Bainbridge Island
January 1998

My only qualifications for setting down these random thoughts are a few years playing piano in saloons, restaurants, and hotels.

It was fun.

So was listening to the extraordinary sounds that the celebrated jazz musicians in America produced extemporaneously.

Comments, corrections, and expression of indignation...

They’re all welcome...

At...

gconfrey@compuserve.com or econfrey@msn.com

I often wonder why the word, “Jazz” is so misunderstood. Why George Shearing (early in his career) changed his billing from “A Jazz Pianist” to “A Pianist Who Plays Jazz”?

Part of the answer, I think, is attributable to a misconception about what the word means. For some people, “Jazz” connotes loud sounds, a frenetic tempo, a rambunctious (if not disorderly) performance.

Surely these words are not the way to define what jazz is all about. The essence of jazz is improvisation, which can be introduced into any piece of music – a slow, sensitive, quiet ballad, as well as something rampaging.

How does one improvise? By altering harmony, e.g., playing enhanced chords (with the left hand on a piano). By inventing variations in the melodic line. Or by modifying the rhythmic pattern.

That’s it. Jazz incorporates creative ideas in harmony, melody, and/or rhythm.

Incidentally, the word is not coextensive with any particular style, such as Dixieland, Swing, Blues, Funk, Shuffle, or any other species of popular music.

So, can one improvise with other styles? Of course. With Country, Rock, Waltzes, Latin – even Polkas. When this is accomplished, is the performer playing Jazz? A better description would be simply to say, “He (she) is improvising.”

One of south Florida’s preeminent talents in the art of playing jazz piano is Eddie Higgins.

Eddie once told me about a trend he had noticed.

“People don’t seem to make requests in terms of specific songs – as much as they used to. It’s not, ‘Do you play ‘All the Things You Are?’ More often the request is ‘Play me some Neil Diamond.’ Or ‘Play some Sinatra...’”
 
 
 

One can practice this art of tact and skill when performing as a pianist in a restaurant, lounge, bistro, creperie – or any such establishment where customers wine and dine.

As illustrative: You have just finished playing the last measures of “As Time Goes By.” Up to the piano meanders someone in a state of disequilibrium. “Hey,” he says. “Can you play ‘As Time Goes By’?”

Now you – the pianist – have two choices. You can reply by grousing, “You ignoramus! I’ve just played the damn tune.”

Or you can smile and say, “That’s a wonderful song. I have a few requests ahead of yours, but I’ll play it as soon as I can...”
 
 

How well one plays jazz reflects a lot of things.

Talent. Creative ideas. Taste (including restraint). Imagination.

There is one special gift that seems to distinguish the superior jazz musician from the rest of us who struggle. It’s something like an ability to sing on the instrument – guitar, vibraphone, piano, clarinet, trumpet, etc.

Many musicians who play respectable jazz can improvise by singing, say, or whistling an inventive melody line. But when it comes time to improvise on their instrument, other things intervene. Such as “What key am I in?” “What is the progression of chords?” “Will this new melody conflict with other harmonies?” “Will I blur the rhythm?”

All of these concerns are appropriate, but they intrude on the behavior of someone who simply sings his improvisation on his instrument. In other words, what he hears in his head he can immediately perform on the keyboard or trumpet...

Admittedly, I sometimes worry about the salaries some of our talented musicians are paid in our society. For example, I played piano in a lounge in Fort Lauderdale along with a number of bassists and drummers. All of these young musicians had attended prestigious schools of music. Besides doing the gigs in lounges, many of them also performed with local symphonic orchestras. Unhappily, they did not earn enough to cover the normal expenses we all incur: rent, food, transportation...

However invideous the comparison, I often think about the difference between their income and those of celebrities in other occupations – professional athletes, for instance. I think about this in sports bars, as I contemplate multitudinous televisions sets – with maximum audios.

If one plays music well, many people in the audience will display their appreciation by applauding, or complimenting the performer... “The dinner was delicious; the service excellent; but your music really made everything enjoyable...”

But the cynical piano-player may wonder: How many of these people really listened? Or how many could really distinguish between something played extraordinarily and a prosaic performance?

