MTH-V: ‘Einstein’ Unplugged

Okay, okay. This will be my last Einstein on the Beach-centric post for a while. Promise. (At least I’ll try…) But I must share this.

While assembling links, etc., for the last MTH-V post on Einstein, I came across the below series of videos and giddily watched them all. Along with the 2012 Brooklyn run of EOTB last fall, part of the company (chorus, lead actors, violinist/Einstein Jennifer Koh, and keyboardist/director Michael Riesman) gave an “unplugged” performance of much of the opera: the five Knee Plays and the second “Trial” scene. The pieces are abbreviated, the instrumentation is much lighter (for most of them), and it lacks the staging and bizarre atmospherics of the full production. However I find these performance intriguing nonetheless. Granted, the audience members all likely knew what they were in for, but it’s nonetheless an interesting way to introduce the material to newcomers. Also, it begs the question that for an opera without a plot, how much difference does it make to hear certain selections out of context?

I’m glad there’s quality video footage of Kate Moran’s nuanced rendition of “Trial/Prison.” This was something that really stood out when I saw it last year. Ditto for Charles Williams‘s closing monologue in Knee Play 5. (I was completely out of my body at this point when I saw it in person.)

(Other EOTB posts here, herehere, and here..)

And now for the oratorio-like rendition (posted in order in full)…

Knee Play 1

Knee Play 2

Knee Play 3

Act III, Scene 1: Trial/Prison

Knee Play 4

Knee Play 5

Earnestness or Excuses? II

I’d like to continue exploring the topic of intention and reception. I ended my previous post on this topic referencing technical ability and execution. This was on my mind quite a bit a few weeks ago as I listened to Pat Metheny and Ornette Coleman‘s Song X: Twentieth Anniversary. I really enjoy that album, as I enjoy both Pat and Ornette separately, but I found myself still tuning out through Ornette Coleman’s violin solo in “Mob Job.” For the uninitiated, Coleman famously – infamously? – extended his free jazz (or harmolodic) approach beyond the saxophone, his instrument, and started incorporating trumpet and violin – instruments he couldn’t play. After years of this, he’s now labeled as a saxophonist, trumpeter, and violinist in many articles.

I could listen to Ornette’s sax playing all day long and really dig it, but there’s a part of me that can’t get past his taking up instruments and just making noise without any ability. While most lay listeners would probably just think it all sounds the same, I can’t get past it as a musician. (And no, it certainly does not sound the same.) For reference, here’s some footage of Coleman on violin, later switching to trumpet (it’s entertaining to see him adjust the violin’s fine tuning peg):

Now contrast that with his saxophone playing from the same concert (the first half of this video). I get behind this. It’s not just a sonic wash of ascending and descending passages:

Before going further, I should say that I don’t mean for this article to be an “attack” on Coleman. Far from it. (And what would he care, he’s accomplished far more in his career than I could hope to.) I do genuinely enjoy his music and greatly appreciate what he did for art. But this one aspect sticks in my craw and, more importantly, relates to the larger topic I started exploring here a few weeks back. In fact, many more offensive examples that I’ve seen in person come to mind, but Coleman’s perhaps the most well-known example I can think of for use here. I find myself really agreeing with Miles Davis on this point (from his autobiography):

For him – a sax player – to pick up a trumpet and violin like that and just think he can play them with no kind of training is disrespectful toward all those people who play them well. And then to sit up and pontificate about them when he doesn’t know what he’s talking about is not cool, man. But you know, music’s all just sounds anyway.[1. Miles Davis with Quincy Troupe, Miles: The Autobiography, (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1989), p. 250.]

I sympathize with both Miles’s disagreement but also his acknowledging the place of sound. If someone just wants a wash of ascending and descending lines, then who cares if they play the instrument well or not? I easily concede that point, as I get it from an artistic/theoretical perspective. What if a musicians just wants a bunch of squeaks and squawks on the saxophone? One could argue that it may be best for a non-saxophonist to produce such sounds. In fact, we can see this here in a live video of none other than Marilyn Manson in 2005:

Before too many of you raise your eyebrows and say that Mary (as I’ve called him since middle school) is just being obnoxious while Ornette is creating art, briefly consider a few things:
1. Yes, the saxophone was used to create noise. That was the intent.
2. This occurs at the end of the title song of 2003’s The Golden Age of Grotesque. That whole album (and tour and surrounding ethos) was not just about “the grotesque,” which is vague, but rather it drew heavily from German Kabarett, censorship (particularly the Degenerate Art exhibitions under the Third Reich), and minstrelsy. He then connected those themes with post-Columbine and post-9/11 American culture. (Manson’s no intellectual slouch…)[2. If you want to go deeper down this rabbit hole, I suggest this article that I recently came across when assembling some links for this post. Good stuff.]
3. Strictly focusing on saxophone, kudos to him for using a period-appropriate model. Sigurd Rascher would’ve been proud. 🙂
4. Outside of including “saxophone” under his name in the album’s liner notes, Mary isn’t referred to as a “saxophonist” in his articles or titles. He understands the context.
5. FYI: I didn’t go searching for an outrageous example saxophone squawks to be incendiary. The last time I saw Marilyn Manson in concert was on this tour in 2003, and I occasionally go back to that memory when thinking of this particular instrumental conundrum.

Context matters, of course. Because at the end of the day they’re two men making noise on instruments they can’t play.

Now of course there can be an intersection between the above two poles in which someone “makes noise” on his/her primary instrument that seems indiscernible from a novice. Some of Evan Parker‘s music comes to mind. In the below video, if you were to just watch the images without sound, one would think he’s just letting his fingers run wild. However, when you actually listen to his sounds, you hear incredible control of both tonguing, range, and contour. He manages polyphony all by himself. (I can be partial, though, because I’m a Parker fan.):

Also, Parker’s no one-trick pony. His playing on Boustrophedon and Composition/Improvisation No. 1, 2, & 3 is different, for example. As is his playing in the second video of this MTH-V post.

