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.
Showing posts with label music lesson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music lesson. Show all posts
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Practice regimen
I’ve been thinking about my practice regimen lately. (As opposed to actually practicing, which would require that I sit at the piano and work, which I just haven’t been in the mood for lately.) Back in March, I developed a sort of plan, a list made up of things that I thought might be useful to practice on a regular basis. I put it in a spreadsheet so that I could print out a sort of tracking grid to actually be able to see what I was practicing and when and how often and sometimes (if I noted it), for how long. It was an excellent idea and I kept at it for one whole month before it got shunted to the wayside. Since I’ve been working on some new things in my lessons, I thought it would be a good idea to revisit it, add to it, and start using it again.
Here it is:
Obviously, there is far too much here to practice it all every day, unless you maybe do so for just a few minutes on each exercise or practice for at least two hours – which is out of my reach at the moment due to a lack of discipline. I would think that a minimum of ten minutes per area is required to realize any sort of advancement, but I find I have to spend more than that on most things before I feel I’m doing any better on it (like scales and stride work.).
One of the important things missing from the sheet is tunes. I feel that after practicing, one must make time for playing. That can be playing just to play, or playing to implement what was practiced. More often than not, for me, it’s the latter, because I think that’s what makes me sound better, but I also an not entirely against the idea of just playing a few songs to make me feel good in general and forget about the burn in my knuckles.
And so, having written all I can write for the moment about practice, I think I will go and actually do some. School starts pretty soon and if I’m going to take some classes, I’m going to have to audition, so, I’d better practice.
Here it is:
Obviously, there is far too much here to practice it all every day, unless you maybe do so for just a few minutes on each exercise or practice for at least two hours – which is out of my reach at the moment due to a lack of discipline. I would think that a minimum of ten minutes per area is required to realize any sort of advancement, but I find I have to spend more than that on most things before I feel I’m doing any better on it (like scales and stride work.).
One of the important things missing from the sheet is tunes. I feel that after practicing, one must make time for playing. That can be playing just to play, or playing to implement what was practiced. More often than not, for me, it’s the latter, because I think that’s what makes me sound better, but I also an not entirely against the idea of just playing a few songs to make me feel good in general and forget about the burn in my knuckles.
And so, having written all I can write for the moment about practice, I think I will go and actually do some. School starts pretty soon and if I’m going to take some classes, I’m going to have to audition, so, I’d better practice.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Virtuoso? More like "lazy so-and-so"
It is said that in order to be a virtuoso in something, you have to practice whatever it is for 10,000 hours. That would make you “world class” or put you into the top 1% in that field, or something like that. In other words, make you a virtuoso. As of this August, I will have been formally studying jazz piano for two years, and while I have not tried to keep track of every single minute that I play the piano, I have tracked the majority of the time that I spend practicing, playing, taking lessons, rehearsing with bands, etc.
Now understand, I have no delusions here. 10,000 hours is a long, long time. To put it into perspective, if I were practicing piano as a full time job - that is eight hours a day, five days a week - it would still take five years to become a virtuoso. If (for example) I worked at it full time, and worked twenty hours every weekend as well, it would still take three years, four months to reach 10,000 hours.
Folks, I can’t even SIT at a piano that long, much less sit at it and play something. (I’m ashamed to admit it, but since school ended, I’m pretty sure I haven’t played ten hours all together. I just haven’t felt like it.)
Given that, the fact that I’m pretty close to having five hundred hours under my belt is actually pretty amazing. If you throw in my plonking around time, plus some of the time I had as a kid learning to play the organ, I’m probably up around two, maybe three thousand hours total. Still, a long stretch to the 10,000 total.
It is entirely possible that I won’t play ten thousand hours of jazz piano in my life. If I do somehow stick to it and play, say, five hundred hours a year (two hours a day, five days a week for the entire year ... yeah right, not likely), I’ll be 65 when I reach the virtuoso total.
