Thoughts On Performing, Focus, Zen, and Hayoun Leaving

Last night I played a great gig with Circles at the Annex Live, with Parc-X Trio opening for us.  This morning I had some thoughts about what might be the best way to direct one's mind while playing the sort of music Circles plays - music that is sometimes tricky technically, but is also very improvisational.  On the one hand, you are looking to be creative and play something new, but on the other hand, it isn't totally free - there are certain guidelines and things you need to get right. So there are two challenges. (Or at least two challenges, anyway!) So where do you direct your attention? How do you use your mind so that you can accept inspiration and hopefully make the music better in a subjective sense (e.g. more expressive, interesting, inspiring, etc.) while still keeping it of a high quality in an objective sense (e.g. playing the right notes, playing with good rhythm, playing in tune, etc.).


There are lots of things you could think about in trying to make a piece of music more expressive.  Sometimes I think about something which is emotionally evocative to me that I think connects with the feeling of the music somehow. For example, if it is a love song, I could think about someone I love and how I feel about them. Or, for example last night was the last gig Circles will play with our piano player Hayoun Lee before he moves to Korea, so I was thinking about that sometimes. But that sort of thinking is kind of dangerous - it is easy (for me anyway) to get off on some train of thought, and before you know it, I've missed a shot or a chord or something. On the other hand, it can be helpful - it can give a little inspiring boost of emotional intensity.  I think it is best if kept very abstract, for example, just calling a person or situation to mind, without thinking about any specific issues or ideas that relate.


Another thing you can think about is planning ahead in the song. Like at one point last night when we were playing the song Little Candles Hayoun was on his third chorus, and I had expected him to take only two (although I was glad he took an extra one because it was sounding great) so I was thinking "I really doubt he will take a fourth chorus, so that means the melody is almost certainly coming up after this chorus, and in rehearsal he built his solo up a lot at the end which sounded great going into the melody, so I'm going to try to build this even more and see if we can do something similar this time, but even better." This type of thinking is necessary to a certain extent, but again, it is easy for me to think too much, and then it takes me away from the music, and I'm liable to make a mistake.


I think the best way to focus your mind, especially with this kind of music, but it would probably apply to other types of music as well, is to listen to yourself and the other musicians. Focusing on listening solves many problems. First of all, only by listening carefully can you play in tune and with good rhythm. Secondly, it becomes like a meditation, and it clears the mind. You aren't thinking about ideas, so you don't get lost in a train of thought. You stay focused. Thirdly, you experience what your fellow musicians are playing, and instead of just having your own ideas about what should happen next, you can pick up on theirs. You become a team.  Also you get energy and inspiration from them. Whoever seems most inspired at any given moment, you can listen to what they are playing and draw from that. Then later on at some other point, maybe you will lend them some of your energy. Fourth, by listening, you focus on the present moment, rather then creating expectations about what will happen next. Of course, unless you are playing totally "free" music, you always have some plan or expectation of what will happen next - e.g., we're going to follow this chord progression, this form, etc. - but if you sort of leave thinking about that up to the periphery of your mind, and focus on the present moment, then you have the possibility of being very spontaneous. It can seem like magic. For example, the band suddenly becomes quiet, or loud, or you realize that in one beat, the drums are going to decide to drop out, so you drop out with them. Of course this type of "magic" comes not only from being very focused in the moment but also from playing together a lot, so that you develop a group intuition.


I see this all as relating sort of to my meditation practice (I've done Zen meditation with varying degrees of regularity over the past fourteen years).  I know other jazz musicians have been inspired by Zen, for example Bill Evans and bass players Scott LaFaro and Gary Peacock, both idols of mine. I've noticed that on the rare and precious occasions when through meditation I manage to achieve a fairly clear mind, everything I experience becomes beauty.  Sights, sounds, tastes - even the most "mundane" - everything is wonderfully beautiful. I've come to suspect that the experience of what we call "beauty" is a byproduct of all perception, but usually our perception is somewhat dull, and the lessened beauty-experience is covered up by our distracted and cluttered mind. When the mind becomes clear, perception is enhanced because more mental resources can be directed to it, and the clutter is removed, so you notice the beauty-experience, which is more powerful. I'm reminded of the quote by Henry David Thoreau: "You cannot perceive beauty, but with a serene mind."  Just as I've found that a clear mind precipitates beauty, I've also found it goes the other way - that strong aesthetic experiences create a clear mind. I'm sure many people have experienced this - we see or hear a beautiful work of art, and we're awestruck, and our mind just empties of its own accord.

