A sonic exploration and tonal analysis of contemporary creative music in a myriad of improvisational/composed settings, textures, and expressions.
Welcome to Sound Projections
I'm your host Kofi Natambu. This online magazine features the very best in contemporary creative music in this creative timezone NOW (the one we're living in) as well as that of the historical past. The purpose is to openly explore, examine, investigate, reflect on, studiously critique, and take opulent pleasure in the sonic and aural dimensions of human experience known and identified to us as MUSIC. I'm also interested in critically examining the wide range of ideas and opinions that govern our commodified notions of the production, consumption, marketing, and commercial exchange of organized sound(s) which largely define and thereby (over)determine our present relationships to music in the general political economy and culture.
Thus this magazine will strive to critically question and go beyond the conventional imposed notions
and categories of what constitutes the generic and stylistic definitions of ‘Jazz’, ‘classical music’, ‘Blues.’
'Rhythm and Blues’, ‘Rock and Roll’, ‘Pop’, ‘Funk’, ‘Hip Hop’, etc. in order to search for what individual
artists and ensembles do cretively to challenge and transform our ingrained ideas and attitudes of what
music is and could be.
So please join me in this ongoing visceral, investigative, and cerebral quest to explore, enjoy, and pay
homage to the endlessly creative and uniquely magisterial dimensions of MUSIC in all of its guises and expressive identities.
Saturday, May 12, 2018
Joseph Jarman (b. September 14, 1937): Legendary, iconic, and innovative musician, composer, arranger, ensemble leader, producer, poet and teacher
While attending high school in Chicago in the early '50s, Jarman took
up the drums under the tutelage of the famous music teacher Walter
Dyett. He switched to saxophone and clarinet while in the army. Upon his
discharge in 1958, he returned to Chicago. There, he joined pianist
Muhal Richard Abrams' Experimental Band (formed in 1961), alongside his
future Art Ensemble compatriots Malachi Favors and Mitchell. Jarman
played in a hard bop sextet with Mitchell, and in 1965, he became one of
the first members of the Association for the Advancement of Creative
Musicians.
Starting around 1967, Jarman was one of the first
saxophonists to perform solo, a tactic also embraced by other members of
the AACM, notably Anthony Braxton. Jarman led his own group from
1966-1968, which included bassist Charles Clark, drummer Thurman Barker,
and pianist Christopher Gaddy, among others. Separate editions of that
band recorded a pair of albums for Delmark: Song for... (1966) and As if
it were the Seasons (1968). In 1967, Lester Bowie recorded Numbers 1
& 2 for Nessa; on “2,” the four musicians who would become the Art
Ensemble (Bowie, Mitchell, Favors, and Jarman) recorded together for the
first time.
In 1969, that band would become Jarman's primary
creative outlet. By then, the untimely deaths of Gaddy and Clark had
compelled Jarman to disband his own group. Jarman would continue with
the Art Ensemble until 1993. In that time, he also recorded under his
own name, for the Black Saint, AECO, and India Navigation labels.
Upon
leaving the Art Ensemble, Jarman virtually retired from music, in order
to devote himself more completely to spiritual matters. As the '90s
progressed, however, he did continue to perform and record, often as a
guest with such musicians as Marilyn Crispell, guitarist/ composer Scott
Fields, bassist Reggie Workman, and drummer Lou Grassi
"I don't feel that I am a creator or a performer. I feel that the music of the universe passes through me."
-- Joseph Jarman
Chicago was my indoctrination. In 1990, I attended the 25th anniversary
of the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians. I was
basically an avant rock fan, overly confident in my then miniscule
knowledge of free music. I wish now I even knew who I saw during that
weekend festival, but it was one of the few actually life-changing
events to which I can point.
Three years later, I moved to New
York City. I made a goal to understand the connections between Chicago
and New York, the vacuum that sucks so many of the great players away
from their home. I wanted to find the musicians, like Kalaparusha
Maurice McIntyre, who seemed to have been sucked up and disappeared, and
to see the greats who so rarely played back home. At the top of the
list was the mighty Art Ensemble of Chicago.
The opportunity
came to see the AECO fairly quickly. Thanksgiving 1994 the group played
at the new Knitting Factory on Leonard Street. But the night of the
show, a buzz circled the audience: saxophonist Joseph Jarman wasn't in
the house. When they took the stage, they were a quartet. No mention was
made of the missing member. And as so often happens in the jazz
community, where fans care deeply about their heroes and pioneers,
rumors about Jarman's health started to go around. I realized that a
goal of the latter sort - to see the greats play - had become one of the
former, and I set about finding the absent shaman.
It didn't
take long. A little asking around and I learned he had an aikido dojo in
Brooklyn, walking distance from where I was living at the time. I went
to visit and found him to be present, pleasant and hospitable. He
answered all of my questions about leaving the group to focus more time
on his Buddhist studies and told me stories (the Art Ensemble once
shared a bill with The Beatles in Europe, he said). Every magazine I
contacted at the time rejected the story.
Perhaps comings are
of more interest than goings. Nine years later, Jarman has rejoined the
AECO (although with the loss of Lester Bowie in 1999, they're still not
the powerhouse quintet they once were). And with his Jikishinkan Aikido
Dojo able to stand on its own feet, Jarman, at 66, has recommitted
himself to the musician's life.
We met again at the Smith
Street dojo, and again he answered my questions with a simplicity and
calm befitting a Buddhist priest.
"In January I started again,"
he said of rejoining the Art Ensemble. "It was a great decision because
I loved the Art Ensemble and missed it. We had always been in
communication. Even Lester, he was always saying 'come on back.' His
transition was really the core. They were just a trio and it was nice to
be a quartet again."
The quartet of Jarman, Roscoe Mitchell,
Malachi Favors Magoustous and Famoudou Don Moye played a few concerts in
Europe and recorded the CD The Meeting for Pi Recordings. While they’ll play some West Coast dates this month, no New York appearances are scheduled as yet.
"We've had such a good time with the events we've done that it just has
to be," Jarman said. "Making the CD is an example of where we're at
now. I'm back with the band. It's not temporary because the music is
beautiful." Then, with his soft-spoken, unassuming flair, he added,
"Everybody's really busy, but it works out."
From 1990 to 1993,
Jarman didn't play music at all, even at home, he said. But then
violinist and fellow AACM veteran Leroy Jenkins asked him to join a trio
with another Chicago-area native, pianist Myra Melford. Melford also
studied with Jarman at the dojo, something he considered a requirement
for musical relationships at the time. That was followed by a commission
from the SEM Ensemble, where Jarman said he discovered a way to
incorporate his Buddhist beliefs into composing.
How that
melding works, however, is not easily understood. Or perhaps it is. When
asked, Jarman simply said, "I don't know, the music just comes to me."
Then he began pantomiming playing an upright bass and sang, "Hail we
now sing joy/for the mighty warrior", the opening track from The Meeting.
His point was made, but the a cappella concert continued with a second
song: "If you never sat down/on a pillow that's round/you just might be
missing a great pleasure."
"I don't feel that I am a creator or a performer," he said. "I feel that the music of the universe passes through me."
His work at the dojo continues, although he said he has more support
now, with 80 volunteers, six instructors, a four-person office staff and
three priests (Jarman being one of them). "We have a lot more senior
students and another Buddhist priest, so if I'm not here everything goes
on on a normal basis," he said. "I feel comfortable about this place,
whereas years ago I wasn't comfortable."
The all-volunteer
staff lead basic and advanced martial arts classes as well as special
programs for children and women. And, reflecting Jarman's interest in
combining music and spirituality, the dojo organizes an annual Sonic
Mediation Retreat - six hours a day of meditation, six hours a day of
making music. "It gives us the opportunity to understand silence and
then put music into that silence," Jarman said. The staff performs free
concerts on Sunday evenings through the fall and winter, with Jarman
sometimes participating.
In perhaps a telling fashion, when
asked about his goals for the future, Jarman answers with regard to the
dojo. "Hopefully we'll be able to get our own building," he said. "We'd
like to have a place where we could have an individual space for all
activities."
And the music?
"That's just going on as it is," he said. "Everything is running quite smoothly."
How would you picture a former member of the legendary Art Ensemble
of Chicago, now in his 60's? Humbly and quietly enjoying the fruits of
his labors? Well, certainly not what you'd expect of an AEC member. In
the past year, I'd seen Joseph Jarman in two seemingly different guises
that turned out to be very closely related to who he is and what he's about.
At a performance at Manhattan's Lotus Music and Dance Studios, Jarman
played an assortment of horns, woodwinds and percussion along with a singer,
poet and dancer for a wonderful, inspiring show. Months later, he was doing
the opening invocation for the Vision Festival with a group assembled from
his temple who chanted along with him.
Just before meeting up with him for an interview, I witnessed him teaching
a martial arts class. The very sight of a small, thin man flipping huge
young men around a room was astonishing. The group he taught showed him
the proper respect not for a legendary musician (many didn't at first know
about his past) but for a master of Japanese arts and spiritual meditation.
This is what he has devoted his life to since leaving the Art Ensemble
in 1993 and he has no regrets at all about it (though he certainly looks
back at it fondly).
So who is Joseph Jarman? Art Ensemble refugee? Bruce Lee? Dali Lama?
All of the above and more, no doubt. I had to chance to chat with him about
the breadth of his career shortly after one of the martial arts classes
he teaches at his temple ('dojo'), now a modest one story building in Brooklyn.
Q: I think a good place to start might be to talk about the dojo itself.
How would you explain what dojo is?
JJ: Well, dojo is a traditional Japanese word for training hall. Jikishinkan,
the name of our dojo, means "direct mind training hall". And so we have
that Aikido dojo, Aikido is a non-invasive martial art, purely based on
love and compassion, self-defense. We have the Brooklyn Buddhists Association,
we have meetings there, and we have the International Zen Dojo of Brooklyn
Sogenkai where we practice (renzai) style of Zen meditation.
Q: You've said that the money to start the dojo came from your Art Ensemble
tours?
JJ: Oh, yeah. Some years ago, I guess in 1990 or '91, when I was fortunate
enough to work with the Art Ensemble, we would tour every year, and they
still do. That one year I just put aside the income from one European tour
and invested it in this location here on Smith Street, so that's how it
got started. As a matter of fact, the music has always contributed, because
the financial aspect of the dojo and the temple isn't quite as sufficient
as it would be in a traditional setting. And it's a rare place in the United
States to have a non-Asian operating a Buddhist temple, or a (zendo).
Q: I've heard that the dojo itself is involved with music as part of
its fund raising.