What’s the point? I’m not sure, but I think the point is that I need to set manageable, near-term goals, or the title of “virtuoso jazz pianist” is going to fairly and completely elude me.
Only 9500 more hours to go. Let's shoot for two hours today, anyway.
Now understand, I have no delusions here. 10,000 hours is a long, long time. To put it into perspective, if I were practicing piano as a full time job - that is eight hours a day, five days a week - it would still take five years to become a virtuoso. If (for example) I worked at it full time, and worked twenty hours every weekend as well, it would still take three years, four months to reach 10,000 hours.
Folks, I can’t even SIT at a piano that long, much less sit at it and play something. (I’m ashamed to admit it, but since school ended, I’m pretty sure I haven’t played ten hours all together. I just haven’t felt like it.)
Given that, the fact that I’m pretty close to having five hundred hours under my belt is actually pretty amazing. If you throw in my plonking around time, plus some of the time I had as a kid learning to play the organ, I’m probably up around two, maybe three thousand hours total. Still, a long stretch to the 10,000 total.
It is entirely possible that I won’t play ten thousand hours of jazz piano in my life. If I do somehow stick to it and play, say, five hundred hours a year (two hours a day, five days a week for the entire year ... yeah right, not likely), I’ll be 65 when I reach the virtuoso total.
What’s the point? I’m not sure, but I think the point is that I need to set manageable, near-term goals, or the title of “virtuoso jazz pianist” is going to fairly and completely elude me.
Only 9500 more hours to go. Let's shoot for two hours today, anyway.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Break time
It’s spring break, so that means my Monday and Wednesday for this week are free from band practice and free from pressure to demonstrate a little progress and improved capability in playing the five pieces we are learning.
Yeah, right.
All it means is I’ve got to continue to practice and improve and demonstrate twice as much improvement once we get back in the rehearsal room. The way I figure it, the director is probably going to expect these pieces to be ready to go and sounding pretty much like they are going to sound on the night of the concert, a little more than one month hence.
Just the same, if I want to take it easy and then hunker down later, this is the last week I can do so until after April 17. Good thing that my new jazz blues lesson book arrived. It gives me something to look at and makes me want to sit at the piano and learn some new stuff, and after I get tired of that, I work on tunes. Plus, my piano instructor gave me a new practice method/exercise to develop my left hand stride ability, and it allows me to play a bunch of tunes that I like, albeit in a truncated, staccato fashion built solely on quarter notes.
Long story short: spring break is no time for rest.
Yeah, right.
All it means is I’ve got to continue to practice and improve and demonstrate twice as much improvement once we get back in the rehearsal room. The way I figure it, the director is probably going to expect these pieces to be ready to go and sounding pretty much like they are going to sound on the night of the concert, a little more than one month hence.
Just the same, if I want to take it easy and then hunker down later, this is the last week I can do so until after April 17. Good thing that my new jazz blues lesson book arrived. It gives me something to look at and makes me want to sit at the piano and learn some new stuff, and after I get tired of that, I work on tunes. Plus, my piano instructor gave me a new practice method/exercise to develop my left hand stride ability, and it allows me to play a bunch of tunes that I like, albeit in a truncated, staccato fashion built solely on quarter notes.
Long story short: spring break is no time for rest.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Some practice hints
These are some things that have been working for me. They might work for you, too.
1) Even if it doesn't seem productive, practice all the songs you're liable to have to perform at least once each every day. On Tuesday night, not having much time to practice, I was going to limit my big band practice to the two pieces we are going to play in the February concert, but I decided to at least have a look at the third piece that the director gave me. I input the main line in my music program to get the rhythm right, and I practiced all the main phrases except for the obviously difficult ones (two of the, say, six or seven phrases). I didn't expect we would be playing it on Wednesday, but it turns out that the third piece is the "break the monotony fall-back song" for the band, and they love to play it. So when we got sick of playing one of the tunes, we did decide to play the third piece a little bit. Good thing I had looked at it the night before. I actually held my own. Then we played four pieces in combo, so yesterday, I played all seven songs over a period of about an hour. Today, since I will have some time, I'll actually work on improving. But they are sort of getting better by sheer exposure.
