Reappraising One's Pursuit

I've been doing a lot of thinking, since... August, really.

"What's this got to do with anything? It's the Potala Palace in Lhasa!" Just go with - it'll make sense soon!

I got away with my family then, and it afforded me some time to start digging into the serious territory known as, "What am I doing, why and I doing it and does any of that... really reflect where my values are now?" That can be some fairly heavy sledding and although a few days of that would usually suffice... that's not the been case. The process hasn't really ended and one conclusion didn't wrap it up. I find myself realizing that the latest thing I've come to accept about my own artistic leanings simply leads to another series of questions. I think it will get resolved, but it does mean, quite happily I think, that I'm not in some rut nor will I be and what's undeniably clear is that the landscape has changed utterly.

I've alluded to this in previous posts - whether I'm finding myself leaning towards unabashed tonality or increasingly disillusioned with the worlds of jazz and classical music; genres that no longer represent an ethos I grew up loving - now so obsessed with technical perfection at any cost that saying something - anything - to anybody is an afterthought at best. I'd always thought of myself as in league with what those styles represented, but now... I think they've overthought their own purpose and in doing so have become inescapably lost. They've become closed societies and, when you get right down to it, they're really not anything of which I really want to be a part. Everything I'm about is essentially a threat to that whole scene at this point - they don't want free thinkers - they only want people to create (if you can call what they do creating) academically approved work within carefully prescribed rules. None of that sounds artistic to me. It sounds like craftsmanship, more accurately, and it sounds like pedantic impulses run amok. It's a shame because the current group of young musicians are superlatively talented and yet, the music they're producing is frequently something less than an empty gesture. And another thought has occurred to me - virtually none of the music that I have truly found memorable over the years has been a virtuosic showpiece - the sort of thing composed to spotlight technical achievement - nor are my favorite and most treasured moments usually played by monster players doing something borderline impossible on their instruments. As a musician, you marvel at the craft on display but... that's not what music is about. I mean... it never has been and... you know that. That's self-evident.

So... It's clear I'm not part of the current pedantic movement (which is great news actually) and in fact... I don't even support any of that anymore. So where does that leave me? Well, I think our creative impulses in the musical sense always comes down to where our sensitivities take us - to what it is that's moving us emotionally. That's the only question that really matters. what are you hearing... that moves you... and distracts you! In the end that's the job! Touching... people who are not musicians! Taking them someplace else... where they dream a bit and consider the possible. And although I'm a musical person, I, like all of us, have to remain active listeners. So, for me, the music that distracts can sometimes be things with an improvisational element, but often it's stuff that's simply minimal and anything but academic. It's safe to say that I'm more interested in a single note in which I can live within its resonance than a whole cascade signifying nothing other than... their numerical abundance. I'm listening to a lot of Arvo Part again. I like a lot of music by people doing what is called "classical crossover" which I think means it's essentially classical music... that's somewhat accessible. I like a lot of downtempo electronica - instrumental stuff that may have a groove but relies heavily an ambient influences, but all of it... seems to love a drone. One big gorgeous note. As a trumpet player, I play a lot of long tones (30 second long held notes as part of one's warmup and technical part of the day) and you know what that leads to? A deep appreciation of the beauty to be found in that one big gorgeous note.

Have you ever heard Tibetan music - particularly the trumpets? The big ones? The tromba??? Can you imagine them playing from the Potala Palace at dawn? Hey, maybe it's a lousy experience, but I bet it lives up to what our imaginations can conjure at our most dreamy and optimistic.

I guess what I'm getting at is if these are the sorts of things that are inspiring me... why aren't I doing that, or something that inspires me like that, instead of worrying about what's expected by a crowd that is never going to accept me anyway? Especially when I don't even need or want that approval. I suppose the answer, at least partially, is that there was a time when I would have lived and died for that sort of approbation and acceptance but that... since the early 90's, I've been watching jazz become irreparably lost and disconnected from what it was - from what drew me to it in the first place. The intense divisions within the music - the various schisms etc are fights I really don't care to take part in any more, especially since they solve, as far as I can tell, not much of anything.

I'll also openly admit that knowing what you don't want to be doing is only part of the answer - that that's not enough to have an artistic direction - an aversion is not, by itself, a direction. Something needs to be affirmed. You need to at least know generally where you want to be going. Well, I know what I'm hearing as I mentioned with the list of somewhat related styles above and I also know that I'll be making it within the production environment I can do at home which will rely heavily on things you can do with synths and samplers and the addition of my horns and voice.

So, that's a start, but I also think nobody gets anywhere by waiting until they have some sort of perfect plan worked out before they produce some work. The journey of discovery, by itself - is about not having it all worked out. That's also an important part of all this - the uncertainty keeps things vital. I'm reminded of a great quote by E. L. Doctorow when describing this uncertainty in the creative process in regards to writing. Doctorow said:

"It's like driving a car at night. You never see further than your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way."

Yes! That's it, in large part! You don't have to have it all worked out - you only need to know what the next step is so that... you keep going down the road.