JJ: There are several members in the dojo, people who've been practicing
for some time, and people who haven't been practicing for some time! (laughs)
Some happen to be musicians. So the idea came up to have a dojo band, and
we organized that, and one of the students is the director, so I don't
have to do everything, and generally twice a year we have benefit concerts
and non-benefit concerts, and we're trying to work the program so that
we can have even more concerts, concerts with dancers, concerts with poets,
the whole sort of shebang.
Q: You pointed out one teacher at the dojo who you said gave you a very
important lesson in music by teaching you how to breathe.
JJ: Yeah, Master Watazumi do. I went to Tokyo, Japan. Actually Wadada
Leo Smith took me there. He introduced me to Watazumi do and the first
lesson that he gave me, gave us both, was to breathe. But the breathing
lesson was with an eight foot wooden staff, you know? Having to develop
flexibility in the body because the whole body has to breathe and it was
just amazing, an incredible lesson. It was also an introduction to a lot
of the breathing we do in the zendo, we do breathing exercises and stuff.
It's really great because it keeps the whole body functioning. Instead
of just the lungs, you have to breathe everywhere! (laughs)
Q: When I first walked into your dojo, I was kind of blown away to see
a jazz legend teaching a martial arts class. How does what you do at the
dojo inform your musical ideas?
JJ: Well, actually, I don't consider myself a jazz legend or anything.
In 1993, I retired from the Art Ensemble of Chicago to devote myself full
time to Buddhist studies and to the practice of Aikido. It was not until
1996 that a friend of mine, Leroy Jenkins, called and said 'I would like
for you to participate in a concert that I'm doing'. So okay, I accepted,
and I realized while working for that concert that I'd been missing something
very important and vital to me, and that something was music. I hadn't
been practicing or playing or anything. But that had been a vital part
of my life. So, immediately after that, I got a commission to write a piece
for chamber orchestra, and in working on the material I discovered it was
possible to incorporate the Buddhist teachings into the music, so that's
what I started to do. So all of the music had reference, or is inspired
by something of the dharma that I've come in contact with.
Q: Do you feel that leaving the Art Ensemble and putting music aside
temporarily was necessary?
JJ: Absolutely. It was a kind of a cleansing process. What happened
was, a friend of mine told me I had disappeared from the world, (laughs)
and in reality, I had, because I was devoting full time and energy to the
dojo and I really had no awareness of what was happening in the world.
'Cause that was the total universe to me. It still is the total universe,
except that I've added music back to it.
Q: How do you look back on that time you spent with the Art Ensemble,
and how did it inform the person that you are, the way you are now?
JJ: That was a wonderful time. It took me a long time to reach the decision
to retire, actually, from the Art Ensemble. But it seemed more important
to me to share the vitality of Aikido and the vitality of Zen training
with people, even though it would be a smaller number of people, it seemed
to give them something that could last and improve their lives. I mean,
they could easily remember a song, or a performance, but to be able to
incorporate something into their lives that could be useful.... For example,
breathing. A gentleman came in today who had asthma, and I showed him an
exercise, how to do, and he was like, 'what!?' (laughs) You know, because
in our society we're informed that it's impossible to do anything but enroll
at the hospital, or whatever.
But back to your question, it was a wonderful experience with the Art
Ensemble, and I keep in contact and sort of follow what's going on, but
it was also very important to make this step, you may say this leap of
faith.
Q: Going way back, Chris Gaddy, Charles Clark, members of an early group
of yours, untimely passed away (Clarke in '69, Gaddy in '68). What made
you decide to work with Lester Bowie, Roscoe Mitchell and Malachi Favors
(which would form the basis of the Art Ensemble)?
JJ: Well, it was their invitation. When Christopher and Charles passed
away, I was completely depressed, I felt rejected and real down, and so
Roscoe invited me because he had this spirit of compassion, and we had
gone to school together, were friends and everything. So he got me to do
a concert with them. And I enjoyed it, and they enjoyed it, so they asked
me to do another one. When we went to Europe in 1969, that is, Malachi,
Lester, Roscoe and I went to Paris in 69, we were being interviewed and
when they said what's the name of this group, we decided it should be the
Art Ensemble of Chicago.
Q: What was the chemistry like with the other members of the group?
JJ: Well, remember that we were all members of the Association for the
Advancement of Creative Musicians. So we had developed a kind of bond that
was spiritual as well as political as well as financial, and through the
auspices and the philosophy of the AACM, we were able to manifest this
Art Ensemble group, to share and do everything together, and that was very
unusual for a group to do. Until Muhal Richard Abrams and Phil Cohran founded
the AACM, we had never had that experience, except when were in Muhal's
Experimental Band, which was a band that didn't perform publicly. We just
went into this place to rehearse, take our music and that'd be it. After
two or three years, we had to perform 'cause the place that was allowing
us to rehearse needed to know we were actually doing something there! (laughs)
That was the Abraham Lincoln Center on Chicago's South Side. It was after
that the AACM was founded, and it was based upon that experience that we
were able to generate what became known as the Art Ensemble.
Q: Another interesting part of the AEC was the ritualistic aspect, where
face paint was used, African drums, I read once you were naked to the waist
with just your saxophone...
JJ: I wasn't naked to the waist, I was naked completely! (laughs) Actually,
that aspect was explained once as an expression of the various elements
of man. For example, Lester would wear a doctor's coat, the scientist,
the experimenter. Roscoe was the businessman, the gentleman. I was sort
of the shamanistic image coming from various cultures, so was Malachi and
[AEC drummer Don] Moye. You know, face painting in non-Western cultures
is a sign of collectivism, is a sign of one representing the community,
it's not unique at all. But in our society, it's something unique. So what
we were doing with that face painting was representing everyone throughout
the universe, and that was expressed in the music as well. That's why the
music was so interesting. It wasn't limited to Western instruments, African
instruments, or Asian instruments, or South American instruments, or anybody's
instruments. If we needed a sound [scratches his chair] we'd put a leather
chair on stage and scratch it, if that was the only way to get the sound.
Q: Speaking of the non-musical aspects of the AEC, I saw a performance
you did last year at Lotus Music & Dance Studios, where you worked
with a poet and a dancer. It seems as though multimedia has always been
part of your tradition.
JJ: I've always been interested in blending all the elements, and people
were saying it was unique or unusual, and some even claimed I was the first
quote -- unquote jazz musician to incorporate what they now call "multimedia."
We were doing performance art as far back as 1965, just not calling it
that. Actually, once I was fortunate enough to go to Marrakesh, Morocco,
and there at the King's palace were dancers, musicians, poets, singers,
all at once, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, having a festival. But
the important thing was, none of these people were professionals. They
were from all over the country, farmers, sheepherders! (laughs) From all
over Morocco, they came to Marrakesh. That gave me a kind of confirmation
for my work. I've found also in other cultures that all of these things
are blended in together. Only here, because of the illusion of intellectualism,
our society separates the validity of human expression.
Q: You moved from Chicago to New York in 1982. did that change effect
your life, your outlook, your music?
JJ: Tremendously. 'Cause as you know, New York is about a million times
faster than Chicago. I was just fortunate that all my endeavors were consistent.
I had more work here, more opportunities here, basically that was it. Of
course, I miss Chicago for its quietude and gentleness. People still say
hello to you when you pass them on the street. In New York you say hello
and people are like 'Whassup? What do you mean?' (laughs)
Q: You've recently done pieces for large ensembles that have so far
gone unrecorded, right?
JJ: Unfortunately, no one's been interested. I've made a few inquiries.
The most recent has been the Infinite Compassion, that might have been
the most recent orchestral piece I've done. It was '97, for voice and large
ensemble. In fact, since no one's been interested in my work, I took the
responsibility recently to invest in my own work, so I'm producing a concert
that was done at the Vision Festival in May. I'm making a CD of that concert
because I want to share this with people and realized I had to make the
investment myself. Equal Interest [Jarman's group with violinist Leroy
Jenkins and pianist Myra Melford] has a recording coming out this year,
but that's a multiple project. But this is the first of my own individual
work to come out in some time. No, I haven't had many great recording situations,
and I don't have the energy required to pursue it, 'cause in that business,
one must really get involved with the various producer's companies, you
know, write letters, send e-mails, visit offices. I don't have time to
do all that, because I'm committed to the dojo.
Q: Can you talk about the use of space in your music?
JJ: Well space, there's such an infinite variety. It can be concentrated
and non-moving, or sometimes its so fluid and rapid, you think it's still
not moving at all! I was very impressed with Anton Webern, this composer.
I was very impressed with his view and concept of time and space in music.
Of course, there's been many others, but if I were asked for a reference,
that would be my primary one. Then of course, there's the whole "jazz"
lineage. I've been informed by both sides, jazz, western music, Asian music,
African music, all sides, because I've been interested in the sound of
the universe, and that sound is without limit. As a matter of fact, I bought
a recording that NASA recorded of sounds in space and when you turn it
on, it sounds like anything else you're hearing all the time. Hear that,
that just went by? (Jarman imitates a passing car) You hear that same sound
on the space machine, and there's nothing out there except infinite silence!
Q: I wanted to ask about two other reedists you've worked with, Roscoe
Mitchell And Anthony Braxton. Having worked with them a lot, how have they
influenced your work, or vice versa, considering your different styles?
JJ: That was the nice thing about working with them, was to focus on
your own style rather than becoming an imitator and trying to emulate them.
Both of them are my very good friends and in addition to playing music
together, we just hang out. We also grew up together. Lotta people don't
realize when you grow up with people, you have an affinity, a relationship
you don't get with anyone else. After you're twenty years old, anyone you
meet after that, it's different from the people you knew before.
Q: I saw a great quote of yours, 'Anyone who deviates from Parker or
Gillespie, they're gonna have a hard time, they're gonna be discriminated
against'. Do you see that as still being true today?
JJ: ABSOLUTELY! I think it's clear, really. Unfortunately, its probably
worse now than whenever that was written. 'Cause the conservative revolution,
I've only heard about. People keep me informed, and I read the Internet
news, stuff like that. People call to keep me abreast of what's going on.
It's probably worse today because of the popular music, also because of
the conservative traditional return in jazz. People doing the kind of sound
research that I'm interested in still have a difficult time.
Q: You were describing members of the Art Ensemble earlier and in talking
about yourself, you mentioned your interests were serialized. I wondered
what you meant by that.
JJ: Well, you have to go see THE MATRIX. You know the movie? You saw
it?
Q: Oh yeah.
JJ: Good, then you understand! (laughs)
Q: That everything is all an illusion?