2) Practice right before bed, even if it sounds bad. They say your brain forges the neural paths from a day's learning while you sleep. I've noticed that even when I can't play something, even hardly at all, if I practice it more or less right before I go to bed, even if I just keep making mistakes and making mental notes of those mistakes, the next day, it goes smoother. If I'm not drinking while practicing, as I have been doing of late, the effect is even greater.
3) Mix hard drills with easy drills. This seems to give me some positive reinforcement. I work at something that I don't do particularly well, like a stride left hand or full octave scales in both hands, and after that I run through some simple arpeggios and drills, or a straight up scale or two. There was a time I couldn't really play much of anything on the piano, and the realization that now I can play these drills that were once, essentially, impossible, reminds me that I'm not wasting my time on the hard stuff. Someday, it too will be soundly based in my repertoire. (Who knows what ridiculously esoteric and difficult stuff I'll be practicing then.)
4) Never forget to reward yourself. After practicing rootless voicings over and over, I always like to go back to one or two songs with straight up, rooted, full chords. Let's face it: Repeated rootless voicings on solo piano, although they sound great at times, are desperately tiresome after a while. The ear and brain really crave resolution and 3-5-7 harmony when they are continually fed 3-6-9 harmony for any length of time. Give your brain, nerves and muscles what they want, and when the pressure and spotlight are on you, they'll give you what you want.
I'll have more practice tips soon.
1) Even if it doesn't seem productive, practice all the songs you're liable to have to perform at least once each every day. On Tuesday night, not having much time to practice, I was going to limit my big band practice to the two pieces we are going to play in the February concert, but I decided to at least have a look at the third piece that the director gave me. I input the main line in my music program to get the rhythm right, and I practiced all the main phrases except for the obviously difficult ones (two of the, say, six or seven phrases). I didn't expect we would be playing it on Wednesday, but it turns out that the third piece is the "break the monotony fall-back song" for the band, and they love to play it. So when we got sick of playing one of the tunes, we did decide to play the third piece a little bit. Good thing I had looked at it the night before. I actually held my own. Then we played four pieces in combo, so yesterday, I played all seven songs over a period of about an hour. Today, since I will have some time, I'll actually work on improving. But they are sort of getting better by sheer exposure.
2) Practice right before bed, even if it sounds bad. They say your brain forges the neural paths from a day's learning while you sleep. I've noticed that even when I can't play something, even hardly at all, if I practice it more or less right before I go to bed, even if I just keep making mistakes and making mental notes of those mistakes, the next day, it goes smoother. If I'm not drinking while practicing, as I have been doing of late, the effect is even greater.
3) Mix hard drills with easy drills. This seems to give me some positive reinforcement. I work at something that I don't do particularly well, like a stride left hand or full octave scales in both hands, and after that I run through some simple arpeggios and drills, or a straight up scale or two. There was a time I couldn't really play much of anything on the piano, and the realization that now I can play these drills that were once, essentially, impossible, reminds me that I'm not wasting my time on the hard stuff. Someday, it too will be soundly based in my repertoire. (Who knows what ridiculously esoteric and difficult stuff I'll be practicing then.)
4) Never forget to reward yourself. After practicing rootless voicings over and over, I always like to go back to one or two songs with straight up, rooted, full chords. Let's face it: Repeated rootless voicings on solo piano, although they sound great at times, are desperately tiresome after a while. The ear and brain really crave resolution and 3-5-7 harmony when they are continually fed 3-6-9 harmony for any length of time. Give your brain, nerves and muscles what they want, and when the pressure and spotlight are on you, they'll give you what you want.
I'll have more practice tips soon.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Piano Instructor Pith
Two weeks ago, my piano instructor had to cancel my lesson. When I called to reschedule, we were not able to work out a time prior to my next jazz ensemble practice, leaving me to have to analyze two songs on my own, devise my own chord changes, adapt my own rhythmic influences, basically do everything a jazz musician has to do to prepare songs, however, with only fourteen months' experience and precious little practice time to back up those decisions/actions.
I didn't point this out to my instructor, but at this point, I'm really paying him for his experience and analysis when it comes to these things. So, when I realized I was going to go to two straight ensemble practices with no support in between, I said, "Well, I guess I'll have to rely on my whims and wiles to get me through."
And although he was apologetic, he said, "Hey, that's what jazz is all about."
As it turned out, I did fine (terrible, but fine), and I continue to work at my music. I think it is no coincidence that an anagram for piano is, "O, pain!"
I didn't point this out to my instructor, but at this point, I'm really paying him for his experience and analysis when it comes to these things. So, when I realized I was going to go to two straight ensemble practices with no support in between, I said, "Well, I guess I'll have to rely on my whims and wiles to get me through."
And although he was apologetic, he said, "Hey, that's what jazz is all about."
As it turned out, I did fine (terrible, but fine), and I continue to work at my music. I think it is no coincidence that an anagram for piano is, "O, pain!"
Monday, September 29, 2008
Catchin' that Wave
For a change, I had a good weekend of practice. I was sort of worried, because my piano lesson was cancelled on Wednesday, so I didn't have a chance to look at the ensemble's new songs through the experienced eyes of my instructor, and on Thursday and Friday, I couldn't do anything with any of the new material. On Saturday, I gave up, and on Sunday, on a whim, I thought I would at least try to play along with the records: Frank Sinatra singing Wave, and Clifford Brown doing Joy Spring.
That proved to tip the scales in my favor. While I'm still unsure of a few of the chords, I got the rhythm and tempo of both songs down, which makes it easier to fake when I don't know the chord or I get lost in my fingerings, or whatever.
Tonight I have nothing to deter me from a full couple of hours' practice, and the same holds true for tomorrow, although I will hopefully be able to schedule a makeup piano lesson in there to get just a little clearer image of what I should be playing as an ensemble player. (Yes, it seems dumb to have to state the obvious, but solo piano is different from ensemble piano, and ensemble piano doesn't sound like anything by itself, which is one of the reasons why it is so hard for me to practice.)
That proved to tip the scales in my favor. While I'm still unsure of a few of the chords, I got the rhythm and tempo of both songs down, which makes it easier to fake when I don't know the chord or I get lost in my fingerings, or whatever.
Tonight I have nothing to deter me from a full couple of hours' practice, and the same holds true for tomorrow, although I will hopefully be able to schedule a makeup piano lesson in there to get just a little clearer image of what I should be playing as an ensemble player. (Yes, it seems dumb to have to state the obvious, but solo piano is different from ensemble piano, and ensemble piano doesn't sound like anything by itself, which is one of the reasons why it is so hard for me to practice.)
Thursday, September 25, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
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...
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...
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
A new case of the blues
With my piano instructor busy on Wednesdays this month, I had my piano lesson for an hour last night. I told him all about my jazz ensemble experience and that I couldn't even play a blues with altered chords, much to the consternation of the jazz ensemble instructor. So, that was what we worked on last night for the entire time, in the key of F: a standard twelve bar blues progression, where my piano instructor's concept was slightly different from the concept we played at the jazz ensemble class. It wasn't hard except just the first few times through as I had to think about the chords and try and remember them after playing something different. Once I had the hand muscle memory, it was just a question of timing, which wasn't all that good. It's not often that one has an hour long piano lesson, plays almost the entire time, but never once plays a single song.
Productive. Really.
