On improvisation
Many musical traditions have improvisation at the core of their practice. Often, improvisation appears within the frameworks of long standing traditions, sets of rules and theory. And there are as many degrees between composed work and improvisation as there are styles and musical practices.
In the more recent development of music in western tradition, ‘free improvisation’ is seen as breaking away from existing models. However, further inquiry will show that in actual fact, it reproduces many aspects which feed right into the current music industry and cultural or social demands.
I would like to present the idea that nothing is completely independent. Against the contemporary fad in pursuit of the ‘new’, nothing is purely novel, nothing is unique.
With this understanding of the law of causality, it is also important to consider the law of conservation of energy.
So I will draw parallels here with science in saying that nothing is ever created anew, nothing disappears, but everything transforms. This implies that every action, every event, every phenomena is the result of previous experiences; every effect has a cause and often it is difficult to separate cause from effect. We are all interconnected. This highlights the central point in the Buddhist mind that everything and everyone is inter-dependent. This law of causality is known as dependent arising.
To further the parallel with the Heart Sutra – a central teaching on the nature of Śūnyatā – I will add the following points:
Nothing is completely independent in that all things arise from a cause – it is said that things are empty, that is, empty of inherent existence, as there lacks an ultimate blueprint that dictates what this form is or is not. Things are empty of real existence because they are such only as the result of multiple causes and not by ultimate design.
So in reference to the practice referred to as free improvisation as we know it, it is a form of music making that took shape in reaction to cultural currents at a specific point in time. Needless to say that this has brought back into the mainstream the practice of spontaneous creation that had been pushed to the margins by the dominant trend in written, controlled forms, that led to the commodification of music, with focus on perfection of execution, reproducibility, recognisable and predictable popular elements, etc.
It is with a sense of irony that one may note that, although Derek Bailey coined the practice of free improvisation in the UK as a clear political positioning against established styles, he still developed a framework described by Dominic Lash (in Syntactics, 2006) using the problematic metaphor of language with its predictable patterns and structure where one’s musical personality is associated with the creation of a recognisable ‘vocabulary’.
Even when individuals break away from tradition, we are never too far from the impositions and demands of a culture ridden with conformism. In other words, no opposition can be so far out as to be in complete isolation; it has to be accepted and recognised by some for its ‘validation’, and, as stated above, is always grounded in and informed by existing knowledge or practices.
So, although free improvisation, by definition, should be free of any imposed style, formulaic technique or annexed to any time, culture, tradition or history, it is often informed by aesthetic choices and approaches identifiable in the players’ musical history and education.
There are very recognisable styles of playing and schools of thoughts that have developed over the years, which are associated with locality and points in time. For example, a minimalist approach and a great interest in noise abstraction and structures gives a specific flavour to improvisation that comes out of the London scene. Similarly, and around the same time, mainland Europe has more concerns with notions of silence, space and structures.
So how can it be that improvisation should take on predictable forms? Can we then still claim to be experimental, avant-garde and improvised, strictly speaking? Can we claim to improvise if we resort to a known vocabulary, a database of formulas that can be sequenced and altered slightly depending on context?
Well, it is obvious that there are different degrees to what is referred to as improvisation. It is evident that jazz improvisation (the spontaneous performance of solos within specific sets of rules) is not the same as the said free improvisation that has no pre-established rail to direct its narrative.
When talking about jazz, one has to take into account the importance of African music, where improvisation happens within the trance inducing repetition of specific rhythms. In classical Indian music, ragas have a strong connection to improvisation within frameworks where melody is constructed from strict segments – it is the rules around the combinations of notes and time divisions that give the very flavour to a raga.
In western, industrialised culture, it is important to understand at this point that throughout history, the notion of excellence, a commodified value that validates one’s musicianship and ability to perform has been strongly associated with one’s ability to develop a personal style. There is enormous pressure in developing one’s sound or voice. Of course, this has to be seen within a culture that is obsessed with individualism and ‘personality’. Of course, this fact goes against the Buddhist ideal of selflessness; ego tends to interfere with a communal act of creation based on communication and adaptability, central to free form playing. John Butcher’s article in Son du Grisly points at the times when this friction between style and freedom becomes problematic. In this article, he demonstrates the limits of said improvisation, when players are unable to shift from their recognisable, personal style.
Noticeably, most music schools, jazz in particular, put extreme importance on reproducing and mimicking the playing of known practitioners while at the same time advocating personal development. In practice, there is much pressure in playing standards in the commercial scene, and many stick to known territories when venues are desperate to get ‘bums of seats’.