Eddie Higgins once conducted an experiment. He was playing piano with a bassist and drummer. The tune (then very popular) was “Tie a Yellow Ribbon,” which, over time, the trio had played as a foxtrot, up-tempo, rock-beat – every imaginable style. The audience happily danced along.

Out of mischief, one evening Eddie played the song deliberately with the wrong chords in the left hand.

The audience danced happily along: humming the melody-line, mouthing the lyrics, nostalgically reminiscing – without noticing nor caring about the disharmonies.

Many of us who have enjoyed jazz piano through the years will have our favorite nominees for the musicians who have most changed the way jazz piano is played.

Art Tatum would probably get the most votes. The speed, brilliance, the technique of his arpeggios alone was historic.

I would vote for George Shearing because of his block-chords (produced on a piano by amalgamating left and right-hand tones). And Erroll Garner who innovated with a strong, pulsating left-hand rhythm. Count Basie, because of the way he teased us with simple melodic insertions into elaborate orchestral arrangements.

Dave McKenna’s style seems quite innovative.

I had a band when I attended Syracuse University.

Sort of a band.

We played the fraternity and sorority dances, with everyone attired formally. The big-band arrangements, like “But Look at me Now.” And the romantic ballads. And Jitterbug.

Afterwards, we tuxedoed musicians would mosey over to the black (then Negro) neighborhoods to sit in at a bar with the cats who could really play. If one played reasonably well (and traded fours appropriately), the patrons would reward us. The reward: ponies (small bottles) of beer, aligned on the upright piano.

Success was measured by the number of ponies collected in the course of a jam session.

Could it be that the role of an audience for jazz has changed over the past 50 years? I mean beyond the mass preference for rock and country music.

Probably.

A lot of other characteristics of our society have changed markedly. Fashions. The way minorities are perceived. Our taste in entertainment – on television, in the movies, for instance. Protocol and propriety in our social behavior. Our selection of celebrities.

A distinct change seems to have occurred in the way people listen to jazz artists. Like Red Norvo when he was swinging in Chicago. Or Bobby Hackett blowing his horn in Greenwich Village. In the 1930’s and 1940’s, enthusiasts would visit a bar or lounge and listen to the performers. Attentively. Admiringly.

Unless my perception is distorted, it seems that a significant segment of the audience now listens, but, more important, awaits its turn to perform – as amateur singers, amateur bongo-players, whatever.

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with this (if the amateurs are talented). Jazz, like other forms of music, is supposed to induce fun.

But one can’t help but wonder whatever became of respectful admiration for professional talent – without a concomitant expectation of ego-fufillment?

Nostalgia is risky. Looking backward through a misty memory can make you miss today’s events. Or tomorrow. But, as the dictionary says, there is this “bittersweet longing for situations of the past.”

Like boogie woogie.

Like Pete Johnson, Albert Ammons, Meade Lex Lewis, Freddie Slack... With what exuberance these guys could swing! They could make the pianos rock, while scampering around a 12-bar blues.

Incidentally, “Eight to the bar” meant eight quarter-notes in each measure.

But of course you knew that.

Perhaps it’s human nature to announce the things that we don’t like in musical repertoire. Maybe girl singers, or loud drummers, or raucous saxophones, or organs...

At some time, most human beings seem compelled to express prejudice. Maybe it makes us feel superior.

Personally, I’m rather cool about musical saws.

But some instruments, unpopular in jazz, redeem themselves when they are played by the gifted.

The melodica sounds strange in a jazz context until Steve Allen picks one up. Toots Thielmans and Larry Adler do wondrous things with a harmonica.

Have you heard Matt Mathews recording of “Skylark” – played on the piano accordion? Not much resemblance to Lawrence.

Question: What’s a synonym for “mellow?”

Answer: The Mills Brothers.

Here was an etherial sound that was soft and rich. Restrained, yet profound.

Remember the Hi-Lows? The Modernaires? In fact, all the vocal groups that created new harmonies by adding a sixth tone, or a major-seventh, or a ninth? Or segued so smoothly from one section of a song to another?

They were (as we might say today) on the cutting edge of musical innovation. Or (as we might say) pushing the envelope.

The lyrics of songs provided our poetry, as sung by troubadours, often helping to transform mundane moments into euphoria. A homely girl became “unforgettable,” with a “sly, intriguing smile.” And those far-away places that we fantasized about: We envisioned moonlight in Vermont. Or barreling along Route 66.

