Tonight is a whirlwind. Gotta go!!
Here we go, Day 26: https://ia700708.us.archive.org/17/items/Improv9911/9_9_118_28Pm.mp3
Here we go, Day 26: https://ia700708.us.archive.org/17/items/Improv9911/9_9_118_28Pm.mp3
Passacaglia.
One of my favorite pieces is the Ravel Piano Trio. It is utterly exquisite. I once had a brief discussion about it with a former boss, who was also a pianist. I said something about loving the Passacaglia (the third movement) the most, and he was surprised. He said that everyone he talked to liked that movement the least. That stunned me.
I have loved nearly every passacaglia I have ever heard. Maybe even all of them. I'm not sure what it is about them.... Give me Britten's Peter Grimes. Give me "Dido's Lament" from Purcell's Dido and Aenaes (another all time favorite). Give them all to me. They're wonderful.
So today, without really expecting to improvise a passacaglia,
here we go, Day 25: https://ia600702.us.archive.org/14/items/Improv9811/9_8_114_44Pm.mp3
I have loved nearly every passacaglia I have ever heard. Maybe even all of them. I'm not sure what it is about them.... Give me Britten's Peter Grimes. Give me "Dido's Lament" from Purcell's Dido and Aenaes (another all time favorite). Give them all to me. They're wonderful.
So today, without really expecting to improvise a passacaglia,
here we go, Day 25: https://ia600702.us.archive.org/14/items/Improv9811/9_8_114_44Pm.mp3
Existence.
Weird. I was looking at those pictures from my last post, and thought to myself, "I was not alive when those were taken. My family knows and experienced what life was like, and each other, before I was even born. There was a time when I did not exist. And now, here I am."
Is that not weird to anyone else?
??
I mean, not about me, but about you.
Today, you get to hear NY sound. I never take too many pains to get a clear recording. It would be utterly impossible with the equipment that I have (an iPhone). Usually it isn't so very noticeable. But tonight for some reason, maybe because of the nature of the improv, you can really hear all the NYC sounds. I live close to Amsterdam, a pretty busy thoroughfare. You'll hear the rain (man, has it been rainy), the traffic, the wind, people talking on the street (a woman exclaiming, "WHAT?"), my bobbly ceiling fan, and my little kitty cat, Scarlet. She has an ear-piercing meow. And she goes through phases where she meows incessantly for long periods of time. For no reason. That is what NYC sounds like from my apartment.
Here we go, Day 24: https://ia700703.us.archive.org/28/items/Improv9711/9_7_119_56Pm.mp3
Is that not weird to anyone else?
??
I mean, not about me, but about you.
Today, you get to hear NY sound. I never take too many pains to get a clear recording. It would be utterly impossible with the equipment that I have (an iPhone). Usually it isn't so very noticeable. But tonight for some reason, maybe because of the nature of the improv, you can really hear all the NYC sounds. I live close to Amsterdam, a pretty busy thoroughfare. You'll hear the rain (man, has it been rainy), the traffic, the wind, people talking on the street (a woman exclaiming, "WHAT?"), my bobbly ceiling fan, and my little kitty cat, Scarlet. She has an ear-piercing meow. And she goes through phases where she meows incessantly for long periods of time. For no reason. That is what NYC sounds like from my apartment.
Here we go, Day 24: https://ia700703.us.archive.org/28/items/Improv9711/9_7_119_56Pm.mp3
Giacinto Scelsi
A few months back, I rediscovered a composer that I had once heard and loved on an all contemporary music concert. It was Giacinto Scelsi. (1905-1988)
Don't worry if you haven't heard of him. When I mentioned him to many of my musician friends, they had no idea who he was. But you may have heard some of his music if you saw Shutter Island. It was on there with a bunch of other modern greats, including a few of my other favorites, Gyorgy Ligeti and John Cage.
The music puts me into a different world. Meditative, transformative, transcendent. He is best known for writing music based around only one pitch, altered in all manners through microtonal oscillations, harmonic allusions, and changes in timbre and dynamics, as paradigmatically exemplified in his revolutionary Quattro Pezzi su una nota sola ["Four Pieces on a single note"] (1959). (I stole that last sentence verbatim from wikipedia. I didn't use quotation marks. I feel like a criminal.)
During his "second period," Scelsi had begun composing through sheer improvisation, which was recorded and then transcribed. Scelsi came to conceive of artistic creation as a means of communicating a higher, transcendent reality to the listener. From this point of view, the artist is considered a mere intermediary. It is for this reason that Scelsi never allowed his image to be shown in connection with his music; he preferred instead to identify himself by a line under a circle, a symbol of Eastern provenance. (How about that. I stole almost all of that, too!)
Have you ever felt saved by a piece of art? Because I have... it was Scelsi's Krishna from Four Illustrations for piano solo. And it's not that I think of Scelsi as god-like, or anything like that. Just sometimes nothing makes sense, and then you trip on a piece of art, and suddenly everything makes sense again. And I don't know why it makes sense... I can't verbalize, or even wrap my brain around what makes sense... it just feels like it makes sense. This is the power of art, folks.
So after I rediscovered Scelsi, I ordered some parts right away. And tonight, I did a little sight-reading of Krishna. And immediately plunged into this very Scelsi inspired improv.
Here we go, Day 23: https://ia600703.us.archive.org/32/items/Improv9611/9_6_118_17Pm.mp3
And my dad JUST sent these pictures to me with a slew of old photographs from the 70's when my mom and dad were visiting Thailand. I wish they would come out a little bigger on the blog. Oh well.
Don't worry if you haven't heard of him. When I mentioned him to many of my musician friends, they had no idea who he was. But you may have heard some of his music if you saw Shutter Island. It was on there with a bunch of other modern greats, including a few of my other favorites, Gyorgy Ligeti and John Cage.
The music puts me into a different world. Meditative, transformative, transcendent. He is best known for writing music based around only one pitch, altered in all manners through microtonal oscillations, harmonic allusions, and changes in timbre and dynamics, as paradigmatically exemplified in his revolutionary Quattro Pezzi su una nota sola ["Four Pieces on a single note"] (1959). (I stole that last sentence verbatim from wikipedia. I didn't use quotation marks. I feel like a criminal.)
During his "second period," Scelsi had begun composing through sheer improvisation, which was recorded and then transcribed. Scelsi came to conceive of artistic creation as a means of communicating a higher, transcendent reality to the listener. From this point of view, the artist is considered a mere intermediary. It is for this reason that Scelsi never allowed his image to be shown in connection with his music; he preferred instead to identify himself by a line under a circle, a symbol of Eastern provenance. (How about that. I stole almost all of that, too!)
Have you ever felt saved by a piece of art? Because I have... it was Scelsi's Krishna from Four Illustrations for piano solo. And it's not that I think of Scelsi as god-like, or anything like that. Just sometimes nothing makes sense, and then you trip on a piece of art, and suddenly everything makes sense again. And I don't know why it makes sense... I can't verbalize, or even wrap my brain around what makes sense... it just feels like it makes sense. This is the power of art, folks.
So after I rediscovered Scelsi, I ordered some parts right away. And tonight, I did a little sight-reading of Krishna. And immediately plunged into this very Scelsi inspired improv.
Here we go, Day 23: https://ia600703.us.archive.org/32/items/Improv9611/9_6_118_17Pm.mp3
And my dad JUST sent these pictures to me with a slew of old photographs from the 70's when my mom and dad were visiting Thailand. I wish they would come out a little bigger on the blog. Oh well.
My brother, Aaron.
Hanging out the laundry.
Aaron making sure that kitty is still alive.
My sister, Joy, harassing kitty.
It's hard for me to tell who these people are, but I'm sure I'm related to them... and it's a cool picture.
Again, not sure who these girls are, but they are in my great aunt, Patra's, fabric store.
This is either my grandmother, or my great aunt holding Joy. Mom, can you clarify?
I think this is my grandfather. It's hard for me to tell, because I've only met him once, and he was much older when I met him than in this picture. But it looks like him!
green.
Several weeks ago, I was up in Vermont teaching at a music workshop that my friend, Akiko, and I launched last summer. In the last week or so before Lyra began (that's the name of the workshop), we took on a new student who happened to have autism. His verbal communication skills were not very strong, but it was obvious that music is the way that this young man is able to communicate best with the rest of the world.
One of Jacob's traits is synesthesia. I didn't know what this was before I spoke with Jacob's mom about it, but it is a pretty fascinating phenomenon, shared by some of the major classical composers (Messaien, Scriabin, et al). Basically, whenever Jacob hears a pitch, he also sees a color. So when I played a G on the piano and asked what color it was, he said green, in a very matter of fact way. The guy could not be fooled. Every tone registered the same specific color each time he heard them, and was consistently so. I thought the color might change if I played a G with a different dynamic, but nope. When I asked Jacob what color that was with a very soft G, he looked at me like, "Uh, c'mon lady. I just told you, it's green." Interestingly enough, a soft G is dark green, and a loud G is a bright green.
Anyway, I decided that today I would play something very green. It sounds a little more purple to me, but that's okay... I'm not gifted with synesthesia.
Here we go, Day 22: https://ia600705.us.archive.org/2/items/Improv9511/9_5_116_41Pm.mp3
Here's a photo of Jacob working with Jesse (my inspiration for the improv project) at Lyra. Cool pic, no?
One of Jacob's traits is synesthesia. I didn't know what this was before I spoke with Jacob's mom about it, but it is a pretty fascinating phenomenon, shared by some of the major classical composers (Messaien, Scriabin, et al). Basically, whenever Jacob hears a pitch, he also sees a color. So when I played a G on the piano and asked what color it was, he said green, in a very matter of fact way. The guy could not be fooled. Every tone registered the same specific color each time he heard them, and was consistently so. I thought the color might change if I played a G with a different dynamic, but nope. When I asked Jacob what color that was with a very soft G, he looked at me like, "Uh, c'mon lady. I just told you, it's green." Interestingly enough, a soft G is dark green, and a loud G is a bright green.
Anyway, I decided that today I would play something very green. It sounds a little more purple to me, but that's okay... I'm not gifted with synesthesia.
Here we go, Day 22: https://ia600705.us.archive.org/2/items/Improv9511/9_5_116_41Pm.mp3
Here's a photo of Jacob working with Jesse (my inspiration for the improv project) at Lyra. Cool pic, no?
Water buckets have so many uses.
Gonna make this quick tonight.
Enjoying the last bits of summer.
Here we go, Day 21: https://ia801005.us.archive.org/31/items/Improv9411/9_4_114_18Pm.mp3
And a picture for you.
Enjoying the last bits of summer.
Here we go, Day 21: https://ia801005.us.archive.org/31/items/Improv9411/9_4_114_18Pm.mp3
And a picture for you.
Through the page.
I realized today as I played a bit of Chopin that even after such a short time of improvising, my classical playing has been changing.
I'm not the best of multi-taskers... in fact, I'm pretty bad at it. It translates into my music. Something I've always struggled with has been to hear consecutive lines polyphonically over a long period of time while I play. Of course, I've gotten better at it over the years through a lot of musical training, but still, not my strong suit. So as I've been improvising, I've been trying now and then to play multiple lines in canon, usually failing. I don't think I posted any of those. ;) But it's given me a real appreciation for the layering of lines when I am able to play them, and thus when I play through classical stuff, my ears grab that stuff a lot more easily.
I'm also breathing differently. A handful of years ago, when I started getting into flamenco, I began to understand how important it is to listen to improvised music. Especially to interpret composers that use folk music as a basis for their pieces, like Bartok, Dvorak, or even Chopin. It made me realize that I have to access the music from the standpoint of someone who is sitting down at an instrument, making sounds that they like, and then somehow having to translate that onto the page. I think when we're students, we try to play what we see there in the notes, but that's as far as it goes. There is a disconnect from the composer who initially had to translate the sound onto the page to begin with. And to any of us who have had to write music onto a page, it is nearly impossible to imply everything that we intend through the pen. The timing and breath of music cannot be expressed exactly in written music. Musical notation is just a loose representation of the intention. So what must happen to interpret music through a score is to reach through the page and to try to play what that composer sat down and played as it was born in the first place. Anyway, I could go on with this part, but hopefully I've gotten my point across with just this. What I was getting at is that when I realized all of this, I still had to struggle to achieve it, whereas now, it seems to flow quite a bit more naturally. I don't know how it happened. Magic!
One thing that I have been bummed about in my improvs is that I have a tendency to always stay in 4/4 time. Probably a side-effect of living in the late 20th century, early 21st, when virtually all pop music is in common time. So today I went for a 6/8. Not sure if it worked, but anyway, you'll hear it.
Here we go, Day 20: https://ia800501.us.archive.org/4/items/Improv9311/9_3_114_04Pm.mp3
and Day 20, Part 2: https://ia700706.us.archive.org/10/items/Improv29311/9_3_113_56Pm.mp3
because pretty things are pretty.
I'm not the best of multi-taskers... in fact, I'm pretty bad at it. It translates into my music. Something I've always struggled with has been to hear consecutive lines polyphonically over a long period of time while I play. Of course, I've gotten better at it over the years through a lot of musical training, but still, not my strong suit. So as I've been improvising, I've been trying now and then to play multiple lines in canon, usually failing. I don't think I posted any of those. ;) But it's given me a real appreciation for the layering of lines when I am able to play them, and thus when I play through classical stuff, my ears grab that stuff a lot more easily.
I'm also breathing differently. A handful of years ago, when I started getting into flamenco, I began to understand how important it is to listen to improvised music. Especially to interpret composers that use folk music as a basis for their pieces, like Bartok, Dvorak, or even Chopin. It made me realize that I have to access the music from the standpoint of someone who is sitting down at an instrument, making sounds that they like, and then somehow having to translate that onto the page. I think when we're students, we try to play what we see there in the notes, but that's as far as it goes. There is a disconnect from the composer who initially had to translate the sound onto the page to begin with. And to any of us who have had to write music onto a page, it is nearly impossible to imply everything that we intend through the pen. The timing and breath of music cannot be expressed exactly in written music. Musical notation is just a loose representation of the intention. So what must happen to interpret music through a score is to reach through the page and to try to play what that composer sat down and played as it was born in the first place. Anyway, I could go on with this part, but hopefully I've gotten my point across with just this. What I was getting at is that when I realized all of this, I still had to struggle to achieve it, whereas now, it seems to flow quite a bit more naturally. I don't know how it happened. Magic!
One thing that I have been bummed about in my improvs is that I have a tendency to always stay in 4/4 time. Probably a side-effect of living in the late 20th century, early 21st, when virtually all pop music is in common time. So today I went for a 6/8. Not sure if it worked, but anyway, you'll hear it.
Here we go, Day 20: https://ia800501.us.archive.org/4/items/Improv9311/9_3_114_04Pm.mp3
and Day 20, Part 2: https://ia700706.us.archive.org/10/items/Improv29311/9_3_113_56Pm.mp3
because pretty things are pretty.
The Busking Project
It's funny that once upon a time, I did scales and arpeggios and things like that to warm up for playing classical music. Now I play classical music to warm up for improv. :)
These past couple of weeks, one of my best friends, Nick B., has been in town during a big project of his. He has been traveling around the world since March, and will continue through December, filming and interviewing buskers around the world, and posting about them online. So far, he as been through Portugal, Spain, Morocco, Greece, Italy, Turkey, India, Thailand, Japan, and I'm sure many, many more that I've missed here. Such a cool project! I'm so proud and excited for him. Check it out: http://thebuskingproject.com/
It's not likely that you'll see me busking anytime soon, but then again, I never thought I could be an improvisor, either!
Here we go, Day 19: https://ia700707.us.archive.org/1/items/Improv9211/9_2_114_26Pm.mp3
And I think it's probably time for another picture, right? I've actually got two. Aren't you excited?
These past couple of weeks, one of my best friends, Nick B., has been in town during a big project of his. He has been traveling around the world since March, and will continue through December, filming and interviewing buskers around the world, and posting about them online. So far, he as been through Portugal, Spain, Morocco, Greece, Italy, Turkey, India, Thailand, Japan, and I'm sure many, many more that I've missed here. Such a cool project! I'm so proud and excited for him. Check it out: http://thebuskingproject.com/
It's not likely that you'll see me busking anytime soon, but then again, I never thought I could be an improvisor, either!
Here we go, Day 19: https://ia700707.us.archive.org/1/items/Improv9211/9_2_114_26Pm.mp3
And I think it's probably time for another picture, right? I've actually got two. Aren't you excited?
Do you know what these are? They arrived at my home yesterday... a belated birthday gift from my amazing friend, Erica. Tuning hammer, and mutes. Now I know what you're thinking... the piano still was not in tune for the improv. Well... *cough*... that's all I've got to say about that. I'll take 'em for a spin soon enough. :)
and
This is Marc. Add this to the "urban idiot sports" album.
Days are numbered.
Sorry for all the sirens in the background. It's just a fact of NY living.
How is it already September? I'm gonna miss these summer days. Breakfast: two fried eggs with a salad of red leaf lettuce, figs, raspberries, and honeyed goat cheese, doused in balsamic vinaigrette.
Here we go, Day 18: https://ia600709.us.archive.org/20/items/Improv9111/9_1_114_48Pm.mp3
How is it already September? I'm gonna miss these summer days. Breakfast: two fried eggs with a salad of red leaf lettuce, figs, raspberries, and honeyed goat cheese, doused in balsamic vinaigrette.
Here we go, Day 18: https://ia600709.us.archive.org/20/items/Improv9111/9_1_114_48Pm.mp3
Coming back.
... to New York is always hectic. Mostly just the ride home from the airport.
Needless to say, today was busy. I have lots of time to write on future days. Today I'm just gettin' it on here. Even though I kind of hate it. Boo.
Here we go, Day 17: https://ia800501.us.archive.org/21/items/Improv83111/8_31_115_26Pm.mp3
Needless to say, today was busy. I have lots of time to write on future days. Today I'm just gettin' it on here. Even though I kind of hate it. Boo.
Here we go, Day 17: https://ia800501.us.archive.org/21/items/Improv83111/8_31_115_26Pm.mp3
Found:
In a local bar, two fabulous brews.
Surly Furious. A delicious, Minnesota born India Pale Ale. http://www.surlybrewing.com/beer/year-round-beers.html
, and
Bell's Oberon Ale. From a nearby midwestern state, Michigan wheat ale. Crisp, clean, made me utter an unexpected, "Ooooh, mama!" upon first sip. http://www.bellsbeer.com/brands/#Seasonal-2
What this has to do with improv, I'm not sure. But it is pure poetry as far as I'm concerned.
Here we go, Day 16: https://ia600706.us.archive.org/2/items/Improv83011/8_30_119_41Pm.mp3
Surly Furious. A delicious, Minnesota born India Pale Ale. http://www.surlybrewing.com/beer/year-round-beers.html
, and
Bell's Oberon Ale. From a nearby midwestern state, Michigan wheat ale. Crisp, clean, made me utter an unexpected, "Ooooh, mama!" upon first sip. http://www.bellsbeer.com/brands/#Seasonal-2
What this has to do with improv, I'm not sure. But it is pure poetry as far as I'm concerned.
Here we go, Day 16: https://ia600706.us.archive.org/2/items/Improv83011/8_30_119_41Pm.mp3
Tickles.
It was difficult to fit in some good improv time today. I've been in Minneapolis with my parents for the past several days, and my sister, her husband, and three little ones arrived yesterday to join us. I love the time spent with them, and it was the first time I got to see little baby Claire, who was born in mid-July. With ages 5 weeks, 2 years, and 4 years, there isn't much time to do any personal stuff... it's all about the kids.
Joy was reading to Ana when I sat down to do my improv. Mom held the little baby, and Toby was amusing himself with a miniature mailbox and block set. He didn't notice at first, but it wasn't long before Toby toddled over for a peek at what was happening without him. He climbed up onto the piano bench and forced his way under my arm and onto my lap. He plunked out a few notes, and enjoyed the response he got from the instrument, but wanted me to play something. Not content with what he heard, he pulled open the book of Beethoven sonatas that had sat on the music stand, and pretended to play Opus 31, No. 1. He said, "Play!! You play!" So I played a bit, and he was momentarily enchanted. I turned the page, and continued into a section with some trills and long scales. Toby giggled. "Again!" I played it again. "AGAIN!" He laughed and laughed. "Where is that?" he asked. I pointed to the place where each of the sounds could be heard. When I turned the page, he flipped back, and said, "Play here!" I did as I was told, and he squealed again. "It tickles!!!" he said as he collapsed into little snickers. I could be wrong, but I think the kid might be into music.
Here we go, Day 15: https://ia600700.us.archive.org/19/items/Improv82911/8_29_117_57Pm.mp3
Joy was reading to Ana when I sat down to do my improv. Mom held the little baby, and Toby was amusing himself with a miniature mailbox and block set. He didn't notice at first, but it wasn't long before Toby toddled over for a peek at what was happening without him. He climbed up onto the piano bench and forced his way under my arm and onto my lap. He plunked out a few notes, and enjoyed the response he got from the instrument, but wanted me to play something. Not content with what he heard, he pulled open the book of Beethoven sonatas that had sat on the music stand, and pretended to play Opus 31, No. 1. He said, "Play!! You play!" So I played a bit, and he was momentarily enchanted. I turned the page, and continued into a section with some trills and long scales. Toby giggled. "Again!" I played it again. "AGAIN!" He laughed and laughed. "Where is that?" he asked. I pointed to the place where each of the sounds could be heard. When I turned the page, he flipped back, and said, "Play here!" I did as I was told, and he squealed again. "It tickles!!!" he said as he collapsed into little snickers. I could be wrong, but I think the kid might be into music.
Here we go, Day 15: https://ia600700.us.archive.org/19/items/Improv82911/8_29_117_57Pm.mp3
Wanderer.
I saw my friend David yesterday, and was reminded of an entire world that I was submerged in for a while a few years back. David is a Minnesota-grown, intermittent New Yorker, flamenco guitarist, and has recently gotten back from a year and a half in Spain. He's not sure where to go next. New York, Minnesota, New Mexico, or somewhere entirely different. Why not?
Naturally, the conversation turned to music, improv, classical, flamenco, what have you... and it made me want to re-dabble in some of those sounds for a while. So I did. But I won't let you listen to that. At least not yet. That's an entirely different language, and it will probably be a while before I'd be willing to share that hackneyed mess with the world.
So today, you get another blues. Again, not sure why. But I have always felt that the blues and flamenco are very very similar, just one has the whole Sephardic twist. The soul is the same: intimate, guttural, painful, lonesome cries, exiles from the caverns of the heart.
Here we go, Day 14 (wow, two weeks!): https://ia700701.us.archive.org/23/items/Improv82811/8_28_1112_52Pm.mp3
Naturally, the conversation turned to music, improv, classical, flamenco, what have you... and it made me want to re-dabble in some of those sounds for a while. So I did. But I won't let you listen to that. At least not yet. That's an entirely different language, and it will probably be a while before I'd be willing to share that hackneyed mess with the world.
So today, you get another blues. Again, not sure why. But I have always felt that the blues and flamenco are very very similar, just one has the whole Sephardic twist. The soul is the same: intimate, guttural, painful, lonesome cries, exiles from the caverns of the heart.
Here we go, Day 14 (wow, two weeks!): https://ia700701.us.archive.org/23/items/Improv82811/8_28_1112_52Pm.mp3
Dreams.
Today when I sat down to do my improv, I had about half an hour to play before my friend came to pick me up for a hang. I wasn't particularly inspired, and didn't have anything in mind except to get some stuff on record before the day was over.
What came out right off the bat, without my permission, was a blues. I don't even know why. I haven't been sad, or "bluesy." I went with it, anyhow, and I'll post it down below so you can all hear. My second improv, I decided was going to be a little lighter, and it was, but I just wasn't feeling it. I even thought about quitting before I felt "finished," but didn't because I know that sometimes it doesn't feel as good as it sounds, and I wanted to give a fair shot. The next one, again, without permission, was another blues. And the following one still had elements of blues in it. I kept going with the improvs, just to see what else I could bang out.
So what I've been noticing more and more, now nearly two weeks into the project, is that there are some motives and shapes that just seem to want to come out. Some of them are exactly the same as a week ago, and some are modified, but recognizable. Is it in the shape of my hand, and the physical aspect of it that my muscles just like? Or my ear? Both? And then there are the musical styles that just happen. Like the blues today. I don't know how to play the blues. I like the blues, but I've never learned them. Why the blues? Why today?
What I'm concluding is that improv is essentially a waking dream. There are things that come out in the music that are both conscious and subconscious. We can guide the dreams if we're aware, and can control certain elements, but then there is an entirely different portion that just happens that we're not even sure where it comes from. The subconscious feelings that have been locked away, or recalled parts of the past, present, future, are all expressed through improv. Maybe this sounds far fetched, but I think I'm on to something. It makes sense, then, why playing music is such an emotional release... perhaps it gives us a chance in our awakened state to ask impossible questions, play out alternate scenarios, and talk to our long gone friends, everything that we do when we dream.... And we're able to work toward freeing ourselves from internalized and unresolved conflict. I'm sounding to myself full of hooey. But maybe?
Here we go, Day 13: https://ia600705.us.archive.org/16/items/Improv82711/8_27_118_03Pm.mp3
and Day 13, part 2: https://ia600501.us.archive.org/35/items/Improv282711/8_27_118_17Pm.mp3
What came out right off the bat, without my permission, was a blues. I don't even know why. I haven't been sad, or "bluesy." I went with it, anyhow, and I'll post it down below so you can all hear. My second improv, I decided was going to be a little lighter, and it was, but I just wasn't feeling it. I even thought about quitting before I felt "finished," but didn't because I know that sometimes it doesn't feel as good as it sounds, and I wanted to give a fair shot. The next one, again, without permission, was another blues. And the following one still had elements of blues in it. I kept going with the improvs, just to see what else I could bang out.
So what I've been noticing more and more, now nearly two weeks into the project, is that there are some motives and shapes that just seem to want to come out. Some of them are exactly the same as a week ago, and some are modified, but recognizable. Is it in the shape of my hand, and the physical aspect of it that my muscles just like? Or my ear? Both? And then there are the musical styles that just happen. Like the blues today. I don't know how to play the blues. I like the blues, but I've never learned them. Why the blues? Why today?
What I'm concluding is that improv is essentially a waking dream. There are things that come out in the music that are both conscious and subconscious. We can guide the dreams if we're aware, and can control certain elements, but then there is an entirely different portion that just happens that we're not even sure where it comes from. The subconscious feelings that have been locked away, or recalled parts of the past, present, future, are all expressed through improv. Maybe this sounds far fetched, but I think I'm on to something. It makes sense, then, why playing music is such an emotional release... perhaps it gives us a chance in our awakened state to ask impossible questions, play out alternate scenarios, and talk to our long gone friends, everything that we do when we dream.... And we're able to work toward freeing ourselves from internalized and unresolved conflict. I'm sounding to myself full of hooey. But maybe?
Here we go, Day 13: https://ia600705.us.archive.org/16/items/Improv82711/8_27_118_03Pm.mp3
and Day 13, part 2: https://ia600501.us.archive.org/35/items/Improv282711/8_27_118_17Pm.mp3
That squirrel is searching for its nuts.
As I listen to my improvs, I notice that I don't really have much arc to most, or even any of them. When you create a piece of music, do you know how long it's going to be? Do you purposefully build to a certain place, and then do the whole golden ratio thing? Does it even matter if you don't do that?
I'm sensing that most of my music is sort of meditative, and doesn't naturally go anywhere on its own, but I think that's something that I would like it to do. Or at least some of the time. Do we let music flow where it wants to flow, or do we guide it into certain channels? And if we guide it, how do we do that and still sound organic? Maybe these are some of the things that need to be practiced as an improvisor.
Here we go, Day 12: https://ia600701.us.archive.org/4/items/Improv82611/8_26_115_14Pm.mp3
I'm sensing that most of my music is sort of meditative, and doesn't naturally go anywhere on its own, but I think that's something that I would like it to do. Or at least some of the time. Do we let music flow where it wants to flow, or do we guide it into certain channels? And if we guide it, how do we do that and still sound organic? Maybe these are some of the things that need to be practiced as an improvisor.
Here we go, Day 12: https://ia600701.us.archive.org/4/items/Improv82611/8_26_115_14Pm.mp3
The Night's Music.
Today was a magnificently beautiful one. When I got home from lunch at a great BBQ place with an old friend, the cicadas were rattling in the trees, the sun was shining strong and warm, mom and I went for a walk around Lake Harriet. We stopped at one of my favorite places in the whole city, The Rose Gardens, and dipped our feet into the lovely old fountain. These are the elements of summer.
When I sat down for tonight's improv, I was acutely aware of some of my favorite summer sounds... watering of the garden, the screen door opening and closing, and crickets. I always wanted to be able to make the cricket sound. My friend said that all I need to do is rub my wings together, but I just can't rub them that fast!
Here we go, Day 11: https://ia600703.us.archive.org/22/items/Improv82511/8_25_118_19Pm.mp3
and Day 11, Part 2: https://ia600707.us.archive.org/11/items/Improv282511/8_25_118_24Pm.mp3
When I sat down for tonight's improv, I was acutely aware of some of my favorite summer sounds... watering of the garden, the screen door opening and closing, and crickets. I always wanted to be able to make the cricket sound. My friend said that all I need to do is rub my wings together, but I just can't rub them that fast!
Here we go, Day 11: https://ia600703.us.archive.org/22/items/Improv82511/8_25_118_19Pm.mp3
and Day 11, Part 2: https://ia600707.us.archive.org/11/items/Improv282511/8_25_118_24Pm.mp3
Coming home.
I'll bet that over the course of this project I write about four of these. I come home to Minneapolis about that many times each year.
Coming home for me is good. I didn't know that when I was itching to live in NY all those years ago that there would come a time when I really missed being near my family. But I do, and I admit it that it's very hard being apart from them. Especially knowing that I'm missing the formative years of my nieces and nephews. And also that one day it'll just be me, and no more coming home. I hate to write about that stuff, but it's true, and it isn't the first time it's crossed my mind. I'm very envious of those that have their loved ones nearby.
Anyway, coming home this time began with a long wait while my parents inched through a two-hour traffic jam, followed by some good old-fashioned back-seat driving, questions about New York City, discussion on how New Yorkers say "on line" rather than "in line," yesterday's earthquake, hamburger grilling, sweet corn on the cob, mom telling me not to lean back in my chair, dad leaning back in his chair and almost falling over, mom asking dad if he needed a helmet over there, doing laundry since what I packed was all dirty, in-home security cameras, what it means to be in a major or minor key, and finally a little improv.
About a year or so ago, my parents acquired a little Everett spinet at an estate sale. They were quite proud, since it is in beautiful shape, and only cost a little over $200. And honestly, they got a great deal. But since I'm the only pianist in the family, and I only visit four times a year, they haven't gotten around to tuning it. It seems to have been well maintained before we got it, but still. Estate sale? The thing is way, way out. What should be an octave is more like a major ninth.
That being said, I wasn't sure what this next week of improvs was going to be like. I even recorded some of the airport noise in case I couldn't get something I approved of at home. But then, after I sat down and started to play, I decided that squeaky pedals and pulsating sound waves that you can almost taste they're so thick were kind of awesome. Work with whatchya' got, that's what I say.
Here we go, Day 10: https://ia600701.us.archive.org/12/items/Improv82411/8_24_119_41Pm.mp3
and Day 10, part 2: https://ia700702.us.archive.org/12/items/Improv282411/8_24_119_52Pm.mp3
And see that little white box to the left of the TV? That's another security camera that my parents got for their quaint little fortress of a home. It was on sale. Rock bottom, dad says. And supposedly it barks. They don't have it hooked up anywhere permanent so that they can move it around wherever it is most needed. So where they have it now, well, they can watch people watch TV. Dad says people look pretty stupid when they watch TV. I asked if he ever watched himself watch TV. He said no.
Coming home for me is good. I didn't know that when I was itching to live in NY all those years ago that there would come a time when I really missed being near my family. But I do, and I admit it that it's very hard being apart from them. Especially knowing that I'm missing the formative years of my nieces and nephews. And also that one day it'll just be me, and no more coming home. I hate to write about that stuff, but it's true, and it isn't the first time it's crossed my mind. I'm very envious of those that have their loved ones nearby.
Anyway, coming home this time began with a long wait while my parents inched through a two-hour traffic jam, followed by some good old-fashioned back-seat driving, questions about New York City, discussion on how New Yorkers say "on line" rather than "in line," yesterday's earthquake, hamburger grilling, sweet corn on the cob, mom telling me not to lean back in my chair, dad leaning back in his chair and almost falling over, mom asking dad if he needed a helmet over there, doing laundry since what I packed was all dirty, in-home security cameras, what it means to be in a major or minor key, and finally a little improv.
