I'm currently suffering from the Beat City Blues; a symptom of being lost in the process of writing my Thesis.
I'm trying to get "super-"motivated to get this done with. I started reading blogs about authors/books/poems related to my paper and stumbled across a particularly fascinating remix of Jack Kerouac's "Lucien Midnight" done by DJ Bamboo. Take some time and listen to this interesting mashup of sounds.
Me playing with The Stanton Street Collective (2010)
In most depictions in popular culture, Sherlock Holmes would enter his “mind palace” by playing his violin (or, at least that’s the way I understood it). It would become a pure act of meditation - as natural as breathing. I can completely understand this; when I play my saxophone, I enter another realm of being - of meditation, of creation. It’s spectacular!
I think there is much to be said about the connection between 'breathing' and creation, much as it is to meditation. Part of my Master's (and possible PhD thesis) considers the necessity of breath (whether it be literal, or more figurative) in spontaneous arts (poetry, music, painting, dance, freestyling, etc). One of my best friends, helped me think a bit further in this regard after he posted a deep and insightful piece on the benefits of freestyling in: "9 Healthy Reasons to Freestyle"
Even more recently, I wrote my reflections on the passing of El Paso legend, Art Lewis, and after reading a story about the type of connection he had with his music, I understoodit. There is a Zen quality to be realized in those moments in which a musician (or dancer, poet, artist, etc) gets LOST in their craft. It is both an actualization of being in the ever-present moment as the Universe unfolds before you - while simultaneously -- deconstructing the Universe to create a sense of Nothingness, that is, a sense of "formlessness." If you want to see any of the healthy reasons for being formless, please consider reading the "Tao Te Ching" by Lao Tzu, "Free Play: Improvisation in the Arts" by Stephen Nachmanovitch, "Striking Thoughts" by Bruce Lee, or even "The Essentials of Modern Spontaneous Prose" by Jack Kerouac. (Note: This is not intended to be a definitive list; in a much larger bibliography my sources would be more rounded and inclusive)
When I think of that moment of getting lost in the profound depth of creation and innovation, I think back to the certain stories from the age of jazz and bebop; stories that have been told, and re-told, but continue to resonate powerfully through our consciousness because of that small, kernel of....something.
The first is the story of Big Jay Macneely, driving an LA audience wild during one of his legendary live solos in which he ran around, fell to his knees, and played on his back to an audience who was hanging on to every chord, every note, every bop and wail. Big Jay was the epitome of a Pied Piper of Cool...Below is one of my favorite captured images taken that night:
Big Jay McNeely, Los Angeles, 1951 (photo: Bob Wiloughby)
What strikes me as remarkable about this photograph (aside from the sheer excellence in timing and positioning) are the genuine expressions of raw emotion. Big Jay is "in the zone," most likely in another dimension as he plays to a more than grateful crowd. The Pied-Piper of Cool.
My second story, is closely related. It's another story of a legendary saxophone solo that drove the audience to the verge of rioting from pure excitement; one of the most famous solos in the history of Jazz. In 1956, Duke Ellington and his Orchestra played at the Newport Jazz Festival. The band starts playing the song "Diminuendo in Blue," everything seems normal, the band is jiving, and so on. THEN about 4 minutes in, Paul Gonsalves (on Tenor Sax) starts to solo in order to bridge into the song "Crescendo in Blue." Gonsalves enters smoothly, playing as he always does. Second by second, as the solo progresses, people start chanting from the crowd. As legend states, a young blonde woman in a stylish black dress sprung out of her box seat and began to dance. By the sixth minute the audience is starting to erupt - broken from their facades, the crowd rushed from their seats and toward the stage as they start dancing, whistling, and roaring Gonsalves on. Being the musical genius that he is, Ellington notices this and urges Gonsalves to just KEEP ON PLAYING! He went on to play for a blistering 27 choruses and the creation of one of Jazz's best told stories.
Paul Gonsalves, in Milano (Photo: Robert Polillo)
Below is a recording of "Diminuendo and Crescendo in Blue" by Ellington and his Orchestra Live at Newport on that fateful night:
For many, music is a very powerful event; especially when an artist is able to connect somehow to the listener. For me, when a musician gets lost in the music and vice-versa, every motion, every utterance is the music of the soul made visible. Stephen Nachmanovitch writes:
"there is an old Sanskrit word, Lila (Leela), which means play. Richer than our word, it means
divine play, the play of creation and destruction...it means love. Lila may be the simplest thing there
is -- spontaneous, childish, disarming. But as we grow and experience the complexities of life, it
may also be the most difficult and hard won achievement imaginable, and its coming to fruition is a
kind of homecoming to our true selves."
