Category Archives: Performance

Talk less, play more

Over the last few months, I’ve participated in a number of rehearsals and/or projects that have been stifled because of too much talking. Now, I’m not mentioning discussion of unrelated issues, such as personal conversations, etc. Instead I’m referring to discussion of the music itself.

I can’t even count the number of rehearsals that have included as much time spent discussing the arrangement of a tune (all in “non-classical” genres) as spent actually playing. I admit that some discussion is relevant, but too much talk or over-analysis can both make the performers second-guess themselves and also further cloud the issue (as opposed to provide clarity). As opposed to simply playing together and letting the music guide everyone, the players instead focus too much on technical issues and not on the actual music.

The most rewarding musical situations I’ve been involved with have been with groups that let the music guide the players. Two of my longest and closest musical collaborators, Pat Harris and Nate Powell, are such joys to play with in part because we spend almost no time actually talking about the music. With The French Henchmen, the only discussion we ever had was really about tempo – should we play it up or again as a ballad? Beyond that, we would just play, and if we started to take the piece in a direction that none of us had anticipated, we simply went with it and made the best of it, and 99% of the time were met with success.

Collaborations that involve a little less talking and a lot more listening, feeling, and playing, will find the greatest musical return.

The long view

It’s important to remember that to be “successful” in the arts (as opposed to simply “entertainment”), one integral ingredient is time. Instant gratification in certain small instances is frequent, including good performances, publishing articles, etc. However, building oneself into a noticeable name or brand is something that takes years of persistent hard work.

Often I feel defeated when I think that I’m 26 and still “only where I’m at.” Conversely, though, I remind myself that I’m only 26 and have accomplished a fair amount thus far. I don’t always have to seek gigs out, I’m starting to autonomously teach and build a curriculum in my preferred subject area, and I’ve recently noticed that my website is starting to get some hits. Slowly but surely, the name is creeping out there.

It’s important to take the long view. To be honest, I consider everything to be a small step in the journey towards a greater goal. I’m still not completely sure of what the end goal will be, but I do know that each gig acquired or class taught is another step closer. Not only does it keep me from being complacent, but it also keeps me assured along the way.

Practice does make perfect (or at least close to), yet the same could be said for an equal amount (if not more so!) of patience.

Time

Last week included the final performance of The French Henchmen for a while, as my partner in crime is heading to grad school at Indiana University. It was a successful gig, and we were quite solid. Over the last year, we’ve enjoyed a twice-a-month residency at The Brass Cafe & Saloon, along with various other gigs. Furthermore, though the group is now a duo, The French Henchmen actually started out as a trio with Pat Harris (my musical other) in 2004, and we’ve played together in various groups since 2003. In other words, we’ve done a lot of playing together through the years. And it shows.

There really is no substitute for time. I’ve played in many short-lived groups with regular, involved rehearsal regimens, and the product has usually been pretty good. In fact, Nate and I used to rehearse many hours each week together in various groups. However, the simple fact that we’ve played and performed together for six years does so much for our musical interaction, and no amount of rehearsal with another, younger group could replace that. Over time we have developed a particular repertoire, sound, and niche that sets The French Henchmen apart. Along with that, the countless hours we’ve played together have allowed us to musically communicate in a way that makes words unnecessary, and we’re consistently able to take familiar tunes to new places and surprise even ourselves.

Part of me is being nostalgic, as I’ll miss performing as The French Henchmen on a regular basis (though future gigs are definitely in the works). And I’m obviously partial to the group, as I’m 50% of the ensemble. But stepping back from those two points, the fact remains that a big reason (arguably the biggest) for the group’s success is time. Rehearsing is good, as are gigs. However, allowing time and patience for a group to cultivate a sound and persona are irreplaceable, and something for which there is no shortcut.

Rhythm Section

I sat in with Ann Arbor’s First Flight the other night, and received a very nice compliment afterwards. Someone commented that it was nice to have a horn player that rhythmically interacted with the rhythm section. Now, I’m not saying I have it all figured out, but it was nice to be noticed for something I have worked to develop.

Relating to that point, in jazz-related styles, I often consider the “rhythm section” to really include the entire ensemble. Among many of my musical peers (not “pros,” but working musicians getting on their feet), this seems to be a point that is lost on them. Too often are horn players ready to simply stand up and move their fingers, with an emphasis on melodic flare as opposed to musical interaction.

For those who don’t agree, consider this: if you’re not playing with your fellow musicians, then why are you standing on stage with them in the first place?

Un-monetization

On a recent Adam Carolla Podcast, the Aceman rightly emphasized the need for one to do a lot of work for free in order to be successful. This is something I’ve touched on in this blog a time or two, and a fact that I embrace rather than fight. In this particular episode, Adam and comedian Jeff Garlin (a personal favorite) estimated that about 90% of their time spent working is unpaid, but that it creates the room for the 10% that does pay. (Conversely, the paid 10% allows them to do the unpaid 90%.)

Very true.

Between all of my gigging, practicing, teaching, driving (!), and administrative/business-related music work (including this blog and my website), I’d say that 10% is a liberal estimate. It’s probably closer to 5%. Given where I’m at in my career, though, that’s not bad. That 5% does me well, but it’s not like any other “job.” It doesn’t simply end when the horn goes back on the stand. It’s a constant process of bettering my craft, promoting my name, and establishing/maintaining a positive reputation. Even when I’m not “at work,” I’m still working.

It may seem daunting if you’ve not experienced it, but I assume that to be truly successful in any field the same rule applies across the board. It thousands of hours (i.e., years) to lay the groundwork and develop your own recognizable niche. However, in the end, someone will eventually (hopefully!) desire or require something from the niche you’ve cultivated, and when that time comes you’ll be thankful for all those free hours.