Commencement Address, 5/18/06

To The Graduates

New School For Jazz And Contemporary Music

by Kirk Nurock NYC May 18, 2006

[excerpted]

[Congratulations to the graduates and their families. Greetings to Program Director Martin Mueller, esteemed guest Mr. Bob Hurwitz, &c. Short reminiscences of our classes together.]

Honorandus ab omnibus hominibus. This quote is from the Hippocratic oath doctors take at their graduations. "...a member of society with special obligations to my fellow human beings." Hippocrates wrote it in 440 BC. It's about ethics and morality. It says--among other things--that doctors shall follow a spiritual calling as they have been put on earth as healers.

Of course we in the arts also follow a calling...one so powerful that many of us felt it even in childhood. So I find myself wondering at your graduation, might there be some oath for musicians to take, to honor our calling. And--in some larger sense--why were we artists put here?

In our culture, artists seem to cultivate a kind of emotional awareness. We create heightened states of perception that can open the human mind and heart, allowing for enhanced inner reflection. We can also amuse, provoke, challenge...I like David Liebman's term "edu-tainment."

But let's get a broader musical perspective as we look back again to the Ancients.

It was Pythagoras who discovered the overtone series in 550 BC. He also studied the planets and calculated that there was a kind of "music of the spheres"--deeply haunting dronings and ringings that he said continue throughout all time. Moreover, he found that their pitches are related to our overtone series and algebraically linked to human music and hearing.

It seems we musicians derive from this. It's as if we are all particularly tuned to the sonic universe and are here to continue creating its music. If doctors heal, musicians resonate.

Score Reading and Analysis

[Guidelines to a course I teach at the New School Jazz Program.]

Reading a new score is a gradual process. No one can read all the lines at once--the human mind just won’t take in all that information. So a score must be studied, layer-by-layer. As each composer is different, we examine their specific notations, motivic ideas, harmonic language, orchestrational elements and more. The process is a bit detective-like. We tread slowly, sleuthing out many details, putting the big picture together as we go.

General Approach To A New Piece

1. Read the instrumentation first. Imagine the overall sound and the physical presence of this ensemble in a big studio. Is the score in concert or transposed? (Most are transposed.) Absence of key signatures does not necessarily mean the piece is in concert. It may require some further examining--comparing chord symbols to horn lines, etc. Listen/look for the logic.

2. If a recording is available, listen to the full piece and follow the score in a very general fashion. At first simply let your eye jump around. Rather than following one line, move all around, looking for where the “action” seems to be in each passage.

3. While listening again, take a pencil and look for the prominent melodic elements; mark them lightly with little m’s. Listen yet again, and as you’re becoming more familiar with the content of the piece, look for accompaniment figures, counterlines and any other distinctive elements. Mark these with any shorthand of your choosing. (You could use bg for background, cp for counterpoint, etc.) Often one element is orchestrated on a variety of instruments and appears on several lines. Simply catch and mark what you can. Later notice the others.

Analyzing Jazz Tunes

[Guidelines to a class I teach at the New School Jazz Program]

So often in jazz, we take the tune for granted. We know we like a given tune, often for it’s changes, and we have fun playing the head in unison with others. But underneath, we’re really interested in the solos--our own and everyone else’s.

Often, the great standards we use as vehicles for our own improvisation are perfectly-composed gems. A lesson in economy, song form is so short (compared to a symphonic movement, for example) that every idea in it must be sculpted with great awareness. This holds true for tunes by jazz heroes like Miles or Monk, as well as beloved “Tin Pan Alley” writers like Gershwin and Berlin. These composers have so much craft and their tunes flow so smoothly, that it’s all too easy to just let the head flow by, assuming it will “speak for itself." And it does.

But suppose we go deeper? Suppose we ask “how did the composer come up with these themes and why did s/he develop them in exactly these ways?” Why do I dig it so much when it gets to this phrase? Indeed, in the great tunes, every note counts. The rhythm counts and yes, the harmonies count. When we probe further, even the rests count.

Shaping A Jazz Solo

Ways of Shaping a Solo
[originally intended in context of ongoing lessons/classes]

Once a composition has been analyzed, and the harmonies arpeggiated and practiced, we can begin to look at shaping a solo from some traditional and less-traditional views.

1. An understated, lyrical approach. Play long tones, spread over more than one bar whenever possible. “Miles-like” in nature, this approach can create alluring “stillness” effects. It’s challenging to look over the changes and find the notes that will work. As always, 3rds and 7ths will enhance the essence of each chord and upper extentions will bring color. Work to find surprising notes, including “dissonant appoggiaturas” that resolve when you’re ready.

2. Motivic development. Leaving much space in the 1st chorus, begin with one strong motivic phrase. Use only it or mostly it, varying a bit as you go. 16 bars later, it may be time to move on to another motif as contrast. See how long you can stretch 1 or 2 motivic ideas and their variations. This tends to create a “thoughtful,” intelligent feeling. But humor, intensity and many other moods can be created. Another approach can be to free-associate for a brief while until you “happen upon” a motif you really like; then begin the above process. (Sometimes it’s hard to immediately find a motif you like.)

Thoughts Of An Incurable Jazz Pianist...

(from 10/30/01)

I play as many wrong notes as I can. Everyone else plays the right notes quite beautifully. What could I possibly add?

Sometimes I prefer not playing with other musicians. I can barely follow what's happening in my own head, let alone theirs.

A piano isn't an instrument. It's a destiny.

I feel a hell of a lot younger at 50 than I did at 19: one of the many gifts of a life in music.

Most musicians play what they've already heard. Why not strive to play what we haven't heard yet?

I think the question of whether or not a person is Black should be determined by something other than the color of their skin.

Making honest music involves no less than getting completely naked. If you're keeping those undershorts on, you didn't get there yet.

I don't care about the quality of an artist's work, or whether it speaks to my narrow tastes. Everytime someone does something creative on the face of this earth, I think "Yes!--that's one more for our side!"

[with hat off to Groucho:] I didn't always play like an idiot--it's taken years of practice.

In 2001, there's no longer such a thing as American music or Russian music, Black music or (God help us) Gay music. It's all been blended. Pure music floats on air like the angels. It loses all its power when reduced to the false boundaries of civilization.

Speaking of false boundaries, I want to start an all Jewish big band. It would be called "All Jews Have Horns."