Kelly and I went to The Afterthought in Little Rock last night for the Monday night jazz show. They’ve been running Monday night jazz at The Afterthought for 14 years now. Before that it was at a place called The Oyster Bar (that was when I lived in Little Rock and briefly played jazz music here).
The same people were there that were there last time. They had more gray in their hair, but it was a familiar scene.
The striking familiarity wasn’t the people, though. It was the structure of the event. I never noticed it before (maybe a case of not seeing the forest for the trees), but jazz gigs typically follow a common structure and share a set of common traits:
- It was scheduled to start at 8. Nobody was there at 8. It started at 8:30.
- The band had obviously rehearsed 0 times for the gig. They didn’t know what songs they were going to play until right before each song started. Improvisation to the max.
- Without rehearsal or a set list, they picked songs that everyone knew. This means they picked the same songs we’ve all played a million times.
- They started with a bossa nova. They followed that with a waltz. Then (as I felt the same internal strife they apparently did) I heard the band leader say to the drummer, “I’m not sure what we should play next, but it should be a swing tune. We’ve already done a bossa and a waltz.” Jazz people have an unwritten rule that you have to play a blues, something with a beat, a waltz, a ballad, and a swing tune in a set. It’s as if the set is not properly balanced otherwise and the jazz police will arrest them for producing an unbalanced set.
- They had someone sit in and played a song nobody else knew, so they all got the fakebooks out and read along.
- In every song, every band member played a solo in the same order. In every song at the end of the solos, the saxophone played “traded fours” with the drummer. Trading fours is when an instrumentalist improvises for four measures and then the band drops out for the drummer to improvise for four measures, until they get once or twice through the form of the tune. I can count the number of instances of trading fours I’ve enjoyed as a listener on the fingers of one hand.
- After the “last song” before the break, they played the standard set break tune, which is a song originally done by Miles Davis that sounds like the closing tag of a circus show. I can’t remember the name of it, and they probably can’t either. It’s meant to be transitional music over which the band says “thank you and we’ll be right back” but it usually lasts 5 minutes or more. It lasted 5 minutes or more.
- The entire band ran immediately outside to smoke.
- We left, but they probably took a break that lasted nearly as long as they had played.
That’s a whole lot of ritual. And the funny thing is that I bet none of the band members enjoy most of it and I know the audience doesn’t care about any of it. The whole routine is constrained by a set of rules that aren’t done in the name of either the customer (audience) or the supplier (musician). They’re done for no one.
I have done all of these things countless times and I have not ever enjoyed the constraints. It’s only now that I’ve been away from it that I realize the constraints even exist.
I wonder what sort of things I do now that hindsight will reveal to be pointless ritual.
December 3rd, 2008 at 02:07 AM
As someone who doesn’t know much about jazz, I have to wonder where the joy is in this ritual? Surely there’s a reason you went to the bar and the band plays there, but this post makes the experience sound rather routine.
December 3rd, 2008 at 02:36 AM
Well, you’ve certainly painted the mundane side of live jazz compared to the rather upbeat description I gave of some of these elements of the music in my Jazz & Programming piece. I still think that some of these constraints are in fact liberating and highly supportive of creative expression (and I’m sure you do too), but it clearly shows there’s no substitute for talent, preparedness and passion, little of which I’m guessing was on display at this set.
December 3rd, 2008 at 03:01 AM
Chris and Nick, yea I actually just tried to highlight the constraints that I felt were negative and ritualistic. There was also a lot to like. All of the musicians were great, and their creativity and passion drowned the ritual and most of its negative consequences. I was just struck by the meaninglessness and blind following of these particular rites, especially having performed them blindly myself many times.
December 3rd, 2008 at 05:14 AM
I think that I’d have to admit that this sentence describes a majority of my existence.
December 3rd, 2008 at 05:22 AM
Dan, maybe that’s a good thing. As long as there’s hindsight.
December 3rd, 2008 at 05:36 AM
Nick, your comment made me think about the freedom-through-contraints side of the jazz set formula. There’s definitely something to be said in its favor. I’m thinking about different rule sets to play the game with different constraints. It just feels like this formula is so overdone that it really makes the gigs feel like work when they shouldn’t have to.
December 3rd, 2008 at 06:44 AM
Chad, your description of the jazz set was right on the money. And funny to boot! I’ve witnessed and participated in that generic routine myself, though it’s not my preference. Personally, I’d MUCH rather perform or listen to a distinct, rehearsed set with tunes that are arranged but still have room for improvisation. Ideally, with a different order of instrumental solos on each tune to avoid the generic scenario of solos you described.