Nat Cole comes to mind. Mel Torme.

Today’s celebrity, for the young, might be a rock-star or a basketball-player.

When some of us were young, our heroes were jazz musicians, like the drummer, Buddy Rich. I remember listening to him perform with Artie Shaw’s big band. The place was Crystal Beach, in Ontario, Canada.

The biggest thrill? I stood beside him while he actually bought a hot dog at a stand in the amusement park.

Buddy Rich!

Really!

Some of those pretty ladies who sang with bands during the jazz era were popular singers. Others were jazz singers.

Ella, Peggy Lee, Carmen McCrae, Dinah Washington sang jazz. Dinah Shore was, in my opinion, a pop singer.

The difference between these two types of vocalists?

Well, the jazz singer improvises with melody, harmony, and rhythmic changes. But there seems to be another differentiating characteristic.

The jazz singer feels the rhythm as naturally as a heart-beat. She can “just jump right in” at any point in the tune. She would be virtually incapable of coming in late after an introduction, or when the bridge (the middle part) of a song is played. She feels and breathes the song. Maybe she can even scat (improvise meaningless syllables) naturally.

How would we classify Sinead O’Connor?

Just as many have an opinion about who changed the course of piano-playing the most, some of us have our favorites in terms of pleasure-producing.

I enjoy Andre Previn, Dudley Moore, Peter Nero, Bill Evans, Oscar Peterson, George Shearing, Cy Coleman, Dick Hyman... As soon as one starts to recite a list of favorites, the names of many other accomplished jazz pianists come to mind.

So, what are the traits of a good jazz pianist?

Audiences will differ on this assessment. I like “sensitivity,” meaning one who can play a ballad gently, with poignancy, with feeling. I like someone who can “swing” without overdoing it. I’m more comfortable when I can recognize the strains of a familiar melody, like something from Gershwin, Cole Porter, Rogers and Hart.

But that’s just me.

Nobody’s perfect!

In the 1940’s, when I was a bewildered student at Syracuse University, I had a rare and wonderful opportunity of meeting a giant in the field of jazz. A giant literally and metaphorically: Fats Waller.

Fats was performing at a local theatre – to packed houses.

Normally, I was much too shy to approach anyone famous. On this occasion, however, I took a deep breath, went backstage, and knocked on his dressing-room door. To my astonishment, he invited me in for a chat.

But the conversation included a sad tone – at least in part. Ordinarily, Fats was an ebullient human being.

He said he had wanted to stay at Syracuse’s nicest hotel, but was refused because of discriminatory practices. Instead, he was relegated to the Empire Hotel, which catered to negroes and others we would today describe as “disadvantaged.”

This especially bothered him because his son accompanied him on the tour.

He continued to draw large and enthusiastic audiences in the theatre.

It was always a surprise to me when I observed any competent musician (a) consume a generous quantity of alcohol, and (b) continue to play music skillfully. Personally, any overindulgence tended to make me lose track of chord-progressions, to say nothing of other transgressions!

Once I watched in amazement the “Sentimental Gentleman of Swing,” Tommy Dorsey, accomplish this feat.

The setting was backstage, in the wings of a Chicago theatre.

Tommy’s wonderful orchestra was playing an arrangement as only it could. And Tommy’s solos on the trombone were flawless. Between licks, however, he would slip off to the wings (where we were standing) and slug (that’s the right word – not sip) bourbon from a bottle, then rejoin the band onstage for more exquisite music.

With polished coherence.

It’s difficult to say much about the future of jazz in the age of computer technology – principally because everything is changing so rapidly.

Impressions–that’s about it.

1. Those who reject the whole idea of synthesizers (the electronic gadgets that produce sounds), samplers, MIDI (Musical Instrument Digital Interface) recordings etc. are mistaken if they identify today’s electronics with the Moog synthesizers of the 1960’s. The patches (instrumental sounds) are now much more authentic, some virtually indistinguishable from acoustically-generated music.

2. MIDI-computing’s most dramatic contribution to music may turn out to be in the arena of musical education – along with enhancement of performances. How to practice. How to improve. Two reasons: A screen display of a performance in traditional musical notation; a display of a piano, guitar, or other instrument showing the notes played.

