Piano renovation stops for actual practice (sorry - had to happen sooner or later)

There are no days to add to the piano work. My mid-term exam in jazz improv was Monday night (more on that later), and I had to study. “Study” in this case means “practice”, as we had to be able to play three different musical patterns in any of six modes in any of 12 keys. (Yep, that’s 216 different combinations, for those of you keeping track.) We also had to be able to play a ii-V-I cadence in all twelve keys, plus we had to be able to play and solo over two tunes (Miles Davis’ “Tune Up” and Joe Henderson’s “Recorda-Me”). So, I didn’t have any time for working on the piano.

I had to be playing.

During the week, I pretty much had the tunes and 2-5-1 cadences worked out. What was killing me was the modes and keys and patterns. I developed an Excel worksheet with a random number generator so that I would be forced to work through the different patterns and modes and keys in an unpredictable sequence, which would hopefully help my retention and force me to think things through. Here’s the sheet:

Then I figured if I played through a completely randomized sheet two or three times, I’d have it pretty much covered. In working on the cadences and tunes and solos, however, I found myself lacking enough time to work through all the modes and patterns. In fact, working out solos in the correct keys for the tunes took up a lot of time, as did practicing them to the point of confidence. But working on the modes and patterns was also very difficult. Most of my problem had to do with my weak grasp of the major keys in general. A lot had to do with trying to play rootless voicing chords in the mix, which sometimes confused me, and some of it had to do with because I don’t know the key well, I had to work on the patterns repeatedly and slowly, taking way too much time. I mean, if one pattern took just one minute, I could be done in, what, 216 minutes. That’s three-and-a-half hours. True, some took just one minute, but some took two or three, some five (occasionally). In short, I only made it about three-quarters of that way through them all, and only once.

Not good. (It’s going to be even tougher during the rest of the semester, as we move to the minor keys right after our exam.)

I’m not worried about my mid-term, though. First of all, I did practice, hard, until my butt was sore. Second, it’s just music. Third, with only three students, I don’t have much to prove or much “competition”, so to speak. Even if I’m worst, I’m like the US field hockey team in 1932 – I’ll get the bronze medal because there’s only three contestants.

So, my piano project drags on as my jazz immersion goes slowly forward. It’s a trade I was forced to make, but I think I can make up for some of that by working weeknights this week. (Columbus Day screws up my movie schedule with Netflix.)

Post class update: Unbelievably, and tragically, my instructor’s father passed away last night. Class was cancelled. No mid-term test for at least another week. It is as likely as not that I will lose a good portion of next weekend to my second round of last minute practicing. Sometimes, life sucks, but never as much as death.

Final comment: I really, really want the piano to be finished. I promise. It’s going to get done and soon, one way or another.

And by the way, now I’m a conductor

Here’s a little more about the “concert” where my 17-piece jazz arrangement was played.

Since I showed up first and most of the band had arrived and was ready to play, we decided to go ahead and start with my piece. The piano player hadn’t showed up, so my instructor asked me if I wanted to play on my piece. Simple fact of the matter was, I had spent so much time working on my arrangement, that I hadn’t played the piano in nearly two weeks, other than occasional relaxing plunking and a few notes here and there to work out arrangement parts. So, my instructor agreed to play the piano. The big band instructor asked if I wanted to conduct, but I told him I didn’t know how. It turned out, however, that the bass trombone player also hadn’t showed up and I needed the bass trombone, mainly for the foghorn accent sounds. So he said he would play, and I had no choice but to conduct. The instructor said, “Don’t worry. This band won’t look at you anyway.” So I explained the intricacies (?) of my piece, counted off, and away we went. It went surprisingly well. After we had played my piece twice, I gathered up the scores and sat down, but then the guitar player, who had to play on his piece and had also written piano and bass trombone parts, said, “We need you to conduct again.” Fortunately, I knew the piece pretty well from our in-class review, so I counted and pointed and away we went. Then we decided to read one of the instructor’s recently completed pieces, and of course, he wrote a fancy trombone part for himself, so I got to conduct his piece sight unseen. The first time through, he stood up and gave a few cues, but the second time through, when it came time for the cues, he was looking at me expectantly, so I gave them.

Really, it was no big deal, but at least now, I can say I have conducting experience without telling a lie.

Another realization on the road to understanding jazz

For those who have been reading this blog for more than a year, you are probably aware that I graduated from college a mere three years ago this May. I’m proud to say that at the tender age of 43, after achieving credits at 6 different colleges over a period of 26 years, I obtained my BSBA degree. Quite an accomplishment, if I do say so myself. I would say, however, that as hard as I worked, with as many solo and team projects, assignments, papers, etc. that we had to complete, no single project that I undertook toward my degree required as much time and hard work as the project I just completed for my jazz arranging class: a seventeen piece arrangement of Bill Evans’ “Peri’s Scope” with a lick from Thelonious Monk’s “In Walked Bud” thrown in for good measure (or eight good measures).