Anyway, now I have a formula, both for the chords and a blues progression to practice on a regular basis. I haven't much time between now and tomorrow's class, so I'll just try two or three likely changes of key and then see how I fare tomorrow. During the next week, I'm going to get out my drum machine, work on all keys in proper rhythm, and then start throwing some of the chords into actual songs. It's just a question of work, and I'm not giving myself any choice or leeway. It makes me a little blue now, but it should payoff with green later (someday, maybe).
Productive. Really.
Anyway, now I have a formula, both for the chords and a blues progression to practice on a regular basis. I haven't much time between now and tomorrow's class, so I'll just try two or three likely changes of key and then see how I fare tomorrow. During the next week, I'm going to get out my drum machine, work on all keys in proper rhythm, and then start throwing some of the chords into actual songs. It's just a question of work, and I'm not giving myself any choice or leeway. It makes me a little blue now, but it should payoff with green later (someday, maybe).
Saturday, August 23, 2008
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.)
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.)
Monday, August 18, 2008
A small accomplishment
This weekend marked a first for me: I finished playing through one of my drill books. That's right, I've conquered the mountain of Hanon's Virtuoso Pianist in 60 Exercises. Now, let me provide this disclaimer: that means I played through all the exercises in the entire book at least once. It doesn't mean I can do everything the exercises are designed to teach you to do, and it doesn't mean my playing has gotten better, necessarily (although I think it has). What it means is that I promised myself I wouldn't buy any more drill books until I had at least gotten through one that I owned. Truthfully, when the end came in sight about two weeks ago, I went ahead and bought some more books, but fact of the matter is, I reached my goal. Now, when I practice, I go back and work on various parts of the book, in order except for the scales, which I do one of every session.
I said "small accomplishment", but actually, that's a pretty big deal for me.
I start back to school tonight. Jazz improvisation on Mondays, and jazz ensemble on Wednesday or Thursday (or maybe not at all). The thing most likely to improve this semester, especially if I take Wednesday night jazz ensemble: my figure. I'll have to go with only hard boiled eggs, granola bars, and water for dinner on Monday and Wednesdays. Since I'll have to practice what I learned when I get home, and I won't get home until 8:00 or so, I won't be able to drink alcohol or eat a full dinner. I think I'm good for somewhere between five and ten pounds of weight loss, just to make music.
If I stick to that plan, that will be a much bigger accomplishment.
I said "small accomplishment", but actually, that's a pretty big deal for me.
I start back to school tonight. Jazz improvisation on Mondays, and jazz ensemble on Wednesday or Thursday (or maybe not at all). The thing most likely to improve this semester, especially if I take Wednesday night jazz ensemble: my figure. I'll have to go with only hard boiled eggs, granola bars, and water for dinner on Monday and Wednesdays. Since I'll have to practice what I learned when I get home, and I won't get home until 8:00 or so, I won't be able to drink alcohol or eat a full dinner. I think I'm good for somewhere between five and ten pounds of weight loss, just to make music.
If I stick to that plan, that will be a much bigger accomplishment.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
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.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
First jazz piano audition: Part 1
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
Sunday, August 3, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Entranced by Bewitched
Last week, while in the throes of my cold, I had time but not much energy, so I passed some of the day I took off work listening to jazz music with my Real Book close by. Now, while it is true that I listen to jazz everyday, somewhere on the order of two hours a day no matter what, it is rare that I actually sit down and the only activity I'm engaged in is listening to music. So last week, when I did that, I found it much more of a treat than usual. I pulled out Ella Fitzgerald singing Rodgers and Hart, simply because so many of those songs show up in the Real Book. One that stuck in my brain, because I paid attention to the (very risque for the time) lyrics, was Bewitched. When I took a look at the chart, I found it contained a lot of diminished seventh chords. Well I'll be. I'd just spent two or three weeks working on diminshed chords, but never attempted a song that was as rich in them as Bewitched is. So, I started to play it.
