How long does it take me to learn a song? (Part one)

So, I decided to expose myself. Not that way. I'm going to record myself learning to play a song. It won't be easy, but it might just be some motivation for me to not take forever and a day to learn a simple tune. Today, March 30, is day one. Here's a video of me having a look at The Jitterbug Waltz, by Thomas "Fats" Waller. Turn up your sound, because my video shooting is even worse than my piano playing.

Like I said, we've got a long way to go.

Francoise Sagan, Frank Zappa, Bart Simpson, and other great philosophers' quotes on jazz

Here's a rehash of my October 28, 2009 blog entry. It's worth putting up again, I think.

It bugs me when people try to analyze jazz as an intellectual theorem. It's not. It's feeling. ~Bill Evans

…cartoons [are] America's only native art form. I don't count jazz because it sucks. ~Bart Simpson

Bart Simpson

No America, no jazz. I've seen people try to connect it to other countries, for instance to Africa, but it doesn't have a damn thing to do with Africa. ~Art Blakey

One thing I like about jazz, kid, is you don't know what's going to happen next. Do you? ~Bix Beiderbecke

For me, music and life are all about style. ~Miles Davis

If you have to ask what jazz is, you'll never know. ~Louis Armstrong

If you can't play the blues, you might as well hang it up. ~Dexter Gordon

Jazz is not dead – it just smells funny. ~Frank Zappa

Frank Zappa

I think I was supposed to play jazz. ~Herbie Hancock

The memory of things gone is important to a jazz musician. ~Louis Armstrong

Life is a lot like jazz – it's best when you improvise. ~George Gershwin

Those jazz guys are just makin' that stuff up! ~Homer Simpson

Jazz and love are the hardest things to describe from rationale. ~Mel Torme

Jazz is an intensified feeling of nonchalance. ~Francoise Sagan

Francoise Sagan

There is no such thing as a wrong note. ~Art Tatum

If you find a note tonight that sounds good, play the same damn note every night. ~Count Basie

Anyone who understands jazz knows that you can't understand it. It's too complicated. That's what's so simple about it. ~Yogi Berra

Men have died for this music. You can't get more serious than that. ~Dizzy Gillespie

Kyle Eastwood's First Trip to Alabama

Serious fans of Clint Eastwood, and probably a good many not so serious fans of Clint, know what a jazz fanatic he is. They know he frequents jazz clubs, has an extensive rare jazz record collection, has directed movies about jazz, and just generally has been a supporter of America’s music. Less well known is that he has a son, Kyle Eastwood, who is an accomplished jazz bassist, composer, and performer in his own right. With the benefit of Sirius XM radio, I have known about Mr. Kyle Eastwood for some time, and though I've always enjoyed his music, I wouldn't say I was a fan or follower of his. Nonetheless, when I found out the famous movie star’s son who calls Paris home would be in Alabama to give a concert, and there was an opportunity for a meet and greet for VIP ticket holders, I thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to try to take in the concert. Unfortunately, I had an off-shift 4:30 AM meeting scheduled for the morning after the concert, so I was not sure expending the energy and effort was a worthwhile pursuit, but after Mrs. S saw a couple promotional picks of the good looking Kyle, she started pushing. I decided to at least call around and find out what I could about getting tickets.

Having a nice chat while I make Mr. Eastwood do some work.

So first, I called local chamber of commerce sponsoring the event. They had no idea about the VIP package and thought the tickets were $175 each. They directed me to the tourism board who also had no clue about the VIP package. They did, however, know the promoter (lady) who set up the concert. Turns out she knew Morgan Freeman, Morgan Freeman knew Clint Eastwood, and Clint knew his son (obviously). Anyway, she was able to give me the lowdown on the tickets, and through a stroke of good fortune, she was eating at a restaurant only ten minutes from my house the following night, saving me a two hour round trip drive just to go and buy the tickets. We were set for our next star musician meet and greet.

Eric, Kyle, and Mrs. S. Why they made him stand in front of a garage door for the photo op is completely beyond me. For the retouched version with a nice background, visit Mrs. S's Facebook page.

Juggling my schedule, we were able to make the one-hour drive late on Wednesday afternoon and enjoyed a sushi dinner near where the concert was being held, on the campus of the University of North Alabama. We arrived at the auditorium early enough to be ninth and tenth in the line, but still had to wait around for 30 minutes while everything got organized. Kyle is a very cool guy. I was the only one who brought CD’s (3) to have signed, and he was quite surprised. (“Wow. You've got a lot.”) We chatted about how his blue shirt matched my tie, and I thanked him profusely for making the trip to Alabama. He was very personable and pleasant.