In any case, if one understands the deep teachings on emptiness and causality, it is obvious that the material of choice and the way one practices informs what will eventually come out in performance. So what is often referred to as improvisation is, in many cases, a rendition of one’s focus of practice, that is, the creative output of influential figures, altered to fit one’s personal sound. Progress and change is always a slow process.
It must be pointed out that all the famous jazz players became famous for their individual styles, and due to their own original creations, not their rendition of classics, nor for the reproduction of someone else’s style…
From the present cultural perspective – there is an unspoken pressure to conform in order to be accepted, copy in order to progress, execute with perfection often at the detriment of creativity. No-one is born an improviser, it has to be re-learned. Due to current approaches to education, we all come from (or through) certain traditions, with specific styles, before having the required experience and technique to improvise. There is an assumption that one is not born but must become free. And i find this very problematic. There is something in the way we design a curriculum that subdues this original creative freedom, which eventually has to be re-learned.
Here also, dependent arising applies. In a culture where control, predictability etc. are central to the commodification of products, we have to re-train ourselves for the practice of improvisation, as if one has to free oneself from the norm, and go against the dominant trends where free-flow is not the desirable standard.
Of course, it is possible to become reasonably good at playing an instrument without exposure to a specific education. But I will argue that, in order to be really proficient and have enough vocabulary for varied and true improvisation, to have enough control of an instrument and fluidity so we are not limited to a certain range of playing techniques, it is very important to practice in the traditional way as well.
However, it is important to take into account the point put forward above, and practice in ways that invite creativity, and avoid formulaic exercises that will tie one’s playing down to predictable patterns.
I have found that in order to perform experimental sounds or approaches such as ‘extended techniques’, one has to practice traditionally, that is scales etc. across the whole range of the instrument, in order to develop the necessary skills and control. I do not particularly spend time practicing such extended techniques, but I know that in order to master ‘multiphonics’ on the saxophone, it is essential to develop an adequate embouchure and so on – and that is through the practice of scales and long tones across the range of the instrument, and more scales, and more scales and….
To finish on the topic of stylistic approaches, I will say that there are many styles of improvisers and we all have a certain background. Looking at the rich scene that has thrived in the city of Sheffield, the birthplace of improv in the north of England, I could see that musicians I played and performed with had retained a flavour (rather than a defined style) in their improvisations that were reminiscent of their musical culture.
Improvisers can come from all sorts of contexts: free jazz may be the most obvious, but also modern classical, folk, country and western even, or noise, rock, and electronic music. And as a matter of fact, like any other music genre, improv is merging with other avenues such as new music, contemporary classical, experimental electronics, field recordings, noise art. You name it. For me, it is all about communication, change, adaptability, which is why I do not buy into the premise of a personal identity/sound as point-of-sale.
But in the end, it is up to the individual musician to balance fairly their musical education and taste, the idiosyncratic sound they have developed (based on other players or not) and finally, what they feel is improvising within certain constraints, or completely freely.
So consequently, recognisable movements develop that seem to ‘stick’ to a particular approach or personal style. And improvisation then negotiates its freedom within such frameworks – where sound has replaced musical genre. For example there was a strong attraction in London for abstract minimalism so much so that anyone playing a ‘note’ would be looked down upon. I feel that this is where style becomes a limitation, and is counter-productive. However, this is down to the behaviour of individual players or groups, and is not a feature of improv per se. Fortunately, such fashions or schools come and go. Styles do not define improvisation because it is not a style, but rather, for me it is an approach to creating music, regardless of the aesthetic chosen, if any.
To quote a master in a totally different discipline:
« At best, styles are merely parts dissected from the unitary whole. All styles require adjustment, partiality, denials, condemnation and a lot of self-justification. The solutions they purport to provide are the very cause of the problem, because they limit and interfere with our natural growth and obstruct the way to genuine understanding. Divisive by nature, styles keep men apart from each other rather than unite them.»
Bruce Lee
So once again, I feel the need to draw parallels with the early references I made. We have seen the importance of history, theory and technique. And we have seen that the creative act of improvising is dependent on all or some of these factors. However, some people do improvise without exposure to theory. Others deny technique and do their own ‘thing’, thanks to the liberating punk attitude of the late 70’s.
Styles change, merge and pass away.
So if we look into detail and examine with a microscope, what is improvising? Is it defined by history alone? No. Is it just theory? No. Technique? No.
Music, and improvising are not just theory. Theory is a framework. Music is not just notes on a score. It is not a formula. And it is not just a language. How many people can speak simultaneously and still understand each other.