It was a lot harder than I thought, but as is generally the case with standards from the Real Book, I pretty much had it down in two or three days. (Mind you, "having it down" means I can play the melody line with a minimum of mistakes while playing simple chords in rhythm underneath - nothing fancy.) I thought it would be a good song to trot out at my lesson this week, so I did. Imagine my surprise when the instructor says it's one of his favorite songs. He knew how to do a lot of different things with it, and showed me most of them, and so, forty minutes of my half hour (heh-heh) music lesson was Bewitched.
Of course, I can't imitate all of my instructor's ideas and can attempt maybe only a few of the licks he showed me, maybe or maybe not being able to incorporate them into the song by next week, but, I'm liking the song more and more as it opens itself up to me, little by little. Yeah, it may be simplistic, but jazz continually surprises and inspires. What else can a pianist, who hasn't even been taking lessons for one year yet, hope for?
It was a lot harder than I thought, but as is generally the case with standards from the Real Book, I pretty much had it down in two or three days. (Mind you, "having it down" means I can play the melody line with a minimum of mistakes while playing simple chords in rhythm underneath - nothing fancy.) I thought it would be a good song to trot out at my lesson this week, so I did. Imagine my surprise when the instructor says it's one of his favorite songs. He knew how to do a lot of different things with it, and showed me most of them, and so, forty minutes of my half hour (heh-heh) music lesson was Bewitched.
Of course, I can't imitate all of my instructor's ideas and can attempt maybe only a few of the licks he showed me, maybe or maybe not being able to incorporate them into the song by next week, but, I'm liking the song more and more as it opens itself up to me, little by little. Yeah, it may be simplistic, but jazz continually surprises and inspires. What else can a pianist, who hasn't even been taking lessons for one year yet, hope for?
Sunday, July 13, 2008
The G# minor scale - under duress
Okay. G# minor. Okay, that's the melodic minor of B major...five sharps. Only two white keys, B and E. Let's see, though, we have an E#, which is an F. (Cough, cough, cough.) and a...crap. Is that a double sharp F? (Hack, wheeze.) Yeah, it is. So three white keys. (Cough, cough.)
Let's try it.
G sharp - A sharp - (hack) - B natural - (suppressed hack) C sharp - D sharp - E sharp (F) - (hack) - (wheeze) - (invective) - F double-sharp - (invective, hack, invective) - G sharp - A sharp - (cough) - B natural - (suppressed cough, hack) C sharp - D sharp - E sharp (F) - (cough, cough, invective) - F double-sharp - (invective, wheeze) - G sharp.
OK, great, let's try E major then C# minor, and go from there. (Hack, cough, wheeze.)
That's been basically my whole weekend, folks. How's yours going?
Let's try it.
G sharp - A sharp - (hack) - B natural - (suppressed hack) C sharp - D sharp - E sharp (F) - (hack) - (wheeze) - (invective) - F double-sharp - (invective, hack, invective) - G sharp - A sharp - (cough) - B natural - (suppressed cough, hack) C sharp - D sharp - E sharp (F) - (cough, cough, invective) - F double-sharp - (invective, wheeze) - G sharp.
OK, great, let's try E major then C# minor, and go from there. (Hack, cough, wheeze.)
That's been basically my whole weekend, folks. How's yours going?
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Through sickness and in health...
Man, catching a cold in the middle of summer is no fun. I felt this one coming on as early as Sunday, and have been fighting it with Listerine and aspirin. Yesterday (Tuesday), it just started taking over at three in the afternoon, and by the time I took Mrs. S to dinner for her birthday, I was reeling. I used all my energy then, but knowing I have a lesson tonight, I wasn't going to blow off the piano entirely. I sat and played for about a half hour, surprised at my dexterity with the melody line of Ornithology, disappointed with everything on Maiden Voyage. I decided there would be no point in working on any drills in the state I was in, so I just watched the weather before going to bed.