JJ: Yeah, there you go. Perfect. See I say serialized because the approach
to sound has infinite capacity and possibility and we can get in a fixed
place and not be able to move. I've been fortunate in that I've been forced
to move from zone to zone. For example, when I went to Japan to study Buddhism,
and to get my hair cut, or ordination. I like to call it my haircut, other
people say you must be formal and say "ordination." So, when I went to
get my ordination, I was introduced to a whole different view and concept
of music. I mean, the kind of music I would never hear here, would absolutely
never hear the wonderful, deep intensity of silence I was introduced to
over in Japan. And Japanese theater! Kabuki and No theater, all of that,
just awesome. Which we could use and which we do use, but because of the
limits of our society's education culturally, there's still so many problems.
Even in Europe today, they look at America and say, 'America, ha ha, yeah
right! Well, you've got jazz, so what the hell?' (laughs) You know, you
have jazz so you don't have to worry about anything else. But we've got
a great deal more than jazz, a great deal more, but we're in many instances
not allowed to investigate it, nor are we informed about it. I like the
title of your magazine, because it's like, it's in motion, it's got something
else going on.
Q: Did you at one time study or work with John Cage?
JJ: Yes, I worked with Master Cage. He was in Chicago, they used to
have something called the Once Festival, and they came to Chicago, and
I followed them up to Ann Arbor, and there was a student music society
there, and I was invited to play with Mr. Cage on a composition where he
was doing all this electronic stuff. It was -- I forgot the name, and I
just saw it, just recently moved and unpacked and saw some information
about it. But it was his composition, he gave us an outline, and told us
what we had to do to create the music in the time and the space related
to what he was doing. And it was great, we were moving all around, just
doing our thing while he controlled the acoustics.
Q: Did his philosophy continue to have bearing on your work?
JJ: Oh yeah, absolutely. Prior to that, I'd been reading his books,
studying his music, in fact I had everything that had ever been made by
him. I was very impressed with his work, and when I met him, it was even
better. He was, like, cool! He wasn't like [affects robotic voice] 'Yes
-- I'm -- Cage -- you -- must -- o -- bey.' He was like, you know, 'how
are ya?'
Q: What do you think of the next generation of musicians like Sabir
Mateen, Raphe Malik, and Matthew Shipp, somewhat younger musicians who
are picking up some of the threads of your own music?
JJ: Yeah, these guys are an inspiration, to see the tradition is still
alive and doing well, even though it still has very small outreach compared
-- now, its a large outreach on its own. The Vision Festival was packed
every night, always has been for the four years it's been happening. Matthew
and all the other artists are wonderful musicians and its great to see
this happen. You know, Equal Interest played at the Bell Atlantic Jazz
Festival Awards and not one musician from that category was even thought
of. Even thought of! The idea, that here's this vital energy, and that
element doesn't even know it exists!
Q: What are your future plans for the dojo? You said you were hoping
to expand it?
JJ: Well, by the end of the millennium, five, six months from now, we
hope to somehow manage to move into a new location where we have the whole
building, so we can devote space to all our activities. For example, we
can have one space devoted to martial art, another to meditation, another
to Buddhist practices, another to Tai Chi, Zen Therapy, space just for
that. As a matter of fact, we have a fund raising program, and its amazing,
we have about 28 - 30 thousand dollars donated by Japanese Americans in
the bank, and we have from our members and friends of the BBA, about maybe
six thousand on this end and we have so many promises, we feel fortunate
we'll be able to make this move by the end of the year.
Q: And what are your plans for Joseph Jarman?
JJ: (sings) As we float throughout the universe we go / Find the Buddha
way and let your sorrows go / As we float throughout the universe we go
/ Find the guru that will show you how to glow / As we float throughout
the universe we go / Let the visions of your human heart show / As we float
throughout the universe we go / See the light within you and your love
will grow / As we float throughout the universe we go / There is no sorrow
that cannot be cleared / There is no passion that cannot be seared... (I
forgot the other two lines!) Oh, there is no bondage that cannot be freed
/ there is no pain that we cannot let go. La da da da da da da da da...
that's the answer to that question! (laughs)
For 62 years, I feel like I'm sixteen. I said that in 1990 when I got
my hair cut, that I got a whole different perspective. We were sitting
in the Higashi Honganji Honzon in Kyoto, Japan, and it was February and
it was cold and we were in this temple that didn't have nothing! What are
you talking about, lamps and heat? Are you kidding? They came and everybody
had their hair cut, right? They touched everybody on the head and do this
thing. And that actual touch, touched me. It was an energy field that not
only changed my whole consciousness, but my whole view of life, and I'm
very grateful and thankful for that.
And as I said, I'm 62 years old now and I feel like I'm sixteen because
I feel creative and I feel the future holds a lot of wonderful stuff. Even
if I were to space and take off tomorrow, I'd still think it was an incredible
past few minutes!
These days, Joseph Jarman is as widely known for his activities as the founder of the Brooklyn Buddhist Association and head sensei of its affiliated aikido dojo
as for his distinguished career as a creative musician. The latter
activity was the focus in 1987, when I had the privilege of bringing
Jarman to WKCR to present a five-hour retrospective of his musical
production with the Art Ensemble of Chicago, which he joined in 1969, as
a composer-lead of his own ensembles, and as a solo performer. In
reading the transcript of the proceedings, please remember that this was
a live radio broadcast, not an oral history.
Joseph Jarman Profile (2-15-87) – (WKCR):
[MUSIC: AEC, “Prayer Of Jimbo Kwesi” (1980); “The Bulls,” “Little Fox Run,” “Noncognitive Aspects of the City” (1967)]
“The Bulls” and “Little Fox Run” were written by Fred Anderson, who
taught me a great deal about music and about saxophone playing in this
very wonderful early period. It was performed by Fred Anderson, myself,
Billy Brimfield, Charles Clark and Thurman Barker. [ETC.] I’d like to discuss some of the events that precede
the music you just heard. This group came out of the activities of the
AACM. Although the story of the AACM is familiar to many listeners,
perhaps you could speak about your introduction to and initial
involvement in the AACM and what led up to it.
The AACM itself, if I’m not mistaken, was realized in 1965. Prior to
that realization, Muhal Richard Abrams had this wonderful group called
the Experimental Band. I think at that time it wasn’t called anything,
it was just a band, and he was good enough to let people come over
there. You didn’t have to prove anything; you proved it by sitting down
in the chair and playing the music. But the music was all fresh, and
he encouraged everyone to write for this group. One of the things he
told me that was always important was, “Write it. One of the days, you
can hear it.” I still use that dictum today.
There weren’t any outlets in Chicago?
No. There were no outlets for musicians practicing these forms of
music. And this band would meet once a week. As a result of the band
meeting and playing, the idea was realized that maybe we should form
this organization and do something for ourselves, become responsible for
our own destinies. There was Roscoe Mitchell, Lester Bowie, Lester
Lashley, Thurman Barker, Charles Clark, Christopher Gaddy… We’re not
going to get into the forgetting bit. Henry Threadgill, Anthony
Braxton, Fred Anderson, Joel Brandon, a wonderful flute player who is an
award-winning whistler now, Sherri Scott. There was also Kalaparusha,
Fred Berry, who is out on the West Coast now, Ajaramuu who is still in
Chicago, John Stubblefield, Leo Smith, Raphael Garrett used to come
through there quite often, Jack De Johnnette, Leroy Jenkins was a kind
of a staple (he always played my violin parts), Jodie Christian, piano,
and Amina did a lot of singing with us and a lot of piano playing as
well, and during those days she was playing a lot of organ. So there
was all of this great diversity. There were many other musicians who
did things other than music. I mean, they were not so much interested
in becoming “professional musicians” as they were just madly in love
with the music. So this was a place where they could practice music as
well.
How had you heard about the band?
Well, I was a student at Wilson Junior College. We used to have
sessions during some of the break periods. One day, Roscoe said, “I
know where you have to go,” and he took me to this place and introduced
me to Muhal. Then Muhal invited me, I could come to his home and
practice with him, where he would teach me, ha-ha, all of the wonderful
things that I would have to know.
What were you into at the time that you met Muhal Richard Abrams and Roscoe Mitchell?
Well, I was a student and trying to learn the basics of music.
Basically, that was it. On the one hand, I was trying to learn the
basics of academic music, and then through Roscoe, who was in the same
situation with me at the time (also Malachi Favors was there), I met
Muhal, who sort of turned me on to some of the other elements that I had
to deal with, which were not so much academic, but academic in another
way — sort of inside academic. I mean, nothing mysterious or secret or
anything, but nothing that anyone could teach you in a school as such.
Although you were born in Arkansas, you were raised in Chicago and attended the Chicago public schools.
Yes.
Tell me about the musical education you received in the Chicago public schools.
I went to DuSable High School. That was my first exposure to music.
Captain Walter Dyett was there, and I got in his band practicing snare
drum. [LAUGHS]
Were you in a parade band? He had several different bands…
No, I didn’t quite make it to his bands! I was a little bit
disorganized and misdirected. But he did sort of straighten me out on
that level. And I only was able to perform in the concert band, which
was the large big ensemble. I did attend Hijinks and hear the bands,
and many of the famous Jazz players came out of his Hijinks bands —
Johnny Griffin, John Gilmore, John Young…
How about when you were there?
I don’t think there’s anyone from my period who… Fred Hopkins was
over there, but he’s a little younger. He was over there after me.
Well, you have to realize I’m going to be fifty years old in September.
So if I lose some of these things, it’s because I haven’t been there
for a while.
You spent some time in the Armed Forces in the latter part of the Fifties.
Mmm-hmm.
I know for a lot of musicians that was a time when they could
really concentrate on music and get it together. Were you in any Army
bands?
Yes, fortunately I did manage to work my way into an Army band, and it
was there that I actually began to play the alto saxophone and clarinet.
Can you say anything about that? Was there any particular
individual who worked with you, or any particular place where that was
happening?
That was happening in Germany for me. It was a wonderful
experience. I met a lot of musicians there who put me in the right
direction. And it was there that I began to hear the recordings of… I
was very impressed with Jackie McLean at that time, and I still am. He
just stood out in my mind even more so than Charlie Parker. It was
after I got out of the Army that I became conscious of the wonderful
music of Charlie Parker. But Jackie McLean, and then there was a
wonderful young tenor saxophonist by the name of John Coltrane that I
was able to hear. And there were also a lot of fine musicians in the
Army band who were professionals, I mean, that’s what they wanted to do,
but they would play in the clubs off-duty.
I know there were a lot of clubs that built up around the
Army bands, and I know Roscoe Mitchell talks about hearing Albert Ayler
there for the first time and so on.