3. Among computerniks (not used in a pejorative sense), there appears to be more interest in the techniques of programming than in music per se. A discussion of a “system-exclusive message” seems to generate more interest than, say, a lyrical refrain.

4. Classical MIDI recordings are outpacing jazz recordings, and some of the former are outstanding. (Example: Robert Finley’s recordings of Chopin and Ravel in the library of Classical MIDI Archives in Hong Kong.)

5. If one “surfs” the Internet for jazz, one is more likely to stumble across myopic historians, whose memory jumps from Dixieland to contemporary blues. Almost no big-bands, or small jazz ensembles. Peter Gannon’s activities with Band-in-a-Box are a happy exception to this generalization.

6. To hear what MIDI jazz can sound like, demos on sound-modules may offer the best samples. (Example: Korg products.)
 
 

 

Here’s a goldmine of material to noodle (improvise) with.

“If I Were a Bell.” “Almost Like Being in Love.” “Too Close for Comfort.” “I Could Have Danced All Night.” All those neat tunes by Berlin, Gershwin, Porter, Rogers and Hart, Jerry Herman...

What makes them special? For one thing, a singable melody.

If you delve into this treasure, you will likely find some gems that are conspicuously absent from contemporary or recent “Top 50” charts.

To illustrate: “It Never Was You” by Kurt Weill and Maxwell Anderson. A very moving interpretation was recorded by Kiri Te Kanawa (the opera diva), Andre Previn, Ray Brown, and Mundell Lowe.

Did you ever notice how some country-music arrangements and some jazz arrangements are similar?

Maybe Willie Nelson demonstrates this most noticeably – especially when he has sidemen such as a piano-player, drummer, bassist, guitar, fiddle...

The similarity is demonstrated by the improvised ideas -- during accompaniment or in the course of instrumental solos. A counter-melody. A riff (a short rhythmic phrase). A new, creative melody line. Sustained chords.

Another nostalgic thought just popped into my head.

Not too long ago, the verse was an essential part of popular songs. The verse comprised the words and music before the chorus. The part that set the mood before the romantic lyrics were sung – for a span of 32 measures usually.

Many of the verses were truly memorable. So much so that they might have succeeded as entire tunes themselves.

I can think of several examples. The verses to “Stardust,” “All the Things You Are,” “Am I Blue?”... Even the verse to that old chestnut, “Melancholy Baby” had its charm.

Before we heard the magic of the 78 RPM records, some of us were introduced to the lilt of popular music and the elements of jazz in Woolworth’s 5 & 10-cent stores. Not by any sort of electric instrument, but by a lady sitting on a makeshift stage, “tinkling the keys” of an upright piano. Maybe singing too.

As I remember, sheet music cost about 15 cents. Maybe a quarter. If one had visions of becoming a band-leader, the investment was stiffer. Big-band arrangements were wide, and had to be folded to fit on a music stand. And they cost more. But if one had a vision of assembling a band, what mattered the cost? Spend the dollar!

When a jazz musician says, “Let’s play the blues,” he is not talking about “St. Louis Blues,” “Blues in the Night,” or any other standard pop song. Instead, he is inviting others to join him in improvisation around a 12-bar, looping, harmonic pattern.

If the leader of this particular soiree is a horn-player (e.g., a trumpet), he will probably kick off things in the key of Bb. If the piano-player is in charge, the key signature will probably be C major or F.

Although the format is limited to 12 measures, the progression of chords may vary. Or the chords may be embellished (e.g., an Ab13 in lieu of a D7). But the blues is virtually always 12 bars.

Not in St. Louis, or in the night, nor in the day for that matter.

Just 12-bar blues.

Listening to jazz – be it a piano performance, a jam session, a choral group, a big-band arrangement, or other – has some aspects like those of attending a symphonic concert. One of these is the level of appreciation.

One can, of course, simply enjoy the artistry. The sounds of the tunes themselves – without risking “paralysis by analysis.”

There are, however, multiple levels of listening. Name the title. Identify the composer. Announce when the song was written. What Broadway show? All of these exercises sharpen one’s preparation for a game of Trivial Pursuit. Or hone one’s capacity as a potential contestant for Jeopardy.

