The Free Musics by Jack Wright, Spring Garden Music Editions, Jan. 2017, 316 pages
The free musics are free jazz and free improvisation, genres rooted in the sixties that continue today under different circumstances. Their approach was originally exploratory free playing, which encouraged the maximum range of sound and feeling. In Europe they were and still are accepted genres for career professionals. In North America this is only true for free jazz, a style that continues basically unchanged since its origins. Free improvisation that does not communicate a jazz or free jazz identity and feeling is outside the range of media attention, art music audiences, and credentialing institutions.
Free playing is found as often in private sessions as in performance. It is not aimed at convincing anyone besides the musicians themselves. It follows their moment-to-moment intuitions interacting with one another. Its strength is to enter play with the lightness of “let’s see what happens," which is no guarantee that the result will be valued musically. As a result, this approach has not been the pursuit of many professional musicians.
This book presents a new way of looking at the music, from the perspective of the musicians themselves rather than that of consumers. It takes into account their assumptions and practices--their musical approach, relations to the music world, to each other, and to the social order, as these conditions have changed since the origins of these musics.
Chapters follow a rough chronology: 1. Jazz as the Prehistory of Free Musics; 2. Sixties Free Jazz; 3. Collapse of the Free Jazz Movement; 4. Free Jazz in Revival; 5. The Situation for Jazz-based Music; 6. British Free Improvisation; 7. Free Improv in North America in the 1980s; 8. What Good is Free?; 9. Derek Bailey’s Concept of Improvisation; 10. Free Playing; 11. Free Playing and the Real World; 12. Resurgence of Free Improv to the Present
Jack Wright is a saxophonist who turned to playing free music in 1979, and has toured widely in North America and Europe ever since. He is open to playing with others, whether experienced or not, and approaches his own playing with a questioning spirit. He has been variously called "the Johnny Appleseed of free improvisation,” “an undergrounder by design,” and "the king of experimental free improvisation." These might be attractive titles but you need to make your own judgment by looking into and listening to his music. See springgardenmusic.com for more information.
The book is available directly from the author at jackwri444 at aol dot com for $15, with shipping $3 within the US = $18 total, payable by check (write to him for address). Paypal also possible. It will include "You Haven't Heard This"--a new CD made for this purpose: one track of Roughhousing, performance in Johnson City TN, Sept. 2016, plus recent Jack Wright solos on alto and soprano saxes: 76min. total
The book is also available from Amazon (without the CD): The Free Musics, where you can also read a sample of the text. In Canada it is here, In the UK it is here, and as well as Germany, Spain France , and Italy. In the US it is available from Squidco. Unfortunately, high mailing costs make it prohibitive to ship copies to Europe.
Comments and Reviews
Ben Watson, the author of Derek Bailey and the Story of Free Improvisation: "The Free Musics will probably be considered the most important book on free playing since Derek Bailey's Improvisation. He's actually doing what Derek said musicians never do, talking about what it's like to improvise, and with a really nuanced understanding of Free Jazz and the 60s revolution, Free Improvisation, the Free Jazz Revival...His playing with guitarist Zach Darrup is extraordinary, packed with unexpected detail." And in an email, "Your book is going to stir so many thoughts in so many heads you are not going to live long enough to catch up with all the repercussions!"
Michael Hefferly, author of Northern Sun/Southern Moon--Europe's Reinvention of Jazz : "Recommend it highly for its seasoned and savvy insider's view, richly laden with erudite weave of voices from disciplines and discourses in larger culture beyond the special one of its focus. His style in that work is the best of what academic writing purports to be--interdisciplinary discourse, a conversation between people who know a lot about what they're writing about and who know how to write clearly and creatively (ie., readably.)"
Evan Lipson, bassist and touring partner: "What a ride! I'm so accustomed to your voice as a bold, insightful, and often profound essayist and informal (i.e. driver or passenger seat) lecturer, but this is a different voice entirely. Your convctions and insights dealing with this history (avoiding the hagiography you mention) in a longform context are nothing short of revelatory."