On an even deeper level, I think that you have to trust that even without thinking about meaning, it is there. In the present moment, everything that makes me who I am is there. So if I'm playing a ballad or a love song, I don't have to deliberately decide "okay, I'm going to think about my girlfriend now" for my relationship and my experiences with my girlfriend to inspire my playing. Those neuro-connections are there no matter what I do. If I try to deliberately express something, perhaps that is less honest then if I just focus on the moment and "allow" something to be expressed - even if I never really know what it is. It all happens on a level below (or beyond?) conscious thought. If you have this kind of trust, either as a performer or a listener, the music takes on a depth of meaning beyond what you can put into words, or even understand with your thinking mind.

I think those two things - the possibility of real spontaneity, especially as a group, and the trust that everything that I've ever thought or felt is present in each moment somehow - is what is most exciting for me about this approach of focusing on listening combined with performing improvisational music. If I'm open and receptive, amazing and unexpected things could happen! And I don't mean just musically, but emotionally and spiritually as well. That makes me excited, and before long I'm drawn into a creative flow. Also, the whole "beauty-experience" is very inspiring for me.

But sometimes things don't feel inspiring. If things aren't "happening", then I think it is best to just focus on listening and do your job, which for me as a bass player means keep the form, play the roots, play with good rhythm, play in tune, etc. If you clear your mind and focus on listening, maybe you will tap into the sources of inspiration mentioned above - maybe not.  At any rate, you need to do your job.  Because that's the other side of the whole experience - even though it is so amazing and profound, at the same time it is very ordinary and mundane. Perhaps this is expressed by this Chinese poem:

Rozan famous for its misty mountains;
Sekko for its water.
When I could not see them,
never was I free from the pain of longing!

I went and I returned.
It was nothing special:
Rozan famous for its misty mountains;
Sekko for its water.

Or by a famous Zen saying: “Before enlightenment: Chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment: Chop wood, carry water.” Or, to quote a more contemporary, western voice:

There's nothing you can do that can't be done.
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.

Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time - it's easy.

I once asked Hayoun what he thought about while he played, and he told me that he sort of meditated on the sound of the ensemble. Maybe that is when I first started thinking about these ideas. I've always been very inspired by Hayoun's approach to playing music because it seems to me that he's always been very dedicated to making music from a space of being present and open to possibilities, and I think that makes the whole experience of his art richly meaningful and exciting. That's my impression anyway - Hayoun is a man of many thoughts and few words (unlike me, as this blog post evidences!).  Hayoun certainly plays unexpected things sometimes, which keeps me on my toes. Check out his blog to gain some insight into his thinking. I'm certainly going to miss him when he moves to Korea in a few days. I'll look forward to the next time we play together - whenever and wherever the universe decides that will be!

P.S. I'd love to hear what other artists or art lovers thought about this subject. Post a comment!

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Creativity in Music Composition (U of T Masterclass)

I just got back from doing a master class for the jazz department at U of T.  I think it went pretty well! The presentation was about creativity in music composition, and how fears and anxiety can get it the way of that. Here is a link to download the slides that I used.


Here are links to the two videos I played clips from:

• A TED Talk by Elizabeth Gilbert on nurturing creativity by externalizing inspiration.
• Louis CK speaking at a memorial for George Carlin, expressing how he was inspired by George's prolificness.

These are the posts on my blog that contributed to the presentation in some way. I'd recommend the "Wrap Up and Analysis" as a good place to start if you aren't looking for anything specific.  It includes a list of all the books that were recommended to me during the interviews.

• Composers' Process Project: Wrap Up and Analysis
• Interview with Composer Christine Bougie
• Interview with Composer Allan Gilliland
• Interview with Composer David Binney
• Interview with Composer Andrew Downing
• Interview with Composer Dave Wall
• Writer's Block and "A Song of Ice and Fire"
• An Interview With Myself About Composition
• Books About Creativity That I Love (or at least own)
• Rest and Play: Enjoying Getting Stuff Done

If anyone has any feedback or other ideas or resources about composition or creativity, I'd love to hear about it - post a comment!

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Jazz Mind, Beginners Mind

(This is actually something I posted to my Facebook page a while ago, but I thought I'd re-post it here, since it seems relevant.)