It is striking how similar this line of questioning deliberately follows the Buddhist analysis of what is self. Self is not the mind, it is not the senses, it is not just our emotions, etc…
And through the close study of the very deep, detailed, and complex text that is the heart sutra, one has to come to the conclusion that the self (and by the same token, that style in improvisation) does not exist.
The self is therefore said to be empty of itself, and can only be understood to be the observable result of complex streams of causes and effects.
So improvisation, as a style, does not ultimately exist. It is the product of an unruly history of practices and traditions that logically lead to the present state of affairs. Right.
In spite of many attempts to justify ruthless consumerist cultures, the arts are often considered unessential. And yet, all remains that are found to belong to ancient cultures are tools (for hunting and preparing food) and art objects – i would include cave paintings, bone flutes and jewellery. This essential part of our culture, of our survival, of our psychological, emotional, and spiritual evolution has been with us at all times. Art does not require justification, and especially not on financial ground. And if we need to re-learn the art of improvisation, the taxonomy and writing of music that led to commodification is comparatively a recent development.
To further the comparison between the practice of improvisation and meditation, let’s introduce the idea that ‘deep listening’ is absolutely central in that it offers a gateway for complete immersion into sound and allow oneself to be part the vibe, or soundscape that is spontaneously created. This way a group becomes one mind.
Secondly, I will say that empathy is absolutely essential in the practice of improvisation and this goes much further and deeper than the absolutely essential listening skill required in the practice of musical improvisation. Compassion is the utmost state for a true Buddhist practitioner, just as the empathy of ‘deep listening’ should inform all musical communication. As we have seen, it is when people stick to their individual sound (ego-clinging) and compromise communication that improvisation does not work.
I would like to share with you my personal experience of improvisation. One that, I would argue, is not shaped by theory and tradition. One that is free to dare play notes when others think improv should only be ‘structural’ abstract sound. One that has to be loosely, from a distance, supported by skills developed from traditional practice but… improvisation that has to completely let go of such frameworks, that has to let go of all expectations and peer pressures, that has let go of a need to please, even the need to achieve. Only then can you be completely free. The only limitation would therefore have to be structural to whatever instrument you play, and to what abilities you have integrated.
Improvisation, in this, is like meditation. And through improvisation, I have, personally and undoubtedly experienced moments of deep spirituality, both alone or shared with other skilled musicians.
There are references to this is various contexts, although the subject is very rarely talked about. In jazz, some talk about ‘the zone’ or ‘when the music is good’ and those moments are regarded as special. Steve Coleman, of all the jazz cats I know, seem to incorporate ‘the zone’ into his creative process and there are a few references to this in interviews on his Mbase site. But, his music is so complex, it has to be written. It is clear then, that improvisation ‘in the zone’ is used to generate material, which Steve then integrates into written parts. In order to read music from the page (or from memory), to follow complex structures, a certain level of cognition has to take place.
And it is evidently a matter of physics that so much energy is available at any given point, but also, certain approaches require specific mind states that may be incompatible: The more cognitive engagement is required, the less one is able to access the creativity of deep meditative states.
Coleman seems to strike a very interesting balance between the two, even stating in a recent interview about the performance of complex structures written for large ensembles, that spontaneous creation still has a large part in the performance of complex music. But evidently, he insists that much ‘preparation’ is required. “Spontaneous has a method, has a way”.
People’s experience and interpretation of the zone varies immensely. There is a tradition, very close to my heart, that takes this much deeper. In traditional shakuhachi playing, Buddhist monks used the bamboo flute as a tool for meditation, more so than for making music. There is a wonderful article about this by master Kiku Day (see biblio) where she underlines the importance of letting go.
There are also writings that coined the term ‘flow’ by Mihály Csíkszentmihályi that may be of interest in relation to spontaneous creativity. However, i feel that this term has been associated with commercial, business endeavours, where using the flow is a means to an end. This loses touch with the whole purpose, and the integrity required for meditation; and the notion of flow becomes artefact, superficial commodification of spirituality.
So it seems that musical traditions and improvising on the one hand, and spiritual practices (that involve a scientific approach to meditation) on the other, are always kept separate whereas I feel that both coexist in reality on a level very few people consider, mostly because we tend to remain bound by the boundaries of specific practices. There are a few examples in western culture and jazz, but generally spirituality is always a bit of a taboo in the art world.
So I would say that it is important we explore and study further the creative potential of meditative states, or mindful playing in the performance of music. It is an essential factor (even if the practitioner is unaware of what is really happening in the process of improvising) that needs research and practice, just as much as developing playing technique does. And what i hope this article will inspire is an enquiry into the relevance of all other aspects involved in spiritual practice, and not just mindfulness. Letting go, empathy etc, are all just as important, in my view. I find that this benefits the creative act, the quality of a performance, and the deep connection created with audience and performance space.