Just as listening to an opera or to classical music offers various levels of participation (offers multiple dimensions of appreciation), jazz can be absorbed in various depths. I’m not talking about the technical attributes, like what keys the musicians are playing in. This level is a lot simpler, but rewarding once one knows what to look for.

To illustrate.

Listen to the bass-line. Is it creative or does it sound mechanical? Who’s leading the beat – the drummer or the bassist? Are instrumentalists all “talking at once,” thus muddling the effect? Is the tempo dragging or uneven? Is the solo derivative or fresh? Did the performer inspire the joy of listening, or did he exceed his normal range, thus grating, harshly?

Of course if one is obsessed with negative criticism, one may miss the sheer enjoyment of musical sounds.

Nonetheless, there are a lot of ways to listen to jazz music – without demonstrating how superior one’s taste or knowledge is.

One quality I associate with jazz is humor.

Mischief.

Just as sailors, ham-radio operators, golfers all have their “familial” assortment of jokes, so do jazz musicians. Some biting. Some just hilarious.

Probably Dizzy Gillespie was the leading proponent of mischief-making. Joe Venuti, when he invited scores of bass-players to meet on a Hollywood street-corner to audition for a gig (that didn’t exist)...well he may have established the record for farce.

The point is that jazz struts comfortably along with wit – just as the marchers with umbrellas do at a Dixieland funeral procession. (On the way back from the cemetery.)

Ol’-time piano-players tend to rue the decline in the usage of acoustic instruments, like those big, ebony grand pianos. Grand pianos are indeed still being installed in homes, but many of them will serve as furniture only – never to be really played.

And they’re disappearing from restaurants, hotels, bars...

Instead, the electronic keyboard has emerged – with many effects on musicians who earn their living performing.

Much is said against keyboards, but they have their advocates. Owners and managers of business establishments like them because they reduce overhead costs. Why hire sidemen when the Yamaha, Kurzweil, etc. will provide good accompaniment patterns with dozens of rhythmic styles: rock, shuffle, rhythm and blues, boogie, big-band, bossa nova, tango, polka, Vienna waltz...? If the audience wants to dance, the keyboard-band is ready.

Moreover, the keyboard will easily transpose for any customer who is prepared to sing. Tempo is easily adjusted (without changing pitch). And the choice of melody instrumentation is impressive: piano, organ, guitar, strings, trumpet, sax ensemble, woodwind ensemble... More impressive sounds are available if the keyboard is supplemented with MIDI disk recordings.

Special effects? Plenty. Like block-chords and dual-voice (the combination of two instruments) and split mode (different sounds in the left and right hand). And a ton of percussive effects.

Can reputable jazz be played on these gadgets?

Yep. Still...

There are those who prefer the sounds of the grand piano – with a live human being using brushes on the side, and a bassist who can “talk,” in realtime, with other musicians. And trade fours (pass back and forth the improvised melody). And laugh, aloud.

At a jazz party (a jam session) in Fort Lauderdale, I met a lady with the improbable (but real) name of Marjorie Morningstar.

I was seated on the piano bench at a grand piano.

Marjorie was standing behind me. She liked to wear boas (long, fluffy scarfs) and she played trumpet using only her right hand/arm.

Here’s the voice I heard behind me:

“You play pretty good–for a white man!”

Ungrammatical.

But flattering.

Stuff Smith was his name, and how he could swing on a violin!

There have not been many jazz violinists. Grappelli. Venuti.

I really liked Stuff Smith. He could make the violin sound like a group of jazz musicians.

But. And it’s a big But.

Stuff loved to sing. At my house in Bethesda, Maryland. At his own club in Washington, D.C. The problem was that Stuff played the fiddle brilliantly, but his singing was not that impressive.

When he opened his club in Washington, he invited all the local journalists to hear him. They all came to hear Stuff play the violin.

Stuff sang.

And sang.

And everybody went home.

Antonio Carlos Jobim showed us how the jazz tradition could be refreshed by the infusion of a new beat, new harmonies, and a pretty melody coupled with tender lyrics.

“Desafinado” was probably the first we heard. It was recorded by Charlie Byrd and Stan Getz. “The Girl From Ipanema” is still popular in this Country. These were followed by other bossa nova tunes, like “Meditation.”