I haven't even mentioned the drum circle group that i've been playing with for several years! I'll tell the story of how I came to join this group at some other point, but to me, the type of creation and improvisation found in these drum circles invokes the very essence of that concept, Lila.
An Echoes in the Park drum circle, El Paso, TX, 2011 (Photo: Jenna Martin)
Playing with this drum circle group has been exhilarating and life-changing -- it has really allowed me to mature and explore as an artist; more importantly I've created friendships based on a mutual love for expression and rhythm.
Through rhythm we can temporarily leave the plane of language and concepts. This process of liberation allows us to enter a realm of risk, instinct, and improvisation. We are living in the now, the present-moment. It is then that our bodies talk to us, manifested in the forms of art, dance and music.
More importantly, we are connecting to others through rhythm and music. As Nachmanovitch suggests, “Shared art making is, in and of itself, the expression of, the vehicle for, and the stimulus of human relationships.” We must liberate ourselves through self-expression while also relearning how to listen, especially to others. This promotes the integration of the different parts – of the individual or of the group – that moves together from silence into a cosmic dance.
Now...breathe.
When do you feel like you are at your most creative? Please share your thoughts and experiences! :D
Art Lewis playing his horn - (photo by Cesar Ivan)
Art Lewis passed away today, an El Paso icon and legend. The line, we wll remember you, esse is borrowed from another legend in his own right, poet raulrsalinas, and his poem "Bass in Yo Face" of which Art once played along with as part of the composition. I wanted to dedicate some time to reflect on Art and his legacy. I remember growing up wanting to learn the saxophone, so, I started to take lessons from a college sax player. I remember early on, he asked me who my influences were and I was nonplussed - nobody had every made me consider such a thing. Without an answer he challenged me to walk into a music store and casually start listening to more artists and music. Walking into the CD store, I decided to browse through the jazz section to see what I could find. I don't remember how, I ended up there but I ended up picking out one of Art's CD's in the local music section. "El Paso Art." I was definitely in love with the music. That was a great album; mixing blues with a taste of latin jazz. He easily became one of my personal influences. Unfortunately, I never had the chance to know him personally. Now that I'm a little bit familiar (and even part of) the El Paso culture scene, thankfully I do know others who have had the pleasure of knowning him and experiencing his own Art. During the process of writing this blog, I wanted to see what some of El Paso's writer's thought about Art. I came across several different accounts and stories, but my favorite was easily a story related by El Paso poet, Bobby Bird, about a conversation he once had with Art:
Every day Art Lewis stepped into the river of his life and prayed into his saxophone. He prayed jazz. Improvisation was his devout way of life. His sacred horn was always blowing away the stifling air of fundamentalism. As far as Art was concerned, right and wrong, innocence and guilt--they were all notes in the same piece of music. Playing the sax was Art Lewis’ religious practice, and he had become a wise teacherman by following the path the saxophone had shown him.
“Music,” he announced, “holds many of the answers to the riddles about life and death.”
“Why doesn’t it hold all the answers?” I asked.
Art got that big wide smile on his face and said, “Because we don’t know all the questions.” He played a riff and added. “Besides, there aint no answers in the boogie-woogie. No answers anywhere in the be-bop. The jingle jangle is so empty of answers you’d go hungry if you got lost inside. The only answer we got is just us doing what we are doing. Like the dogs and the fishes. Like the homeless blowing down San Antonio Street like afternoon trash. That’s why I play my horn. I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing.” (excerpt from Byrd's Blog)
I quickly became a fan of this story, of the "wise teacherman" who followed "the path the saxophone had shown him." Knowing other stories from other musicians who played and collarborated with him, poets who were lucky enough to have their poetry sizzle with the serenade of sweet syrupy saxophone, and just others in general who appreciated El Paso culture and Art for the deep richness that it can be, I simply knew that Art was an amazing individual worthy of remembering. Tonight, I plan on playing out a couple of notes into the brisk city night in his honor - gracias por todo, jazzman!
So I play in a couple of bands but my recent project, The Hypocrite Orchestra has been playing all over the city. We play Reggae, Afrobeat, Ska, World, Pop, Jazz, and Hip-Hop infused music and just finished playing a USO show this week and we had a great time. I wanted to share the info for a show we are playing tonight at The Tequila Garage. Ernie T (of Radio La Chusma fame) will be opening with his project "Acoustic Roots." Sound on Sound will also be gracing the night with their presence. The show starts at 10, No Cover for 21+ ($5 for 18,19,20). If you don't have any plans for tonight, well now you do! SUPPORT LOCAL MUSIC ^_^ Below is the flyer:
