Things that aren’t jazz

Photo, frawemedia

Okay, first of all: what I’m talking about here is the “mainstream” jazz tradition, insofar as such a thing exists (you can make a good argument that it doesn’t, really). “Jazz” is a wide net to cast. To flip it around, if I were going to list things that aren’t “classical” music, I might say “use of the electric bass guitar” or even “microtonality.” Are those things really mutually exclusive with classical music? No. But they are not part of the tradition of the Viennese masters, not what your local community orchestra would play, not what most people think of when they think of classical music.

One misconception that many classical musicians seem to have about jazz is that since it has strong improvisatory elements, it must be very free and unstructured. I think the opposite is true: improvisation, at least in the mainstream-bebop/hard-bop-influenced style, requires fairly strict structural underpinnings. None of the following works well when someone is trying to improvise:

  • Free forms. Form in jazz is much stricter than in classical music. Most common jazz tunes have one of two forms. The first is precisely 32 bars in 4/4 time, with four eight-bar sections: AABA. The second is precisely twelve 4/4 bars, a “blues” form. Anything that doesn’t fit exactly into one of these categories is most likely very closely related to one of them.
  • Free harmony. Bebop and hard-bop jazz are extremely tonal. While improvisers may play pitches that fall “outside” the chords, it is almost always within a tonal framework: the notes function as upper extensions of the chords, or at least they are used in a sort of polychordal way that has reference to the underlying harmony and will ultimately resolve back to it. The idea that “there are no wrong notes” isn’t exactly true; notes can definitely sound very wrong if they aren’t properly contextualized with regard to the harmony.
  • Free or changing meter. Jazz makes frequent use of polymeter and syncopation, which can give the impression of shifting meter, but most jazz doesn’t actually change meters, especially in improvisatory sections. The polyrhythms and syncopations work because they are overlaid on an unchanging metric pulse, and resolve to it.
  • Rubato. Tempi also tend to quite strict in jazz playing. A musician might “lay back” in the beat or stretch a rhythm, but the underlying pulse doesn’t change. (In my experience, jazz players generally have much steadier internal metronomes than classical musicians.)
The freedom that improvisers do have is to create melodies over these fairly rigid structures. The rigidity gives the improviser a predictable framework to work with (or perhaps against). At a more detailed level, there are certain melodic characteristics that classical musicians tend to associate with jazz, that I don’t hear when I listen to jazz or play with fine jazz musicians:
  • Extensive triplet-based rhythms. The idea that eighth-note lines should be “tripletized,” played with a downbeat:upbeat ratio of 2:1, is popular but inadequate to the subtleties of swing. And when classically-trained composers attempt to incorporate jazz style into their music without really absorbing any jazz, they seem often to rely on lots of eighth-note triplets, to the extent that the music takes on a 12/8 feel. I don’t hear that sound very much in real, swinging jazz.
  • Staccato. Jazz style uses lots of squared-off note shapes, especially among the “horns” (in jazz, that’s any instrument you blow into). Short notes often end abruptly, without any taper, but they are almost never really short. Note lengths are vitally important to jazz style as a means of emphasis, and misuse of staccato often de-emphasizes the most important notes in a phrase. Phrases may be punctuated with silence, and may be quite brief, but movement from one note to another is almost always legato. Along the same lines: jazz bass players don’t play pizzicato in the same way that classical bassists do: their walking quarter-note lines feature fat, sustained notes, not fluffy, bouncy, separated ones.
  • Long slurs. Although the style is essentially legato, in “horn” playing the articulation is predominantly tongued, not slurred. Even with published jazz sheet music, jazz musicians routinely ignore long slurs or treat them as vague phrase markings. But when classical composers mistakenly write long slurs into passages that are intended to sound like jazz, classically-trained musicians will slavishly observe them, to the detriment of the intended style. The subtleties of which notes to tongue and which notes to slur are beyond the scope of this article, and something of an individual creative signature for many jazz musicians, but suffice it to say that slurs of three or more notes should be regarded with suspicion. (Trumpet player Clifford Brown is an oft-cited example of a jazz giant who consistently tongued virtually every note.)