To complete the 150 bars or so, I estimate that I spent somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty hours. It required complete reworking of the saxophone soli – twenty four bars of five parts. It required at least five hours just learning the software (Finale) to compose. It required two critiquing sessions with my instructor and classmates (three if you count the one for the soli). It even took about forty-five minutes just to print out the parts, make adjustments, reprint them, etc. etc. Then yesterday evening, the big band sight read it, got some tips and insight from me (not much), then played it through once more.

Finished.

All that said, I really enjoyed it. As much work as it was, the feelings of accomplishment and completion were just exhilarating, and it makes me feel good that I can get back to my regular, non-scholastic life. First order of business is to buy myself some jazz CD’s and get all my music that’s been laying about organized. In order to do that, I’ll have to find some shelves to put it on.

And I’m looking forward to keeping up with this blog once again.

How I spend my Sundays (non-Super Bowl weekends)

7:00 Wake up
7:01 Play stupid games on Facebook
7:17 Go out and get the newspaper off the sidewalk
7:18 Start cooking breakfast
7:30 Start eating breakfast
8:00 Work on the Sudoku-Triple puzzle
8:30 Make another cup of brandy tea
8:40 Play stupid games on Facebook
8:45 Write blog posting
9:15 Bury three buckets of fruit and vegetable matter in the compost pile
9:30 Start working on jazz arranging homework
10:20 Shower
10:30 Work on jazz arranging homework some more
11:20 Play stupid games on Facebook
12:00 Lunch
12:30 Read a book, nap, read, nap, repeat
14:00 Jazz arranging homework
15:30 Play the piano
16:00 Start cooking dinner, listening to jazz
17:00 Dinner
18:00 Watch a movie
20:00 Chill out
22:00 Watch the news
22:12 Read ten pages of a motivational book
22:30 Try to sleep
1:45 (Monday) Finally fall asleep
2:15 Dream of pretty Japanese girls having drinks with me in a jazz club (if I’m lucky)

My hypothesis about jazz theory

Although my failing and unfortunate efforts to improve my ears have been well documented in this space, I feel it is time to look on the bright side. Namely, my jazz theory course appears that it is going to have a profound effect on my ability to understand jazz. Although we've only had two classes, I have one clear example.

Last week we covered the modes of the scale. Now, I learned about these from my piano instructor in something like my third lesson, but I never much paid attention to them, because I didn't really understand how they were (or could be) applied. It all just seemed a lot of excessive, unapproachable, forced idiom and jargon meant to discourage the uninitiated. Which in fact, it is. I mean, the chances are really good you'll never hear a jazz musician go, "Okay, man, this is A-flat mixolydian, so let that sax solo rip!" Musicians, and especially jazz musicians are supposed to infer what notes will work and what notes won't when they hear the tune. How uncool it would be to have to actually analyze jazz before you could play it, right?

But how much easier it is if you can decipher the tune and know in your own brain that A-flat mixolydian is correct and B-flat Ionian or whatever is not, because then if you know what A-flat mixolydian is, you automatically know what notes to play.

And the 1-3-5-7 notes of the mode define the ii-V-I progression, and so, if you know the mode you know the notes, and if you know the notes you know the chords, and if you know the chords you can play a song, any song, correctly, and guess what? You're suddenly a real jazz musician! So now I'm in the process of forcing myself to learn all the modes more or less by heart, or to at least be able to figure them out in a couple of seconds so I can use them on tunes right away. I completed our class homework assignment, but that wasn't enough practice, so I developed my own chart for going through and learning the modes. I can just pick one, write it out, cross it off, then pick another, and so on, until I've gone through them all, then I can start all over again. It shouldn't take too long to program them in my brain.

Here's the chart I made, with the modes and keys altering in different patterns around the circle of fifths:


So my hypothesis about jazz theory is simply: jazz is a mental music made easier by doing the mental work and understanding the theory behind it. It is possible to be a phenomenal jazz musician without grasping the theory, but I estimate you can take one or two years off the time it takes to become virtuoso, just by taking a jazz theory course. Someday, I may even turn out to be the proof of my hypothesis.

When your ears abandon you

Here are ten things to do when you are practicing your ear training and you become completely unable to identify anything that isn't an octave or a tri-tone. (Believe me, it happens to me, ... a lot!)