Kyle Eastwood in concert. (Photo © Mrs. S)

The concert had one very good country western opening act (duo), then a blues trio that was excellent. They played way too long, though, as no one was really there to hear blues and a little blues guitar (E-A-E-B-A-E, etc. etc. etc.) goes a long way. Then came a four man jazz trio, and they played a great version of “Blue Bossa” and the piano player, Harvey Thomspon, satisfied the crowd with a nice rendition of “Last Date”, among their four tunes. Then came Kyle.

One of the worst and one of the best piano players in north Alabama, me and Harvey Thompson.

He has a great band, with two horn players, piano, drums, and him on bass. He also played all his good songs, mostly the opening tracks from his last three albums. He was extremely talented and capable. He didn't show up at the after party and nothing at the after party was included with the ticket, so that was a bust. We drove the hour and ten minute drive home and got to bed by 1AM, and two hours and forty minutes later, I woke up to go to work. Was it worth it? Sure it was, but I’m getting too old for this. Making arrangements for and getting to and from these spur of the moment concerts will be much easier when I’m retired. I look forward to my next career as a jazz musician and music writer.

Some encouragement from a famous concert pianist and international recording star

Last week, Mrs. S suggested I accompany her to the Huntsville Chamber Music Guild’s penultimate concert of the year, featuring pianist Emanuel Ax. Interestingly enough, I had never heard of the guy until a few weeks before, when Mrs. S was telling me about Indiana University’s Jacobs School of Music having over 200 Steinway grand pianos. I didn't think that was possible, so I did what any normal person would do. I Googled it. It turned out to be true, but then I thought, well, if Jacobs has that many, I wonder how many Juilliard has. Turns out they have over 250 Steinway grands (and 6 full time piano technicians). While “researching” that, I happened to glance at the Juilliard piano faculty listing, and that’s where I saw Emanuel Ax’s name. So, when the missus invited me to his concert, I was in.

The concert was quite good. As you would expect of an old Polish guy, he played a lot of old Euopean (German) music:  Brahms, Schubert, Schumann, but also some modern pieces, including a suite of pieces written to be played in between some Brahms pieces. He was signing CD’s after the concert, and Mrs. S, who is usually replete with the concert star’s CD’s in the event there is an autograph session was fresh out of Emanuel Ax CD’s. (Most of the ones she had were concertos with Yo Yo Ma, anyway, so he might not have been so thrilled to sign those in the first place.) 

Grammy winner Emanuel Ax signs a pair of CDs for me.

So we bought two CD’s to have signed. Mr. Ax was very pleasant and cordial. When I asked for a photo because I am a budding pianist, he said, “Oh, sure! Of course. That’s great. That’s great.” We took the photo and I shook his hand, and even with a line of people still behind me and my shared moment with him over, he took the time to add, “You should continue to pursue the piano by all means and I wish you well!” 

Would you take advice from this man? Of course you would! 

I’m pretty sure I've never heard any such words of encouragement that were more sincere. The look in his eyes was unwavering and clear: Playing the piano is a thing worth doing. You may think you are old and you may have a long way to go, but you should do it, … by all means.

Thank you very much Mr. Ax. I think I will.

Take your brain back thirty years

Here’s an updated review of a book I skimmed through a few years back and have since revisited and read cover-to-cover in the last month.

Although The 101 Best Jazz Albums is getting quite long in tooth, I still found it to be one of the most useful and interesting looks at jazz records, possibly second only to Penguin Guide to Jazz Recordings. (Or maybe third after Leonard Feather’s Encyclopedia of jazz, although that, too, is getting quite dated and as an "encyclopedia", is not a "sit down and read" type of book.) Still, as a study of jazz and jazz recordings, 101 Best has a lot of value and impact, in part because it was written so long ago, before CD’s and way before MP3’s, iTunes, and the digital music era. So, when Mr. Lyons says something like, “This was a great recording that, sadly, (some record company) has decided to take out of its catalog”, the reader can discount such comments and although one maybe can’t assume it’s available somewhere, you can still fire up Google and maybe track down a vinyl, or even digital, copy. So, if you’re using this book as a buying guide, it becomes a little tricky, but if you’re using this just to learn about the history of jazz through records, this book is unparalleled.

The author breaks the book down chronologically, but as most historians and jazz fans will know, dividing up jazz chronologically leads to easy divisions of the kind of jazz being talked about. So, in Mr. Lyons’s telling you end up with (roughly) Pre-1920: Ragtime, Dixieland; 1920’s: swing; 1930’s: big band, dance; 1940’s: swing to be-bop; 1950’s: bop and post-bop; 1960’s: modal; 1970’s: fusion; later than that: free jazz. Again, roughly. In addition to the 101 albums cited in the book, Mr. Lyons makes mention of many other albums that were recorded, either as precursors to the ones mentioned in the text, or as follow ups. He is careful, also, to provide some reflection and analysis on the impact the recordings had on the artists’ careers and their overall outlook on jazz. There are black and white graphics of the albums that are called out, and there’s a section of black and white photos of some of the more famous musicians during their more “impactful” sessions. (Serious jazz fans will have seen most of these photos before.) Sometimes the author allows himself to get a little subjective, and there were a few (just a few) times where he made what I thought were rather personal statements and comments that really had no place in discussion of the recording or were just plain wrong. But everyone is entitled to his or her opinion, and this is Mr. Lyons’ book, so I’m willing to look past that and move on to the next discussion. (Plus it was fun to read what the author thought about, for example, Miles Davis’ hiatus and what sort of music Miles might break into in the twilight of his career – before he died, of course.)

I like this book for how it ties the history of jazz to the recordings that were made over the years, and I like how it weaves together the recordings, players, studios and producers to give an overall tapestry of the business of jazz recordings from its inception to the modern day (in the late 1970’s, mind you). It provides lots of ideas and suggestions for adding to one’s jazz music collection, and for fans of specific genres of jazz, it provides a lot of ideas for introduction of, study of, and listening to genres with which the reader might not be so familiar. For whatever reason you choose to read this book, it’s a clear and open window to some interesting jazz history, so even in its dotage, I give it five stars. (If this were my Amazon review...)

Another broken piano story: Part 2

After the disassembling: The reassembling, the re-disassembling, the repair, and the re-reassembling.

The would-be piano technician, hard at work. Note how the camo pants make my legs blend into the area rug. (Fun side note: Everyone who lives in Alabama is required to have at least one pair of camouflage pants. Just letting you know in case you want to live here one day.)

The worst part about this whole piano repair project was the screws. The would-be piano technician is required to remove 82 screws to get inside the piano: four to remove the stand, six to remove the stand brace, and 72 (!) to remove the top of the piano from the bottom. Because I’m taking lessons, and I like to play the piano, and I don’t really have anything else to do with my evenings, and because my piano actually had functioning keys and sounds without the broken MIDI/sustain pedal board, after removing the broken parts, but before the replacement parts arrived, I reassembled my piano. So when the replacement part came, I also got the distinct pleasure (?) of re-disassembling my piano. 82 screws out again.

Not good.

82 screws loose. You can count them if you like.

Thankfully, with three of the four fastening points for the broken board still intact, I figured super glue should be more than enough to reattach the fourth fastening point. It was. Then all I had to do was figure out how the board connects, make sure it was connected, screw it down to the frame, then put back those 82 goddamn screws.

Where the board goes. Note the three holes at the top, the three posts (with silver screws) still good and the one missing post, and most of all, note the mangled white plastic connector on the left side of the board at right. That's going to be the make-or-break of this repair project.

It turns out, that the connector end of the board just inserts into the connector on the mother board, just as you would expect. You just slide down the plastic cover, make sure the wires are straight, and insert the end. It went in smoothly and fit snugly. I then put the broken bit of the plastic connector in and pushed it down so it secured the wires to the contacts. It worked like a charm. At least, it seemed to be everything it needed to be, but I wouldn't know for sure until I plugged it in and tried it out. I put a little electrical tape around the connector, just to hold it a little better.

The DJack board, installed. I hope this works.

Then, back in with the 82 screws.

I plugged in the piano, plugged in the sustain pedal, turned on the piano, stepped on the pedal and hit a C-Major-7 chord with both hands. I lifted my hands and, ... voila! The sustained sound of a full all-white-key jazz chord continued to fill the room. I successfully repaired my digital piano, by myself, without a service manual.

Not good. FREAKING GREAT!

I’m not sure how to test MIDI connectivity, however, as I had only ever gotten to the point of playing my keyboard from the computer and during other operations, I wouldn't know if I was doing something wrong, the cable was doing something wrong, or the replaced board was not connected correctly. (I almost typed “corrected connectly”, which I think aptly indicates my level of trepidation.) Still, if the sustain pedal works – and it does – then that must mean the board is connected correctly. And if the board is connected correctly, there’s no reason why MIDI shouldn't work. And, if MIDI doesn't work, well, at least I've got a usable piano (although I’ll have to get something additional to compose with on my computer).

I’m practically a piano technician, but now, I can actually practice on a fully functional piano, so that’s what I’m off to do.

Another broken piano story

About a week ago, on the day after my normal Tuesday lesson, I was working on some Bach two-part inventions, and it wasn't going well. I could feel myself getting depressed, then frustrated. I decided to switch to some Oscar Peterson etudes, as they were less strenuous and could keep my attention better. For whatever reason, however, I was unable to play them either. Even with the easier pieces, it was like I had never seen them before. To quell my growing frustration but to keep sitting at and practicing the piano, I decided to just work scales and arpeggios, but even such simple exercises proved to be unmanageable. Nothing was going right. I kept taking deep breaths and starting over, but for whatever reason, I couldn't play more than a few notes before my fingers turned to cabbage and wilted haphazardly all over the keyboard.  I thought maybe a break would help, and to expel some energy, without thinking much about it, I just stood up as quickly as I could. Normally, my piano bench would slide backward on my chair mat, but this time, one leg caught in front of the mat, forcing the front of my thighs to hit my piano. Before I even knew exactly what was happening, my piano was toppling over right before my eyes. It crashed down on top of the light and music stand, right into the floor.

Not good.

The inside of a Yamaha P-70 digital piano

I recomposed myself and stood my piano back up. Everything looked okay and the keys still played. There wasn't even any noticeable damage to the light (a floor standing model), or the music stand (poly-carbonate attached to the piano). I looked at the back of the piano and noticed that the sustain pedal was still plugged in but seemed to be hanging loose. I pulled it out of the jack and watched the jack slip down into the piano. The two MIDI connectors right next to it were still connected, but they were loosely hanging too, and I could tell I wasn't going to be able to plug the pedal jack back in. I figured I would have to stabilize the jack from inside the piano, meaning I’d have to open it up, meaning I’d have to separate the outside parts of the piano from the inside parts of the piano, so, I pulled the MIDI plugs. The card and connectors dropped completely out of sight.

Not good.

The next morning, I set about disassembling the piano. Usually, on an electronic device like this, there are a set number of screws that hold the frame to the insides, with the remainder of the screws holding things to the frame. Not on a Yamaha digital piano, though. Every screw is holding the frame against the piano guts. I removed them all and was finally able to open the piano. I immediately spotted the jack board, still connected but floating free. Underneath it, some plastic bits that obviously held it in place were broken. I’d have to come up with a way to stabilize it. I wanted to see if connecting the sustain pedal made it actually work again, but when I moved the jack board, I noticed a corner of it had chipped off. I fished around and found the corner and it had little bits of metal and circuitry on it. It was obvious that the two MIDI connectors and sustain pedal jack, all located so close to each other, had jammed into the jack board when the floor forced them up inside the piano. It was that force that caused the board to shear and crack, separating it from the piano and frame and damaging the circuitry.

Definitely not good.

The results of my piano falling over: a shattered DJack board and a broken mounting post (far left)

So, obviously, that board would have to be replaced. I attempted to remove it and only succeeded in chipping bits of the connector with my needle nose pliers. I pulled on the connector cord itself and extracted it, finally, though I’m still not sure if I extracted it from the connector, the connector solder, or the board itself. (We’ll find out when we connect the replacement part.) Upon further examination, there were lots of little broken pieces, so I took them all out and placed them in a bag for safekeeping. I won’t go into details of ordering the part from Yamaha. Suffice to say, they’re used to dealing with dealers and not random guys who are unafraid of opening their seven year old digital piano because they lived through a square grand piano conversion. I managed to get the part ordered and on the way – with free shipping no less – even with the surly, impatient, “sigh, my life sucks” SOB phone operator.

Not bad.

The replacement part, fresh out of the bubble wrap 

The lingering question is: Can I really fix my piano just by replacing a $77 jack board or will I have to fork over $1K for a decent replacement piano prior to obtaining my grand? We’ll soon find out.