Mmm-hmm. I didn’t hear Albert Ayler there for the first time, but I
heard Cannonball Adderley in that situation, and I heard Cedar Walton,
Eddie Harris, and there were some European musicians — Albert
Mangelsdorff is probably the one we know most of now. Leo Wright.
There were lots of people…
I’m just trying to give people some sense of what the environment was like.
Well, prior to being in the band, I had been in a line unit; that’s
what it was called. It was an Airborne Line Unit. And something
happened where my consciousness changed, and I had some friends who were
working in the Headquarters Company, and I got transferred to the band,
heh-heh, and out of the line!
Tell us about the scene in Chicago when you were coming up as
a youngster, as an adolescent and in high school. I know you were very
much into the music at that time. You once told me about pressing your
nose to the window at the Beehive, on 55th Street in Hyde Park.
Yeah, right, I heard Charlie Parker there. A friend of mine, James
Johnson, who is a bassoonist now, living in Wisconsin, we pressed our
noses to the Beehive… But there was music all over the street in those
days. If you walked two blocks, you would hear music. I mean, it was
on loudspeakers. And you could walk by the clubs on 63rd Street, down
Cottage Grove, and Gene Ammons would be in there playing, Johnny Griffin
would be in there playing, Sun Ra would be in there playing — it was
like that. One thing I remember is that Sonny Rollins stood on the
corner of 63rd and Cottage Grove in a wonderful yellow dinner jacket
with his hair cut in this Mohican style, and played his tenor saxophone
right on the corner — and I thought, “Oh, this is it.” And that, in
fact, was the essence of theatre in street music. I mean, he had walked
out of the club, McKie’s Lounge, and just played for a bit on the
street, and then went on back in there.
Sonny once wrote a piece called “At McKie’s.”
“At McKie’s,” that’s it. Also Eric Dolphy and John Coltrane played in that place.
That was after the Army.
That was after the Army, yes.
I know you dug Eric Dolphy a lot also, and I was going to ask
you about your first exposure to hearing Eric Dolphy. Was it at that
engagement with Coltrane…?
No, it was on recordings first. Henry Threadgill and Roscoe and I,
and several other musicians, Louis Hall on piano… Every Saturday we
would get together, and we would spend about ten minutes on our
school-work, and then we would spend the next ten hours playing music,
like arrangements from Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers. We would
take a break during these periods, and listen to music. And Drasir(?),
who was a drummer at that time, brought these recordings. One was
called The Shape of Jazz To Come, the other was called The Prophet, and the other was called Coltrane,
where he plays “The Inchworm” and those things. And this was all new
music to us, and it was like incredible. And it was all different. It
was three different, brand-new ideas presented to us in our little
rehearsal space at once. But I remember after that break that
everybody’s music had changed. I do recall that, because it was an
important event. And no one played the same any more after that date.
What was the curriculum like at Wilson Junior College? Were
they teaching you any Jazz, or was it a formal, Euro-centered type of
situation?
It was a formal Euro-centered… But actually, Richard Wang, who was
the instructor there, and who is still very diligently working for the
music, in his spare time had a little band. He would also teach us how
to analyze and approach the elements of the music that we wanted to deal
with.
So between that and the AACM and Muhal’s band, it was really quite a fertile environment.
An excellent foundation. Excellent foundation.
And you were able to play a great deal.
Yes. That was the whole thing, playing all the time.
And you were exposed to the music of many other like-minded individuals.
Right. And that was the most important thing, that there were many
like-minded individuals, both in the educational system, in the schools,
and out of the schools as well. But more importantly, the music was
available. The music was everywhere. It was available. You could go
in a one-mile radius, and you could hear ten different bands. Every
little place had a band in it. And there were people, I mean, not
sitting down in a formal concert situation, but dancing. Even if there
was new music, they would be dancing! And it was available. Now that’s
all changed.
As I recall, you were involved in a very eclectic range of
activities as well. You were once involved in a collaboration with John
Cage in 1965 at the Hyde Park Theatre, I think…
Yes. You were involved in a number of theatrical events… I don’t
know if I have anything specific to ask you about it, but if you could
make some general comments on things that were happening.
Well, as a student, when we were all students, and if we are students
now, we have hopefully this real open mind so that the cup can have
lots of things put in it, so it doesn’t run over. So I was exposed to
all of these kinds of forms, and interested in all of these kinds of
things. There was someone from an experimental music foundation that
introduced us to John Cage, and we talked, and concluded that we should
play this music together. Roscoe with a group played on the other part
of that same concert.
So it was that all areas were open. That’s one of the things that a
lot of people don’t realize, during those days just as now, that all
areas of music were open. It wasn’t that you could only play or be
interested in one form of music. You can play or be interested in any
form of music. And you can express the art through any form of music.
And this became one of the roots for the work that followed.
The next composition is from the Delmark LP, As If It Were The Seasons.
We made two recordings in this early period for Delmark, and this was
the second. The composition we’re going to hear is “Song For
Christopher.” Christopher Gaddy, who had been the pianist with the
quartet (which was Thurman Barker, Christopher Gaddy, Charles Clark and
I) had started to compose this composition, and he died, and I felt
responsible to sort of finish it. And that’s what we did here; we
finished the composition. This is with Lester Lashley, trombone, John
Jackson, trumpet, John Stubblefield and Fred Anderson, tenor sax, Joel
Brandon, flute, Richard Muhal Abrams, piano and oboe, Sherri Scott,
voice, Thurman Barker, all kinds of drums, Charles Clark, bass, cello
and koto, Joseph Jarman, alto sax, bassoon, fife, recorder, soprano sax.
[MUSIC: Joseph Jarman, “Song For Christopher”]
This was recorded in ’68, and it was after this recording that we
lost Charles Clark. I was shattered emotionally. And it was at this
time of being emotionally shattered that Roscoe and Lester and Malachi
invited me to play music with them. Shortly after that, in 1969, we
went to Europe, to Paris, where we stayed for a couple of years. And
the next music will come from that period.
What motivated the four of you to make that jump?
Well, the music was very exciting. After I started to play with
them, it was very exciting for me even more. And there were just no
opportunities to perform. I mean, really; literally none. Outside of
the AACM there were very, very few other situations, because the musical
ideas were fresh, they were very challenging to many listeners, and
moreso to promoters, club-owners, business people, like that — because
it was a kind of aesthetic that they had not quite caught up with. So
it occurred to us that if we went to Europe, we would have more
opportunity. The motivation was really just to play, and be able to
play music. Because you have to do it for people, you know; you can’t
just play forever in your own little room.
You were also working some in Detroit, I believe.
Yes. During that period there was the Detroit Artists Workshop.
John Sinclair and those people up there had a music program. Charles
Moore, a cornetist living on the West Coast now, was instrumental in
organizing and inviting people up there. And people from Chicago would
go up there and perform. It was like a little cultural exchange
program, heh-heh!
And you took one trip to the West Coast, I believe.
No, I didn’t take the trip to the West Coast. Lester, Malachi and
Roscoe, and maybe Philip one time; they took a couple of trips to the
West Coast. This was prior to all of these events.
You weren’t the only ones in the AACM to go to Paris either.
No. Leroy Jenkins, Leo Smith and Anthony Braxton were the others.
And there lots of other American musicians in Paris at that time.
There were people from St. Louis, Oliver Lake and Joe Bowie… Wow,
this is another mind-boggling… There were a lot of musicians from New
York there as well. Archie Shepp, Dave Burrell, Frank Wright, Mohammed
Alan Silva, Bobby Few… Oh yeah, it was a hot scene over there.
And everyone who knows the BYG label knows of these cross-currents blending together in some pretty amazing situations.
Yeah, it was very wonderful. It was a hot scene. It was like going
from one wonderful scene to another. We were very fortunate in that
respect, that the move to Europe just placed us in another creative
environment. And all of these musicians from the East Coast or wherever
who were living in Paris at the time had different ideas, which sort of
revitalized us, and I’m sure that we excited them to some extent.
We’ll talk some more about this period after we hear a “Ericka,” composed by Joseph, recorded June 23, 1969.
After that there was a bit more moving around, and now we’re going to
return to the wonderful United States after the Paris period. So that
concludes the first and the second period. Now we move into the third.
So the Paris period was a period of ferment and growth for
everyone in the Art Ensemble. There were many, many activities, and I
guess procedures you’re still dealing with to this day that started at
that point.
Yes. In Paris, there was not only a wide development in the music,
but more exposure to Theatre and Dance and all of these kinds of forms,
and we began to incorporate many of these elements into our work. Also
in Paris we were exposed to you may say World Music Culture, more so
than we had been in Chicago, meeting African musicians, meeting
musicians from the Far East, meeting musicians from everywhere, and
associating with them, and discovering the wonderfulness of the forms
they had to offer. And people became exposed to you.
Yes, and people became exposed to us as well, right. So then we
returned to the United States, and for the first two years we didn’t
work very much, but we were rehearsing nearly every day — because we
were still living all together at that time, or pretty close together.
And we did return to Chicago.
Can we just go a little bit into the concept of the Art
Ensemble spending this amount of time together as a unit, the degree of
commitment that was required for that.
Well, during those days we were having every experience together
possible, in order to get on a deeper level of what the music is about.
Because there is a feeling that the music is more than what’s on the
page, or even more than words. It’s an experience. It’s a living
process, this music is. In fact, at one of our recent performances, we
played some music, and it was almost like telepathy. Everybody knew
exactly, but fresh, where everyone was going. And it’s from this kind of
knowing that we were able, even in those days, in the beginning, to
reach areas of music that had not been reached before, as far as we had
known. Because we were trying to go deep-deep, deep-deep, deep-deep
within, and find the elements there, and try to pull them out in a
collective way. A lot of individuals have been able to do this, but for
a commitment to be made for a collective expression broadens the
musical scope. And this is what we were after. Because the music is
limitless. It is without boundary. Every individual experience, if the
individual will allow it, can be expressed through a communal effort.
And this is what we were trying to achieve.
Also in Paris you found your drummer.
Yes, we found Famoudou Don Moye in Paris. We were playing at a place
called the American Center, and Moye appeared and said, “I’m playing
with you.” We said, “Oh yeah?” And since then, in fact, he has been
playing with us.
Some very positive things ensued from being without a
drummer. You’d had Philip Wilson, who left the band to go off into some
other things, and although you used various different drummers, for the
most part you were a four-piece group where everybody was forced to
take on the rhythmic role. I don’t know if there’s a specific question,
but if there are any comments you’d care to make on that aspect of the
music.