1) Have a glass of wine
2) Listen to some music
3) Play a couple of hands of poker online
4) Have another glass of wine
5) Log into Facebook and check up on your Mafia Wars character and see if you have enough energy to do a job in Cuba or not
6) Play with your cat (here's one of the two I'm apt to play with)



7) Have another glass of wine
8) F....o....c....u....s.....
9) Cry, throw a tantrum and bash your keyboard against your computer tower
10) Switch to whiskey

Here are the expected results of each action, based on what happened when I tried each of them during a recent ear training session

1) Feel a little better, still can't hear crap
2) Feel a little better, wish hearing intervals was as easy as listening to Bill Evans
3) Feel better if I win, skip to #9 in above list if I lose
4) Feel even a little better, begin thinking interval training is a waste of time
5) No, it's only been fifteen minutes and you still can't do anything in Mafia Wars yet
6) Causes me to think about ears, but nothing really constructive
7) Alcohol doesn't improve anything, including my hearing, but at least I don't give a damn
8) Continue to be wrong only now with much more intensity
9) Causes some minor excitement in the house, but could be a potentially expensive and seriously regretful activity (I was lucky nothing broke this time)
10) No longer able to see the computer screen, I only hear ocean sound in my ears, and anyway, I can't click a mouse accurately enough to continue (it was bedtime anyway)

For those who missed the comments in my previous entry, I am training my ears using the fine free application available at Good-ear. And for the record, none of the above was good-ear's fault. I just suck at identifying notes with my ears, and that's that. Maybe someday I'll be able to report progress, but I've been down this frustrating road before and I recommend my readers not hold their breath for that (undoubtedly) joyous day.

Blind and dumb in both ears

I always loved that episode of The Little Rascals where Buckwheat, who can't believe what he's seeing, exclaims: "I thought I was deaf and dumb in both eyes!" That's how I felt Monday night in jazz theory class - blind and dumb in both ears - as the three music majors, the music graduate student, and me tried to determine intervals just by listening. It seemed everybody could do it, except me. Same for naming the intervals of chords, types of chords, everything. It is true that I do know and understand my chords, and I actually hear them pretty well too, but when it comes time to actually name the chords in their proper, non-enharmonic form, I struggle a bit.

Then again, that's what I took this course for. That's where I'm weak. That's where I need to improve, where I need to be stronger. Get the technical stuff down, hopefully the music will follow.

Really, I don't see how a jazz theory course would not help me, if for no other reason than I have to write, listen, read, and think about music, purely in an intellectual fashion. It forces me to spend time on music. I have music homework. Application follows but is irrelevant, at least for the time being. It's bound to have a positive effect.

My presence on Facebook will be scarce for the next thirteen weeks. I'm going to be sitting at the piano playing various exercises, sitting at the computer doing ear training, and sitting at the sunroom table writing out chords and intervals.

Back against the wall

A while back, shortly after I joined the big band, I made the comment that I thought playing in the big band would balance well with playing in the jazz combo because I wouldn't have to work as hard in the big band as I do in the combo.

Well, I think I was wrong.

We are preparing for our April 17 concert, and we have a singer who does jazz workshops coming in to sing with us, Kathy Kosins. We will be doing two songs with her, plus an undetermined number of other songs, possibly including two Count Basie songs arranged by Neil Hefti. Long and short: there are critical piano parts in each of the Basie songs, and plenty of solo licks in the two vocalist songs, and it is very hard to practice the songs outside of the band because there is nothing for the piano to do when the singer is singing and the brass is blowing. I've taken to recording bits of our practice sessions to play back and play along with, but that hasn't gone so well (yet). Fortunately, I have the Atomic Basie CD, so I can play along with the two Hefti tunes. I also bought two of Ms. Kosins CD's (which haven't arrived at my house yet), one of which has one of the songs were doing with her on it, so hopefully, I'll be able to learn and swing those four tunes, plus our boogaloo tune which everyone is intent on doing (except me).

As if that weren't enough, our combo director wants us to work on Cherokee, which is a very difficult tune (for me) to play, and one I've given up on several times but now will not be permitted to give up on. Our drummer threw Keith Jarrett's The Magician in You into the mix, and I, unthinkingly, threw Falling Grace in (which I can play serviceably enough). And, last week when we practiced without our director, we came to the conclusion that I would be responsible for leading our group into and out of the endings of all our songs, a responsibility that I will not shirk, because I do believe the piano is "the key" to that part of the song, but it is something I'm not very experienced with and will have to work hard on.

So, even if I only do, say, fifteen minutes a day per tune, that's almost two hours, and that isn't that much practice when learning tunes. That's also more time than I have available to practice. Suffice to say, my back is now against the wall, and the only thing that can save me is focusing on these tunes in my private lessons and practicing my butt off every weekend and during spring break.

I asked for it, I got it.

Big band begins

This week I had my first practice with a big band. Due to lack of a second piano player, I was asked to join the second big band group, and even though it means I'll have to get up at 4:30 twice a week so I can leave work early to make the 4:00 start time, I was anxious for the experience and agreed to join.

