Vacation, and the upshot

Been ignoring this blog unintentionally, due to traveling back to Cleveland Ohio to attend a 70th birthday party for an aunt of mine. It was a bit of a cultural affair for Mrs. S and I, because in addition to meeting up with a bunch of family members we haven't seen in ten years or more, at the Indians v. Yankees on April 26, which the tribe won (yeah!), we went to visit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the Cleveland Museum of Natural History, the Cleveland Zoo, and the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra.

Enough has been written about the evolution of jazz and parallels (or lack thereof) between it and rock, and we all know the influence of blues on rock and jazz, so all I'll say about the RNRHOF is that anyone with even the smallest amount of musicality will find something of interest there. Of course, I was brought up on church music but quickly moved to focus on rock and popular music before finally catching the jazz bug, so I really enjoyed most of the exhibits. My favorites were the costumes: various from Madonna by Jean-Paul Gaultier, Mick Jagger's Voodoo Lounge Tour costume, and the leather bustier worn by Grace Slick at Woodstock. As Adrian, my friend from England so perspicaciously noted, however, "They won't let you smell Grace Slick's leather vest." Which is a shame.

At the Symphony, at a matinee performance on Friday morning (average age of attendees: 68, 71 not including me and Mrs. S), I had my first exposure to the music of Kodaly (Dances of Galanta), which was an unexpected treat. I daresay I enjoyed that even more than the Bartok. After hearing Leonard Bernstein lecture on Stravinsky and Bartok having influenced jazz, I listened closely to the Concerto for Orchestra of Bartok, and to be honest, I want to believe I heard some jazz elements, but I would be hard pressed to say what they were and point them out to other listeners. So rather than try to say what I'm supposed to say, I'll say what I felt: I like the modern (or "post-classical") composers better because they get more out of the modern-day orchestra. Mozart, Beethoven, Mahler, and that lot are all about dynamics: quietness, subdued tones, bright staccatos and long, breathy vibratos, then, stunning finales. Bartok, Berlioz, Smetana, et. al. like to blast you out of your seat by making every piece in the orchestra play something, usually together, so that the sound doesn't envelop you so much as smash into you. The effect is much more stimulating, and, for example, in a piece with which the listener is not familiar, like Kodaly, when the orchestra is on and at full bore, it's almost scary.

Because I lived in England for almost four years and New York for one, I've had ample opportunity to hear world class orchestras in the (somewhat distant) past. The effect was lost on my ignorance and inexperience, I'm afraid. Recently having attended two concerts of the Huntsville Symphony Orchestra, I thought I was ready for what the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra would present. And don't be confused, here. The Huntsville Symphony Orchestra is a fine orchestra. Professional, very capable, technically proficient. But the CSO is better. Much better. There is a crispness to their execution and a brilliance to their sound that the HSO lacks. Some of that could be attributed to the venues, where the HSO is spread across a relatively shallow stage at the Von Braun Center while the CSO is packed into a deep cavernous end of Severance Hall. I don't know. I think probably the CSO members have better, more dynamic instruments, and they have slightly better response and attack, and the conductor is slightly more experienced and aware, and once all that is put together, you just get a deeper, warmer, "better sounding" sound. I'll say again, nothing against the Huntsville Symphony Orchestra, but, there's a reason why the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra is considered world class and has dozens of recordings available and soloists/conductors travel halfway around the world to accompany/direct them, and one listen is all anyone would need to confirm their superiority.

Upon my return, after five days away from my piano. The rust was inevitable and heavy. I couldn't play anything. Trying a Parker head from Blues for Alice, I was lucky to play two bars error free. Plunking at a smattering of other blues like All Blues or Blue Monk, the results were no better. Flipping through the Real Book, I couldn't make Alice find wonderland, my prince never showed up, not even someday, I couldn't Take the 'A' Train, and I didn't like any of My Favorite Things. Hopeless. I played some soulless scales and went to bed. Last night, I shook off a little more of the dust and made one pass of Don't Get Around Much Anymore sound almost like a tune. I think I'm going to work hard on Blues for Alice tonight and try to get something out of that at tomorrow night's lesson. The trepidation for a sparse, unenthusiastic lesson is palpable.

But Cleveland deserved my attention, so I'll take the (very) good (enjoyable vacation) with the (not so) bad (temporary slide in musical ability).

Hector's "Barely O's" Jazz Club: Opening ... Never

Had the pleasure of attending the Huntsville Symphony Orchestra last night (March 15). It's something that for the price of late season fill-in tickets ($20), I find quite enjoyable. When I went last month (OK, tix were 2 for $40), pianist Yakov Kasman playing Rachmaninoff was the big attraction, so I didn't go there for any other reason than to listen and enjoy the music. Last night, being vaguely familiar with Bartok (the first session), Ravel (also the first session), and better than vaguely familiar with Berlioz (the second session, Symphonie Fantastique), I attended the concert, first, to enjoy the music, and second, to find some kernel of linkage to jazz music which I could apply to my music. And while I know from my introduction to music course in college that all western music shares similar roots and structures due to being based on the diatonic and chromatic scales, other than an occasional distracting dissonance put in (what I thought were) obvious places specifically to upset the emotions of the listener (don't forget: we're hanging a guy in the fourth movement), I don't think I learned much about jazz last night. This morning, I spent some time thinking about it more, going over the notes, both literal and allegorical, and really, I can't come up with anything. I don't know. For me, having been brought up listening to a lot of choral and liturgical works, then pops, and much later a steady diet of classical work, all eventually leading me to jazz, personally, I find jazz just too different from other types of music. Don't get me wrong. I'm sure it's not all that different. Just for me, at this stage in my learning about jazz, I only learn about jazz when I'm playing, listening, thinking, or talking about jazz.

I read somewhere that when learning jazz, one should listen to only jazz, and listen to it continuously. And, in my zealousness to become a jazz musician, I followed that for a time. Now, I disagree with that. I think, if anything, jazz benefits from having modern and classical influences, pop and traditional influences, and finding those influences is easier if one is listening to a broad range of music with an open mind, looking for applications, variations, and "cross pollination".

But I'm still a big Berlioz fan. One can't help but wonder what the audience thought back when this symphony was first performed and the oboe player stood up, walked off stage, and then, began the third movement, the oboe echoing in the distance, being answered by the rest of the orchestra. It's echoes (sorry) of an avant garde musician in the jazz tradition, so I guess I can take that as my kernel. Nonetheless, Hector is no longer with us, though I'm sure he's jamming somewhere, just not here. The Barely O's jazz club is not to be.