If you are a classical composer or instrumentalist and want to incorporate genuine elements of jazz style into your music, please understand that there are no shortcuts, and jazz style isn’t something you can learn from a book (or a blog post, for that matter). But there are some excellent resources available to you:

  • Listen. Beef up your listening library with some real jazz, and get out to hear live jazz in your community. Expect to absorb the style over the course of a lifetime.
  • Ask. Most reasonably-sized American cities have highly skilled and highly underemployed jazz musicians. Get some lessons in style, in chord voicings, in improvisation. Ask lots of questions. Or buy a musician lunch and ask him or her to review your latest work and give you an honest evaluation of the jazz elements you have tried to include. Their responses may surprise you, for better or for worse.
  • Play. Find an opportunity to get involved in jazz, especially in an educational situation. Practice hard and get feedback.

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    The way I deal with these limits is very different depending on whether I’m performing or practicing.

    If I’m performing, I want to stay just within my limits. I want every note to be predictable and reliable. I want to take advantage of every bit of my dynamic range, but no more. I want to make wise, deliberate, professional-quality choices.

    If I’m practicing, I want to explore those limits. Push those limits. Live just beyond those limits. It’s important to do this for couple of reasons. First, if I don’t go past those limits, I won’t know where the limits are for my upcoming performance. Second, if I’m too afraid to go past the limits in the practice room, I’ll never expand them. And if something goes wrong—a note cracks or fails to speak or is out of tune—that’s okay, it’s just practice.

    Find your limits, know them well, and, in your practice space, break them.

  • How to write boring program notes

    Things to include in your program notes for maximum boredom:

    • More than a sentence (two, tops) of general biography on the composer.
    • Unremarkable facts about the piece’s structure (sonata form! key of F!).
    • A blow-by-blow description (first there is a kind of sad theme! it starts out low and soft but then it gets higher and louder!).
    • Unfounded judgments about the piece or composer (this is one of the greatest pieces in the repertoire! the composer is truly a genius!).
    • Explanation (excuses and/or bragging) about how difficult the piece is to play, or inside baseball about playing technique (this piece goes way up into the third octave! the performer has to use triple-tonguing in this one spot!).
    • Show-offy or obscure terminology, especially if it’s not part of your usual vocabulary and there’s a chance you are using it wrong.
    • Length greater than a slow reader can get through in the breaks between pieces.

    But if you prefer program notes that are less boring, I guess you could try these:

    • Stick mostly to biographical information that relates specifically to the piece being performed.
    • Stick mostly to language and content that is accessible to someone who is new to this kind of music and nervous that they won’t get it.
    • If you must describe the piece to your audience, imagine you are writing program notes for a movie instead. Don’t give away the ending or the celebrity cameos or the plot twist, and don’t give a scene-by-scene breakdown. Give just enough to pique their interest.
    • If the piece itself is likely to be challenging or inaccessible to your audience, give them a sense for what is interesting about it. (For example, explain in two or three simple sentences about 12-tone serialism or microtonality or minimalism.)

    If you’re a student writing program notes as an assignment, you might have to hit a certain target length, include specific information, cite sources, etc. If you’re a teacher assigning those things, consider that maybe what you really wanted was a book report or a theory paper instead.

    Generally, program notes should give an intelligent but not necessarily musically-trained audience a few things to help them enjoy the performance more, without feeling like homework. Be ruthless about trimming away anything that doesn’t contribute to that, and don’t be afraid of brevity.

  • |

    Q&A: The big picture

    Disclosure: As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases, at no cost to you.

    Here are some of the questions readers sent me in celebration of this blog’s 10-year anniversary. I have edited, combined, and otherwise adapted some of them but hopefully there are answers here for those of you who were kind enough to inquire.

    Why does music move humanity so profoundly?

    My personal belief is that music is divine in origin, and that there is something inherent to humankind that responds to music. Since I believe that everyone is a child of God, I suppose the love of music is a divinely-inherited trait. Leaders in my faith have said, for example, that “Music is given of God to further his purposes,” and observed “Music is truly the universal language, and when it is excellently expressed how deeply it moves our souls.”

    If that’s not your style, you may prefer Darwin’s speculation that the earliest attempts at human language were more like musical gestures than like words. An ability to relate to these sounds is at the foundation of language in the more modern sense, and thus underlies virtually all human experience and culture.

    In any case, even as a faith-plus-science kind of guy, I’m definitely out of my depth here, so feel free to share your theories in the comments.

    Are applied music studios in higher education sustainable considering the supply of music graduates exceeds available employment?

    There are issues here for sure. I can only vouch for my own approach:

    Most of my university students are music education majors, and where I live this does seem to be sustainable. My graduates for the most part are able to land and keep jobs doing what they are trained for: directing middle school and high school bands.

    Many of my students at some point inquire about the degree in performance. If they are interested in that route and have the skill to pursue it, we have a long talk about the career path of a performance major. Essentially, a bachelors degree in performance qualifies you for one thing, entry into an masters program. The masters qualifies you for a doctoral program, and that qualifies you to teach in higher education and perpetuate the cycle. We talk seriously about the prospects for employment in higher ed (slim).

    On the other hand, a college or university education isn’t a trade school certificate—it is meant to produce a well-rounded citizen of the world, with literacy in key fields of human thought and skills in areas like communication and critical thinking. If a prospective student wishes to study the art of musical performance for reasons that are not necessarily 100% practical, then I would like to see that opportunity available to them. Schools and students should be clear with each other about their goals, so there isn’t any confusion about, for example, guarantees of employment.

    Some of my students have leveraged some of the more general skills developed in their musical education to pursue careers in other fields, which I find to be a perfectly good outcome. There is also at least some anecdotal evidence that college music majors are welcomed by challenging, high-status programs like law and medical schools.

    When will woodwind makers deplete resources of grenadilla/mpingo wood?

    I don’t know the answer. My understanding is that these woods are not in danger of extinction, exactly. But the culling of the tallest, straightest specimens for products like oboes and clarinets has potential to cause an evolutionary bottleneck, since only trees that are unsuitable for instruments (because they are curvy, for example) are left alone to reproduce.

    I think that the inevitable conclusion to this is alternative materials for instruments. This will be a tough sell for some musicians, but will ultimately be for the better. If modern science can develop amazing new materials for everything from mobile phone technology to medicine to space travel, why not for music? I’m confident that the “wood”-wind instruments will continue to exist in materials that are more sustainable, stable, affordable, crack-free, ergonomic, and beautiful-sounding.

    Why does the principal oboist tune the orchestra?

    Tradition. We have methods of providing a reference pitch that are far more accurate and reliable than even the best oboist. But the ritual is a comfortable one.

    There are lots of additional theories. I’ve written previously about why a bunch of these don’t make sense, and that post continues to draw comments largely based on questionable understanding of “overtones.”


    Thanks for your questions! These are some tough ones.

    More 10-year anniversary Q&A

  • Seven habits of highly effective beginners

    Photo, Michael @ NW Lens

    A few weeks ago I wrote about seven habits I’ve observed in my most successful university music students. The popularity of that article has been gratifying—to my surprise, it even briefly displaced my list of woodwind doublings from Broadway shows as the most popular thing on this site.

    What I wrote was about university music students—students who, generally, have at least a half-dozen years of playing experience behind them, and who are planning to  pursue a career in music. But I think it’s also worth considering the musical beginner (child or adult). Students who get a good start with their instrument have a better chance at success, no matter their goals.

    Here are some habits that are characteristic of successful beginners, plus a bonus tip for woodwind doublers:

    1. Get a teacher. This is the best money you can spend or your (or your child’s) new musical pursuits. And the sooner the better—don’t assume that you need to struggle on your own for a while before a teacher will take you on as a student. A good teacher can guide you through purchasing or renting your instrument, teach you good playing and practicing habits, troubleshoot problems, and model excellent playing. And you may be able to get good instruction cheaper than you think. Contact a teacher of reputation in your area and find out what they charge, and, if it’s more than you can spend, ask if they can recommend one of their top students as a beginning teacher. I’m a university music professor, and I charge more than some beginners would be willing or able to pay, but I’m pleased to recommend my advanced students who are anxious for some teaching experience, who work cheap, and who will teach you the same things I’m teaching them.
    2. Get good advice on equipment purchases. See habit #1 for the best solution to this. Be extremely wary of advice from mail-order catalogs, internet message boards, eBay sellers, and commissioned music store salespeople who don’t play your instrument. My beginning woodwind students who start with inferior or poorly-adjusted gear often develop poor playing habits in an attempt to compensate for the instrument’s/mouthpiece’s/reeds’ shortcomings, and are far more likely to get frustrated and quit. You don’t need a fancy car to learn how to drive, but you do need working brakes, steering, and signal lights. Read More “Seven habits of highly effective beginners”
  • Jazz opportunities for woodwind players: learn the saxophone