In a very personal, solo project called ‘sounding out’, I have been, over the years, recording improvisations in a number of outdoor sites – that is outside of the studio’s controlled environment.
The principle was at first to improvise with natural acoustics, interact with the sonic environment, and then developed into something much more – that is hard to describe with words. Just like true spirituality cannot be defined, it can only be hinted at with guidelines so the practitioner finds their own path. This is purely because meditation is a state that resides entirely outside the realm of intellectual analysis, outside language, outside the Imaginary or the Symbolic. It is pure experience, valid cognition in direct contact with what Lacan calls the Real.
This can only be achieved when a number of circumstances converge so that no distraction, emotional context, external pressures etc. take away the necessary complete focus and balance. Gradually, the mind clears, just like sediments settle and murky water becomes translucent. It takes time and discipline, just like the practice of music.
There have been very special places, with outstanding acoustics, but mostly with a certain quality of energy, that take me there. In such places, surrounded in the powerful atmosphere, from sounding out the first note, suddenly, i am suspended in the vibe, the resonance, the vibrations that hover and fill the space. Boundless, weightless spaciousness. Out of the deep connection, communication, and empathy required to improvise, blissfulness arises.
All is sound, all is vibrations. All is empty. Emptiness is form, form is emptiness. And the only reality feels like compassion because compassion is the very nature of life and creativity.
The space where I play expresses itself and vibrates the ‘soul’. Music plays itself. Narratives form and follow their own paths. There is no style in improvisation because form is empty. Even the idea of style becomes irrelevant. No desire. Vibrations arise and interact. Music is communication. This is the natural order of things. It is pure physics.
Sounding out is not improvisation on acoustics or birdsong. It is letting the rock and the walls of sacred sites sing through my instrument. It is the music of that place, at that moment. It is meditation on the now. It is being the now, being the place. It is telling its story, not mine.
To truly improvise, in the purist sense, one has to be a skilled musician, but also an experienced meditator.
You have to be willing to let go. You have to listen.
You have to let the music flow.
You have to let the instrument play itself.
You have to let go of ego, and accept to merely channel the music of the moment and of the place. Only then you have true communication and unity, harmony.
All the theory and the practice that we are so attached to are, in the end, just there in the hope that you are good enough a musician to be able to keep up with what’s going on. All those years of practice are summed up right there. It is the only preparation, the only net not to fall flat on your face and try to keep up with the flow.
Control, security, certainty, performing excellency and predictability are all illusions that form the ground for commercial, commodified entertainment. It is not life, it is not music and it is certainly not improvisation. Art is taking risks. And this requires complete focus and understanding (balance, rather than control). Ride the wave my friends, surf the flow of life. Enjoy the journey cos there is no good, no bad, theory, no expectation, style or anything to burden your mind with.
Only a peaceful clear mind can be completely and truly creative. The energy that is transmitted is what creates enjoyment in the listener.
Improvisation, like compassion, is life.
Be happy my friends. Meditate. Ride the wave.
Peace.
Hervé Perez
28 august 2015
Bibliography
Butcher, John. le son du grisli: hors-serie no.9 – 40 page illustrated A to Z. 2012
Csíkszentmihályi, Mihály. Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience. New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1990
Coleman, Steve. http://members.m-base.net/
Day, Kiku. Mindful playing, mindful practice: The shakuhachi as a modern meditation tool. 2014
Hancock, Herbie. Harvard lecture series
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EPFXC3q1tTg&list=PLFT-q6IUNLEEIdVFXylP8q41axib6ycOn
Heart Sutra. Traditional Buddhist scriptures. Many publications and comments also avail. online from reliable Buddhist sites such as
See the 3-days lectures by HH the Dalai Lama
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRJ2WFcHPcA
and
Chandrakirti. Introduction to the Middle Way. Boston and London: Shambala publications, 2004.
Lacan, Jacques. The Real, the Imaginary and the Symbolic.
In
The Seminar of Jacques Lacan, Book I: Freud’s Papers on Technique (ed. J-A Miller), N.Y.: Norton, 1988
Lash, Dominic. Syntactics, 2006
http://forceofcircumstance.blogspot.co.uk/2015/09/derek-bailey-syntactics.html
Lee, Bruce. The Tao of Jeet Kune Do. Ohara Publications, 1975
Oliveiros, Pauline. Deep listening institute workshops.
http://deeplistening.org/site/
Sounding Out.
https://nexttimestudio.wordpress.com/category/music/sounding-out/
https://soundcloud.com/herveperez
nexttime studio 