It appears that the band will have 14 members, but we are hoping to add a tenor sax, so it might end up being more. The director gave me three pieces of music right after I sat down at the piano. One was an original song and arrangement, one was an arrangement of "My Funny Valentine", and the other was some kind of boogaloo piece. After a brief introduction of myself and two other new members, we jumped right into the two numbers, since we are preparing both of them for a Valentine's concert on February 11.

I have to say, I'm a bit amazed at how little I really have to do. Comping chords - if they aren't too complicated - is one of the few things (I think) I do reasonably well, and so I did that, straight up in both hands through the first song (the name of which eludes me). I started to embellish a little bit, but it occurred to me that if there was something I was expected to play, it would be shown on the piano part given me, and since there wasn't anything there, I stopped doing that. (I talked to the director afterwards, and he said, "Yep. Just play what's there." Okey-doke. Vanilla it is!) There was a lot of sitting through repeated sections of songs as the trombones "try it", then the saxes, then the trumpets, then all together, then add the rhythm section, but really, I kind of like that pace. It's especially nice to play in that environment knowing that I will also be playing in the same combo this semester that I played in last semester, a class where the pace will be a lot more brisk and the demands on my skills and speed will be a lot higher - which is the essence of playing in a smaller group. But enough about the combo...

After about fifty minutes on that one song, we worked on "My Funny Valentine" which starts with a slow (really slow, quarter note = 56) six-bar piano solo. Honestly, I couldn't play it that slow. It was impossible. I kept wanting to swing it and take off. I'm going to have to get my drum machine out, turn it down (if it goes that low), and pound those slow bars into my brain. I'll need to get my piano instructor to suggest some interesting chords to comp with so I'm not just playing straight up during my debut big band solo. We only really had about fifteen or twenty minutes to work on that, so practice seemed like it was over before it even began. I felt relieved, and happy, though.

So, now I'm playing in two groups, one at a leisurely, comfortable pace, the other at whatever pace we are going that day. It promises to give me a lot of good, solid musical experience, across a broad spectrum in a very short time. And with my reduced alcohol intake and increase in practice time of late, I expect to realize the dividends very soon. At least, a successful concert four weeks from now. (Speaking of which, if you are in the area, have a look at the concert schedule, and swing by to hear me sometime.)

Gear up!

It had been quite a while since I bought music equipment. In 1986, while I was living at my parents', I bought about $10K worth of stuff and built a small studio in the basement. I even glued acoustic panels and shag carpet remnants to the walls to help with the sound deadening in the tiny room. (We had formerly used that room to raise Discus fish, so it had plenty of electrical outlets all around the wall - perfect really - for a recording studio.) Back then, I even had travel cases for everything custom made so I could carry everything to Japan when I went back. Out of necessity, when it came to buying music equipment, I was a bit of an expert back then.

So, two week ago, when my ensemble instructor gave us all of six days' notice that we had to have our own equipment at the concert, I was a little pissed. Pissed because I would have to go through a lot of extra work to get my piano removed from its semi-permanent stand, but mostly because I knew that having to buy equipment can be a pain - pain which I was not looking forward to. Back 22 years ago, we didn't have the internet, so gathering information on equipment, researching prices, and all that took a long, long, long time. Using the internet to research what I wanted and how much it would cost me this time around was a breeze. The only catch was the narrow time frame. I would not be able to order off the internet and get everything sent to me in time. (Well, technically, I could have, but the first case I looked at had a retail price of $129 with free shipping, but expedited two-day shipping was $69 more. Who would pay that for what could be a one time gig?)

Long and short of it is, I did my price and product research online, but I was going to have to do my actual buying in the real world. I really only needed to buy a case and an 'X' stand, and it was pretty easy to see there were limited options for the former, but basically unlimited options for the latter. As far as the stand goes, a stand is a stand is a stand, so price was my only real criteria (I didn't want to spend more than $30, as they are usually available online for around $25). As for the case, my piano only cost around $500 in the first place, so I was not going to buy a $300 hard case for it. That just didn't make sense. Nope, a $99 soft gig bag was going to be the way to go. I called around to the three or four major music shops in the area, only to find nobody had what I wanted. This was on the Thursday after the announcement that we had to supply our own equipment. One shop told me they had a used gig bag, but when he went to make sure they still had it, he discovered it had been sold.