Whenever anyone announces the demise of jazz, I think of Jobim.

In fact, the union of jazz with other rhythms seems to me to offer great promise: Latin jazz, Cuban pop, reggae, calypso, lambada, salsa...

Maybe even the Irish rhythms of “River Dance.”

It’s probably my limitations, but, sometimes, I simply cannot understand what authors are talking about when they write about the art of jazz music. I have in mind the stories in the New York Times, the New Yorker Magazine, histories, biographies, movies...

Here we have a simple phenomenon: playing music on the piano, guitar, flute... Creating a feeling of joy among listeners... Capturing experiences that are uplifting, inspiring, fun...

All of which gets translated into an ocean of obtuse words sprinkled with indecipherable social psychology and analysis of “the real meaning.” Personally, I have far less interest in Charlie Parker’s drug habits than finding out how he played so beautifully.

They lose me–most of the time.

One of the reasons that jazz is described as “the only original American art form” is the element of creativity.

That’s an important word, “creative.”

It suggests a lot of qualities: original, inventive, not derivative, unique, unprecedented, individual, productive... Would Louis Armstrong have recognized the association of his sounds with these synonyms? Probably not. Jack Teagarden? Nope. Fletcher Henderson–when he delivered a new arrangement to Benny Goodman? Unlikely.

An oboist, a bassoonist, a string-section of a symphony orchestra – all are reading a score. They, along with the conductor, certainly have latitude in interpreting what Mozart, Mahler, Bach, etc. intended. Arturo Toscanni prefered to play the Beethoven nine symphonies at a livelier tempo than other conductors. And symphonic sounds can be as beautiful, as exciting, as any other auditory effect we hear on earth.

But the jazz arranger, for instance, is not only interpreting a piece of music. He is inventing a new combination of sounds. Composing – on paper.

The jazz soloist, when improvising, is creating something new – with a flugelhorn, vibraphone, tenor sax, guitar, clarinet, human voice...

The effect is to hear something original, inventive, imaginative, unprecedented...

Something new.

One sometimes feels like a dinosaur when reminiscing about big-bands, quintets, Bix Beiderbeck, Glen Miller, Charlie Barnet...

But (as Mort Sahl used to say) the future lies ahead.

There is plenty of hope for the survival of this exquisite art we call jazz.

Wynton Marsalis is having an enormous impact on young musicians who have the ability to swing, to play with expression, to groove (as we used to say). The Smithsonian and the Library of Congress are jazz-conscious.

And many contemporary jazz musicians offer a caliber of jazz that is the equivalent of past masters. Sometimes better. Goodman, Hampton, and Wilson moved us, but Eddie Daniels, Gary Burton, and Makoto Ozone are surely in the same league. European jazz is flourishing.

Moreover, the material from which jazz is constructed has continued to grow over the past 50 years. Dizzy Gillespie’s “A Night in Tunisia.” Bill Evans’ “Waltz for Debby.” Neal Hefti’s “Cute.” Many other robust tunes: “Teach Me Tonight”; “Shiny Stockings”; “Take Five”; “Old Cape Cod...”

You just have to know where to look for such talent and music.

Something like searching the Internet.

Was it Aristotle who described the essence of aesthetic accomplishment as discovering “universals”?

Meaning the elements of beauty that are extraordinary, classic, enduring.

Take Coleman Hawkins 64-bar solo on Johnny Green’s composition, “Body and Soul.” That was recorded nearly 60 years ago, but it still endures as a prototype of improvisation.

Mellow. Poignant. Thoughtful. All the other adjectives one wants to use to describe the performance.

Universal.

Professional tap dancers smile about the gullibility of the public in terms of recognizing intricate, difficult dance steps.

There is one maneuver (simultaneously crossing the legs and arms) that always elicits tumultuous applause. Yet, it’s one of the easiest dance steps to learn and to perform.

Analogously, some of the stunts displayed on a piano keyboard are erroneously viewed as a supreme tour de force – a demonstration of consummate skill, if not genius.

Glissandos. Fast and furious arpeggios. Repetition of a 3-note melody for interminable measures.

Some wise man once said, “It’s not what you put in; it’s what you leave out.”

Beware the histrionics.

