Mindfulness in Music

[I posted this 'Monday Musing' (below) on my Facebook page, and was encouraged to share it here as well. So here it is...!]

Something I've noticed over the years playing jazz is that conviction & mindfulness go a long way:

You can have all the hip vocabulary or technical facility in the world, but if you don't deliver that music from a place of calm confidence and apparent ease, it's going to sound stale or shaky or forced.


If you internally second-guess your note choices during a solo, or judge what you just played, or commit to a phrase with only 99% conviction, even just that missing 1% is really felt.

On the other hand, if you choose one simple idea--even just one note--and play it with 100% conviction (own it), that's going to resonate with the listener.

I like this idea, because it's all about staying in the moment, and keeping the mind from wandering. As soon as you start judging the music you're making, or doubting yourself - you're no longer in the moment, and the music won't be either.

Staying present is TOUGH, to say the least. It's something I'm always trying to work on, musically and otherwise. I love that music pushes me to develop these mental habits.

Mindfulness is tough, but I don't mind. 

"The music is all around us..."

"...all you have to do... is listen." —fictional character, August Rush

I haven't gotten to the point (yet) where I walk down the street and hear the noise of traffic as a sort of symphony of sounds (as August Rush does). However, I do realize that there is that potential. Music has that boundless, unlimited potential. We hear a symphony orchestra playing and easily identify it as music, but we could just the same hear a car's horn and call it music.

This gets into a musical philosophy reminiscent of John Cage's, who said, "The function of art is not to communicate one's personal ideas or feelings but rather to imitate nature in her manner of operation." Music for Cage is a sort of "purposeless play" and an "affirmation of life," which serves only to present sounds as they are in their natural form, rather than to manipulate sounds in order to portray something other than nature.

August Rush (fictional), John Cage (nonfictional)

For Cage, this philosophy resulted in music which challenged more traditional notions of music. For example, his famous composition 4'33" contains no notated music. In fact, at first glance, it would seem the piece calls for complete silence (three movements of tacet). However, Cage's intention was for the performer to refrain from making sound in order to allow the other sounds in the environment to be brought to the aural forefront (e.g. a cough from an audience member, or a squeak from a chair).

Calling a stifled cough "music" may be hard idea to swallow for some music listeners, but for Cage, he saw it like this: Self-expression is not the most beautiful, truest form of art. After all, what we deem self-expressive is largely only a reflection of our individual tastes and biases which we have picked up during our lifetimes. These tastes are developed through a series of judgments, by imperfect, fallible human beings. The most beautiful, truest form of art is that which is untainted by human manipulation or judgment. So, for Cage, the the only way to express truth in a musical manner was to remove the performer entirely from the creation of the music.

This all challenges our traditional views of aesthetic. It is natural for us to develop tastes for particular pieces of art and distastes for others. We see a painting, and we very quickly cross-check it against our likes and dislikes and form an opinion about it. But, as Cage posits, what may be more "natural" in the "Mother Nature" sense of the word, is a life free of judgment. If we remove judgment, we are left with beauty.

Cage summarizes:

"Every day is a beautiful day. Everything is pleasing, provided you haven't got the notion of pleasing and displeasing in you."

(Easier said than done, Mr. Cage.)

But it is an important idea, I think. There are certain realms of life where judgments (well-informed) are necessary (e.g. dietary discretion at the dinner table to ensure a healthy, functioning body), certainly. But in our aesthetic lives, I think it's important to challenge ourselves to "turn off" judgments occasionally and try to see a painting with fresh eyes or listen to a new type of music, free of any pre-conceived bias. If we adopt some of Cage's ideas, we can work to broaden our aesthetic sensibilities and more easily appreciate the beauty of our natural world.

So, after all this talk of John Cage, here's a clip of 4'33" performed by David Tudor. Your task is to notice the beauty in the performance, whatever that may mean to you.

And if you haven't got the time for Cage, take a quick stroll down the nearest street and listen for some beautiful, musical car horns, in the spirit of August Rush.

The Genius of Monk

"A genius is the one most like himself."

Thelonious Monk

For years now, this famous document filled with curious scribbles, titled "MONK'S ADVICE," has been making its rounds on the internet. (One blogger discusses Thelonious Monk and some of the document's background here.) I've noticed the document pop up time and time again, and each time I read it, I get something new out of it. Today, the "genius" quote popped out at me.

Throughout life, we are constantly influenced by outside sources. We may emulate a personal hero, mimic a musician's melody, or draw knowledge from a famous quote (like right now, for example). Through imitation and emulation, we shape ourselves (musically and personally).

Outside influences push and pull us in many different directions. Sometimes these forces challenge us and change us for the better; other times they confuse us and throw us off of our path. At these times, I think it's important to look inwardly and go with your gut. Or, for you saps out there, go with your heart. Stick to your essence.

Alternatively, if you prefer rhymes:

"Today you are You; that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You."
—Dr. Seuss

Musically, this means you should pursue the music that interests you the most. Do your best to branch out and become versatile, but realize that it's okay if not everything gels perfectly with your style. Realize that you have your own style.

For Monk, this meant embracing his own crazy, unorthodox style: percussive, fragmented, and completely unique.

One Man Band

The Film

I recently stumbled upon an animated short film by Pixar that I had never seen before, “One Man Band.” The short, like all of Pixar’s films, does a beautiful job of telling a simple story—a story which entertains but also teaches several musical/life lessons. (My sole, petty complaint is that I wish Pixar had hyphenated the title (One-Man Band). Other than that, superb little film.)

Here it is:

Pixar - One Man Band from Ricardo Pereira on Vimeo.

Synopsis

In the video, a street musician by the name of “Bass” is upstaged by a newcomer, “Treble,” at his usual busking spot. With only one audience member—a little peasant girl with only one coin to spare—the two musicians compete against each other in a musical duel, with hopes of winning the girl’s appreciation (coin).

As you may expect, the girl is not impressed. Instead, the showy duel completely disgusts the girl.

She is noticeably annoyed and disappointed as the musicians crescendo into the climax of their aggressive duel. In the next moment, the girl’s only coin is lost down the drain, and the musicians go silent.

In the final scene, the girl surprises Bass and Treble with her violin chops—an impressive cadenza which earns her a handsome sum of gold coins. 

Lessons Learned

The film is more than just a couple of dudes playing a ridiculous number of instruments at once. It’s rather parabolic, and it contains several important lessons about music (and life in general).

Here are a few:

1. Music not about competition. (Duet, not duel.)
   To be successful in a musical career, to some degree, may mean being better than the other one-man band. But if you focus too much on being better than another musician (“defeating” them), you start to bring hostility and antagonism into the mix—two things which have no place in music. Music is about harmony and cooperation. (Instead of a duel, Bass and Treble should have played a duet.)
   
2.  Music is not about money. (Money talks, but music says nicer things.)
   The “starving artist” stereotype supports this one. Musicians who wish to continue with music professionally are well aware that it’s not where the money’s at. Those who do keep at it do so because they love and appreciate music deeply. Music’s not about vying for the peasant girl’s gold coin. It’s about creating something beautiful, pure, and true.
3. Music is about connecting with other people. (Legato, not staccato.)
   It’s a force that should bring people closer together—not divide. A musician who plays with the goal of merely impressing the audience is thinking much too selfishly. The primary goal must be to connect with the listener. The music played by Bass and Treble was fast, loud, exciting, and technically impressive. But the men weren’t at all concerned with forging a connection with their listener, the peasant girl. As a result, the music fell flat; the characters were driven apart rather than drawn together (detached rather than connected). It is in the connections forged through music that music holds its greatest value.

Final Words ("Imagine")

This delightful 5-minute animation taught all of these lessons, without using even one word of dialogue. I credit this to Pixar’s imagination and creative genius but also to the fact that these lessons are profoundly fundamental.

So fundamental, in fact, that they’re easily applicable to every human being—musician or not: We’re not here on Earth to compete against one another, or to fight with each other, or to chase after trivial material goods. We’re here to come together and connect with our fellow human being—by living peacefully, being kind, and loving one another. (John Lennon used music to express these ideas beautifully.)

So, heed the lessons of "One Man Band"—make music for the sake of music itself, and not for the lesser purpose of winning a peasant girl's gold coin.