways to keep track of musical ideas (traditional Western music notation happens to be one such method). At the heart of it, all music is an oral (and aural) tradition and the written form of music can be akin to words in a poem or a play (genres which require performers or readers to realize their full potential). Even when music is written down, it is merely a reflection of how it is supposed to sound. This applies to different kinds of music but especially to jazz. If we were to play jazz music EXACTLY as it is written, it would sound pretty mechanical. To be fair, a performer’s interpretation is vital even to classical music. A performer’s freedom in this case lies within the boundaries of “good taste” and tradition. When those boundaries are unclear, the player’s “intuition” takes over.
By the way, Jaco’s answer to the musical education question was, “…I’m formally self-taught.”3
What about the idea that jazz improvisers have total freedom in what they improvise? To a certain extent, this may be true but my problem is with the idea of “total” freedom. In this case, freedom may not be as free as we think. Let me use casual conversation as a metaphor. When we speak with good friends, we are not limited to certain topics and are free to express whatever comes into our minds and to share all kinds of varied thoughts. However (in order to be understood and communicate) we must still restrict ourselves to the “rules” of the language we use (e.g. English) and to relate to the topic of the moment (even if it lasts only a few seconds). In such an environment, we seem to be aware instinctively of the nature and “rules” governing our interactions. In turn, such awareness allows greater scope and freedom in creative “speech making”. For example, we may use commonly understood slang words or make up our own words or even deliberately distort the “proper” usage of English so that we may express our feelings in a unique way. Can everyone relate to such a conversation? It depends on how much understanding the listener has of the language or the slang usage or even the speaker. To the uninitiated, the conversation may sound colourful, coarse, humourous or even unintelligible. Add to this, the possibility of various accents and inflections and you have a metaphorical picture of how jazz might sound to some listeners in the audience. Fortunately, Music speaks to us at a sensory level and we find ourselves entertained even when we do not understand all its structural implications because it just “sounds good.”
Jazz musicians have a benign distrust of formal music education. Perhaps this is because the theoretical materials are often presented as a compendium of rules while “real” composers seem to break these rules regularly. As mentioned above, music should be thought of as an oral tradition. This applies not only to the actual raw musical material but also to the style in which the music is to be performed. In this respect, it is crucial to listen to and study great players from each genre’s history in order to develop a “feel” for that genre’s particular style and sound. This applies both to jazz and classical music. For example, a cellist studying a Bach cello suite would benefit greatly from exposure to recordings by Casals, Rostropovich or YoYo Ma. Gaining the understanding of a musical tradition through oral tradition is one thing, but usage of that information is where the musical practices of a jazz musician and a classical musician diverge. By tradition, a classical musician is “not allowed” to infuse a composition with his own personality if this contradicts the composer’s intentions; meanwhile a jazz musician is expected to add all kinds of personal musical mannerisms. Perhaps here lies the crux of why jazz seems so liberating to the uninitiated.
I often feel that non-jazz musicians (and listeners) have an impression that jazz performers have the freedom to play any musical idea that drifts into their minds at a given moment. But, as you can see, this is not the whole picture. John Litweiler (a director of the Jazz Institute of Chicago) once wrote that “[g]enuine freedom occurs when the artist can communicate most intimately with the materials, the language of his or her medium…” and that “…each innovation in jazz, from the beginnings to the present, appears so that jazz artists can reveal what cannot be revealed in any other way.”4 The medium of jazz does give a performer great freedom but the proper musical choices must be made with discretion by each individual’s musical conscience.
Dr. Tony Makarome
Tony is currently an Assistant Professor at the Yong Siew Toh Conservatory (National University of Singapore). He teaches solfegé, ear-training, music theory and jazz. As a bassist, he has performed with luminaries, including Louis Bellson, The Diamonds, and Tony Bennett. He was the musical director/resident conductor of the NUS Wind Symphony, and assistant conductor of the Columbia Lyric Opera. Local premieres of his compositions include “East Wind” for solo percussion (Esplanade Recital Studio, 2006) and “Name with No Street” for string quartet (Yong Siew Toh Concert Hall, 2007.)
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By Tony Makarome
in Features