In the end, I was able to find one store that had 'X' stands reasonably priced (around $35) and another store that had a custom Yamaha case not unreasonably priced (around $165). So, I figured I was going to be in for $200, and I let it go at that. On Saturday, I decided to physically make the rounds of the stores, just to see what I could see. Since I had already called around, I knew where I could go to get what I wanted, although not necessarily at a price I wanted to pay, but I thought there was at least a chance I might see something that would work or that I would talk to somebody who could steer me in a different but acceptable direction. I set up my itinerary, and decided to make a stop at a place that over the phone told me they didn't have what I wanted, and from there, I would go in order to two other stores where I knew I could purchase what I wanted.

Well, there's something to be said for doing legwork. The first place I stopped at, although they had said they didn't have stands, happened to have one really nice one, still in the box, that met my needs perfectly. It was more than I wanted to pay ($65), but the salesman said he could knock it down a little. I asked about a case, and he said he didn't have any, but he might have a gig bag that would work for an 88-key instrument. I told him, that's what I'm looking for, even though I said "case". (This is probably where some confusion hindered my search: these guys differentiate between bags and cases. I just consider a gig bag as a "soft case". Oh well.) Again, he had one that was still in its wrap, and again, it was more than I wanted to pay, so I asked him to do a package deal. I ended up getting the case and stand for around $175, tax included, out the door. List for both would have been between $200-225. Online would have been around $130, or $200 with fast shipping, so all in all, I got what I needed when I needed it, pretty much within budget. I didn't even bother to visit the other two music stores.

I guess I still know how to do procurement of music equipment after all.

A new practice routine

Pretty soon, I'm going to write about my experience in buying music equipment. It will, I believe, be very practical and useful for readers of this blog, especially those who are truly new to jazz and the world of music, maybe need to shop around for and buy equipment, but haven't done so in a while. But first, I'm going to put down my practice plan.

This plan is to get me playing better, not to learn tunes (so much), as to just get better. My piano instructor says I need to know more chords and I need to know them more fluently and naturally to play jazz, and he's right. Plus with jazz ensemble being over (for now), I don't have to jam certain tunes into my brain. I can just do what my nerves, muscles, tendons, and will tell me. So, here it is:

-Play three note chord voicings through the cycle of fifths until I've got them down.
-Go through the Real Book and play every song I could play before the concert but haven't played in the last three months (there are a lot of them).
-Work completely through the jazz styles book that I bought and haven't even cracked yet.
-At least once during the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays (each), go through Hanon in one sitting, front to back.
-Listen to (carefully) and review all the new music that I picked up over the last few months that I haven't reviewed on Amazon yet.
-Go through the piano chords newsletters I've received over the last two months and pay attention to them and work on them
-Work on Christmas songs
-Play four note chord voicings including the 9th and 13th through the cycle of fifths until I've got them down.

I should be playing pretty good by the beginning of next year if I stick to this plan. I'll let you know how it works out.

Now, to work!

Debut as jazz musician complete

Debut as jazz musician complete - recording contract still on hold, pending actual reception of an offer...

Well, last night The Flying Monkey played host to three bands from UAH, one of them the Wednesday night ensemble that I play in. At our designated start time of 7:00, only two of our band members were there, but nobody else was ready to play, so when we had everyone but our singer present (some time long about 7:20), we went onstage and began. We opened with Have You Met Miss Jones, which went servably well, with no major goofs and no outstanding lines or anything. My Funny Valentine was next, even though it wasn't on our playlist, and it too was adequate without being professional. Our third song was Wave, which was very sharp, fun, driving, and right on. That was the definite highlight of our set. Then our singer showed up, so we went to Lady Sings the Blues, which again, was clean and crisp without being impressive. We closed our set with Michelle, and unfortunately, that was our mistake. The bass and guitar got out of sync, and the sound set-up wasn't good enough for me to be able to pick up what was being played and choose an instrument to play along with. I played a few notes in spots just to "fill", but finally had to sit out as the wanderings got more and more convoluted and distorted. We managed to get back to the head and plow through the song one more time, before we more or less just stopped, and what the applause lacked in enthusiasm was made up by politeness.

It went about as expected.

I guess that looking at the positive, there's a lot to be said. First, it was my first concert in jazz, so I've got that under my belt. Second, everybody made positive remarks. Nobody said anything like, "You guys sounded great except for that last song" or "What happened?" Everybody just said, "You sounded good" or "Good job", and I like that positivity. Third, I learned that if any band is going to sound good, a minimal amount of organization is required, but there has to be some, and that, in the future, if the organization is lacking, someone (maybe me) can just take charge and bring in the necessary level of planning and focus, in order to at least have a complete set of songs, in a specific order, that everyone can play.

If my expectations aren't met and I need to take charge, I'm okay with that. At any rate, I'll definitely be a better musician for last night's experience. It will still be quite a while before I'll be recording anything, though.

