In April I attended the Charlotte Jazz Festival (a new festival with a considerable amount of promise). On the first evening I heard an ensemble performance in which the pianist doubled on harmonica. In a particularly lively number he would frequently have to move back and forth between the two instruments. On one occasion he had considerable difficulty getting the harmonica out of his hand so he could attend, with both hands, to the demands of the piano part. While extricating himself from the harmonica he did what all good jazz pianists do, played the essential notes with his other hand until both were available. This is not particularly unusual, especially in jazz piano. What made it stand out in my mind was that he was clearly not prepared for the extra difficulty he was having. Nevertheless, he made it work for the ensemble and I doubt if many who could not see his hands knew what was going on.
Knowing what’s essential as opposed to valuable or even “nice” is a critical skill in jazz. While I am a deep lover of jazz, lack of this ability is one of the things that kept me from being a better than marginally adequate trumpeter all those years ago. I was hopelessly glued to the score in front of me.
Organizational function often demands spontaneous improvisation in the face of change or unforeseen emergencies. At such moments, an awareness of what’s essential–what the fundamental priorities are–will guide decisions about what to keep after and what to let go (temporarily) and keep things afloat. Doing so demands planning ahead of time to identify what must be done. The to-do list is not an undifferentiated whole. All planning should include identification of the one, two, or three things that are non-optional. Moments of crisis also demand the ability to let things slide temporarily while keeping the music going. And, of course, if the temporary becomes the long-term, it’s time to go back to the planning drawing board.
Engage!
Doug
Photo: Some rights reserved by Bsivad
Carter Gillies says
In the immortal words of mike Tyson, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.” Its the improvising after the plan has gone to hell that stands the chance of survival. And as you suggest, that fluency is a requisite of mastery. Knowing the basics of how to play the notes is not the same as knowing when to play them and how to play them qualitatively, and even the silences in between have value. Sometimes the art is not just knowing what to include but what to leave out (as a 3-D artist this is a huge lesson I am continually learning).