Classical musicians and jazz music

Photo, Andrei Z

I try to be both a classical musician and a jazz musician. This dual pursuit is sometimes detrimental to both sides, but often beneficial, and I enjoy it. I’ve put in serious study, listening, and practice hours with both kinds of music.

Jazz has influenced classical composers enough that classical musicians can’t ignore it—if you’re an orchestral clarinetist, it’s only a matter of time before you have to face Rhapsody in Blue. So it’s not unusual to hear classical musicians, especially in academic situations, address aspects of jazz playing.

It’s disappointing to me to hear classical musicians use pejorative language when describing jazz style, but frequently terms like “sloppy,” “lazy,” “harsh,” or “piercing” are used to characterize its techniques and sounds. In the last few months, some egregious and ill-informed examples of this have appeared in the blogosphere, and I can think of several examples during that same period when I have heard that kind of talk in masterclasses and workshops.

I don’t think that the examples I’ve seen lately were intentionally belittling or snobbish. And, in fact, in some cases the intent seemed to be to express appreciation for jazz music and jazz musicians, but the choice of words betrays some underlying attitudes about the relationship between classical and jazz.

If you’re a classical musician, these are the kinds of things I want you to know about jazz playing:

  • Classical musicians hold themselves to very high—and very specific—standards when it comes to tone. But in jazz, we take what we consider a more open-minded approach. In jazz, the fact that my tone doesn’t meet classical standards doesn’t mean that I’m undisciplined. It means that I’m an individual. I worked just as long and hard to develop my sound as you did. It’s not that I’m unconcerned about my tone; it’s that I’m unconcerned about yours.
  • The unique trappings of jazz style (inflections and other effects) are a complex and nuanced language of expression. When you suggest that scoops and smears can be added to your “jazzy” repertoire piece without properly absorbing and understanding their use and execution in jazz, I find it insulting to my craft and unpleasant to listen to. Can you imagine a musician untrained in Baroque style telling a room full of attentive students, “just put in some trills and stuff?” The results would be, um, unconvincing.
  • The same goes for swing. There’s a popular myth that to swing simply means to play eighth notes with a triplet feel. If you take the time to really listen to some good jazz (an hour with the Count Basie band is time well spent), you’ll quickly find that the triplet approach is inadequate for reproducing the subtleties of jazz rhythm. You’ll also find that swing is more than a rhythmic thing—it has a great deal to do with phrasing and articulation. Be aware that these things are not accurately expressed by the notation in your excerpt book.
  • There’s nothing careless, loose, or facile about jazz playing. I personally find that in many ways (not all ways) jazz is more mentally and physically demanding to play than classical music. For jazz playing, I need all the control, precision, and focus that I need for classical music, but with a much wider expressive range. I need the ability to do all the poised, graceful, and delicate things that classical musicians pride themselves on, plus a whole world of other sounds that you won’t find in Beethoven (or even in genuinely jazz-influenced composers of the twentieth century onward). Oh, and I often do these things while improvising—performing a spontaneously-composed melody in real time.

What I’m getting at is that playing convincingly in a jazz style (even setting aside improvisation) is as complex and subtle an art as playing classical music, and to do it well requires dedicated study. And that it’s a mistake for classical musicians to think of jazz as a charmingly primitive tribe that could be civilized by airlifting in some etude books.

I encourage musicians of all stripes to be curious, open-minded, and respectful about each other’s art.

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    My university is a small regional one, so our audition process probably isn’t as intense as some of the big name-brand music schools. If you’re preparing for an audition, you should definitely check in with that school to see what they expect, but here’s what I usually hear auditionees play, and what I’m thinking while I listen. Read More “What I listen for in scholarship auditions”

  • Ornaments are notes

    I think there are some unintended consequences of the way ornamentation is notated in Western music. Often the ornaments are indicated with some kind of abstract symbol or with tiny “extra” notes (like grace notes), located visually outside of the music’s rhythmic structure. This sometimes leads less-experienced musicians to the conclusion, consciously or otherwise, that the ornaments do not have precise rhythms. Sometimes music teachers feed this problem by explaining the rhythmic aspects of ornamentation in a vague or misleading way.