Well, see, it’s because you know so much about the Art Ensemble, since you’ve known us for fifteen years or so…! Well, yeah, we did have to discover. It also gave us all a different
sense and perspective of what rhythm and drumming and all this business
is actually about. Because we discovered we had to do it ourselves,
not because we even necessarily wanted to, but because the music
required these kind of timbres, and that there must be a way, and where
are they. And we took it upon ourselves to investigate them. It wasn’t
just “Okay, I want to play this,” but it’s in order to find the sound
and making the commitment to find the sound.
And this is another thing that was perhaps a bit different from many
of our predecessors, the idea of looking for a sound, rather than
playing a musical instrument and getting all of the sound out of that.
Because each instrument is a different universe, and each instrument
does contain of its own-ness a wonderful thing. One of the things that
we were after was to find the sound. It was coincidental where that
sound came from. The responsibility was not so much for me to play the
saxophone as to play the sound that I heard. And sometimes that came in
the form of a bell, and it took years to find the bell to hear that
sound. Because all of this music, this kind of breath, cosmic breath,
is flowing, and some people it touches. And if we’re practicing music
and we’re open enough and it touches us then we have to respond. If we
restrain ourselves, then we discover that we are not being true to our
own selves. Which might put a lot of stress and pressure on a single
individual practicing music, but someone has to have the courage to make
that investigation and endeavor.
And then you returned to the United States.
Yes. Back to the United States. We didn’t work for a couple of
years, but we were rehearsing nearly every day. Frank Lowe invited me
to come up here to perform in New York, and as a result of that there
was this recording that we’re going to hear.
[MUSIC: “Thulani,” Black Beings, 1973]
We’ll hear now music by the Art Ensemble from Fanfare For The
Warriors recorded in 1973 — “Illistrum” and “What’s To Say?” This is
your second release for Atlantic. How did your association with the
label come about?
It just happened. [LAUGHS] “Illistrum” has a poem on it, which will
be self-evident, and “What’s To Say?” is a little brighter, I would say.
[MUSIC: “Illistrum,” “What’s To Say?”]
We’ll now hear some material from a solo concert by Joseph Jarman in 1976 at the University of Chicago.
We’ll hear two excerpts. One is called “The Spirit of Eric,” and
this is a kind of homage to Eric Dolphy. And the other is called “The
Spirit of Trane,” and this is a kind of homage to Master John Coltrane.
I’d like to ask you a question about solo work. I know some
of it has to do with economics and putting together a set by yourself,
but also in the AACM it was expected musicians would give solo concerts
and develop that type of work.
Well, during the pre-Paris period and the post-Paris period as well,
the AACM was having concerts at one time nightly, every night, seven
nights. There were like requirements that you would have to do, and one
of the requirements was that you would have to perform solo. So in the
AACM, the solo performance tradition, solo recital, had been going on
quite a while prior to practicing solo recordings.
When was your first solo concert?
I have no idea. But it was during the AACM period, for the AACM at
the Hull House on 57th Street and someplace in Chicago. But each
performance situation has its own unique identity. In solo performance,
because you have no other sounds, the instrumentalist must be very
careful and go directly to where the source is. So this is what I think
everyone is trying to do who is performing in the solo context. It’s
certainly much more challenging, because you have to stay right on
line. It’s difficult to try to explain. But when you’re playing music
alone, as opposed to playing with one or more other beings, then somehow
you must be in tune with another kind of aspect of yourself that’s not
always available.
At this point, in 1976, you have somewhat more options for
self-expression just in terms of the number of instruments you’re
playing.
Yes.
In the late Sixties recordings we get to hear you on alto
sax, soprano, bassoon, and a few other instruments, but here you’re
featuring bass clarinet, tenor sax, sopranino saxophone. Talk about how
your multi-instrumentalism developed up to this point.
Well, it was about the idea of the sound and trying to get to the
actual sound. When we got to Paris, there were many more sources
available. For example, many of these bells and gongs and vibraphones
and instruments were readily available during those days, whereas prior
to that they weren’t. We discovered in our investigations that these
sounds came from these instruments that were already there. In other
situations that we found ourselves in, some of the sounds didn’t have
any source, so we had to create the source. So Malachi built his little
desk, Roscoe built his rack, Moye built his rack, Jarman built his
rack, you know, to get these sounds that we wanted but that weren’t
available.
So this is probably the reason that so many instruments are being
played, not so much because someone wants to play them, because it’s
very difficult to play all of these instruments and practice them, and
that commitment — but the sound. And so the commitment is to the sound
and wherever the source is. This, incidentally, is not a new idea. It
was just a new idea for us, and we felt that we had the right to make
this investigation and we had the right to make this expression.
[MUSIC: “Spirit of Eric,” “Spirit of Trane”, Sundown, AECO (Chicago, 12-4-76)]
[ETC.] We’ll hear “Lonely Child,” a poem by Joseph Jarman, performed by the Magic Triangle group with Don Pullen and Don Moye.
I had the good fortune to meet Don Pullen, and as a result, he and
Moye and I were able to document a couple of our experiences together.
One experience that we had a tape for, but unfortunately we can’t play, I
just wanted to mention because it was a great time. Moye and I were
doing a duo tour out on the West Coast, and Pullen and Charlie Haden
were doing a duo tour out on the West Coast, and we wound up in the old
Keystone Corner together. And somehow we played together. I mean,
musicians do that; they come together. We said, “Oh yeah, we’re saying
hello, but why don’t we really say hello and play some music.” So we
played some wonderful music, but unfortunately we can’t share that at
this time.
Incidentally, a lot of these musics have poetry with them because we
feel that they somehow go together. And that’s not a new idea either.
But words have meaning, and the sounds have meaning — and in many
instances, they have the same meaning. But a lot of people don’t
realize that. I mean, they may hear words in their head while they are
listening to music, and then sometimes while they are listening to words
they may hear music in their heads. So we were just sort of putting
these things together.
This is around the time when the members of the Art Ensemble
began again to devote time to their own projects, to stay together as
the Art Ensemble and operate more as individuals, which is happening to
this day, and I know that this has to happen.
That is wonderful, because when that started getting more
revitalized, I think, and when we came back together as the Art
Ensemble, it was always a fresh, new adventure for us. I just don’t
know, except that the input has become greater as a result of these
various experiences, because the different members of the Art Ensemble
have been going out into the world, and whereas before we were pretty
much confined to our own individual resources and discovering things
just from each other, now we are discovering things from lots of other
kinds of ways of what music is about, and bringing this back again to
the Ensemble and crystallizing it, is really what I have felt recently,
in the past couple of years. I have really been enjoying playing with
the Art Ensemble because the music is becoming crystallized. Some
people say it’s becoming, what do you call it, predictable, and some
people are saying it’s becoming…
Classic.
Classic, yeah…I don’t know… All these kinds of things. But for us,
it’s a different kind of freshness. It’s becoming crystal, it’s
becoming… Sometimes we used to take chances, and if any one of the
voices was maybe a little nervous about the chance, we couldn’t quite go
there. But now we’ll take a chance, and everybody will go there,
because everyone knows that it’s okay to breathe and it’s okay to
stretch. So that’s very good.
[MUSIC: Magic Triangle, “Lonely Child”]
We’ll hear a tape from Joseph’s files of a composition
performed with the AACM Big Band at the Underground Festival in the
summer of 1981.
[MUSIC: AACM Large Ensemble, “Foresight”]
That was the AACM Large Ensemble. It featured Ed Wilkerson, Douglas
Ewart, Reggie Nicholson, Mchaka Uba, Mwata Bowden, Ernest Dawkins and a
few others.
We’ve discussed before various situations for writing that
occurred in the AACM, and this is the first example we’ve heard of your
writing for large ensemble, etcetera. This is to point out that many of
the individuals familiar to New York audiences represent only a small
slice of the many artists out of Chicago and St. Louis to New York City.
If I can say, the Chicago School has had some excellent examples up
here. Henry Threadgill’s writing can be looked at as probably the jewel
of Chicago, and of course, Muhal Richard Abrams, we’ve had an
opportunity to hear some of his large ensemble work. So that the
school’s concept is available, and that concept is that each composer
look into his own resources, and do what he’s doing.
The next recording is “Black Paladins.” This is a poem by Henry
Dumas, a poet, and Jarman did the music for this. We’ll go from there
into “Mama Marimba,” which was written by the bassist Johnny Dyani, who
we had the opportunity to work with. Henry Dumas was a wonderful poet
who was mistaken, unfortunately, in New York for some kind of criminal,
and was mistakenly killed in the subway of New York some years ago,
1968, May 23rd. He was born in Sweet Home, Arkansas. When I discovered
Dumas’ writing, it became very important for me, because he was
carrying on a kind of tradition that I had only found in Black African
writers. But here was an Afro-American telling stories about things
that I knew about, because although I grew up in Chicago, I was born in
Arkansas, and somehow my consciousness still remembers some of that
Arkansas wonderfulness. Dumas’ poetry and his stories were very close,
are very close to me, and became I guess a principal inspiration for
me. Not only did this “Black Paladins” become a kind of manifesto for
me, but it also generated a whole theatre piece that I had the
opportunity to perform, but don’t have any music, tape or recording of
it at this time. So with that, we can go into “Black Paladins.”
[MUSIC: “Black Paladins,” “Mama Marimba”]
“Mama Marimba” was written by Johnny Dyani, who was a wonderful bass
player who lived in Northern Europe and who was born in South Africa,
and who, again, brought his culture to the Ensemble. Moye introduced me
to him. Moye has a knack for finding all these wonderful musicians!
We toured a couple of times in Europe. We tried to have opportunities
to perform with him in the United States, but unfortunately, that never
worked out. But we did tour Europe on two, possibly three occasions,
and it was always a very, very nice musical experience. So that’s why
really I wanted to play that composition of his. And you can see the
kind of melodic thing that was happening in that rhythm.
[ETC.]
The remainder of the program comprised almost entirely tapes from Joseph Jarman’s collection.
1. “Dipple Hexokey Coterminus” as recorded at the Chicago Underground
Festival in November 1983 by the AACM Large Ensemble and Ari Brown on
tenor saxophone.
2. “Fanfare for the Newest-Born,” New York City, with Longineau
Parsons on trumpet and fluegelhorn, Fred Hopkins on bass, Famoudou Don
Moye on percussion, and Joseph Jarman.
3. From the album Inheritance, “Unicorn in Shadows,” “Love Song For A Rainy Monday”
4. “Desert Song,” Brussels, early ’80s, with Craig Harris, Essiet Okun Essiet, Famoudou Don Moye and Jarman.