This is generally what you see with national touring jazz artists. The reason this doesn’t happen at your average jazz club is because the people aren’t getting paid enough to play, much less rehearse. It’s sad but true. I’d LOVE to get musicians to rehearse more interesting material or more intricate arrangements, but the only time seasoned jazz cats will show up for a rehearsal is if you pay them. Since performing in a club is sometimes a financial loss for the bandleader once you pay all the musicians, this isn’t feasible for most people. Myself included.
Short of rehearsing, it’s a smart idea to follow some basic protocols to avoid train wrecks on stage. Even if it does seem a bit mundane at times.
Carri Bella http://MySpace.com/CarriBellaJazz http://www.Twitter.com/CarriBella
December 3rd, 2008 at 04:34 PM
Interesting post, especially since I recently had an extremely similar experience. In my case I visited a Barbershop Chorus that I was a member of nearly 12 years ago. They were preparing for an upcoming 60th anniversary show and I was there to decide if I wanted to participate as part of the alumni chorus. I saw the same old faces and the new faces seemed oddly familiar. I recognized the fact that the whole scene was dripping with ritual. The one difference, however, was that the audience and performers appeared to love every minute of it. The constraints existed in the name of tradition and tradition is appealing to some people. In the end I decided not to participate in the show because these rituals seemed pointless. In fact, I now understand that this is the exact reason I decided to quit in the first place.
It makes me wonder what rituals exist in our jobs. No matter what size our company or how long they’ve been in existence there are undoubtedly constraints. They may be a result of our collective preconceived notions or our inability to think past the way things have always been done. In the end we need to question them. Were they created for the customer (audience) or the employees (musicians)? Do we enjoy them? If not, will this lead to us checking out (leaving the show early / not participating) or will we try to change them?
December 3rd, 2008 at 08:16 PM
Steve, good points. What all this makes me think is that constraints can be either liberating and/or inspirational to some people some of the time. Some constraints might be evergreen. Others might be outgrown.
An example in the technical world is the Rails REST support. David labeled it an instance of “freedom through constraints” when he unveiled it. I agreed and still do. But I see some people following it like a band leader counting off the set break tune even though he, the rest of the band, and the audience are sick of it.
As I get back into performing jazz, I plan to introduce new sets of constraints for my own performances. New rules for a slightly different game. Maybe one night, we dispense with sticking to the form of the tunes we play while trying to continue to sound structured and harmonically functional. We don’t play any tunes we haven’t rehearsed an arrangement for. Each tune in the set must be in a key a fourth above the previous one. We only play Thelonious Monk tunes on the second set. Improvised solos must be thematically based on the last phrase of the soloist before you. Etc.
I like constraints and think they breed creativity. But I think they get worn out sometimes when they become ritual.
An interesting conflict here is that there seems to be a fine line between good tradition and bad ritual.
December 3rd, 2008 at 11:58 PM
Thanks for the clarification.
December 10th, 2008 at 02:56 PM
Chad, I have to agree that I have done most of those rituals for the exception of trading for on EVERY song. That’s just crazy and redundant. I think trading four is nice on fast tempo tunes and usually at the end of a set to give the drummer the opportunity to express himself.
I did notice that many bands do play the solos in the same order. Most often I experience the musician that played the main melody does the first solo or the most experienced musician.
I do like the idea of solos being thematically based on the last phrase of the previous soloist, I tried that a few times after noticing in the Brecker Bros recording, very cool and it’s a lot of fun.
If you want to try something very challenging, above my level, is to start by trading 4, then 2 then 1, then halfs, ala Clifford Brown. I am sure you’re familiar with the recording that I m talking about.
I do like to mix a bunch of different tune styles but even more fun is to mix the styles with the song. Play a bossa song as a swing tune or a ballad as a funk and so on. (desafinado funk or swing anybody?)
I do recall many times playing gigs where I didn’t know any of the tunes or tunes that weren’t in any of my fake books. One period in particular I played with a piano player that told me, “just look at my left hand and follow along”. The first night I ended up with a hellish pain on my neck.
Anyway, nice post and very true. Glad to hear that you’re getting back into playing, I am recently doing the same. Btw, David Chelimsky is also a really good jazz guitar player.
December 29th, 2008 at 02:38 PM
This reminds me of Zappa’s remarks on a typical classical performance:
“By performing pieces that the orchestra members have hacked their way through since conservatory days, the rehearsal costs are minimized
- players go into juke-box mode, and spew off ‘the classics’ with ease -and the expensive guest conductor, unencumbered by a score with ‘problems’ in it, gets to thrash around in mock ecstasy for the benefit of the committee ladies (who wish he didn’t have any pants on).”The motivations are different, but the results are the same.
For a while this was my pointless ritual:
Those were the days.