Lately I was re-reading a chapter from one of my favorite books, "Zen Mind Beginner's Mind", by Shunryu Suzuki, and I was stuck by it in a new way - I saw how it relates to my music practise. When I first started learning the double bass, I felt I had virtually no skill and everything to learn. Although this was very stressful for me, I practised hard and eventually saw some dramatic improvements. I didn't become a virtuoso, but in a two or three years I went from having a poor sense of time and being virtually tone-deaf to having a reasonable concept on the instrument. Since then, however, I think I have seen a gradual reduction in my rate of improvement. I've been practising the same things for years now and not improving so dramatically. When I first started, everything seemed extremely hard to me. Now I tend to practice things that seem fairly easy to me, with the hope of perfecting them. However, if I was really aiming for perfection, then they I would still regard them as hard, because perfection is very hard to obtain! I think this subtle difference in attitude, together with simply less hours put into practicing due to a lessened sense of urgency (the threat of getting kicked out of Grant MacEwan College for failing my technical jury no longer looms over my head), may be responsible for the diminishing returns I've been experiencing. Basically what I am saying is I think every time I practise it should seem "hard" to me, whether that is because it is something new which I actually can not execute presentably, or because it is something I am aiming to master perfectly. I want to feel like a beginner every time I pick up the bass. But that's kind of a tricky thing, isn't it?

Here an excerpt from the original lecture, which was given after a meditation session. I see further implications for music, beyond just technique, into creativity as well. I would highly recommend buying the book, it contains many other fascinating insights into life and art. You have to excuse his broken english - it isn't his first language.

"We say, "Sho shin." "Sho shin" means "Beginner's mind." If we can keep beginner's mind always, that is the goal of our practice. We recited Prajna Paramita Sutra this morning only once. I think we recited very well, but what will happen to us if we recite twice, three times, four time, and more? Then we will easily lose our attitude in reciting -- original attitude in reciting -- the sutra. Same thing will happen to us. For awhile we will keep our beginner's mind in your Zen practice but if we continue to practice one year, two years, three years, or more, we will have some improvement, and we will lose the limitless meaning of the original mind. In beginner's mind we have many possibilities, but in expert mind there is not much possibility. So in our practice it is important to resume to our original mind, or inmost mind, which we, ourselves -- even we, ourselves do not know what it is. This is the most important thing for us. The founder of our school emphasized this point. We have to remain always beginner's mind. This is the secret of Zen, and secret of various practices -- practice of flower arrangement, practice of Japanese singing, and various art. If we keep our beginner's mind we keep our precepts. When we lose our beginner's mind we will lose all the precepts."

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Perez/Patitucci/Blade Workshop: Perseverance toward light beyond any darkness

The Wayne Shorter Quartet after their concert Sat night.

I recently attended a free workshop at Koerner Hall, the beautiful concert hall inside the new RCM building here in Toronto. The workshop was sponsored by the music programs of both U of T and Humber, as well as Yamaha Music Canada. Tim Ries helped to facilitate it happening.

The workshop was given by the rhythm section for Wayne Shorter's current quartet, Danilo Perez (piano), John Patitucci (bass), and Brian Blade (drums).  It was the most moving and inspiring clinic that I can recall attending. Everyone I spoke with afterwards seemed very moved; at times Danilo, John, and Brian seemed to get emotional themselves. Many inspiring ideas and concepts were presented. I think I will be returning to it in the future when I am in need of inspiration. I may also be writing further blog posts about it!

Each of the three musicians brought a unique gift to the workshop.  Danilo was very entertaining with his humorous, self-effacing stories of challenges that Wayne posed to him. His was very warm and open.  Brian was very reverent and unafraid to express profound insights.  I found it inspiring to hear John talk about how he felt insecure as a younger player, and how he has grown and learned to deal with this.  Of course we all deal with insecurities, not only as musicians, but as human beings as well.

Generally what I found most inspiring about the clinic was how they talked about developing as a person and developing as a musician as going hand in hand.  That's inspiring to me, because obviously I want to do both, and I want all aspects of my life to feed into one another so that everything is mutually enriched.  Seeing music as a human journey seems more meaningful from the perspective of both the musician and listener.

I saw the concert with Wayne later that night, and I really enjoyed it.  However, I have to admit that at times it seemed so abstract that I found it difficult to latch onto.  Re-listening to the clinic, I noticed that several times they mention that they feel "not everyone is sensitive" to what they're putting out, but that if you can "tune into the frequency" then it is very intense.  Maybe I have to do some more work tuning in that frequency.

Here is an audio recording of the clinic (thanks to Tom Flemming for hooking me up with it). I contacted the management of Perez, Patitucci, and Blade and asked them for permission to post it to my website. The management for Blade and Patitucci said it was okay. (John even thanked me for my kind words and expressed how moved he was by the response to the concert last Saturday.) I didn't hear back from the management for Perez. If I do hear back from them that he doesn't want this recording up here, I'll take it down.

If you don't have time to listen to the entire recording, I have included below a written transcription of some of my favorite parts, which include time references in case you find a bit you really like and want to hear them actually say it. I also included some notes on the actions on stage, in case you are listening to the audio without having attended the clinic.  You can also download an mp3 by clicking on the down arrow in the widget.

Perez-Patitucci-Blade Workshop Koerner Hall Toronto Ontario Feb 12 2011


13:21 JP: We are friends on a deep level, and have shared a lot of experiences in life and music together. So that empathy, and joy, and communication that we share in the music is really an outgrowth of what we share when we have to go through days like today, where we take two flights and get up at 5 o'clock in the morning.

18:02 BB: When John talks about empathy or commitment when it comes to playing music together it really comes down to that trust, to be able to take a chance. Obviously we all have to have that conviction inside to be able to embrace the time with your own hands and with your own body. But to be able to share that, then I think freedom comes from that commitment. I feel like I can do anything and they will wrap it in a bow. Hopefully they feel like they can do anything and there will be a response, someone to look and give an agreement to it.

21:09 DP: I am still scared. This is a situation of really truly not knowing what's going to happen. The only instruction you have is "flying" and "go to galaxy".

21:40 Danilo talks about his first experience with Wayne, during the recording session for Alegria, and trying to put "water" into chords.

25:57 BB: That cumulative time spent together, and having all those unspoken things develop... I hope everyone has at least one other person that they have some relationship with where they can make music... to have that reflection and for someone to just give you a look, and maybe you're dragging a little.

Wayne, he wants you to take off, and fly. Which is scary, like Danilo says, but liberating too.

32:10 Danilo is miming Wayne leaning on the piano and looking sort of bored or disinterested.

47:35 BB: You're always trying to get to that next plateu, and then you reach that, and it's never enough. You always want to see what's higher. So the only way to do that is to make it a daily devotion.

50:25 DP: Music is supposed to bring us together, music is supposed to heal, music is supposed to play such a role. I really reconnected with this. I think it is important you reconnect with what brought you all the way to where you are. To really think about why you are doing music.

51:45 DP: Gratitude and respect. When you have a great teacher, and someone who is helping you, always stay with gratitude. Every time you have those values, instead of thinking "Oh I'm going to play what I practised!" you think "Oh my teacher was such a nice man, and he showed me this chord..." and you go "Wow!"

52:24 DP: Just remember, it's the human part. When we do this on and on, on an on, on and on, we are actually working [on ourselves?]: "Am I greedy?" "Do I want to just play alone - I don't want to play with people!" All this stuff comes out about you. "Am I egocentric? Am I just blowing on top of these people? Or are we playing with each other? Am I relating? Am I saying 'hi' to people?"  You learn if you take the opportunity to play with people as a human development, you learn a lot, and you know what to practise. It's about humanity, don't forget that.

53:43 JP: We're humbled by the fact that everyone here has gifts. If you're honest with yourself, playing music - I don't care where you get to - is very humbling, because there is always something else to work on. Being around these guys I learn a lot, and being around Wayne we all learn a tremendous amount, with his humility. And he's a genius. I can actually say this: "I'm not a genius, he is." and it doesn't bother me. I know when I was younger that used to bother me, when I heard somebody play something that was a lot better than me I would get all angry and everything. Except that would force me into the shed, and then later on I realized "Yeah, if you hear something great, just go back in the shed and work. And find out who you are and what you do."

55:57 Question: In a few words, what have you learned from playing with Wayne?
BB: [long pause] I guess I've learned about perseverance toward light beyond any darkness that might come into your life. Beyond anything that might want to make you quit. Quit life. That your fire remains burning and you keep putting another note on the page, you keep lifting that horn. Seeing him do that every night, hearing that sound, one note, hearing that sound - one note, it's over. It's like "God, thank you for this man."

57:37 JP: Wayne disarmed me at an early age. One time we were playing at the Bluenote and he played this amazing solo that would take you to another place, and then drop you off, and then he looked at me and said "Want some?" and I was like "No!" I had been playing with a lot of people - you know Chick, etc - and I just thought "I can't even say one word after that." And it made me reanalyze what it was about [a great solo that makes it great?].

59:58 DP: My life as a bachelor stopped. And Wayne was a big influence together with John, getting on my case. Because I had met the woman of my life and I was suavisito, not committed. And Wayne would drop things like "You know those kind of things creep in the music man, you know, you got to watch for them." And he would call me at 2 o'clock and be like "How are you doing? How's your wife?" Because he knew from the beginning that I was like "Oh yeah maybe, but she's got a temper." And he was like "Yeah that's what you need, someone to confront you!" "Oh I don't know about that..." "You just want it easy! That's courage. Courage, when you're willing to invest with somebody all of your life and go through the ups and downs that it takes. That's the practise that you bring into the band stand." The one lesson that really stuck with me is that we are used to having a band leader who only tell us about music. Wayne never talks about that. He talks about life all the time. He is probably the greatest leader I've ever worked with because he made me a better leader. I notice that with my band. I am not upset anymore; if someone makes a mistake, I try to make something of that. With my band I bring that kind of peacefulness that it takes for people to invest spiritually in the music. He taught us that. The only time we would see him upset is when we don't try hard enough and when we don't take chances. That's a sign of a great leader - to inspire leadership in other people.

1:03:04 DP: [On what Wayne said about playing with them.] This is the idea of playing with these guys. You are a little kid and you are missing the whole parade. The father is narrating the whole parade. You are like "Oh my God, I want to see it! I want to see it!" And all of the sudden, the father gets the energy, and he takes the kid and puts him on his shoulders.  And now the kid see what her father sees, and even farther away.


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Vulnerability and Connection In Music

I recently watched a TED talk by researcher/novelist/speaker Brene Brown on the subject of "The Power of Vulnerability". I found this talk very inspiring, and immediately thought of how these ideas could be applied in all sorts of situations.  These situations included more than just the area of interpersonal relationships (although I did immediately e-mail the link to my girlfriend Bryn). One really exciting thought was about how these ideas could apply to making music, and art in general.

Maybe I should back up here and tell you the gist of what the video is about.  Dr. Brown is a researcher who has spent over a decade collecting peoples' personal stories about connection, and then analyzing them to understand the reasons why human beings do or do not feel connection.  What she found was that one of the biggest reasons we do not feel connection is shame, which she defined as the fear of disconnection. People who do have a strong sense of connection tend to be those who do not feel shame as intensely because they have an intrinsic belief that they are worthy of love and belonging. Furthermore, she goes on to say that they have three other things: courage (which she defines as the ability to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart), compassion (for themselves and others), and connection as a result of authenticity (that is, they naturally act in a way that reveals their true self, which inspires others to do the same, resulting in the opportunity for connection).

Isn't connection exactly what we as musicians - or as artists - are striving for?  But it is easy to feel shame - the fear of disconnection - in relation to music or art-making.  Unfortunately, this fear leads to exactly what we are afraid of - making bad art.  For example, last week I visited New York City and sat in at the jam session at Smalls. I was very nervous to play in a jam session in New York for the first time, and the host gave me some very intimidating vibes before allowing me to play, so I was feeling a lot of "fear of disconnection" while I was playing - basically the fear that I wouldn't be accepted by the other musicians in the room.  Consequently, when it came time for me to solo, I had virtually no interest in saying anything profound, I just wanted to get through it without anyone thinking that I didn't deserve to be up there. I didn't make any attempt at developing my musical ideas, my hands shook, I think I may have lost the form... it was doubtlessly not a high point in the history of music, and may have even ended up making the other musicians think exactly what I didn't want them to.

I think this sort of thing happens all the time with musicians - fear getting in the way by causing bad musical decisions, difficulty focusing, etc. (I also find this "fear of disconnection" a hurdle while composing.) But the other side is that I think if a musician could come to terms with their fears, they might be able to achieve that "connection through authenticity" that Dr. Brown was talking about, except with their audience.  Not only would they make better musical decisions and be able to focus better, if they were able to convince the audience somehow - perhaps through their music and they way they acted - that they were presenting their real self in an unafraid way, I think that would likely result in some powerful musical experiences. I like this idea because it makes the job of making music seem very meaningful, since it would mean making good music involves developing and sharing skills (energies? vibes?) that are important to all aspects of human activity, not just music.

Anyway, check out the video, and I'd love to hear your comments!



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