How to prepare to give a jazz concert

Here's a list of things a jazz ensemble should do to prepare for a concert:

1) Make sure you have a designated practice space that will not be commandeered by other musicians or groups, forcing you to cut short or cancel your own practice sessions.
2) Decide well in advance where the concert will be held - don't wait until less than one week before to finalize the venue.
3) Decide the date of the concert also well in advance - don't wait until the week before to decide, "Well, Tuesday, not Thursday." (This, together with #2 is also important in being able to tell folks who might attend your concert when and where it will be held - two of the critical factors in getting people to show up for... like... ANYTHING!)
4) Practice together every week for four weeks leading up to the concert. That is to say, one group session a month before is probably not enough preparation.
5) Decide on the songs you will play at least a month in advance so everyone can work out everything to their satisfaction. Whatever you do, do not wait until less than a week before the concert to finalize the repertoire.
6) Make sure everyone knows they are responsible for bringing their own equipment or otherwise making arrangements for having equipment at the gig - again, don't wait until a week before to tell everyone and expect them to be able to comply.

I'm sure there are a number of other things a jazz ensemble needs to do to get properly prepared for a concert. I'm sure our jazz ensemble didn't do any of those things, either. We sure didn't do the six listed above...

Our concert is Tuesday, Nov. 18. Hey, baby, it's jazz. We're going to make it happen, and it will be all right.

Jumping into the deep end

Over and over again...

Last night at jazz ensemble, we worked on three songs, two of which were completely new to the group and the third having been merely glanced at last week. They were Four (the one we glanced at), Wave, and Joy Spring. For three weeks now, I've had a hard time figuring out why I'm the only one who can't keep up with the chord changes. It sucks because not only am I completely behind the beat (and the rest of the band), I sound terrible. This morning, as I was running over Wave in my head, I started to think of other songs that I play for my own personal enjoyment and I suddenly realized what the difference is between what I play by myself and what we play in band: the songs I play have fewer chord changes, fewer key changes, and what changes the song has are spaced farther apart.

Take a song like Someday My Prince Will Come. It changes every bar, but that's it. And what's more, there are no key changes (at least, no changes that last long enough to be recognized as key changes). But if you take a song like Joy Spring, it goes through a ii-V-I progression in the space of two (quick) bars, then changes key and does it again, then changes key again and does it again, and man, it just keeps going like that. No wonder I can't play it. I go from having to play one set of chords in one key (maybe two), with changes spread over four bars to having to play two sets of chords in three, four, five (or maybe more) keys over two bars or so.

What's happening? Our instructor is throwing us in the deep end of the pool, that's what. No point in standing at the wading end, not even getting your hair wet, is probably what he figures. Hard songs make you play better. So, in you go. Splash!

My dad taught me to swim at the YMCA. I was never a good swimmer, but I could move about in the water, and once I learned to float, I stopped panicking any time I happened to swallow a little water. So, I'm going to do now the same thing I did then: swim as best I can, and keep afloat. Eventually, I'll be able to play these chord changes in a second nature fashion. I may even find a diving board this weekend and jump into the deep end by myself.

The jigsaw puzzle of jazz

There really is no such thing as a hard jigsaw puzzle. I'm not talking about those novelty puzzles, now, the ones with no edges, or the ones with the repeated, same tiny pattern with all the pieces cut the same, or the puzzles with a picture on both sides, or the puzzles that include eight extra pieces that don't go in the solved puzzle, or the 3-D puzzles, or any of that lot. (Yes, I know a lot about puzzles.) For the sake of this argument, we're talking about your run-of-the-mill, 500, 1000, 2000, 5000, whatever-piece, straight-up, no-nonsense jigsaw puzzle.

So, I'll start again.

There really is no such thing as a hard jigsaw puzzle. The pieces that are in the box can be combined to form a picture, a representation of which appears on the box the pieces come in. The pieces go together only one way. As long as you don't lose any of the pieces, no matter what, eventually, the puzzle can be completed. It may take a long time, or it may only take one wintry, rainy afternoon with you and a close friend working on it while sipping brandy tea. She or he will take the blue ones with edges, while you take the brown and red ones with edges, then, you'll have the edges finished and most of the pieces turned over, then, it's just a question of persistence and time.

Just like jazz.

Last night at jazz ensemble, we worked on all of two songs, neither of which I could play, due to the rapid chord changes that I was completely unfamiliar with. The first, "Have You Met Miss Jones", we'd started working on the week before, and I'd just forgotten about it. There are a couple of key changes in it, and they just throw me, especially if I'm trying to think of altered chords with 6th's and 9th's to throw in. It was hopeless. My soloing wasn't terrible, but it was aimless and boring. I was glad when we decided to try something different. Unfortunately, the next song was "All the Things You Are". It is very similar in that the chord changes are pretty straightforward, but there are a couple of key changes that just threw me. Again, I couldn't play much of anything, I didn't embarrass myself too much with the soloing, but it was tiring and I didn't sound very good. By the end of the class, I felt like I'd been through a ringer.

And from there to my weekly piano lesson. I told my instructor what had happened, and he was amazed that I hadn't done much better. "All the Things You Are is my favorite, my absolute favorite," he kept saying. "I can't play it," I said. "Of course you can," said he. So he told me, just play the third and the seventh of each chord. Low and behold, if you do that, you only have to move one note through almost every single chord change, and you progress right down through a series of basic, very pleasant sounding, extremely easy to play, ii-V-I progressions. The lightbulb went on over my head, and my instructor and I put on our sunglasses. "I'll be damned," I muttered, "Another piece of the puzzle and it fits perfectly."

Week by week, piece by piece, I've been putting the puzzle together. All those progressions I practiced blindly all of a sudden reveal their intent, their wisdom to me. All of a sudden, I know why a minor scale works where a major scale doesn't, or I see why repeated moving down a specific number of tones (depending) brings about three key changes in complementary tonalities, or why, if you break down a chord to its two color tones, it becomes easier to play and crisper sounding. And guess what: All that practice of ii-V-I progressions comes right out of your fingers when you start to think through the chord changes. Your brain really does go, "We know how to do that. Here's the muscle and nerve movements you've been looking for all night. They're right here." And, wham! You freaking playing the piano, dude!

I went from tired and depressed to energized and relieved in the space of ten minutes. Just like when you can find that one corner piece that links those two sections of edges you've about finished, so you can fit your blue and brown sections together and have your puzzle about two-thirds done. A couple more nights like last night, and then I'll just have the clouds and blue sky to fill in, and then my puzzle will be finished.

If only...

Where I'm At

My recently purchased 8 CD set of Charlie Parker, plus Volume 8 of the Art Tatum Group Masterpieces arrived just before the holiday weekend. So, that was all I listened to all weekend. I'm pretty sure both can go on the Yoity Tot list, for now, but I don't think Art Tatum will be able to stay there once I get farther along in my jazz music education. The depth of the Charlie Parker set is stunning, and I don't think I've ever had as much fun listening to music as I do listening to that.

I worked on altered chords in a 12-bar blues format. I got a little less than halfway around the circle of fifths in different keys, so I still have a lot of work to do.

I got my drum machine out and played everything with it this weekend, including scales, drills, the blues above, and all the songs that we've played in the ensemble so far. (My Funny Valentine, How High the Moon, Blue Bossa - from my audition, Donna Lee) I also used it to learn I Could Write a Book. I think that helped me more than anything. It will certainly make me a better ensemble player as I am never at liberty with the time and rhythm, and the drum machine helps enforce that in spades. I wonder why I wasn't using it as much before. I'll definitely make good use of it from now on.

And that's where I'm at. Tomorrow: More about the path I'm on and where I'm going.

So much for that

Monday night was my first class in jazz improvisation. As it turned out, it was also my last (at least for this semester), as the course has since been canceled because only two students registered for it. There were a bunch of other students who said they might consider taking it, but apparently, nobody signed up, and I had notice from the teacher today that it is officially canceled.

Which really sucks because I enjoyed the heck out of my jazz ensemble class on Wednesday. There was a guitar player, a bass player, a drummer, a singer and myself. I think I am probably the least skilled in the group (but as the oldest I won't say "least experienced"). I had thought that it would not be worthwhile to me to take just the ensemble class without the improv, as it is only half a credit and we don't study music so much as just get together and work on tunes. But, since I am enrolled and the class more or less fits with my schedule, and because it was so much fun, I'm going to go ahead and stick with it anyway. I think it will make me a much better player and performer, given time to learn the basics of playing in a group.

So now I've got to go and learn how to play every song I've ever learned with chords that eliminate the root and add the 6th and 9th. (Which, if you've ever played that way, you know those chords don't sound all that good all by themselves, making practicing them in such a manner a tough go. The sacrifices made for art... alas...must continue.)

The Audition

Before reading this entry, it would be good if you read the first part. (This entry won’t not make sense, but it will lose some of its impact if the two episodes are read out of order.)

Come Thursday, and my company begins the process of laying people off. Since I work in HR, that fills up my half day so that it just whizzed by and I didn’t have fifteen seconds to think about my audition. But, I did take care of everything I needed to take care of and I did leave on time, stopping to buy some stuff for lunch. After eating lunch, I went straight to the piano and began practicing.