Whew. Well, that’s enough to chew on for now. I’ll definitely be returning to this topic. And, as I said in my last post in this series, these are real rough drafts. I’m just trying to collect my thoughts on this topic.

 

MTH-V: Philip Glass Ensemble’s ‘EOTB’ (1982)

Regular readers know of my fondness for Einstein on the Beach. (And if you’re curious, go herehere, and here.) I won’t sit and gush about my seeing it live last year. But it’s still with me. Constantly. I’ve been on the road a lot this last week for gigs and EOTB has regularly kept me company in the car. There are a number of videos I’d like to include, but I’ll instead be breaking this up into separate posts.

This week’s videos are clips of a 1982 concert performance by the Philip Glass Ensemble of “Train” and “Spaceship.” They’re the first and last scenes, respectively, of the work (save for the knee plays). There are interesting interview segments with Philip Glass at the end of each clip.

Of course, keep in mind that these are abbreviated versions. 🙂 The staging is fascinating for both sections, but it’s interesting to see this in concert performance. Excuse the fuzzy video quality; this is from a VHS transfer.

“Train”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dl0BSh7RXPc

“Spaceship”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F0SgFg7OstI

MTH-V: Herbie’s “Actual Proof”

The weekly video series/curation is back again after a lengthy hiatus. And back with a bang.

This is the first time I’ve explicitly featured Herbie Hancock in this series, though he’s come up on occasion (you can see him with Michael Brecker here). Below is one of my favorite songs of his, “Actual Proof,” which was originally released on 1974’s Thrust. (It’s my favorite of the Headhunters albums.) Herbie has long been one of my all-time favorite musicians. Even though he’ll be 73 next month, he remains one of the most forward-thinking figures in music of any genre, and he’s always progressing and experimenting. Attempting a brief career overview here is silly, but suffice it to say he’s just about done it all. From his groundbreaking early work with Miles (both acoustic and electric), to his various funk explorations, to crossover success with “Rockit” and later a Grammy for Album of the Year for a wonderfully original Joni Mitchell tribute, to his exploring the ends of both jazz and pop music, he’s a force to be reckoned with. (And to top it off, he seems to be a sweetheart by all accounts.) I have about twenty of his solo albums – which barely scratches the surface! – as well as just about everything he did with Miles. It’s such an eclectic collection, as just about everything he does is great. I’ve seen him in concert four times (five if you count an interview in which he played a couple tunes), and he blew me away each time in a different capacity. (One performance included a 55-minute “Dauphin Dance” that was from another planet…)

The band in the below video is a slightly amended version of his Headhunter’s ’05 band that was assembled for his featured set at Bonnaroo 2005. (I attended Bonnaroo ’05, and the Headhunters set remains one of the best shows I’ve ever seen of any style.) This particular lineup played later that year, with this performance taking place in Tokyo. The personnel features many powerhouses – most of which are well-known bandleaders in their own right:

Herbie Hancock – piano
Terri Lyne Carrington – drums
Roy Hargrove – trumpet
Munyungo Jackson – percussion
Lionel Loueke – guitar
Marcus Miller – bass
Wah Wah Watson – guitar

(Simply trade John Mayer for Watson and add Kenny Garrett and you have the lineup I saw at Bonnaroo…)

This is a great rendition of Herbie classic. Hancock, Hargrove, and Loueke all get some solo space, and the unparalleled rhythm section of Carrington/Miller/Jackson/Watson holds the groove down while weaving in and out of various feels. Just ignore Hargrove’s early entrance on the head. 🙂

Earnestness or Excuses?

Lately I’ve been thinking quite a bit about artistic intention and reception. It’s been difficult to get all of my duck-like ideas in a row, and I’ll in no way fully address the issue with one post, but it’s worth planting the seed.

I’ve quietly been focused on this the last couple months, but it really came to the fore when Matt Borghi and I touched on it in conversation during one of our recent lunches (where we wax philosophically about music, comedy, politics, the internet, our neighborhoods, and all things in between). Improvisation is perhaps the cornerstone of our musical relationship, and on this particular day we got to talking about improvisation itself. He mentioned an interesting dialogue he’d recently had with another musician, and – I’m paraphrasing so I could be a little off – that, generally, music that is largely improvised suggests at least a small degree of laziness on the part of the performer(s). In some cases this is true. However, to use that as an overall guiding principle shocked me. Especially since it came from another musician in a somewhat related realm.

As one example, my ambient-based work with Matt, we improvise not out of lack of forethought but because we’re feeding off of one another in the moment. What we each bring to the table continually changes. Yes, we have “rehearsed” many times, but we’re not rehearsing content. Instead we’re rehearsing our engaging one another musically. We’re continually learning and refining how we listen and respond to one another. Conversely, while there’s much room for improvising in our Teag & PK catalogue, we rehearse and adhere to our musical forms and roadmaps, as those songs are based on set content.

[Shameless plug: please check out Convocation if you haven’t yet. We’re quite proud of it. 🙂 ]

In both aforementioned settings – ambient and folkish – the performer’s respect for the content (and how that content is created) is a key factor. Another important element is a respect for the craft of being able to make the music. This could the technical facility/mastery of an instrument and/or the craft of songwriting or improvising. So not only am I concerned with the style of music I’m performing, but how well I may execute it on a given instrument. How can I properly express myself through an instrument I can’t play? Furthermore, how can I express myself on an instrument I can play but through a style I cannot?

Much more to come on this as I start to flesh out some related thoughts…