Andrew Drury, percussionist and partner of many tours: "This is exciting. Sure to be a classic. To say Jack Wright is an excellent musician, an amazing one, or a philosopher, or trickster, or one capable of blowing minds and inspiring people to think in new ways and do strangely courageous things, is all very true but still doesn't adequately make the case of why I think just about everyone I know should buy his book (and his cds, and see him live!). A recommendation built on hype is not a smidgeon as fun as actually hearing or seeing him play, hanging out, and or hearing and engaging with what he thinks. So just try it! Go for it! Now that he has bound some of his writings within one spine and cover we have another point of entry into his unique oeuvre and the world of music in general which in this period of history has been given a Procrustean bed kind of treatment to fit the socio-economic context. Jack, for decades, has travelled uncharted territory and engaged with music as aesthetic practice, as profession, and as way of life with as much integrity, adventure, fun, thoughtfulness, etc. as anyone I've met. Seriously."
Wire, May 2017: "'Despite
my briar-patch underground preference, I sincerely want my playing to
be available to anyone who will listen...For outsider musicians the
problem is not that our music is judged negatively but that it doesn’t
get judged at all'. Thus veteran saxophone improviser Jack Wright, whose
book, he writes, "aims to provide insight into the subjectivity
behind a kind of playing that alienates all but a few".
``````````````````````````````````````````````````Two selections:``````````````````````````` ```````````````````````
From Ch. 2, p. 23-24. "[Ornette] Coleman had a profound and irreversible impact even on those who resisted his music. It was behind the scene, in rehearsals and discussion, that musical self-determination and the orientation of musicians to each other developed. Coleman wanted them to listen in the moment rather than follow what the score literally told them to do. For instance, the professional norm was for the leader to shape the music as he wanted it played in performance, and to instruct the bassist accordingly. Contrary to that, he told his bassist Charlie Haden to make up the harmony himself; this made the player a shareholder in the composer role and somewhat displaced the leader.
As this kind of listening/playing extended to all Coleman’s players, it released them as music creators with almost equal responsibility. He rehearsed a group in L.A. for his 1958 album “Something Else!!!” (exclamation points in the original) and changed the composition at each rehearsal, and even on the recording date itself. This ignored the usual progression from rehearsal to perfected piece, which, outside the latitude of the jazz soloist, had been standard for all musical production. He may have done this without conscious intent, but he apparently didn’t feel inhibited by the conventional practice. His players would have to listen, roughly follow the score, and depend on their own initiative, a kind of forced confusion. He insisted on this over his partners’ objections; they had to believe in Coleman’s vision beyond what they felt was right. This brought the rehearsal more in line with the leaderless private session, which continues in free playing today. The two modes of off-stage playing--rehearsal and session--had usually been carefully distinguished, maintaining the separate roles and integrity of skilled professional and self-motivated creative artist. Coleman transformed the rehearsal into a means for making musicians flexible and open to a variety of possibilities, to think creatively in the widest possible way in the moment. This brought musicians in direct contact with each other rather than mediated through the leader.
the twenties there had been a firm distinction between musical director/score-provider/paymaster
and hired player who executed his will on pain of dismissal. This is
a master-servant pattern of leaders hiring soloists and sidemen to do
the leader’s selected and often self-composed music. For those
under Coleman’s tutelage the players led themselves, progressively
dispensing with chord progressions and later even with time-keeping.
The musical director had brought the players to the point where he could
withdraw—and they’d still get paid. This led to the possibility
of a group choosing its own members, without a leader financially in
charge. Here began the radical shift to players as mutual partners of
each other, even friends, as Steve Lacy said. This arrangement would
be in tension with the industry standard of sidemen and leader, who
negotiated the contract for the gig or record, got the most credit in
the press, and got paid extra, often double.
