Just Say Yes: Memoirs of a Geezer Life is an Ad Lib Solo
My first
visit to Kansas City's new jazz museum was on a recent Friday afternoon,
shortly after lunch. We customers shared
the various listening posts, where, with earphones, you could hear specific
vintage records complementing the brief stories of the artist(s) featured
in that particular exhibit, from pre-Louis Armstrong to post-Wynton Marsalis.
(The odd thing to me was that while most of the artists we were listening
to were black--all of us doing the listening were lily white.)
One of the
features of this truly outstanding facility was a twenty minute documentary
on the history and mystique of this dynamic art form. As I watched
this insightful presentation, it occurred to me that not only was jazz
a vital part of
my life--in many ways it was the pattern of my life. "The
Three Rs" began to take on a brand new meaning for me.
The
film, with moving stills, narration, and music briefly traced the art form's
historical roots: "field songs", "hollers", and the laments
known as "blues". These were sung by the laboring slaves, incorporating
the rhythms and syncopations of their African heritage. Before long,
the excitement and intricacy of a new music sweeping the Mississippi riverboats
and shore-side saloons was added: "ragtime". By the early
1900s, America was dancing to a new music, played with an assortment of wind
and rhythm instruments, called "jazz." Many critics and
musicologists consider jazz to be America's most significant contribution
to the world's cultural inventory.
Most of
this music was played by ear, and each musician was given a chance to spontaneously
improvise (create a new melody, or "line") to a chorus of the song
being played. Often this was referred to as an "ad lib solo."
As its popularity
spread, this dance music gradually evolved into larger groups, resulting in
the big bands of the thirties and forties. With sections of saxophones,
brass, and rhythm, they primarily played rehearsed orchestrations. However,
even during this "swing" period, portions of each arrangement
were often allotted to individual band members to improvise an ad lib
solo.
"Spontaneous
improvisation" was not original with jazz. Classical composers often
indicated certain passages which were left to the performer to compose what
was played "on the spot". In jazz, the solo melody being instantaneously
created must conform to the harmony and structure of the song being played,
the tune of which was usually established by the entire ensemble in the first
chorus. A humorist notes, "that in 'playing around' this melody,
it is important that the audience is still aware of the melody the artist
is trying to avoid."
In doing
all this, the ad lib jazz solo incorporates the three elements of Risk, Responsibility,
and Reward--which seem to encapsulate my formula for living.
Since each
solo is by definition unique, its effectiveness depends upon the melodic line
created and its interpretation, plus the mood and dynamics of the presentation. The
element of risk is ever-present, since the inspiration of the
moment can often lead the soloist into unfamiliar harmonic or rhythmic complications. Then
too, there is always the peer factor--the desire to impress, and certainly
to avoid making a fool of one's self in front of fellow musicians.
Of course,
accepting risk as a part of one's lifestyle also has obvious built-in hazards:
the possibility of failed projects, disillusionment's, and unfortunate relationships. Of
course, as in jazz, the willingness to venture into uncharted waters
is predicated on a certain confidence in one's abilities, degree of preparation
and demonstrated ability to cope.
"Faking
it" often means merely playing by ear. ("Hum a few bars and
I'll fake it.") In the literal sense, though, in jazz music it is
considered irresponsible to attempt a solo if one isn't familiar with the harmonic
structure of the tune itself. Nothing reveals an amateur more quickly
than improvised notes which obviously don't fit the original chords of the
song being played. Also, since this art form is collaborative, and other
players may be creating an improvised background to compliment the solo, discordant
notes would destroy the ensemble effect. However, a musical mishap can
be turned into a learning experience by a corrective awareness of the error. This
sense of artistic responsibility is the combination of an innate
gift of talent, continuing years of practice and listening, and a musical
dedication to the concept of "esprit de corp."
Choosing
to live on, or near "the edge" in a civilized society requires
not only a willingness to accept the disappointments that often follow
taking calculated risks, but also the maturity to admit and avoid repetition
of the mistakes and errors in judgment that negatively affect your life
and the lives of others. Taking
risks without the concomitant sense of responsibility is, in the long
run, almost certain to invite a plethora of problems.
Finally,
the reward. In a jazz solo, it is often an immediate, integral,
almost magical part of the creative performance process itself. A
player's personal satisfaction is often combined with genuine amazement at
the level of artistic achievement he or she attained in a soaring moment of
inspired creation. Sometimes a nod, or approving look from a fellow musician
may be all the reward needed. For others, the
applause of the listeners is their fulfillment. (Occasionally,
the money isn't all that bad, either.)
In the ad
lib solo of living, the soaring, inspired moments may be rather sporadic, but
the satisfaction of meaningful relationships, the joy of discovery, and
the surprise of unexpected accomplishments occur with surprising frequency. Whether
the rewards of such a risk-oriented approach to living outweigh the more assured
benefits of living a sensible, cautious, carefully planned life is, of course,
a totally subjective judgment. But for me, I'll keep my Three
Rs. I
wouldn't risk a change.
More Philosophy Articles and Poems coming soon... thanks for visiting!
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