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Matt Roberts' Music Blog

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

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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Friday, February 4, 2011

Rest and Play: Enjoying Getting Stuff Done

It's been a while since my last post! It's too bad because there were actually a lot of things that I wanted to write about, but I got busy with other things, and now they aren't as fresh in my mind.  I'm going to try think about doing more frequent, shorter posts in the future.

Even though my last post was over a month ago, I'm still thinking about the ideas of Brene Brown.  I wrote my last post after watching her TED talk.  I have since read her book, The Gifts of Imperfection, and found it interesting, inspiring, and liberating.  In particular, I want to write a bit on my reaction to the chapter "Cultivating Play and Rest - Letting go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self worth."

In the chapter Dr. Brown proposes that "making the choice to rest and play is, at best, counterculture." Our society generally has been pushing to become more and more busy for many decades now. Speaking from my personal experience as a musician, I can relate to this twisted idea of "exhaustion as a status symbol" (although I think it is common to many professions). It seems that often when one musician asks another what they've been up to lately, the reply is laden with anxiety about being perceived as busy.  The anxiety seems to be that if a musician isn't extremely busy, they're boring, uninspired, disconnected from the music scene, and clearly not a person that other musicians would want to collaborate with.  Sometimes the question is simply stated as "Are you busy?" which is jazz-slang for "Do you have any gigs?" which is, in turn, jazz-slang for "Is your life worth living right now?" I recall one Facebook status update that a friend of mine made which boasted of an almost inhuman amount of music-related work that they were doing in a given amount of time.  I read the status with envy, but looking back on it now, I wonder if that is really something that is right for me to envy. Wouldn't that be incredibly stressful? Would they really be able to do their personal best at every one of those things? Sometimes when we try to do too much, this can lead to botching things up, and in the end it may have been better if we had not attempted any of it.  Speaking for myself, if the only time I feel adequate is when I'm extremely busy, then my choices are to either feel inadequate because I'm not busy enough, or to feel really stressed out - and probably inadequate as well anyway because I don't have time to do the things I'm doing properly.  My only reasonable avenue is to try to let go of this idea that I can't simultaneously have time for rest while being an inspired and talented musician. The reality is that being relaxed and rested no doubt encourages inspiration.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about the tricky phenomena of identity and the snags it can lead to.  For example, when I first started playing bass (at the innocent age of 16), I spent many hours a week practicing and jamming, all relatively free from worries about how good I was or how I compared to others.  Then in 2000 I started studying music full time, and I rapidly developed some intense anxieties around these subjects. I think some of this came from a shift in my identity - I started to think of myself not just as "someone who played music", but as a "real" musician.  The attitude was "This is my profession. I have to be good at this. I can't just fool around anymore." Now, ten years later, I've experienced a similar shift in thinking of myself as a "real" composer. The problem is that "just fooling around" - i.e. playing - is essential to the creative process. Dr. Brown quotes another researcher, Dr. Stuart Brown, in her chapter:
"'The opposite of play is not work - the opposite of play is depression.' He explains, 'Respecting our biologically programmed need for play can transform work. It can bring back excitement and newness to our job. Play helps us deal with difficulties, provides a sense of expansiveness, promotes mastery of our craft, and is an essential part of the creative process. Most important, true play that comes from our own inner needs and desires is the only path to finding lasting joy and satisfaction in our work. In the long run, work does not work without play.'"
Not every idea I think of when I'm trying to compose is going to seem like solid gold right away. But I've noticed that if I just allow myself to fool around with ideas, then often ideas I thought were bad will lead to good ones - although often in ways I didn't expect at first. If I insist that every idea that comes out of me holds up to my idea of a "professional composer", then I have a sure-fire recipe for writers block.

I now have a sticky-note on my computer monitor that says "PLAY" in large friendly letters, with a happy face underneath it. I think it is helping a bit!

Have you experienced anxieties related to your identity? How did that effect you? How did you deal with that? Can you think of other ways that rest and play can (paradoxically?) help us do more and better "work"? How do you balance your need for rest with your ambitions?

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Saturday, January 15, 2011

Circles "Southern Souls" Videoshoot

As I'm a big fan of Mitch Fillion's project Southern Souls, a collection of intimate videos of southern-Ontario bands, I was super excited when he agreed to film my group Circles. The shoot happened last Thursday in our friend Melissa Yu's living room (thanks Melissa!).  It was pretty fun, check out the results.

Autumn Dance


I Understand


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Monday, December 27, 2010

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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Friday, November 19, 2010

On Walking and Creativity

Sketches of Beethoven strolling in
the streets of Vienna
In her book The Creative Habit, Twyla Tharp describes the roll of walks in Beethoven's creative process: "Although he was not physically fit, Beethoven would start each day with the same ritual: a morning walk during which he would scribble into a pocket sketchbook the first rough notes of whatever musical idea inevitably entered his head."

Recently I've discovered walking myself. I mean, I've always walked, but usually only when it was completely unavoidable. Now I'm walking to stimulate my creativity. When I'm stuck for an idea, I'll grab my coat, a pen, and a large notepad, and go for a walk - so far I have always returned with the a few sheets covered in scribbled ideas. Recently I've been composing longer, through-composed works, so composing has become a bit more about planning and conceptualizing, which is work I can do without necessarily having an instrument nearby. However, I think walking could help with any creative endeavor. Rather than sitting in my room for hours while the walls slowly close in on me, walking helps change the scenery and stimulate my mind. Going for walks has come to seem so crucial to my creative process that the fear that I'll accidentally chop my fingers off and be unable to play bass has almost been supplanted by a new fear that I'll somehow destroy my legs and be unable to walk.

As proof of the effectiveness of walks in stimulating creativity, the following is a list in high praise of the virtues of walks, all gleamed from notes jotted down whilst meandering around myneighborhood on foot.

  • Walking reduces the pressure to come up with an idea right away - if you don't have an idea, just enjoy the walk! In fact, even if I didn't come up with a single idea, I think I would be much less upset than if I accomplished the same while sitting in front of a computer. At least while walking I gain fresh air, exercise, enjoyment, and knowledge of my neighbourhood.
  • By the same token, walking encourages one to think critically about the ideas you come up with, and to come up with multiple ideas. I have felt like I had come up with a good enough idea during a walk, only to come up with an even better idea while returning home. Often the first ideas we come up with are not the most creative; it is with the second, tenth, or fiftieth idea that we really begin to explore possibilities. When you're sitting in front of your computer or manuscript paper, there can be a strong temptation to charge ahead with the first idea you come up with.
  • Walking gets the heart and lungs working, which stimulates the flow of oxygen to the brain. I'm starting to feel it is very important to get the body moving if one wants to get ideas flowing.
  • Walking helps me to be present, which I think is vital to creativity. In order to walk safely, I have to take notice of my surroundings and what is happening in present moment. Often in my room I can become burdened with worries and anxieties. Walking is soothing.
  • While walking, you can get inspiration from the things you encounter. Messiaen transcribed bird calls, and Beethoven apparently once took inspiration for a melody from the sound of a stream. Here in Toronto the setting is a bit more urban, but there are still plenty of interesting things.
  • In a way, a walk is itself a metaphor for the creative process - each step is a creative decision, which then leads to the next descision, and so on, until you've created a walk. I already mentioned this quote in a comment on my previous post on composer's block: "improvisation is the courage to put one note in front of the other". When I'm walking, I try to make my walk a creative act - I walk different directions each time, and I try to make adventurous decisions - walking down alleys or down any paths that might look inviting.
In conclusion: huzzah for walks!

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Thursday, November 4, 2010

On Consistency, Winning Races, Zen, and Seinfeld Calendars

It's a cliche for teachers to emphasize it to their students: practice a bit every day. Fifteen minutes a day is better than two hours once a week. Slow and steady wins the race.  Consistency. 