Ch. 10, p. 186 "Free playing lacks the continuity of progressive development, as one can expect from a genre like jazz in its heyday, when players seeking to outdistance rivals ended up altering the code for others. It is on the cusp between visionary possibility--it can move in any direction--and singular actualities, which would include Coltrane’s long solos, free sessions today. The urge to play freely has brought different players together at different historical junctures with no causal links between them, such as learning from the masters provides. It is then fortunate that in North America free playing has no recognized masters to be followed. Only a music world [institutions such as media, music schools, and funding sources] can churn them out; and its radar does not notice anything of such small commercial value as free playing.
This creative freedom is cognitive, musical ideas potentially multiplying by intermixing and creating mutants no one recognizes, including the players. The instrument does not dictate inherent rules for making music, as presumed in music schools, but is a mere vehicle for sound. A cheap, even broken instrument might hold an advantage over one acclaimed as exemplary for the correct sound. The traditional love of the instrument is transformed from veneration for its access to tradition, like a sacred relic, to appreciation for whatever about that specific instrument enables endless mutation."
The Improv Campout in Quest NM, June 1990. Wright is the shirtless one.
25. Ted Gioia presently unavailable
30. Robert Levin
84. William Parker
91. Wynton Marsalis
94. Mackenzie Wark
123. Occupy Musicians
134. Seymour Wright
141. Davey Williams
142. Milo Fine has told me that he began free playing in 1969.
144. John Grundfest
171. The Improvisor - website currently down, try googling
210. Paul Helliwell
241. Alain Badiou
242. Infinite Games
243. Joe McPhee
253. Henry Flynt
268. Review of Tangle
270. Touching Extremes
274. Winning the audience
277. Scott Thomson
282. Jean Baudrillard
292. Red Room
295. Geno's Empty Foxhole
297. Pew grant
299. A Space Philadelphia
301. Blazanovic article
305. No Nets
306. Fire Museum
308. Day of Noise
311. Tim Hodgkinson
312. No Idea Festival
315. This very webpage!
Jan. 19, 2017
The Free Musics is first of all addressed to my fellow sound-makers, mostly calling themselves musicians. Others might be interested in what a musician would say to those who are or could be partners, but they are not my first concern. Much of the book looks athow we got to where we are today, but here is the essential message:
There is a vast gulf between us and the sounds we play with. This is the result of several cultural factors we face today: the unwritten musician contract to produce music; the media and institutions that determine who gets attention; the public demand for what is familiar; and the aura surrounding performance. As musicians we at least get to own what we do, but this is an alienated, objectified, abstract relationship. Our situation falls in line with that of other artists, attempting to adapt to a culture that makes a priority of the (neo)liberal scientific viewpoint. It has forgotten a central point of Kant, that knowledge can only circle around concrete reality, cannot itself be the truth of it, the thing in itself, and never gets to experience it. Art is not a thing but an act of concrete experience. It is more ancient than the mediating act of thought and concept, which have established for us what we should do if we are to consider ourselves valid musicians. Imagine instead that beside us when we sit to play are those earliest humans, who experienced sounds they made as their mystic participation in nature, indistinguishable from themselves. They played not to please others and gain their response but to please the gods, and there was no applause meter or system to confirm they’d gotten it right.
We’re not back there, of course. But to call ourselves contemporary or avant-garde musicians only gets us further from concrete experience and more stuck in the mire of our culture. Our contemporary situation is rather that distance, fences, and detours are built into us each time we approach sound-making. Like the early humans, who were enlisted in repeating ritual formulas, we start out caked in the mud of our culture; there is no blank slate. When we play and think, “now that’s good, I’m onto something here,” then we’ve been detoured, deceived by value and significance, and barred from the pure factuality of what we do, all part of the musician contract. We do the same when we’re proud of our difference, and would be ashamed and defensive if someone said, “you always sound the same, you haven’t evolved.”
free of caring about all this is a gigantic struggle of internal
resistance to our culture that goes beyond “non-idiomatic.”
It puts us outside the idealized effort to “make it new,”
and by the same token relieves us of the embarrassment of living
in the shadow of the irretrievable golden age and icons of the sixties.
Some may feel joy from playing in their shadow, but there is a very
different excitement possible for us.