    Jazz clarinetist (and saxophonist!) Eddie Daniels. Photo, Professor Bop

    I’ve been having a great time directing the university jazz band this year (alas, a temporary assignment). The group performed recently for some talented high school musicians from around the state, the kind of students I would like to recruit. After the performance, I was approached by no less than three of them, each expressing an interest in playing in the group in the future. None of them play instruments typical of jazz big band arrangements.

    I’ve had this happen with private students, too. I once met with a very young and enthusiastic clarinetist and her mother. They explained to me that the young clarinetist was being excluded from her middle school jazz band because she didn’t play a “jazz” instrument. Their plan was for her to study clarinet with me, and to get so good that the jazz band director would “just have to” accept her into the group.

    The clarinet, of course, does have a noble history in jazz music (even big bands), as does the flute, and, less frequently, the double reeds. And don’t get me wrong here—I love playing and listening to jazz on all those instruments, and would love to see every young woodwind player, regardless of instrument, get the chance to participate. But there are some practical barriers. Read More “Jazz opportunities for woodwind players: learn the saxophone”

  • 10 jazz albums that should be in every music lover’s collection

    Hello, music fans!

    Miles Davis: Kind of Blue
    You need this.

    I’ve picked out, for your listening pleasure, ten essential jazz albums, as an easy introduction to the wide world of jazz. You’re welcome.

    I’ll assume that you already love music. But maybe you’re a lifelong rocker. Or a connossieur of the great classical composers. Or maybe you like both kinds of music: country and western. No matter your taste, the jazz section of the record store can be a little bewildering.

    Let’s face it, the jazz world is a members-only club. We jazz fans love to lord our superior musical tastes over the uninitiated masses. You listen to whom? Kenny G?! I think I need to lie down.

    Plus, if you’re like me, your budget doesn’t quite allow for the latest comprehensive 40-disc boxed set from Verve or Columbia Records. Same thing goes for rare and valuable vinyl collector’s items.

    So, these ten albums have been carefully chosen to do a few things:

    • Introduce you to key jazz artists, styles, albums, and songs.
    • Keep the cost reasonable. These albums are all readily available and reasonably priced single compact discs (no expensive multidisc sets) or iTunes albums.
    • Preserve the dignity of the jazz tradition, by giving you the music in complete album format whenever possible. No samplers or compilations, except in a couple of cases where compilations are the only logical choice.
    • And, most importantly, add the pleasure and richness of the jazz world to your life!

    Let’s get going! We’ll do this in a sort of rough chronological order. Read More “10 jazz albums that should be in every music lover’s collection”

3 Comments

  1. I like this article a lot. When I was in school, I took both jazz and classical lessons. Both had much to offer, but in general, studying jazz taught me to be a better player, technically and harmonically. Classical taught me phrasing, lyricism and balance with others.

  2. Good stuff!

    On the structure thing, the analogy I like is of a conversation. We can get together and have a conversation about the weather because we have a common language, a set topic, and all have at least some knowledge about the subject. The conversation will be “improvised” in that it was not pre-planned, but it’s hardly random.

    Same thing when a group of jazz musicians get together and decide to play, say, “Autumn Leaves”. Non-musicians, and perhaps even musicians unfamiliar with jazz are often amazed that this can be done with no prior rehearsal. They can do that because there’s a common language (jazz), a set topic (the song, “Autumn Leaves”) and knowledge about the subject (i.e. they all know the song and its harmonic structure).

    The rendition of “Autumn Leaves” might be uptempo swing, a ballad, or even something out-of-the-ordinary, like a Latin rhythm. Just like the conversation about the weather might be academic, complaining about the recent lack of rain, or griping about the accuracy of the local weather man on TV.

  3. And yes, PLEASE do not play a triplet rhythm (or even a dotted eighth/sixteenth rhythm) and call that “swinging”. It’s definitely a feel. One you get from listening, and one you can not fake.

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