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    ferling-example.preview

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    To be clearer about the turn, I think it helps to think through exactly how many notes have to be played in the space of the F-natural (five) and some possible ways to fit them in. Here are a few: Read More “Ornaments are notes”

  • A troublemaker in the octet: A hermeneutical approach to Beethoven’s op. 103

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    Troublemaker motive
    "Troublemaker" motive

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  • Practicing, boredom, and guilt

    In my first semester as an undergraduate music major, I struggled with practicing. I felt guilty about not putting in as many hours as I knew I should, but more than that I felt guilty about the reason: I was bored and frustrated in the practice room. I loved playing music, but going into the practice rooms felt like serving time: counting down the minutes until my hours were done, or sneaking out early with a pang of shame, while my playing more or less failed to improve. I didn’t talk to my teacher or my classmates about it because I thought my lack of enthusiasm for practicing was a sign of some kind of personal weakness.

    But things got better. I gradually developed better ideas how to practice, and started to see results from it. My progress motivated me to get back into the practice rooms even more, and over the next few years practicing became my favorite part of the day.

    photo, mandykoh
    photo, mandykoh

    As a teacher, I have tried to be sensitive to this problem. I find that my students who struggle with practicing are sometimes afraid to talk to me about it, and want to brush aside talk of their declining practice hours with thin excuses about having a “busy week.” But if we can address the problem honestly and openly, I can offer some suggestions to help them enjoy their practice time more and get more out of it.

    I don’t think that there is a one-size-fits-all solution for practice room boredom, but in general I think these are some good starting points:

    • Put practicing on your daily schedule, and stick to the plan. It’s tough to scrape up enough enthusiasm for practicing when it’s the thing you have been putting off all day, and now it’s the only thing standing between you and some much-needed sleep.
    • Be goal-oriented in your practicing. Make a list of things that need improvement about your playing, and tackle a few things during each practice session. If you’re not sure what needs improvement, be sure to take good notes in your next lesson—as a teacher, I consider it my primary responsibility to help students hear what they really sound like, and what they could sound like. Or, don’t wait: make a recording of yourself (a smartphone makes this super easy), listen back, and jot down a few things that need work.
    • Don’t just try to improve your playing, work on improving your practicing, too. It’s an art form of its own. Soak up new practice ideas from your teacher, your classmates, and anywhere else you can find them. (Here are some of mine.) And, of course, invent your own.
    • Know your limits. Personally, I find that I can give about ten minutes of good, focused attention to a practice task before my productivity starts to decline, so I switch tasks at least that often. If I haven’t perfected something within ten minutes (and usually I haven’t), I’ll come back to it later with fresh energy. Figure out your own attention span and work with it, rather than against it.
    • Be honest with yourself and with your teacher about how your practicing is going. I guarantee your teacher can relate. She or he will probably have some great new ideas you can try, but might not know yet that you are in need of them.
    • Ride out the tough patches. Even once I started to get better at practicing, there still were (and still are) days when I just don’t feel like it. But there are lots of things in my life that need to be done that I don’t always feel like doing, and I still seem to manage. Sometimes the hardest, most tedious practicing seems to happen right before a breakthrough.
    • Start. I asked one of my students once what he found to be the hardest thing about practicing. He looked me in the eye and said, “Getting it out of the case.” Once he had his instrument assembled, he explained, it wasn’t so hard to just start practicing.

    You know practicing is important, and you love to make music. If your practicing is making you miserable, don’t give up on it! Make it fun and productive.

  • Simple and effective cues

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    Instead, try one of these:

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    2. Or, if a more visually-oriented cue is really necessary, keep it extremely simple. For a preparatory beat, lift your instrument and/or head up (an inch is more than enough), then cue by bringing it back down. Skip the curlicues.

    cue

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  • 10 ideas for more focused practicing

    It can be difficult to keep practice sessions focused and productive. Distractions, burnout, boredom, and bad habits get in the way of progress. Try some or all of these, see what works well for you, and make the most of your practice time.

    Photo,  woodleywonderworks. (license)
    Photo, woodleywonderworks. (license)
    1. Prepare yourself mentally. Before you start, take a few minutes for meditation, prayer, introspection, deep breathing, self-awareness, or whatever else helps you set aside the concerns of daily life and get in the zone.
    2. Prepare yourself physically. Stretch, hydrate, dress comfortably. Get enough sleep and exercise and eat a balanced diet. Protect yourself from repetitive-motion injuries and make sure your body can perform at its best.
    3. Embrace routine. Develop some habits around your practice schedule. A carefully-selected routine gets you into practice mode and reduces the chances of falling into procrastination. It also gives you a framework that can be fine-tuned when you have a new idea you would like to incorporate.
    4. Warm up. It doesn’t just mean bringing your instrument up to temperature. Do long tones, scales, articulation studies, or other things that get your instrument-playing muscles working together. Choose ones that demand your very best embouchure, voicing, breath support, finger technique, etc.
    5. Be goal-oriented. Know what you want to accomplish, as specifically as possible. Not “I’m going to practice my scales.” Try “I’m going to get my F-sharp major scale tempo up to sixteenth notes at 60 beats per minute with no wrong notes or hesitations.” Or even better: “I’m going to train my fingers to use that alternate D-sharp fingering in the top octave of the F-sharp major scale at 60 beats per minute with no incorrect or hestitant finger motions.” Goals shouldn’t only be technical; they can be expressive and interpretive, too. Make a list, and start checking things off.
    6. Seek variety. Don’t drive yourself crazy or die of boredom practicing one problem phrase for hours on end. Through experimentation, figure out how long you can really maintain focus and enthusiasm for a single practice task (10 minutes usually works well for me), and move to a new task when it gets less productive to work on the old one. You’ll come back to it later with fresh ears/eyes/fingers/lips.
    7. Take breaks. Take them frequently, but don’t leave them open-ended. Know exactly when you plan to get back to work, and what task you will be tackling next.
    8. Self-evaluate. You probably already have some kind of device you can use to record yourself. Listen back as though it’s somebody else playing. Make notes about what you hear. Pick the biggest-priority items and add them to your goal list.
    9. Escape distractions. You know what pulls you away from the task at hand. Hide it, silence it, power it down. How different would your practicing be if the only people or objects in sight were you, your instrument, and a music stand?
    10. Find inspiration. It’s hard to reach a performance goal if you aren’t sure what that goal sounds like. Don’t be afraid to listen to recordings or watch videos of your heroes—you will still sound like yourself, just a better-informed version of yourself. Listening to singers or players of instruments besides your can really open up your mind and ears, too.

    Have additional tips? Leave a comment!

11 Comments

  1. Good points.

    Indeed, someone who thinks that scoops and a rigid triplet feel makes him (or her) into a jazz musician would stand out as badly as someone at a classical concert dressed like Lady Gaga.

    It’s a feel (I like the analogy with Baroque music), and there’s no substitute for listening.

    Geoff

  2. I really appreciated this post. I was trained in classical playing much more than in jazz playing. I had some of these same thoughts when I first started my jazz studies. Needless to say I have and still do struggle greatly.
    Many people do not realize, but Jazz in many ways takes just as much dicipline as classical playing does. I found it particularly had to be disciplined in practicing my improvisation. I really appreciate the points you made in this post, and I think if any musician truly studies someone else’s art, there is always more to it than what meets the eye.

  3. Preach on brutha! Some great insights here. I actually think that the best classical musicians out there tend to have great respect for jazz – like Arthur Rubenstein coming out to the small clubs to hear Art Tatum back in the day.

    Also, thanks for linking to my “marching band scoop” video, glad it made sense. :)

  4. Bret – this is a great post. One that I will definite share. As someone who started in the classical world, and who’s taught many students who started in the classical world, I can appreciate what you’re saying.

    My favorite line is “It’s not that I’m unconcerned about my tone; it’s that I’m unconcerned about yours.” which is so true. And the image of “airlifting in some etude books” made me laugh out loud. You should make a web comic. :)

  5. What year is this? 1939? I’m surprised that this discussion is still going on. Aren’t most players today products of the university systems and therefore having largely the same educational experience (classes, instructors, classmates)? Obviously not, and Bret, you’d be the guy to know. Still, in a way, it’s kinda comforting that this still comes up.

  6. Very well stated, Bret. Both genres have there demands. I think we all agree that jazz contains the element (on-the-spot composition AKA improvisation) that most (although not all) classical music does not.

    I think both genres are great to listen to and perform. I do not consider myself to be a jazz musician not a classical musician, but simply a musician, capable of performing both. Maybe not at a level of someone who spends his/her time specifically on one, but at a level that is personally satisfying and one that allows me to play in a wide variety of settings.

  7. On the topic of classical musicians respecting jazz, I recall seeing a biographical show on Sir James Galway (woodwind content!). Near the end of the show, Galway mentioned that improvisation was a complete mystery to him and he was trying to learn it.

    So he was trying to learn to play the Blues.

    Using canned backing tracks.

    It was really enlightening to see someone as great as Galway, struggling with something I find so basic. (Don’t worry, it won’t go to my head. I’m not even 1/30 the musician Galway is. :-) )

  8. I have this professor in college, that always tells us “Jazz should not go with students training in classical music” (I am a drum major). I totally disagreed. I mean, having a leverage of what not to do and what to do is a leverage of the musician. Note movement will be the same regardless of style. And knowledge on both Jazz and Classical makes it more astounding. I totally agree that respect should be there…regardless of what style you want your listener to hear. Very nice article Brett.

  9. I think the two art forms shouldn’t even be compared logically and not doing so removes any offense or insult either way.

    Saying that classical musicians only focus on tone and that jazz musicians are not interested in their tone is tantamount to classical musicians saying that jazz consists of a crapload of scales and tritone embelishing and that classical musicians don’t care for your tritones, dominant sevenths “runs” etc.

    Let call a spade a spade and say that the two are so far removed it is arrogant for someone from the one art form to profess that the other is less expressive, less complex etc because you can only understand expression if u understand the form and the medium. Many believe classical is a genre that is under developed and stopped some 100 200 300 years ago’ depending on level of ignorance.

    I am a classical musician and classical musicians can be flexible mastering other genres in fact I have heard from many jazz teachers even that some of the best jazz musicians were classical musicians as they add a certain amount of sensitivity to the music. Others will argue that this is just not true. The truth is there are classical musicians that do want to branch out and learn jazz and those that don’t want to. Similarly there are jazz musician that want to branch out and those that don’t and there is humility as well as snobisdhness on both sides of the fence.

  10. Yeah, I am also surprised that this debate is still going on. By now I feel that the majority of classical musicians who don’t understand jazz do respect it, and even admit that jazz musicians can do things on their instruments that classical players can’t.

    But it really is comparing apples to oranges. The two fields are so different that you can’t say a player in one is superior to a player in another, or that one music is harder, better, or superior. And the tone debate? Some of the most beautiful tones I’ve heard have come out of a jazz horn. But a beautiful jazz tone is different from a beautiful classical tone.

    I’ve worked in both genres and while I find a classical snob every now and then who looks down their nose at jazz, I know that true musicians know how to respect and even admire something good that they’re not familiar with. At the end of the day, though, the two styles have a lot in common: You need to have mastery of your horn, you need to listen to the masters of your instrument, and you need to practice.

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