I got out a recording of Thelonious Monk playing Duke Ellington and worked on It Don’t Mean a Thing. I improved it a lot in the thirty minutes I spent on it. I went over and over the back end to get my timing down, and I played the chromatic bass line chords to eradicate some less useful chords that were still in muscle memory that I no longer wanted to use. It tightened up a bit, but I left it a little ragged. I figured I didn’t want to sound above my actual level of skill at the audition, as if that might be an issue. I decided I would not play A Child is Born, because that requires some pedal and light keyboard work, and I wasn’t sure what quality of piano I was going to have to play on. I decided a rough version of Bewitched would do for the ballad, and I just played it through a few times to freshen it up. Then, I worked on Blue Monk. Over and over. Again, I smoothed it a little, but not enough to impress anyone. And again, that would give a better indication of my actual playing level.

So I drive over to the audition, and the jazz ensemble director is there waiting for me. He recognizes me right away (we’d met before), and we chat briefly as we make our way to the practice room. If the following is read at normal speed, it will very closely approximate the beginning of the actual audition:

Him: So, I couldn’t find any jazz music books, other than this mini-book of chord changes, so I’m not sure if you...
Me: Well, I brought my Real Book.
Him: Okay, Real Book. Great. That’s even better. Turn to Blue Bossa. (!) Do you know it?
Me: Actually, my instructor and I looked at it last night, but that was the first time I’d ever tried to play it and I didn’t even glance at it after the ...
Him: That’s good. Here we go, 1, 2, ah 1, 2, 3, 4...

And he started playing it, strumming away on his guitar, just like that. Ten seconds we’d been in the room, and I’m bashing out a semblance of a tune on the piano. I sounded terrible, but for the most part, I kept up. What I played in the right hand was more or less what it needed to be. What I played in the left hand were chords that vaguely followed the printed page. I was still able, however, to assemble everything together at the ending C-minor. He said he liked my chording, but he then proceeded to tell me a bunch of ways to “jazz them up”. He also then had me improvise to the chord without playing them, which I actually did pretty well with. Ten minutes, and the audition was over.

The long and short of it is, because I’m not enrolled as a regular music student, I get last choice of classes. The ensemble director told me that I was not good enough for the advanced ensemble on Thursday, but he might be able to fit me into the Wednesday ensemble, depending on whether there was already a piano player in that group or not.

First jazz piano audition: Part 1

Well, I had my first ever audition as a jazz pianist two days ago. As I mentioned before, I’ve decided to take some music courses at my alma mater, the University of Alabama in Huntsville. I enrolled in jazz improvisation and jazz ensemble. In order to play in the ensemble, a student must audition with the director of the ensembles, to allow him to place the students in groups of a similar level and knowledge. It took me a little while to get in touch with the guy and schedule the audition, but I finally succeeded. As it would happen, my piano instructor, who also graduated from UAH, knows the jazz ensemble director very well, so I asked him to prep me for the audition during my lesson on Wednesday.

He told me that the director would probably have me play a ballad, so we worked on A Child is Born for just a little bit. Then he said, he’ll probably have you play a blues in B-flat, so we worked on Blue Monk for a little while too. Then, he’ll probably have you sight read something. Since we’d never played Tune Up before, we sight read that. Mind you, my instructor was giving pointers all along the way, so many in fact, I was having a little trouble processing them all. Then he says, for another sight reading practice, let’s look at Blue Bossa. Well, there was another I’d never bothered to look at, and even though I like Kenny Dorham, a lot, I’d never even heard the song. So, we tried to play it. I couldn’t do much with it, other than bring everything together at the final C-minor chord. (That made my instructor laugh a little.) It wasn’t long before my thirty minutes was up, and he summed up that I should just remember the key signature and play with confidence.

Due to things being pretty slow at work, we are trying to encourage everyone to use up their vacation and take unpaid leave, including salaried folks like me. So, even though I had planned to go to work early and leave early for the audition, I decided to just take a half day off and practice. I worked hard on Blue Monk and It Don’t Mean a Thing, which was going to be what I played if I had to audition without looking at the music. Both of those turned out to be wasted efforts.

Tomorrow: The Audition

School days

Well, this week in north Alabama, the kiddies go back to school. Add five minutes to my daily drive time, as I go through two school zones and have to stop for at least one school bus a day, but add two hours a week to my sleep time, thanks to no more late night shenanigans by the neighborhood hooligans.

Speaking of going back to school, that's what I decided to do, too. I'm going to take a jazz improvisation course on Monday nights and a jazz ensemble course on Thursday nights. I decided to take them for credit in case I lose my job and end up pursuing a second degree in music, but for right now, I'm just a general student. I'm looking forward to the exposure it will give me to a lot of music and musicians, as well as the more structured environment to learn about music as compared to my weekly piano lesson, where I call most of the shots. It will be interesting and I'm sure it will give me lots to write about. We'll just have to see how much time it takes up though, as I have a feeling I'm going to really have to practice a lot.

Expect short entries in this blog in the future, unless I really don't have to work that hard.