I slept fitfully, if at all, last night, sweating bullets even with the thermostat turned down an extra degree. I used Helen Merrill's CD to lull me to sleep, but that only succeeded in making me have nightmares about trying to find new Helen Merrill CD's and finding there to be so many and most of them priced at $35, that I became despondent. No surprise then this morning when I woke up and felt like a dirty dish rag, if a dirty dish rag can feel like much of anything. I summoned the energy to shower, dress and take various sundry cold medicines in large quantities. I succeeded in driving myself to work, even stopping to get gas on the way. ($55 for a tank full - a new record for my G6).
My goals for tonight's piano lesson are simple:
-Work on and talk about mechanics, especially the scales and drills I've been fussing with.
-At least take a look at Ornithology and Maiden Voyage, even though (I've no doubt) I won't be able to play them
-Keep the lesson short and don't give the instructor my cold.
Modest goals, modest but steady improvement, and damn my virus weakened body.
I slept fitfully, if at all, last night, sweating bullets even with the thermostat turned down an extra degree. I used Helen Merrill's CD to lull me to sleep, but that only succeeded in making me have nightmares about trying to find new Helen Merrill CD's and finding there to be so many and most of them priced at $35, that I became despondent. No surprise then this morning when I woke up and felt like a dirty dish rag, if a dirty dish rag can feel like much of anything. I summoned the energy to shower, dress and take various sundry cold medicines in large quantities. I succeeded in driving myself to work, even stopping to get gas on the way. ($55 for a tank full - a new record for my G6).
My goals for tonight's piano lesson are simple:
-Work on and talk about mechanics, especially the scales and drills I've been fussing with.
-At least take a look at Ornithology and Maiden Voyage, even though (I've no doubt) I won't be able to play them
-Keep the lesson short and don't give the instructor my cold.
Modest goals, modest but steady improvement, and damn my virus weakened body.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Drilling, but not for oil
I'm drilling for skill, baby!
I've been a fiend for piano practice over the last four days. It's those lazy days of summer and with nothing much else to do, I spent the mornings over the holidays doing yardwork and the afternoons beating the daylights out of my piano. I've been working from my jazz chord book and from Hanon. In the latter, I made it all the way to the scales, and I have been working pretty hard on them for two days. I'm a little confused about the utilization of the melodic minor and "ancient" (I think that's what it's called) scales, so I sort of let that taper off for now until after Wednesday when I can ask my instructor about them. (I'm also going to ask him about the practicality of my current drill routine - though I don't think he'll say anything one way or the other.) In the jazz chord book, for now, I'm not trying to make any sense out of anything, just playing. And playing. I figure, this stuff has to become second nature to me, somehow, so for now, I don't need to analyze too much, just get the muscle memory going.
Of course, I also play a few tunes, and I can almost make Ornithology go, but I can't play the left hand parts yet. I've also managed to put a skeletal version of Maiden Voyage together, which is something. It's just good to feel my hands bending to the task. Now, if I could just get my back to do the same...
I've been a fiend for piano practice over the last four days. It's those lazy days of summer and with nothing much else to do, I spent the mornings over the holidays doing yardwork and the afternoons beating the daylights out of my piano. I've been working from my jazz chord book and from Hanon. In the latter, I made it all the way to the scales, and I have been working pretty hard on them for two days. I'm a little confused about the utilization of the melodic minor and "ancient" (I think that's what it's called) scales, so I sort of let that taper off for now until after Wednesday when I can ask my instructor about them. (I'm also going to ask him about the practicality of my current drill routine - though I don't think he'll say anything one way or the other.) In the jazz chord book, for now, I'm not trying to make any sense out of anything, just playing. And playing. I figure, this stuff has to become second nature to me, somehow, so for now, I don't need to analyze too much, just get the muscle memory going.
Of course, I also play a few tunes, and I can almost make Ornithology go, but I can't play the left hand parts yet. I've also managed to put a skeletal version of Maiden Voyage together, which is something. It's just good to feel my hands bending to the task. Now, if I could just get my back to do the same...
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