About a year or so ago, my parents acquired a little Everett spinet at an estate sale. They were quite proud, since it is in beautiful shape, and only cost a little over $200. And honestly, they got a great deal. But since I'm the only pianist in the family, and I only visit four times a year, they haven't gotten around to tuning it. It seems to have been well maintained before we got it, but still. Estate sale? The thing is way, way out. What should be an octave is more like a major ninth.
That being said, I wasn't sure what this next week of improvs was going to be like. I even recorded some of the airport noise in case I couldn't get something I approved of at home. But then, after I sat down and started to play, I decided that squeaky pedals and pulsating sound waves that you can almost taste they're so thick were kind of awesome. Work with whatchya' got, that's what I say.
Here we go, Day 10: https://ia600701.us.archive.org/12/items/Improv82411/8_24_119_41Pm.mp3
and Day 10, part 2: https://ia700702.us.archive.org/12/items/Improv282411/8_24_119_52Pm.mp3
And see that little white box to the left of the TV? That's another security camera that my parents got for their quaint little fortress of a home. It was on sale. Rock bottom, dad says. And supposedly it barks. They don't have it hooked up anywhere permanent so that they can move it around wherever it is most needed. So where they have it now, well, they can watch people watch TV. Dad says people look pretty stupid when they watch TV. I asked if he ever watched himself watch TV. He said no.
Obviously Mary Prescott.
Today I had dinner over at Erich and Shelly's, and of course, told them about this new project. Erich was pretty excited for me, because he too is a classical musician that gets that same itch that I get about wanting to expand my musical horizons. At some point the question came up about, well, how do I begin an improv? Am I thinking about adhering to a harmonic structure, or do I start with an idea of what I'm going to play? My first instinct was to say that since I know nothing, I just go for it. But when I thought about the kinds of things that I've been putting on here, I think that probably I do have a few concepts rolling around from time to time. Today, for instance, after futzing around with my first improv, I got into a kind of Bartok groove. I didn't mean to get there, but once I got there, the following few improvs were all based on that. And for whatever reason, in the back of my head I've been telling myself to try something new for each of these days.
It's been that way with the postings, too. I wasn't really aware of it until two or three days ago, when I had some improv that I really liked, but it was very similar to stuff I had put on before, so I chose something else for the blog.
This leads me into a question that is probably a big one for many improvisors. How do you recognize your personal voice, and how do you develop it? Is it something that needs to be consciously developed, or does it just happen? And am I ignoring it when I push myself into a different zone? I think that it's possible for musicians to be very good at many different styles, but there has to be a point where you're playing something that is uniquely you. That thing that when people listen to your recordings without seeing the label, they say, "Oh, yeah. Obviously Mary Prescott. Do you hear how she does this and that, and then in this later part goes the other thing... That is so Prescott, right there." I mean, nobody does that with my recordings except for me, but music nerds have been known to carry on lengthy conversations like this.
I had written something about classical vs. improv in this arena, but it's getting too tedious to delve into. Every time I write these, I open up a giant can of worms, which I'm happy to get into, but it takes a really long time to write about. So, let's leave it with those questions of personal voice. And onto a related tangent...
Jesse had mentioned to Akiko that when he starts a free improv, he consciously tries NOT to adhere to a harmonic plan. This is the same Jesse that inspired this project. Then, the other day I was chatting with Mike, who is a phenomenal multi-genre cellist, and he was saying that almost no one goes into improv without some sort of plan. And then we proceeded to get into the kinds of plans that one can have. I know that they're both right. I think I lean Jesse's way, but I suspect a good way to develop improv chops is to explore guidelines.
So I feel like I'm in a really good position right now: standing in front of a bunch of doors, and allowed to peek through any or all of them. The next question is, do I walk through a door that I like and hang out a while, study the flora and fauna? Or do I keep peeking into different worlds before settling down on any of them? I guess both?
Here we go, Day 9: https://ia600707.us.archive.org/26/items/Improv82311/Memo-12.mp3https://ia600707.us.archive.org/26/items/Improv82311/Memo-12.mp3
And today's photo, to entice the more visually oriented. Because who doesn't love a cute kitten photo?
It's been that way with the postings, too. I wasn't really aware of it until two or three days ago, when I had some improv that I really liked, but it was very similar to stuff I had put on before, so I chose something else for the blog.
This leads me into a question that is probably a big one for many improvisors. How do you recognize your personal voice, and how do you develop it? Is it something that needs to be consciously developed, or does it just happen? And am I ignoring it when I push myself into a different zone? I think that it's possible for musicians to be very good at many different styles, but there has to be a point where you're playing something that is uniquely you. That thing that when people listen to your recordings without seeing the label, they say, "Oh, yeah. Obviously Mary Prescott. Do you hear how she does this and that, and then in this later part goes the other thing... That is so Prescott, right there." I mean, nobody does that with my recordings except for me, but music nerds have been known to carry on lengthy conversations like this.
I had written something about classical vs. improv in this arena, but it's getting too tedious to delve into. Every time I write these, I open up a giant can of worms, which I'm happy to get into, but it takes a really long time to write about. So, let's leave it with those questions of personal voice. And onto a related tangent...
Jesse had mentioned to Akiko that when he starts a free improv, he consciously tries NOT to adhere to a harmonic plan. This is the same Jesse that inspired this project. Then, the other day I was chatting with Mike, who is a phenomenal multi-genre cellist, and he was saying that almost no one goes into improv without some sort of plan. And then we proceeded to get into the kinds of plans that one can have. I know that they're both right. I think I lean Jesse's way, but I suspect a good way to develop improv chops is to explore guidelines.
So I feel like I'm in a really good position right now: standing in front of a bunch of doors, and allowed to peek through any or all of them. The next question is, do I walk through a door that I like and hang out a while, study the flora and fauna? Or do I keep peeking into different worlds before settling down on any of them? I guess both?
Here we go, Day 9: https://ia600707.us.archive.org/26/items/Improv82311/Memo-12.mp3https://ia600707.us.archive.org/26/items/Improv82311/Memo-12.mp3
And today's photo, to entice the more visually oriented. Because who doesn't love a cute kitten photo?
kazillions of clusters.
I used to hate NY in the summertime. I had good reason. It's really hot here, especially with the tall buildings, asphalt and concrete radiating all that disgusting mugginess, buses driving past and blowing kazillions of dirty dust particles (or should I say chunks) all over everybody's sticky, sweaty selves. The subways are the worst. And at my height, my face is exactly armpit level. If it's gonna be that hot and gross, I prefer being in a place that offers a nearby beach. That's why I usually kick out of NY for the summer, but since I started my music workshop, I haven't really had as much a chance to do that.
But anyway, today was gorgeous. So I don't know what I'm complaining about. And what I wanted to say was that NY actually has a ton of cool stuff going on in the summer that I've been taking full advantage of this year. Free movies in the park, outdoor tango dancing, live music, live plays, kayaking, farmer's markets... I could go on. It's great. Plus, I spend at least an hour or so sitting in the Sheep Meadow every day... lately to listen to my improvs. This must be what I was thinking about while I was listening, because I don't know why else I am writing it all in here. I've just wasted two minutes of your time.
A handful of years ago, I got to a point where I realized that, hey, I don't hear dissonance anymore. And I don't mean that I don't recognize it, but that I just don't hear that "bad" sound anymore. I'm not sure if that's good, because I know that it is physically painful for some people to hear dissonance. And I don't want to hurt anyone. But there's something in the colors and textures that one can produce that I just love.
Today I felt sort of nostalgic for clusters. It's been a while since I've worked on a piece that has them, but when I had in the past, I really loved them. They're freaking fun. So today I was all about the clusters. And actually, I feel like I had started incorporating them little by little unconsciously into the other improvs. But today, the cluster was king.
Two of 'em. First one, very Stravinsky. Second one, very Mary.
Here we go, Day 8:
https://ia600703.us.archive.org/11/items/Improv82211/Memo-10.mp3
https://ia600704.us.archive.org/20/items/Improv82211_534/Memo-10.mp3
https://ia700701.us.archive.org/32/items/Improv282211/Memo-11.mp3
Oh, and today I'm going to add a picture. I decided that people like pictures, and they want to see them. It doesn't matter what I put on here. And plus, Akiko said that they will make it more inviting.
This is Will, who, in the midst of a hang, asked if that big red box was a tool box, and then started to fix my piano bench once I told him not to move the bench that was over the big red tool box, because it was broken. It was 1:45 am. Now the piano bench is at Will's house. Supposedly getting fixed.
But anyway, today was gorgeous. So I don't know what I'm complaining about. And what I wanted to say was that NY actually has a ton of cool stuff going on in the summer that I've been taking full advantage of this year. Free movies in the park, outdoor tango dancing, live music, live plays, kayaking, farmer's markets... I could go on. It's great. Plus, I spend at least an hour or so sitting in the Sheep Meadow every day... lately to listen to my improvs. This must be what I was thinking about while I was listening, because I don't know why else I am writing it all in here. I've just wasted two minutes of your time.
A handful of years ago, I got to a point where I realized that, hey, I don't hear dissonance anymore. And I don't mean that I don't recognize it, but that I just don't hear that "bad" sound anymore. I'm not sure if that's good, because I know that it is physically painful for some people to hear dissonance. And I don't want to hurt anyone. But there's something in the colors and textures that one can produce that I just love.
Today I felt sort of nostalgic for clusters. It's been a while since I've worked on a piece that has them, but when I had in the past, I really loved them. They're freaking fun. So today I was all about the clusters. And actually, I feel like I had started incorporating them little by little unconsciously into the other improvs. But today, the cluster was king.
Two of 'em. First one, very Stravinsky. Second one, very Mary.
Here we go, Day 8:
https://ia600703.us.archive.org/11/items/Improv82211/Memo-10.mp3
https://ia600704.us.archive.org/20/items/Improv82211_534/Memo-10.mp3
https://ia700701.us.archive.org/32/items/Improv282211/Memo-11.mp3
Oh, and today I'm going to add a picture. I decided that people like pictures, and they want to see them. It doesn't matter what I put on here. And plus, Akiko said that they will make it more inviting.
This is Will, who, in the midst of a hang, asked if that big red box was a tool box, and then started to fix my piano bench once I told him not to move the bench that was over the big red tool box, because it was broken. It was 1:45 am. Now the piano bench is at Will's house. Supposedly getting fixed.
there's no good title.
These last couple of days are turning out to be pretty busy, and full of end of the season summer socializing, so I'm not going to pontificate about music or improv or any of that... I'm just gonna get today's improv on here. Hope you like it.
Here we go, day 7: https://ia600700.us.archive.org/1/items/Improv82111/Memo-9.mp3
Here we go, day 7: https://ia600700.us.archive.org/1/items/Improv82111/Memo-9.mp3