No one could have admired Art Tatum more than I.

But sometimes (forgive me, Art) his technique – in my judgment – was excessive. The legerdemain, the astonishing virtuosity, the mesmerizing technique – sometimes it all just camouflaged the tune.

The point of this comment, I guess, is that we aficionados who listen to jazz should be more careful about distinguishing between technique that enhances a tune and technique that is merely a device for displaying agility, ostentatiously.

I’ve demonstrated what this is all about in another article. [“Enhancing Midi Recordings,” in the WinJammer Home Page.]

For these observations, however, suffice it to say that enhanced chords on a piano are one way of distinguishing a great jazz pianist from one who is only “competent.”

The extraordinary pianist plays a 13th, instead of a 7th chord. He lowers the fifth note by a semitone. He understands (and uses) suspensions.

However, all these enhancements (and there are dozens of others) are used with discretion – carefully, normally, with due regard to conflicts with other sounds (e.g., a melody-line).

In the Swing Era, the late ‘30’s and the ‘40’s, big-bands played for dancing, as well as listening.

Romantic ballads, like “Polka dots and Moonbeams,” “Moonglow,” “A Nightingale Sang...,” “Imagination,” “Moonlight in Vermont,” [the moon was often featured]. And the jump tunes, like “Opus No. 1,” “I’m Beginning to See the Light”... And, for those who could master them, a few Latin rhythms, like rhumbas, congas...

Today, there is still plenty of wiggling and gyration on the dance floor to the accompaniment of a rock beat: disco, funk, soul, heavy metal, hip hop, rap...

Is there a place for a conjoining of traditional jazz and dance? Of course. One still sees the break-step, the foxtrot, the line-dance...

More often, however, the contemporary jazz musician seems to be gravitating toward jazz with a Latin rhythm. Jazz Latin, Cuban Pop, Tango, Hi Life... This may turn out to be a healthy development for both genres.

Jazz is a delight to listen to.

But sometimes it’s even nicer to move to.

Then there was the time when our drummer showed up for a gig with a complete set of drums except for his cymbals. No hi-hat. No crash cymbal. No splash cymbal. And 20 minutes until the scheduled downbeat before a restless audience.

.And the time when the guys in the band discovered a nice-looking piano in the hall, which someone had securely locked. No one knew where the key was.

Oh, yes. Once our quartet (piano, bass, drums, vocalist), essentially a swing ensemble, was poised and rehearsed to “fly to the moon.” At the last minute, we learned to our horror that the audience expected nothing but polkas. Nothing but!

And the slightly inebriated man who was visibly annoyed at our delay in playing his particular request. Finger-pointing. Then, “You’ll never work anywhere in this town again!”

But there were happy surprises too. Like the soft-spoken fellow who did not request an inane tune. He asked for “I’ll Remember April,” and all the guys smiled.

Ever wonder what happens when a guest singer approaches a musician and announces her (or his) key as B-natural, E major, or Gb?

If the professional performer is a guitarist, he will probably slide the transpose-bar up or down on the frets. If the accompanist is playing an electronic keyboard, he will probably reach for the transpose button.

But what if the piano is acoustic? Options:

(1) Wish you had absolute pitch.

(2) Resolve to practice chord-progressions in those keys.

(3) Cheat. Play the tune up or down a semitone. Most singers won’t know the difference. Especially if you smile and say “Nice!”

The tunes requested are predictable according to the age-range of the audience.

If the average age is over 60 years, for instance: “Misty,” “I Left My Heart in San Francisco,” “As Time Goes By,” “My Funny Valentine,” “Satin Doll,” “Crazy”...

The favorites list comes down to about a dozen.

If you can play them, you’ve got it made!

Most of the comments in these pages are addressed to standard, traditional jazz music. Contemporary jazz deserves a few observations, however atypical and superficial they may be.

“Modern jazz?” It is not all frenzied dissonance, regardless of what people say. There are rich melodic lines in much of the work. More often than not, the rhythms are four-beat, with alternative styles superimposed. The famous Circle of Fifths (See: “Enhancing Midi Recordings”) is still prominent, along with substitute chords, passing chords, and other standard enhancements.

Contemporary jazz has a different texture. The piano interpretations often reflect a different mode of playing – tighter, more staccato, more imaginative...