5. “Scene 14”, NY.
6. “Eyes of the Charm-Giver,” performed by The Musical Elements, with Thurman Barker on marimba
7. “Poem Song,” with Jarman, Edward Wilkerson, Geri Allen, Fred Hopkins, Thurman Barker, Chicago Jazz Festival, 1985.
Jarman was not so accomplished a saxophonist as his reed-playing partner in the Art Ensemble of Chicago, Roscoe Mitchell. But Jarman's
sense of color was fine, his blunt-edged improvisations projected an
emotionally immediacy of their own, and his interest in poetry and
theatre informed the band's live performances. While attending high
school in Chicago in the early '50s, Jarman
took up the drums under the tutelage of the famous music teacher Walter
Dyett. He switched to saxophone and clarinet while in the army. Upon
his discharge in 1958, he returned to Chicago. There, he joined pianist Muhal Richard Abrams' Experimental Band (formed in 1961), alongside his future Art Ensemble compatriots Malachi Favors and Mitchell. Jarman played in a hard bop sextet with Mitchell, and in 1965, he became one of the first members of the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians.
Starting around 1967, Jarman was one of the first saxophonists to perform solo, a tactic also embraced by other members of the AACM, notably Anthony Braxton. Jarman led his own group from 1966-1968, which included bassist Charles Clark, drummer Thurman Barker, and pianist Christopher Gaddy, among others. Separate editions of that band recorded a pair of albums for Delmark: Song for... (1966) and As if it were the Seasons (1968). In 1967, Lester Bowie recorded Numbers 1 & 2 for Nessa; on "2," the four musicians who would become the Art Ensemble (Bowie, Mitchell, Favors, and Jarman) recorded together for the first time. In 1969, that band would become Jarman's primary creative outlet. By then, the untimely deaths of Gaddy and Clark had compelled Jarman to disband his own group. Jarman would continue with the Art Ensemble
until 1993. In that time, he also recorded under his own name, for the
Black Saint, AECO, and India Navigation labels. Upon leaving the Art Ensemble, Jarman
virtually retired from music, in order to devote himself more
completely to spiritual matters. As the '90s progressed, however, he did
continue to perform and record, often as a guest with such musicians as
Marilyn Crispell, guitarist/composer Scott Fields, bassist Reggie Workman, and drummer Lou Grassi.
JAZZ: JOSEPH JARMAN'S MULTIMEDIA 'LIBERATION SUITE'
THE
Art Ensemble of Chicago was perhaps the most influential jazz band of
the 1970's and is defined as much as anything else by its sometimes
ornate, always exuberant theatricality. The member of the ensemble most
responsible for that theatricality is Joseph Jarman, who plays
saxophones and other woodwinds. And so the first full-scale presentation
in New York of one of Mr. Jarman's own music-theater pieces Saturday
night, as part of the New Jazz at the Public Theater series, attracted
an overflow audience.
The
evening began with three mostly lugubrious instrumental pieces. But the
crowd had come for ''Liberation Suite,'' which followed the
intermission and which lasted slightly over an hour.
This
was a blend of composed and improvised instrumental music, song, poetic
recitation, slides, dance and mime. The theme was nothing less than the
relocation of black people from Africa across the ocean to America, and
their troubled, perhaps ultimately optimistic destiny in this country.
These themes were suggested in part by the slides and mime but mostly
through the poetry of Henry Dumas, who was mistakenly killed by the
police in 1966; of Thulani Davis-Jarman, who read her own work, and of
Mr. Jarman himself.
This
melange, and Mr. Jarman's stated inspiration in 1960's street theater,
might suggest something rhetorically dated. But, in fact, the poetry and
the multi-media aspects worked very well.
The
music, too, had its moments, especially in the more boisterous and
overtly coloristic portions. Mr. Jarman had with him Henry Threadgill on
sax and winds, and most of Mr. Threadgill's recent sextet - Craig
Harris on trombone; Olu Dara on cornet; Fred Hopkins on bass, and
Pheeroan ak Laff on percussion. These along with Khan Jamal on vibes,
formed the basic septet. In addition, there were Jarawa Mwalimu, a
costumed percussionist; Mrs. Davis-Jarman; Terry Jenore, singer; Avery
Brooks, actor, and Kevin M. Ramsey, dancer.
This
Sunbound Ensemble made up a talented group that brought out the best in
Mr. Jarman's stiff and earnest musical ideas. What makes a great band
great is the complementary contributions of all its members. Mr.
Jarman's theatrics work better with better music, and hence the total
impact of the best Art Ensemble performances surpasses that of the
Sunbound Ensemble on Saturday night.
A version of this review appears in print on August 16, 1982, on Page C00016 of the National edition with the headline: JAZZ: JOSEPH JARMAN'S MULTIMEDIA 'LIBERATION SUITE'. Order Reprints|Today's Paper
"Non-Cognitive Aspects of the City"
(Poem, recitation, and composition by Joseph Jarman)
Joseph Jarman--recitation, alto sax
Christopher Gaddy-- piano
Charles Clark-- bass
Thurman Barker-- drums
Recorded October 20th 1966, Chicago Sound Studios.
'Song For', released on Delmark in 1967, is one of the earliest documents of the Chicago-based Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (AACM), and was pianist Christopher Gaddy's only recording. Both he and bassist Charles Clark would die at just 24 years of age in 1968 and 1969 respectively: Gaddy of internal disorders sustained during US Army service, Clark (who was the youngest member of the AACM) of a cerebral hemorrhage. Jarman, Barker (and the other musicians on the date, Fred Anderson and Steve McCall), meanwhile, would go on to have long careers in experimental jazz.
Jarman's poem 'Non-Cognitive Aspects of the City' (subsequently the title of a 21st-century Art Ensemble of Chicago album, and the subject of a setting by Roscoe Mitchell for orchestra and baritone singer) is much more than just the 'Black Dada Nihilismus' rip-off one reviewer dismissed it as being. Jarman's delivery is, like Leroi Jones/Amiri Baraka's, deceptively quiet, almost menacing; but, whereas Baraka's poem (and its companion piece, 'Black Art') was a deliberately inflammatory, confrontational work, Jarman's is more reflective, concerned, like Jones, with European modernism ("dada/new word out of the twenties of chaos") but, though acutely aware of racial concerns ("returned in the suntan jar" suggesting, perhaps, the white man's desire for the 'exotic' trappings of blackness whilst remaining truly white - 'everything but the burden'), less tied to nationalistic cries for action ("exit the tenderness for power/ black or white"). Likewise, while some might dismiss this as 'beat poetry', based on a superficial understanding of its technical workings and general 'ambiance', in fact, the connection between music and words is actually, it could be argued, more fundamental than in the somewhat tentative experiments of Jack Kerouac or Kenneth Patchen from the previous decade.
As Sean Bonney puts it an essay named after Jarman's poem and published in the online poetics journal Pores: "Even with a good poet such as Kerouac, whose writing was exemplary in finding a literary mirror of what music can do, the music is reduced to an accompaniment, and while supposedly subservient to the words, actually carries them and, essentially, does their work. An exploitative relationship that destroys the music's own systems of thought, and where the analogies with capitalist division of labour are absolutely clear. [However], in the most militant periods of the 1960s, poetry began to appear with more and more frequency on radical jazz records, and managed to escape the problems of jazz-poetry we mentioned above. The poems, in recordings such as Joseph Jarman's "Non-Cognitive Aspects of the City", in Barbara Simmons' work with Jackie McLean, and in Baraka's own work with The New York Art Quartet, Sunny Murray and Sun Ra, were able to be incorporated into the sonic field in such a way that they became one equal element in the collective of voices that made up the piece. The music was no longer there as an accompaniment that allowed the poem to sound greater than it actually was, but would respond to the words only inasmuch as the poem would respond to the music. The poem would push the music into clear speech, and the music in its turn would take that speech into places that it wouldn't ordinarily be able to get to, thus refusing the too easy fixion of meaning that a less equal partnership of music and words would be unable to get beyond."
THE
jazz musician Joseph Jarman's schedule was getting complicated. He had
to finish some orchestrations, make a tape of street noise, photograph a
few burned-out buildings, assemble war-film footage, choose and arrange
a series of slides and procure bird whistles for his whole band. He
also had to wedge in 18 hours of rehearsal for an ensemble of eight
musicians, an actor, a dancer and a poet. All that was in preparation
for this weekend's premiere of his multimedia work ''Liberation Suite.'
The
performance by Mr. Jarman's Sunbound Ensemble will be given at the
Public Theater, 425 Lafayette Street, tomorrow night at 10 as part of
the theater's New Jazz series (tickets, $7.50; information, 598-7150).
Along with ''Liberation Suite,'' the program will include Mr. Jarman's
''Incidental Music I,'' ''Turiya Suite'' and ''As If It Were the
Seasons.''
Mr.
Jarman's logistics should add up to a far more ambitious production
than the average jazz concert. ''The highest art forms should suggest
the possibility of creative living, and you should use all the crafts
and forms available to you,'' Mr. Jarman said the other day between
appointments. ''It's like painting a picture or writing a novel - you
use whatever is necessary to communicate the idea.'' Influential Jazz
Group
Since
the 1960's, Mr. Jarman's main outlets have been composing music and
playing saxophone, flute, clarinet, keyboards, gongs and other assorted
instruments as a member of the Art Ensemble of Chicago. The quintet
arose from Chicago's Association for the Advancement of Creative Music
collective and proved to be one of the most influential jazz groups of
the 1970's, with a freewheeling mixture of structures and improvisations
that draws on world music and the entire history of jazz and pop.
Largely through Mr. Jarman, the Art Ensemble brings elements of theater
to its concerts; members perform in robes and African-style face paint,
and they have been known to fire cap pistols at one another on stage.
''Everyone
in the Art Ensemble has the opportunity to contribute,'' Mr. Jarman
said, ''but a lot of the paraphernalia of theater comes out of my ideas.
When I was a student in the late 1950's and early 60's, street theater
and Beat culture were in vogue, and later in the 60's political theater
was a great influence, as our people became conscious of the necessity
of getting our message across outside the privately owned media. We'd
play concerts on the street corner, and people would come up who would
never see a concert otherwise.