Despite this, it wasn't until I started keeping track of and analyzing my own practice habits that this idea really hit home for me.  Of course I had already fully accepted the idea that if I wanted to get better, I'd have to spend lots of time practising.  (Perhaps you've heard of the 10 000 hour rule?) In order to motivate myself to practice more, I started keeping a spreadsheet of how many minutes I practiced each day.  This was a useful exercise, both motivationally, and in helping me understand my own habits.  The most glaring thing was that if I completely missed a day, it was very likely that this would start a streak - I would miss several days, in one case an entire month!  If you add to that the advantage of allowing your mind to absorb information gradually over several days, rather than in one intense session, it became obvious that focusing on practising at least little bit everyday was the best use of my energy.  Consistency was the key to increasing both my total practice time and effectiveness.


Soon afterwards, I became a cliche myself and started emphasizing consistent practice with my own students.  My new strategy for getting them to practice was to ask them to just take their instrument out of its case and play one note, everyday. If they wanted to do more, they were welcome to, but that was all that was required. I hoped that if I could instill in them this simple habit, they would begin to actually practice on their own.  I even went so far as to read a passage from "Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind", one of my favourite books, to one thirteen-year-old student:
If you lose the spirit of repetition it will become quite difficult, but it is not difficult if you are full of strength and vitality.
Several months later, I heard about  what has come to be called the "Seinfeld Calendar".  According to legend, the key to Seinfeld's success is that he has a giant wall calendar, and if he spends some time working on material, he marks an X on that day with a big red marker.  The idea is to get a chain going, and then "Don't break the chain."


I was smitten.  I enthusiastically set up not one, but four "Seinfeld calendars" - for practising bass, for composing, for exercising, and for meditating.  There are even more things I would love to have calendars for - practicing guitar, ear training, listening to music with full attention, promotion, reading a novel, etc.  However, I rightly guessed that just these four things would already be a lot for me.


My Seinfeld Calendars worked smashingly; for about two months I hardly missed a day on any of the four things.  Composing was a tricky one - it was hard to be creative when I felt I wasn't in the mood.  But I still found it encouraging, because at least I was dealing with "Oh my God, why can't I write anything?" rather than "Oh my God, I haven't even sat down to compose in weeks!"  I feel that with thoughtful, consistent effort, I'm working through the issues that come up; without my calendars, I might not even be getting to the issues. I set the bar pretty low - if I did even a little bit, I got my X. Eventually I decided to make the system more complicated - a black X if I did even a little bit, a blue X if I did a certain amount - for example, 45 minutes of practising or 20 minutes of meditation.  And a unicorn sticker if I got blue X's in all four things.  I was very into getting my X's.


Then one day, trouble came to my productivity paradise.  I was feeling very stressed - despite working hard everyday, it seemed my to-do list had been growing all week.  I was up late trying to get my "X" for composing, and not getting anywhere.  Finally I decided to give myself a break.  Forget about the "X" for a day.  I immediately felt so much better that I knew it was the right decision.  I took the next day off too.


I felt better, but unfortunately it also meant the start of a streak of not composing/exercising/ practising/meditating! And I chose those things because doing them keeps my life working the way I want it to work.  So, now I've realized the pros (increased productivity) and the cons (increaseed pressure) of the whole Seinfeld Calendar thing, and I've made an informed decision to get back on it. I'm loving it all over again. Also, in writing this blog entry, I've realized how self-obsessed the whole thing is. What a journey. I need to get out more.  Maybe I should make a calendar for that too?


P.S. If you want to try a Seinfeld Calendar of your own, but are low on wall space, this guy made a PDF that fits a whole year on one 8.5x11 sheet.


P.P.S. What is your trick for being productive? Would you give the Seinfeld Calendar a try? Leave a comment!

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