Much variation has been inherited, e.g., the flatted 5th chord, used extensively in bebop. Strange, at the time. Natural-sounding now. The fact remains that the modern “cats” are having fun sharping 11ths, flatting and sharping 9ths, playing augmenteds where one least expects them. Experimenting. If this innovation troubles ears and equinimity, perhaps we should remind ourselves about the reaction of audiences when first they were exposed to the chromatic chord progressions of Richard Wagner.

Chords, harmonies, rhythms are more elaborate today than 30 or 40 years ago. The reason: Jazz, like other forms of popular music, is dynamic. It changes over time. It borrows from the past, but discovers or invents new techniques.

Herewith a few examples of contemporary jazz experimentation:

(1) Rhythms: Changes in the course of a song. Example: Eight bars of bossa nova, followed by eight bars of swing tempo, etc.

(2) Melody: In and out of the chord structure. Fresh melodic lines.

(3) Harmony: Succession of chords that do not follow the Circle of Fifths, yet sound comfortable and pleasant. This technique reduces predictability.

Much of the debate about the superiority of rock versus jazz is futile, if not downright silly. Each sect has its critical vocabulary. “Jazz is corny – or like ‘Elevator Music’.” “Rock is juvenile, noisy, aphrodisiac...”

In the classical tradition, is Romantic music better than Baroque music? The question is silly. Each has its own characteristic, its scope, its limits.

Several things blur any discussion of rock and jazz.

For one, the umbrella called “jazz” encompasses many styles with important differences as well as resemblances: Dixieland, ragtime, swing, fusion, jazz waltzes... Similarly, “rock music” includes disco, dance funk, heavy-metal, hip-hop...

Secondly, each style has its strengths and weaknesses, its heroes and its symbols: Elvis, James Taylor, James Brown, the Beetles... Woodstock, the Blues Brothers... Jazz nostalgia will often cite the Glen Miller sound (a clarinet above the saxes), the Modern Jazz Quartet...

The fact remains that every type of musical expression has its proponents, as well as its critics: opera, folk-music, Mozart’s string quartets, rap...

What seems more important than the disagreements is this: Music itself has the magic to add a special quality to humdrum lives, whether we are young, seeking excitement, or elderly, seeking serenity.

It was an extraordinary privilege to see and hear some of the great orchestras: Benny Goodman, the Dorseys, Artie Shaw... And the remarkable musicians, like Teddy Wilson, George Shearing, Marian McPartland. And to talk with interesting people, like Woody Herman. And to noodle a few tunes with Stuff Smith, Keeter Betts, Charlie Byrd. And to chat with Herb Ellis, Shirley Horn...

Then, we also had the marvelous recordings. 78’s (where I first heard Tatum, Charlie Christian, Django Reinhardt), 45’s, long-playing records, audio cassette tapes, compact discs..

The radio was a happy source of entertainment. For example, those coast-to-coast broadcasts (“From the Glen Island Casino...”) What material the composers gave us work with: Johnny Mercer, Harold Arlen, Neal Hefti, Matt Dennis, Jimmy van Heusen, Henry Mancinni... Melodies and harmonies made for romping, or sentimentalizing.

There were also the elements that helped reinforce the jazz feeling: the blue notes; what we used to call ‘syncopation’; grace notes and mordents; the joyous tag (“One more time!”).

In fact, it was an exciting, effervescent era – the era of jazz.

I wouldn’t have missed it for the world!

Hey, maybe it ain’t over yet.

Dr. Confrey taught philosophy briefly in college. He served as Director of the Division of Research Grants at the National Institutes of Health, and as a consultant to the World Health Organization in Geneva, Switzerland. Retired, he now lives in the rain on Bainbridge Island, Washington, where he plays with computers. He is the author of “Midi Windows,” in CompuServe’s Midi Forum, and “Enhancing Midi Recordings,” an article posted at the WinJammer Software home page. His doctorate is from Yale.

 Internet links...

    WinJammer Software  [MIDI Sequencing Software]
   Classical MIDI Archives  [Classical MIDI files]
   PG Music, Inc.   [Accompaniment Program]
    Artville  [Illustrations]
   Idea Bank Interactive  [Marketing]
   Midi Recordings