''When
you hear music, you see it, too,'' he continued. ''I remember back in
the 50's, when Miles Davis came to town in his Italian suits, we'd go
just to check him out - and oh, by the way, he played trumpet. Even now,
you hear people say: 'Did you see Miles Davis? He was wearing a
jumpsuit and a baseball cap.' All of that is part of the music. You
know, how would it feel if you went to a rock concert and saw the guys
wearing suits and ties? You'd say, 'They're weird.' Part of how it
sounds is how it looks.'' Showcases for Music
Still,
concerts by the Art Ensemble are primarily showcases for the music. In
the six months of each year that ensemble members devote to outside
projects, Mr. Jarman has staged pieces that more thoroughly integrate
music and theater - pieces that have used texts, masks, projections,
dancers and even a magician to appear to levitate the dancers.
''Liberation
Suite'' will be Mr. Jarman's first full-scale multimedia production in
New York, and he has engaged some of the finest musicians in the city,
including the saxophonist Henry Threadgill and the bassist Fred Hopkins
of Air, the trumpeter Olu Dara, the drummer Pheeroan ak Laff and the
trombonist Craig Harris, who will also play the Australian didjeridoo, a
straight trumpet made from a tree trunk.
Mr.
Jarman declined to describe the music, although he did say, ''The more
diverse the elements we deal with, the more necessary it is to define
the structure.'' The preliminary scenario for ''Liberation Suite''
included such notations as ''swing section,'' ''church,'' ''ballad,''
''intense section,'' ''New Orleans parade march'' and ''fanfare to the
new republic.'' It seems likely that the Sunbound Ensemble will be every
bit as eclectic as the Art Ensemble.
The
text of ''Liberation Suite,'' most of it by the poet Thulani Davis,
deals with Africans coming to the New World, and it exorcises bitterness
with utopian optimism. As a preface, Mr. Jarman said he plans to show
''Fishing Story,'' a short documentary made in Ghana by Carlos Davis
about ''a ritual of fishing, a rhythmic method that becomes a dance.''
''It's
fishing not so much to catch fish as to have a relationship with the
ocean, and it becomes a village communion, a celebration of life,'' he
continued. ''The film defines the whole composition, which is a kind of
theme and variations. The final fanfare says, 'Hail to Africa, people of
the sun, we are one.' We're trying to get at the suggestion that we
might consider collective consciousness for the survival of the world.''
A Personal Manifesto
''Liberation
Suite'' was also inspired, Mr. Jarman said, by the poet Henry Dumas,
who was killed in 1966 when a policeman mistook him for a fleeing
suspect. One of Mr. Dumas's poems, ''Black Paladins,'' which begins We
shall be riding dragons in those days black unicorns challenging the
eagle, is the centerpiece of the suite. ''I saw this poem and took it as
a personal manifesto,'' said Mr. Jarman after reciting it from memory.
''It was not just something I would have liked to write, but something
more than that, something deeper.''
Did
Mr. Jarman worry that the words might upstage the music? ''They're two
aspects of the same thing,'' he said. ''When we speak, we make music -
we talk loud and we talk softly; we talk quickly and we talk slowly.
Music is language. It has been said that it's the language of the gods.
We forget this because we're so busy concentrating on one aspect or the
other.
''Sometimes
people come to concerts and sit there like this'' - Mr. Jarman adopted
an expression of stony attentiveness - ''as if they don't think it's
appropriate to giggle or laugh or respond. The concert becomes a
meaningless, passive experience. On Saturday, if no one laughs, I
will.''
This set is one of the legendary early AACM releases. Joseph Jarman (heard on alto, bassoon and soprano in addition to fife and recorder) is featured shortly before he became a member of the Art Ensemble of Chicago. Some of his sidemen would become well-known (pianist Richard Abrams, tenors Fred Anderson and John Stubblefield), while others remained obscure or short-lived (bassist Charles Clark, drummer Thurman Barker, flutist Joel Brandon, trumpeter John Jackson and trombonist Lester Lashley). The two lengthy group improvisations (Sherri Scott adds her voice to "Song for Christopher") contrast sound and silence, noise with more conventional sounds, "little instruments" with powerful saxophones. Certainly not for everyone's taste, the truly open-eared will find the innovative results quite intriguing.
Joseph Jarman is a cofounder of Chicago's famed AACM (Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians) founded in 1965 and a member of the Art Ensemble of Chicago from 1969 to 1993. He has performed, toured and recorded in all parts of the Western world as well as in Japan and Eastern Europe. In 2001 he was invited by the Mayor of Chicago as an honored guest composer and performer, and to the Dogen Country in Mali by invitation of the French Consulate for a special project of music and art with Dogen artists and Western Artists (Leroy Jenkins, Thomas Buckner, and Alain Kirili).
Best known as a saxophonist, Mr. Jarman plays all the woodwinds and many percussion instruments, including vibes, marimba, balophone, and an array of bells, gongs and little instruments. Mr. Jarman has also worked extensively in Music/theater and is largely responsible for its development as a means of expression in new music. As a writer and poet, Joseph Jarman has published in Black Scholar, Dada Artist, New World and other books and magazines. He has also written the liner notes for many Art Ensemble of Chicago recordings.
Mr. Jarman studied music at the Chicago Conservatory of Music and Chicago Teachers College. He has been awarded numerous fellowships and grants, including several NEA grants, New York State Council grants for composition. In 1984 he received an interacts grant with Jessica Hagdorn, Blondell Cummings and John Woo for The Art of War. He also had a grant in 1999 from the British Arts Council. Mr. Jarman has received numerous first place awards from Downbeat Critics Polls. He is a member of the National Jazz Educators, Composers Forum, and Jazz Institute of Chicago (Life member). Mr. Jarman is an honorary lifetime member of the Chicago Jazz Society and is an honorary citizen of the city of Atlanta, GA and Madison, Wisconsin.
In 1990 Mr. Jarman was ordained a Jodo Shinshu Buddhist Priest and also holds the rank of Godan (5th degree) black belt in the martial art of Aikido. He now directs the Jikishinkan Aikido Dojo and Brooklyn Buddhist Association. Mr. Jarman's most recent recordings include Pachinko Dream track 10 on Music @ Arts Records; Return of the Lost Tribe - Delmark Records; Out of the Mist - Ocean records; and Lifetime Visions for the Magnificent Human - Bopbuda Music
Joseph Jarman
Born: 14-September1937
Birthplace: Pine Bluff, AR
Gender: Male
Race or Ethnicity: Black
Occupation: Musician
Nationality: United States
Executive summary: Art Ensemble of Chicago multi-intrumentalist and composer
After leaving the army, in which he had been performing in bands on saxophone and clarinet, Joseph Jarman moved to Chicago in time to participate in the creative movement taking root in the early 1960s. He joined both the incipient Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians and The Experimental Band, working for the first time alongside two musicians who would become his longstanding bandmades: Roscoe Mitchell and Malachi Favors. In 1969 the three -- joined by fellow AACM member Lester Bowie -- would form the Art Ensemble of Chicago, a band that would help define the free jazz movement. With the Ensemble, Jarman recorded in excess of 50 albums and toured the world extensively before retiring from the group in 1993.
Amongst his many non-AEOC projects, Joseph Jarman headed his own group in the late sixties, recorded numerous solo and collaborative albums, contributed to theatre productions, and has had several volumes of his poetry published. He is credited as being one of the first musicians to perform entirely solo pieces on the saxophone.
Joseph Jarman is cofounder of Chicago’s famed AACM (Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians)
founded in 1965 and a member of the Art Ensemble of Chicago from 1969
to 1993. He has performed, toured and recorded in all parts of the
Western world as well as in Japan and Eastern Europe. In 2001 he was
invited by the Mayor of Chicago as an honored guest composer and
performer, and to the Dogen Country in Mali by invitation of the French
Consulate for a special project of music and art with Dogen artists and
Western Artists (Leroy Jenkins, Thomas Buckner, and Alain Kirili). Best known as a saxophonist, Mr. Jarman plays all the woodwinds and
many percussion instruments, including vibes, marimba, balophone, and an
array of bells, gongs and little instruments. Mr. Jarman has also
worked extensively in Music/theater and is largely responsible for its
development as a means of expression in new music. As a writer and poet,
Joseph Jarman has published in Black Scholar, Dada Artist, New World
and other books and magazines. He has also written the liner notes for
many Art Ensemble of Chicago recordings. Mr. Jarman studied music at the Chicago Conservatory of Music and
Chicago Teachers College. He has been awarded numerous fellowships and
grants, including several NEA grants, New York State Council grants for
composition. In 1984 he received an interacts grant with Jessica
Hagdorn, Blondell Cummings and John Woo for The Art of War. He also had a
grant in 1999 from the British Arts Council. Mr. Jarman has received
numerous first place awards from Downbeat Critics Polls. He is a member
of the National Jazz Educators, Composers Forum, and Jazz Institute of
Chicago (Life member). Mr. Jarman is an honorary lifetime member of the
Chicago Jazz Society and is an honorary citizen of the city of Atlanta,
GA and Madison, Wisconsin. In 1990 Mr. Jarman was ordained a Jodo Shinshu Buddhist Priest and
also holds the rank of Godan (5th degree) black belt in the martial art
of Aikido. He now directs the Jikishinkan Aikido Dojo and Brooklyn Buddhist Association.
Mr. Jarman’s most recent recordings include Pachinko Dream track 10 on
Music @ Arts Records; Return of the Lost Tribe – Delmark Records; Out of
the Mist – Ocean records; and Lifetime Visions for the Magnificent
Human – Bopbuda Music.
In one of the very first public performances at the Lenfest Center for the Arts, Columbia University School of the Arts, presents an unprecedented and rare opportunity to hear one of the most legendary bands of all time, the Art Ensemble of Chicago. Marking 50 years since they originally began to perform as the Roscoe Mitchell Art Ensemble, the group reemerged at Café OTO in London earlier this year to great acclaim. This performance will be their only New York City stop, one day ahead of their participation in October Revolution, a new jazz and contemporary music festival in Philadelphia. Joining the Art Ensemble for this concert will be original member Joseph Jarman, who will be performing his poetry, long an integral part of the band’s shows.
The Lenfest Center for the Arts is a new venue designed for the presentation and creation of art across disciplines and dedicated to expanding the partnerships between Columbia University School of the Arts and the diverse, dynamic arts communities that have long defined Harlem’s cultural legacy. From readings and installations to performances, screenings, and symposia, the vibrant array of activity produced by the School of the Arts at the Lenfest Center aims to strengthen local partnerships while highlighting contemporary scholarship, global perspectives, and compelling voices of our time.
The Lantern Lenfest Center for the Arts 615 W. 129 St. New York, NY 10027
October 6, 2017, 7:00 pm (doors open at 6:30 pm)
This event is sold-out. A stand-by line will form the night of the show
starting at 6pm. Any returned tickets will be available for sale
(full-price and cash-only) on a first-come, first-served basis.
The Art Ensemble of Chicago
Roscoe Mitchell, flutes, saxophones Famoudou Don Moye, drums, percussion Hugh Ragin, trumpet Tomeka Reid, cello Jaribu Shahid, double bass Junius Paul, double bass with special guest Joseph Jarman, spoken word
Columbia University School of the Arts presents an unprecedented and
rare opportunity to hear one of the most legendary bands of all time,
the Art Ensemble of Chicago. Marking 50 years since they originally
began to perform as the Roscoe Mitchell Art Ensemble, the group
reemerged at Café OTO in London earlier this year to great acclaim. This
performance will be their only New York City stop, one day ahead of
their participation in October Revolution, a new jazz and contemporary
music festival in Philadelphia. Joining the Art Ensemble for this
concert will be original member Joseph Jarman, who will be performing
his poetry, long an integral part of the band’s shows.Presented in
collaboration with Columbia University School of the Arts and Miller
Theatre.
Major support for this performance of The Art Ensemble of Chicago is provided by the Robert D. Bielecki Foundation.
The Lantern, Lenfest Center for the Arts
615 West 129th Street (between Broadway and 12th Avenue)
Columbia University makes every effort to accommodate individuals
with disabilities. If you require accommodation, please contact Gavin
Browning at gdb2106@columbia.edu in advance.
Joseph Jarman & Marilyn Crispell: Connecting Spirits
Recorded January 12, 1996:
Egwu-Anwu (Sun Song) is an out-of-print live recording by Joseph Jarman and Famoudou Don Moye. The recording is of a live performance recorded in Woodstock, NY, which was released by India Navigation in January of 1978.
Joseph Jarman - tenor and alto sax, sopranino, flutes, bass clarinet, conch, vibraphone
Famoudou Don Moye - drums and other percussion, bailophone, conch, whistles, horns, marimba.
Roscoe Mitchell (saxophone), Hugh Ragin (piccolo
trumpet), Junius Paul (bass) and Famadou Don Moye (drums) of the Art
Ensemble of Chicago perform at London's Cafe OTO on Feb. 1, 2017. Roger Thomas
Famoudou Don Moye was in his early 20s, an expatriate jazz drummer working in Paris, when he got the invitation to join the Art Ensemble of Chicago. With it came a friendly admonition, from the group's trumpeter and most inveterate trickster, Lester Bowie. "Lester
told me: 'Don't even mess with this if you don't want to be part of
history,'" Moye recalls, laughing. "This was early 1970, when I was just
coming into the band. Of course I said, 'Hell, yeah!'" By
1970, the Art Ensemble of Chicago — a willfully eclectic, wildly
experimental collective originally led by saxophonist Roscoe Mitchell —
was already a sensation of sorts in Paris. It had a motto, "Great Black
Music," which would soon be appended with a no-less-pointed second
clause, "Ancient to the Future." So Bowie could have meant his comment
to register in a few different keys: History was something to be
channeled and challenged, as well as made. That conviction is worth remembering as the Art Ensemble of Chicago mobilizes this weekend for a celebration of its 50th anniversary. The group will perform a sold-out concert on Friday at Columbia University's Lenfest Center for the Arts, before headlining Saturday night at the October Revolution of Jazz & Contemporary Music,
a new festival in Philadelphia. Then comes a three-night engagement,
Oct. 15-17, at Café OTO in London, with other dates on the horizon.
Mitchell and Moye are now the active elders in the Art
Ensemble, which lost two other load-bearing pillars in Bowie (1999) and
bassist Malachi Favors (2004). Founding member Joseph Jarman, a
multi-reedist and flutist, no longer performs publicly, for health
reasons. But he will participate in Friday's concert at Columbia —
reading his oracular, metaphysical poetry, which has always been an
integral part of the group's performance ritual. That concert has been
framed as a tribute to Jarman. "I think it's wonderful, and
extraordinary," he says by phone. The irreducible power of the
Art Ensemble rested in its alignment of forces. "It was always a
learning experience," reflects Mitchell, "because I was lucky enough to
be with five individual thinkers." The group had a striking visual
iconography as well as a sonic aesthetic. Bowie took the stage in a lab
coat. Favors and Moye wore African vestments and tribal face paint.
Jarman evoked the East in his attire, while Mitchell typically dressed
like an American businessman. Each member of the band was a highly proficient instrumentalist
with a distinct personal voice, and the pan-stylistic slant of the
repertory — which could veer from boppish swing to earthy funk to
absurdist or dead-serious abstraction — provided ample opportunity for
displays of prowess. But the Art Ensemble also specialized in the
expressive use of so-called "little instruments," like bicycle horns and
bell trees, as if to undercut the currency of virtuosity. This
multidimensional and collectivist approach was congruent with the
ideals of the Association For the Advancement of Creative Musicians, out
of which the Art Ensemble first emerged. Jarman and Mitchell were part
of the brain trust that established the AACM, in 1965; Jarman performed
on the organization's first official concert. Because the Art
Ensemble of Chicago was the first AACM band to receive international
acclaim, the group was sometimes conflated, in those early years, with
the AACM itself — a source of some grumbling at the time, as George
Lewis documents in his essential book, A Power Stronger Than Itself: The AACM and American Experimental Music. "The
group's unusual hybrid of energy, multi-instrumentalism, humor,
silence, found sounds and homemade instruments — and most crucially,
extended collective improvisation instead of heroic individual solos —
proved revelatory to European audiences," Lewis writes. Other artists
under an AACM umbrella, like saxophonists Henry Threadgill and Anthony
Braxton, were creating and thinking along these lines too, and continue
to do so.
Members of the Art Ensemble of Chicago perform in San Francisco, Calif. in 1976. Tom Copi/Getty Images
Then as now, the Art Ensemble was both a prominent AACM flagship
and its own rogue vessel, disinclined to heed anyone else's navigation.
Moye, who was once involved in AACM governance in Chicago, now lives in
Marseilles, France, and downplays his involvement. On Friday, while the
Art Ensemble performs at Columbia, the AACM's New York chapter
will be presenting saxophonist Chico Freeman at the Community Church of
New York — the first concert of its fall season. Obviously, these
events could have been better coordinated. Mitchell maintains
more contact with the AACM chapters in both Chicago and New York, and
savors his place in the organization's pantheon. He has recently been a
fountain of output — composing orchestral and chamber works; performing
improvised sets with Lewis and AACM founder Muhal Richard Abrams;
teaching at Mills College in Oakland; and making major statements like
his stunning recent double album on ECM, Bells For the South Side. For
all of its focus on cohesion, the Art Ensemble always encouraged
outside forays by its members. "The intensity of the collective
experience required that everyone have an independent vehicle, and be
able to develop their own projects with the same dedication," says Moye.
"That avoids conflicts. And it keeps everybody fresh." The
reinvigorated Art Ensemble lineup bears some vestiges of that process:
along with Mitchell and Moye, it includes trumpeter Hugh Ragin, cellist Tomeka Reid
and two bassists, Jaribu Shahid and Junius Paul. These are all, as
Mitchell points out, "part of the AACM family." They're also musicians
with whom he has worked in other contexts, including his own bands. "It's
inspiring that they feel they still have so much to learn and practice
and write," says Reid of the AACM elders she has worked with, Mitchell
prominent among them. "And this deep hunger to just get what they have
out there. I feel like that's a lesson: Don't wait. Just do it now." The
open question — and it may not be answered by the upcoming
performances, or even answerable at all — is how the Art Ensemble can
fulfill its original mandate in the face of so much change. The group
has faced this predicament before: Non-Cognitive Aspects of the City - Live at Iridium, an album recorded in 2004 and released two years later (on Pi Recordings), was a prominent dispatch from the post-Favors era. "There's
never going to be another Lester Bowie or Malachi Favors," says
Mitchell. "I understand that. But we always said, 'Hey man, if it gets
down to one member, that's the Art Ensemble.' You know?" (His statement
checks out. "We'll be together as long as one of us is still alive to
carry on the word" — that was Bowie, speaking with Ted Panken on WCKR in
1995.) So the only certainty, as the Art Ensemble embarks on
its current journey, is that the musicians in the group will be striving
toward a high standard of shared intuition, as improvisers and as
members of a larger whole. History is on their side — as Jarman points
out, in his own way. "I would not put anything against the idea
of Art Ensemble of Chicago," he says. "That band was, and still is, a
powerful organization among itself."
THE MUSIC OF JOSEPH JARMAN: AN EXTENSIVE VIDEO OVERVIEW, A CROSS SECTION OF RECORDINGS, MUSICAL ANALYSIS AND COMMENTARY, PLUS VARIOUS INTERVIEWS WITH JOSEPH JARMAN:
Kofi Natambu, editor of and contributor to Sound Projections, is a writer, poet, cultural critic, and political journalist whose poetry, essays, criticism, reviews, and journalism have appeared in many literary magazines, journals, newspapers, and anthologies. He has written extensively about music as a critic and historian for many publications, including the Black Scholar, Downbeat, Solid Ground: A New World Journal, Detroit Metro Times, KONCH, the Panopticon Review,Black Renaissance Noire, the Village Voice, the City Sun (NYC), the Poetry Project Newsletter (NYC), and the African American Review. He is the author of a biography Malcolm X: His Life & Work (Alpha Books) and two books of poetry: The Melody Never Stops (Past Tents Press) and Intervals (Post Aesthetic Press). He was the founder and editor of Solid Ground: A New World Journal, a national quarterly magazine of the arts, culture, and politics and the editor of a literary anthology Nostalgia for the Present (Post Aesthetic Press). Natambu has read his work throughout the country and given many lectures and workshops at academic and arts institutions. He has taught American literature, literary theory and criticism, cultural history and criticism, film studies, political science, creative writing, philosophy, critical theory, and music history and criticism (Jazz, Blues, R&B, Hip Hop) at many universities and colleges. He was also a curator in the Education Department of Detroit’s Museum of African American History. Born in Detroit, Michigan, Natambu currently lives in Berkeley, California with his wife Chuleenan.
Joseph Jarman 
Then as now, the Art Ensemble was both a prominent AACM flagship
and its own rogue vessel, disinclined to heed anyone else's navigation.
Moye, who was once involved in AACM governance in Chicago, now lives in
Marseilles, France, and downplays his involvement. On Friday, while the
Art Ensemble performs at Columbia, the AACM's New York chapter
will be presenting saxophonist Chico Freeman at the Community Church of
New York — the first concert of its fall season. Obviously, these
events could have been better coordinated.
